Trip to Popenguine

February 21, 2008

I decided to go to Popenguine for a day to get a break from Dakar and see the lovely coast south of Dakar that everyone says is beautiful. Since my friends were all busy, I set forth on the journey alone. Not a big deal, the village I was going to is closer than Kaolack, and I'm quite comfortable in moving about this country now. I took a sept-place to the nearest city on the main highway, and then waited a half hour to get in the back of a pick-up truck that took me the rest of the way to the village. While waiting, I made friends with the people who worked at the boutique on the corner as well as the women selling vegetables and nuts. They were quite nice, and were surprised to see a toubab waiting around for transportation, since most people who come by there have their own cars or are part of a tour group.

I arrived in Popenguine and made my way to a restaurant for lunch. I ordered chicken yassa, which was the special for the day and also a very common Senegalese dish, but was served the strangest version of the dish I've ever had. It was good, and it had chicken and onions, but it definitely wasn't chicken yassa. I heard some guys my age speaking English at a nearby table and went over to say hi to them. Turns out I had found the majority of peace corps volunteers currently stationed in Mali. They had gone to Dakar for a softball tournament for the weekend, and were on their way back to Mali. There were at least thirty kids all staying in three houses down at the beach. They invited me to come join them and said they were throwing a party on the beach later, but I didn't end up going. I wanted the day to relax, read a book, and enjoy some quiet time. I decided that being around Peace Corps volunteers who were so ecstatic to see the ocean, be away from their villages, and have access to alcohol was probably not the best way to spend my day.

I wandered further down the road to the campement where I wanted to stay that I had found in my guidebook. I arrived at the campement to find out that it was booked for the night. As were all the other places around. A girl took me under her wing and walked around with me to help me find a place to stay. We ended up finding a guy on the beach who has two houses that he rents. So I ended up haggling hard with him over the price, and finally renting one of the houses for the night. It was simple enough, but it was cozy.

I went back down to spend a bit more time on the beach before heading to a restaurant for dinner. I had one of the best meals I've had since arriving in Senegal. I was pleasantly surprised. After dinner, I asked some people who had been speaking English at the table next to me what time it was. They answered, but were so shocked to find an English-speaker that they invited me to their table. One woman was a development worker in Dakar, and the other two were friends who had come to visit her. They were Canadian. We spent about an hour talking before they decided it was time for them to go to bed. I soon after made my way back to the house and fell asleep.

This morning I woke up and went immediately to the beach. I laid out there reading a book and working on my amazing tan. I had been reading for about a half hour when I looked up to see a full-size pig making its way along the beach. Now that's not something you see everyday. And the beach was quite clean, for Senegalese standards, so it's not like there was trash around for the pig to eat. But it didn't seem to mind as it continued its morning walk. A little while later the Canadians from the night before walked over to say hello, they had just been walking in the national park which was a stones throw away from where I was laying. There was a stray dog who had been following them, and when they left the stray dog stayed by me. He was joined by another dog friend and they curled up on the sand within a few feet of my blanket. One tried to come up and make friends with me (I remind you that these dogs are flea-ridden and not clean). I yelled at it and tried to get it to go away, but it was persistent. A man walking by me on the beach told me to hit the dog so that it would leave. I'm incapable of hitting a dog, so instead I took my sandal off and pushed the dog away with it, and that worked just as well.

When I thought I had got too much sun, I made my way to a little restaurant on the beach to have a Fanta and continue reading. When I went in to pay my bill, I met four nice Frenchmen (friendly, grandpa-type men) who were sitting at the bar and ordering lunch. Their wives were sitting outside. The men talked to me for a little while, and one of them with Irish ancestors talked about how we had a common bound. They were absolutely floored when I told them I was American. They complimented me on my French, which made my day.

On my way out of town, I stopped by a restaurant to get lunch. The restaurant I walked into wasn't open yet, but instead the workers were sitting down to eat together. In true Senegalese style, they invited me to join them for lunch, so I did. It was fish yassa and was very good. I made it about 20 feet from where I would wait for a car to take me to the main highway, when a man who was eating lunch invited me to eat with him. I told him I had already eaten, and he took offense. He offered me to drink, and although I should've accepted something, I declined cause I wanted to go find a car and make my way back. He took offense again. And he told me that if I waited for him to finish his meal, he would help me find a car. So I sat there and talked to him for some time. The talking was mostly him lamenting that he had only just met me and I was leaving, but that it was life, and god-willing I would return. A few minutes later he finished his meal, and when we walked around the corner, a car arrived. Perfect timing.

Camels in the Desert

February 17, 2008

The girls and I decided to take a weekend trip to the Desert de Lompoul which is north of Dakar, but south of St. Louis. We left early yesterday morning and met two Spanish friends of ours at the transportation center in Dakar. After arguing about prices and vehicles for probably a half hour with the men who worked there, we ended up renting a white mini-bus for ourselves. There were eight of us going, so that meant two to a seat which made things comfortable enough.

We arrived at the nearest village to the desert, and then were picked up in an SUV by a worker at the campement where we were going to stay. A few kilometers away was the desert. We passed by women carrying things back and forth between the villages on their heads, and people working at agriculture sites funded by NGOs.

We arrived at the campement to find it consisted of many "Mauritanian style tents." In true Senegalese style, the owner brought us to the main tent and pulled a bunch of lounge/couch/bed things into the same vicinity and told us to nap after our long journey (which was only about 4 1/2 hours… and I had actually slept the whole way). We chatted with the workers and waited about an hour for lunch to be ready. Lunch, of course, was rice and fish. It wasn't my favorite, but it was ok. Afterwards, we settled into the tents where we would be staying for the night. We tracked down the showers and toilets, which were very basic and were found in small structures built with dead tree branches and brush, with pieces of fabric that blocked the doorway (which didn't stay in place when the wind blew). After napping for half an hour, we sent out to explore the desert.

I am not a big fan of sand at the beach. I don't like how it sticks to you after you've been swimming. So I REALLY like that aspect of the desert. No water, no sticky stand, just sand everywhere. Granted, it still gets all over everything, but I don't mind. We started walking and saying we would "just go to the top of the next dune," but then when we arrived there we'd say, "ok, just to the top of the next one." Needless to say, we walked for quite some time. When we found a really good drop off, we spent a good half hour running and jumping off of it. This resulted in lots of sand getting stuck in my jeans. The landscape was incredible, and made me want to go to North Africa even more to see the Sahara.

When we arrived at dinner, a lot more tourists had shown up just for the night. We were all exhausted, but they had organized a dance outside around the fire with drums and everything. I laid on one of the couches on the tent and watched from afar, but it was a bit too touristy for me and I ended up going to the tent to sleep.

The next morning (this morning), we had arranged to ride camels in the dunes. So, a young boy (yes, there's child labor in Senegal) arrived with three camels. He only spoke Pulaar, so we could hardly communicate with him. He was about 12 years old, but looked younger. We jumped up on the camels and he led us around for a little while. It was super fun. However, the way the seat on my camel was a bit broken, one of the sides was missing and the leg holds were obviously made for a child. So, I spent much of the ride awkwardly trying to stay on top of the camel. It wasn't too difficult until we started heading downhill. But it was fun nonetheless, and I didn't fall off, so that's good.

After breakfast and camel rides, we headed back to Dakar.

Kayaking

February 10, 2008

A few of my friends go kayaking quite often in Dakar, so me and my girlfriends decided to give it a shot today. The boys had already left before we decided to do it, so we headed out on our own. We rented kayaks from the oceanarium which on the southern part of the Dakar peninsula. It was about $6 for an hour. We paddled along one side of the coast, and then returned and went in the opposite direction. The water was very clear, but we didn't see any fish or anything. It was beautiful, and not too cold. It was interesting to see Dakar from the sea. It looked pretty and peaceful from where we were kayaking… but we knew better. A bunch of Lebanese men went by us on a boat a few times and invited us to go get drinks, but we declined. Three of us had normal-size kayaks, but Sandra's was kid-sized, so it was very tipsy. She ended up getting flipped over, but got herself upright with a little help. We kayaked quite a ways and saw a number of different beaches where people were swimming, as well as the Presidential Palace, and some of the really nice hotels right on the water. We ended up making it back to the oceanarium at the same time as the guys, so they were kind enough to carry our boats up from the water.

Niakhar - Take 2

February 15, 2008

I fell in love with Niakhar so much that I wanted to go back and visit. I decided it would be a good idea to bring my three friends as well, since they haven't been to a village yet. From Kaolack, we took a sept-place to Fatik. My friends then didn't want to spend the $4 to take a taxi that would've left immediately, but instead opted to pay about 65 cents each to ride a little bus packed with people to the village. I would never get in one of these buses on the main highway, but since I knew the road we were about to get on, and know that there are rarely other vehicles on it, I said I'd ride the bus too. But then, we had to wait 2 hours for the bus to fill up. After about an hour, I started putting the idea in the girls' heads that it would be worth it to pay the $4 extra to take a taxi. But by that time, my huge heavy luggage with many of my belongings had already been lugged onto the top of the bus. When we got off the bus, we caused quite a commotion. The guys running the transport station kept telling us to get back on the bus , and we said we didn't have time to wait cause we had a meeting to go to (this is basically unheard of in Senegal; the Senegalese ALWAYS have time to wait); they refused to believe us and refused to get my luggage off the top. So, my friend Bethany started climbing up the ladder to get the luggage (which she honestly could not have carried down because it was quite heavy). The men started freaking out and telling her to get down (it's unheard of for women to climb up on top of the bus), but the women around us supported Bethany's efforts and started yelling at the men. We had already made friends with the women, as they earlier had given us children to hold and watch over while they worked. It was quite the commotion. We ended up getting back on the bus since it was about to leave, but then ended up waiting another 20 minutes until it was completely packed. The overall 2 hours of waiting was not worth the $4 that we saved, but it was definitely an experience.

We arrived in the village about 20 minutes after our transport finally left. I called my friend who lives there when we arrived and he said he'd arrive in a few minutes to pick us up (**side note: never in my life did I think that if I ever visited an African village I would have a cell phone and be texting or calling people from it**). In the meantime, a 12 year old boy ran up to us and said my friend's name about 3 times, and told us to come over to a boutique and wait for my friend to arrive. So, we sat down and the woman running the store ran and got plastic chairs for all of us to sit down (the hospitality in this country continues to amaze me), and sure enough 4 minutes later my friend Paul Samba Diouf arrived to pick us up. Paul had arranged a room at his family's house for us to stay in so that we would be with a family instead of simply at the YWAM base. His family is incredibly nice and welcoming. The room for us was set up with a bed, some mattresses on the floor, mosquito nets, and a fan… perfect. After we settled in, we went to the YWAM base. We visited with the director for a bit, and then Paul gave the other girls a tour of the base. I wandered around the area playing with Dorcas, a darling little girl whose parents both work at the base.

Afterwards, we walked around the fringe of the village among the baobab trees. We ran into a friend of Paul's who was going for a run. The friend stopped and told us lots of old Senegalese stories. He used to work as a tour guide, so he loves that sort of thing. Afterward he joined us to visit the village of Paul's uncle.

My friend Bethany always asks for bouye juice whenever we are anywhere the serves juice. Sometimes she will want it when simply walking down the street, and then will stop in every boutique in the vicinity to see if they have some. Bouye is the fruit of the baobab tree. The juice made out of the fruit is white and is absolutely delicious. As we were walking among the baobab trees, Bethany tried to find some fruit that she could bring back with her, but none of them were good. Paul's uncle's family gave us six fruit to go home with, and upon return to Paul's family's house, his mother made us juice out of the fruit.

Before dinner, we walked to the "downtown" part of the village. Bethany has a love for animals, and ended up riding one of Paul's family's donkeys part of the way to the main store in the village, and then all the way back to the house. It was quite the site. The villagers got a kick out of it as well.

After dinner, the girls were tired so they immediately went to bed. Paul and I walked to the other side of the village to visit my friend Anna who was staying at the pastor's house where I had gone to church last Sunday morning. I talked to Anna for a bit and then we visited with everyone else. Anna's aunt had sent her a box of dominos, so we taught the pastor and one of his children how to play the game. We sat around and talked with the family for about an hour until I got tired and returned back to where I was staying.

This morning, I woke up at about 7:30am. I woke up other girls up (yes, I am the early riser of the group, who would've thought?!) and we had breakfast when Paul arrived (bread, butter, coffee). Paul and I left to go meet Anna and the pastor. There's a girl in a nearby village who is very sick. She has sores on her upper thigh, and they've been there for over 2 years and continue to get worse (**the following is not for those with weak stomachs**). She has at least 3 open wounds, and there is puss that oozes out of them. We were told that yesterday they were not open and instead the entire thigh was very swollen, but then when they washed it they cleaned out the wounds. The wounds never truly close. She has been out of school for 2 years because of it. Her condition causes her great pain and makes it impossible for her to walk great distances, and she lives at least 3 kilometers from the nearest good-sized village. They want to put her in a hospital so that they can truly clean the wounds and treat the condition, but they do not have the money to do so. The nearest hospital that they say is equipped enough to deal with her condition is a few hours away. The four of us went to go visit the girl and her family. We prayed for the girl who is just 17 years old. Her eyes are full of life, but it's frustrating to realize that she can't go to school. They said she will probably die at a young age if she doesn't get the treatment to deal with her condition, and her family doesn’t have the money to take her to the hospital and pay medical bills.

After visiting the girl, Paul took me to visit a school set up by a Serer mission. The young kids were in the school yard in what is basically their gym class, running around playing football (soccer) with bandanas of the color of their team wrapped around their heads, and a young woman who was their teacher blowing a whistle and coaching them. We walked into one of the classrooms where there were only two students and a teacher. The two students were girls and were about 17 years old. They are the only students in their class, taking up just a little space in the huge classroom.

We arrived back at the house to see Bethany and her two friends in the middle of singing "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" with a group of children in the front yard. It was so cute. Bethany wants to be a teacher and it is very apparent. The children don't speak English, or French, yet they were singing right along in English. They also had taught them words including "dance" and "shh" (ok, I know that one isn't technically a word), and after the song finished they started playing a type of follow-the-leader game.

I packed my bags and then played football (soccer) with the kids while waiting for the time to leave to roll around. Adults here don't in general play with children. Children are usually left to entertain themselves, take care of themselves, and watch over one another, so they love when people my age (let alone TOUBABS my age) take interest in them.

We've rented a car (a sept-place) to go back to Dakar. We are each paying $2 extra to go directly from the village of Niakhar to Dakar without stopping in the city, and without having to take 2 other passengers. It's wonderful! We have room to stretch out and can actually look around and see the scenery (which is difficult when it's usually you and 7 other people crammed into a station wagon, a "sept-place"). So here I am, in the backseat next to Anna, stretched out, looking at the scenery and people of this beautiful country and typing on my laptop. A number of times we've had to slow down and wait for animals (donkeys, cows, and sheep) to cross the road. One particular donkey just stood still in the middle and waited for us to drive around it. It has been a great trip! We are sure to get stuck in traffic in about a half-hour when we get near the peninsula where Dakar is, but until then it's smooth travels.

A Thief Among Us

February 14, 2008

My phone was stolen. This kind of thing happens all the time in Senegal, but I had made it 5 1/2 months with the same one and was not exactly pleased to have it happen to me 3 weeks before I leave the country. I lost all the phone numbers that I had stored in the phone as well, which makes it a bit difficult to get in touch with anyone. What irks me even more is that I know who the thief is.

My phone was in my purse at work, and a girl I work with took it out of my purse and left with it. We all know it was her, but she refuses to admit it and refuses to give the phone back. She has her own phone, one that is even nicer than the one she stole. My phone was the cheapest kind available in this country. My boss keeps telling me it will turn up. She has pulled the girls (there were 4 of us in the building when it was stolen) together and told them that whoever took the phone has to just leave it somewhere at work and we'll find it, and all will be forgiven. But it has been a day and a half and it hasn't turned up. I talked with the girl and she lied to me and told me she didn't take it, and told me that the situation "touches her heart." She said she would be able to help me in any circumstances, except theft. I asked her to try to explain that, but she simply said the same statement again and added that there was nothing she could do about things that were stolen. I wanted to ring the girl's neck right then and there, but restrained myself.

One of the other girls who was there at the time screamed for about 10 minutes at the girl who took it. The thief just screamed right back. (If anyone gets the opportunity to watch two women yell at each other in Wolof, I recommend they do it; it is an art) Also, the thief has refused to make eye contact with me even when talking to me.

When I got home from work 2 days ago (when it happened) I told my host family what happened. They immediately became furious and started threatening to kill the girl who stole my phone. And they weren't threatening idly like and American would. They were quite serious. Even my little host sister, when I told her what happened, she stood up, faced the direction of where I work, and started yelling in Wolof. When she had finished her little tirade, she looked at me and made hand motions telling me that the girl will die. I remind you that my host sister is only 10 years old.

Yesterday, my boss sent me with one of the girls from work to the police station so that I could file a report. I had accidentally forgot the information for my sim card at home, so we had to stop by and get that. When we stopped by my house, the girl started talking with the father of my host family. They talked very animatedly in Wolof for almost half an hour, the girl retelling the events of what had happened. They then started discussing what they should do to resolve the situation. They decided that they wanted to take the three girls who were at work at the time to a marabou (Muslim leader here in Senegal), so that the marabou could point out the thief and then place a curse on her if she didn't immediately give up the phone… the curse being that she would die in three days. Needless to say, this made me a little uneasy. I wanted to get my phone back, but I'm not exactly a fan of placing curses on people, even thieves. But this shows how big of a deal stealing is here (even though it happens ALL the time; I believe I've mentioned that if a thief is pointed out in a market, everyone in the vicinity rushes the thief and beats them within a few inches of death while the police look on). The idea of going to a marabou intrigued me, but I didn't want to be the reason a curse was placed on someone. Marabous in this country are not exactly people to mess around with. They are the ones with all the power (not the government) and it is not unusual for them to curse people or condemn people to death.

I ended up going to the police station this morning instead of going to the marabou. The police station in itself was an experience. The prisoners were in plain view behind bars in the main room of the building. There were two guys: one whose eyes were yellow and looked quite ill was hardly keeping himself upright by holding onto the bars, and the other who must have been about 18 years old and looked like he was in alright shape. I had to explain what happened to a man who wrote a paragraph about me in a little notebook. The man was very confused by the fact that I had both a first and middle name, and was upset that my parents' names were not on my passport. But now, my name, my parents' names, and the fact that they live in Ada, Michigan is forever on record at the Kaolack Police Department. And, in true Senegalese style, after having the paragraph written we had to wander to the post office where we had to buy a stamp (while greeting everyone along the way), and then return to the police station to put the stamp on an official form and have that form stamped six more times or so by a policeman. I took that form to the cell phone company, who within 20 minutes gave me a new sim card with my own phone number on it. And on the way back home I ended up coughing up another $45 for a new phone.

The police told me to return next week to issue an official complaint so that they can investigate the situation, since everyone knows who the thief is. She will get away with it, because I'm sure she has gotten rid of the phone already. But maybe this will be enough to scare her, because jail time for stealing a cell phone here is 2 years… and the jails in Senegal are horrendous.

Work and Family in Kaolack

February 14, 2008

It felt really good to be back in Kaolack again! Great to see my host family and everyone again. And of course, I returned to find not much work waiting for me. My first afternoon back I simply waited for someone to show up to pick up the books, but they never showed up. So I spent the afternoon reading one of the many books. However, there was good news waiting for me… CNN wants to go a report on my project, so hopefully that will happen before I leave for the States.

A teacher came in to pick up books in the afternoon my second day back. It was wonderful! He brought his son to carry all of them to the car. The trunk and backseat were absolutely filled. The teacher thanked be every 30 seconds in both French and English. He was so ecstatic to have the materials. It was wonderful to see.

I don't believe I've mentioned this before, but the father of my host family in Kaolack is incredibly creepy. My host dad in Baobab, although quite an interesting man, always treated me like a daughter and like one of the family. That is not the case in Kaolack. The father of the Kaolack family spends most of his time in Dakar, but comes back to visit every so often. Like my Dakar host dad, he doesn't have a job. When I first met him during my last visit he was a little too welcoming and rushing to my every need, making me incredibly uncomfortable. He often would say things to try to impress me and invite me to take me out dancing or take me on a tour of the city. I always declined. Once he invited me out dancing and told me not to tell his wife. During this trip to Kaolack, he asked me to be his girlfriend. I flat out and abruptly said no, quite loud actually. He tried to turn it into a joke, but then asked if I could hook him up with one of my friends (3 of my friends have come to spend a couple days in Kaolack with me). I again turned him down. He was very insistent saying that he needed a girlfriend and that he liked young women. I told him that American girls like guys their own age, and that my friends weren't interested in him. This morning, he started talking about how he worked in Toubakouta for a while, which is a tourist destination in Senegal. He talked about having an 18 year old foreign girlfriend while working there. And he told me that the only way to get to know a country is to date someone from that country so that they can show you things. He finally convinced himself that one of my male Senegalese friends is my boyfriend (because of course, why on earth would I reject him if I didn't already have a Senegalese boyfriend?!) and he stopped pestering me to go on dates with him.

Amadou, my 18-year old host brother, took me to visit his school last night. He attends a high school about one block away from our house. The thing that struck me at first were all the goats in the schoolyard. There were at least 25 goats wandering around, and Amadou told me that they're always there. During the day, the goats mingle around the school yard among the students. There is trash and sewage in the schoolyard. The sewage is more off on the sides poured out on the ground, but the trash is everywhere (must like the rest of the city). There is a "cyber café" run by one of the students in the upstairs of one of the buildings, which is where I found out Amadou often escapes to when I thought he was somewhere studying. Maguette (my 10 year old host sister) attends the elementary school next door to the high school. There was a rousing game of football (soccer) going on, but the game stopped abruptly so that everyone could wave at me when one kid spotted me watching them.

My Kaolack host family is incredibly nice. They keep telling me that they refuse to let me return to the States. When I left Kaolack this morning, my host mom/sister almost started crying, and yet she knows I'll be coming back in about a week. We sat outside on a blanket last night together and talked (well, I mostly talked to Amadou since I can communicate with him, but my host mom/sister and little sister kept interrupting to tell me that I need to stay in Kaolack). It was really nice, and did feel like a strange little family. I will miss them all very much. Particularly Amadou who was the only one in the family that I could really communicate well with since he speaks French. He definitely helped me keep my sanity during my time in Kaolack.

Village Life - Niakhar Style

One of my good friends here works with a Protestant mission based in Dakar. She works with microfinance education in the villages in the Fatik region of Senegal (between Dakar and Kaolack). I found out last week that the village she was going to visit this past weekend was a village that I had planned on visiting before leaving Senegal. YWAM (Youth With A Mission, the organization I worked with in Costa Rica this past summer) has a base in the same village where she was going. I have been in contact with one of the DTS teachers at the school and had said that I would come visit. So I decided to go the same weekend she was going, and I convinced my friend Sandra to come along with me. The name of the village is Niakhar, and Sandra and I left to go join Anna on a Friday morning.

When we arrived at the transport center, there were no cars available to travel to Fatik, the largest "city" near the village. So instead we had to take a sept-place to Mbour, and then get another from there to Fatik. I always travel in sept-places when traveling between Kaolack and Dakar, so I'm used to them. However, this was Sandra's first experience in one. I think I've said this before, but if I saw a sept-place in the States, I probably wouldn't get in the vehicle. But here, somehow it's different. The sad little car looked like it was well-beyond its last leg. Sandra looked at it and gave me a look that said, "This car actually works? You're expecting me to get in it?" She walked from one end of the car to the other and commented on how she thought one of the tires looked low. But in the end, she ended up climbing into the backseat with me. She was squished between myself and a stranger. When we arrived in Fatik, we hired a taxi to take us the last 15 or so kilometers to the village.

My YWAM friend met us in the "downtown" part of the village and walked us to the YWAM base. The base is set right on the edge of the village. It has about 7 buildings and a large gazebo. We settled into our room and Samba (my friend) gave us a tour of the base. We ate some late dinner and stood on top of the building to watch the stars for a little bit before going to bed (the sky was fantastic because there weren't any lights for quite some distance).

Niakhar is an incredibly peaceful place. There are dogs, pigs, chickens, goats, and sheep running free throughout the village. I have come to associate pigs with Christians. I have never seen one in Dakar, but when you see a pig in a village here that means that there are Christians who live in that village (since Muslims don't eat pork). The village was incredibly calm and quiet, which was a welcomed change from the noise of Dakar. The one thing that wasn't quiet were the donkeys. I woke up several times in the night because donkeys outside felt the need to make their presence known. Many non-governmental organizations have offices in Niakhar, including World Vision and IRD. The majority of people in the village were wearing donated clothes, many obviously from the States.

The next morning we woke up and walked across the village with all the people from the YWAM base to attend church where my friend Anna had been staying. It was a small church service, maybe 20 people in the front yard of the pastor's house. The people of the village are mostly Serer, so the service was conducted in French and Serer. They passed out both French and Serer bibles as well. The songs we sang were also in both languages. The interesting thing about the music was that all the Serer songs were very African. The people had written their own praise songs in Serer with their own traditional music. However, the French songs were a bit more universal. After the service, they split into two groups. A group of women went into the house to discuss their microfinance activities with Anna. The rest stayed out in the yard and prayed for the sick among them. Which included a very ill child, a young woman that everyone said was crazy, and a few other people. They "laid hands on" the sick and prayed for many minutes over each one.

After church we wandered back to the YWAM base for lunch. We ate with the base director and chatted with her for a few hours afterwards. She is Swiss and has lived in Africa for about 35 years, 11 of which have been in that village. She has a heart condition and was told when she was young not to go to Africa because of her health. Her heart condition is worse than mine, but she has only run into problems once since arriving, and that was because she overextended herself with physical labor one day. The town she comes from in Switzerland is about 10 minutes from where I lived when I studied abroad. Needless to say, we got along quite well.

After chatting with her, my friend Samba took us on a tour of nearby smaller villages. We road on the pickup along grass "roads" between the small villages. Small villages in Senegal typically consist of a compound where only a few families live. Most of the buildings are grass huts, but often the building where people sleep is made out of cement. While driving in the pickup children ran after us screaming "TOUBAB!" The people were very nice, as is the norm here in Senegal. We were able to visit the village where my friend was born and lived when he was young. As we left one of the last villages, one woman gave us a HUGE bag of peanuts (which is one of the staple crops in Senegal).

We finished off the evening visiting the family of my friend Samba. We sat and drank Fanta while his siblings finished their homework and his mother worked on some embroidery. The youngest boy of the family was able to speak English, which was a great surprise. He wasn't fluent of course, but my friend Sandra and I asked him all sorts of questions that he was able to answer with simply responses.

On my way home the next morning, I was looking out the window of the pickup truck as we drove out of town… and I spotted someone I knew from Dakar! I was shocked. Never in my life did I think I would randomly run into someone I know when visiting a random village. But it was one of the professors from the language center in Dakar. He is from that village, and was actually sitting in front of the house he grew up in. Unfortunately, the reason he was back in the village was because his father had died. But, it was nice to see him nonetheless, as I had not seen him in over a month. And it turned out that he knew the people I had visited in the village. He had even taught Serer to the YWAM director when she first arrived in Niakhar.

From Niakhar, I travelled to Kaolack. I gave the peanuts to my host mother, and she used them to make a special sauce for the rice we had for lunch.

More Pictures!!!

What have I been up to for the past month? Illness, work, and travelling. Yes, I finally actually got sick here. After 5 months of health watching all my friends get sick one after the other, my number was called. But all is better now. Work is almost finished. And travelling continues. Two weeks remain.

Here are some pictures of the past month.

Soon to follow are blog entries, I promise.

Album #6: http://iwu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030544&l=e87af&id=41600114

Album #7: http://iwu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2030564&l=0a047&id=41600114