Another Big Announcement

Only a month until I go to my final site and I've been told where it will be- Nema, the regional capital of Hod Esharghi. I can't say how excited I am about this. Nema is a large city by Mauritanian standards, about 45,000 people. The Peace Corps hasn't operated there since the 90's, so it's also a big honor to be selected as the one to lay the groundwork for future programs and to be the trailblazer for projects, the face of America where American's don't go. Wish me luck!

Otherwise, things are great. I've finished the first phase of training, and I am confident that my French skills are developing as they need to. A little more time with verb drills and word memorization will help, but I'm on track. My time with my host family has been great, and while only one of them speaks (pigeon) French, that has given me an opportunity to practice communication with folks with whom I shouldn't be able to communicate.

And I have a pet, sort of. A beautiful black baby goat. I named her Babe, as an homage to my siblings. They often joke about my height and have remarked about Paul Bunyan's blue ox, whose name was Babe. Babe is a wonderful pet, though I am beginning to think that she may wind up being a meal before I leave town. I hope not. She's learned to eat out of my hand, and she lies down next to me on the tapi (a large plastic woven mat for both inside and outside).

I feel like I should be having a harder time with things like that, but it's been really easy acclimating so far (famous last words). A goat walks into class? Shoo it out. Another eats from the couscous plate before we cook? It's still good, just shoo the goat away (that's a major part of the schedule). Animal waste all through the streets? That's why I wear shoes. Sheeps bleat, cocks crow, it's just background music.

That isn't to say that life is without challenges. I'm very disturbed by what some humans do. Trash is dumped in town, an area is picked out as the location for all rubbish. Eventually it's either burned our hauled out of town, and then the hole is available for...more trash. In Kaedi, the dump is beside the market and the water sources. Kids run and play in it, dig through it to find treasures. The parents watch. Or don't, but are aware where the kids are.

I'd like to say that this is a project I'll focus on, but there are so many, and there's so little time. My first three months will be spent getting to know Nema, my final three months wrapping up projects. That leaves me a year and a half to work in nutrition, pre-natal health, FGM, water born illnesses, trash management, basic sanitation, malaria, and the list goes on.

There's a lot of work to do, certainly, and I'll never be bored. I can't wait to get started, get to know my peers, and find out what Nema really needs and what Nema realy wants.

A Day In the Life

NB- I'm sarcastic in my writing, but I love it here. Bear that in mind.

Around six or so every morning I wake up to a fresh, new day as I peer through my mosquito tent. It may be outside, it may be in my room. That depends on the weather. The rainy season has arrived, so every three or four days the skies open and the wrath of God thunders down on humanity. But only for an hour or so, then it's back to hot and dry. Apparently God is getting lazy in his old age.

I like to start my day cleaning up. There's no better way to perk up and feel refreshed than to fill a bucket with a hose and then to gradually poor that water over yourself with a cup. Unless you also use soap derived from peanuts! That's living.

After a breakfast of bread and nescafe I make my way to class, where I study introductory French with three other volunteers in Bababe, a small community about fifteen miles outside of Kaedi. It's slow going, but I'm not that bright, so it works for me.

Because the climate is a consistent sunny and hot, the afternoons are reserved for not dying. Everyone goes home and sleeps, eats lunch, sleeps, drinks a bit of tea, and maybe sleeps a bit more. But then it's all business. Another two hours of work, then back home for dinner and sleep.

There are eight Peace Corps trainees in Bababe, so we get together pretty much every day. That's the best way for us to guarantee a limited language immersion. We all brought cards, games, and stories, so we share those around more than a little. Hearts is a big passtime, as is Uno.

And then there's the market! I've become very comfortable going to the one store with refrigeration. Power hasn't come to Bababe yet, but one enterprising entrepeneur brought in a fridge with gas power, so I have access to tepid coke. My fellow trainees who are living outside the villages think that I'm living a froo-froo lifestyle, but they're just jealous.

After a long day of sleeping, studying French, and hanging out with my peers I go back home to try to communicate with my family. Sure, they don't speak French, and no, I don't speak Hassaniya, but we manage to share our mutual feelings. Which generally amount to "What the hell?"

I like to spend my night looking at the stars. They're very clear, and with no ambient light, it's easy to see every point of light. Then, at 10, it's back to bed. I think I've earned a good night's sleep. And I'd better be well rested for tomorrow's big day of sleeping.

Updates from Mauritania

Before coming to Mauritania, I did my best not to think about what I would see or find. After all, how could I possibly imagine what I would really be seeing? How could I anticipate a developing country half a world away from where I grew up?

With a week of experience, I am glad that that was my approach. I think that the culture shock has been less since I was coming in ready for whatever I saw. And I've been learning so much, my horizons are broadened.

For instance, I never realized how wasteful we are in the west. For years I've been going to the grocery store to get rolls and rolls of toilet paper, using gas, money, and tree pulp. Why didn't I see earlier that it was all unnecessary as long as I have a perfectly good left hand?

Or wastebins. We put so much effort into finding a bin, putting our trash in it, having the trash taken to the dump. Trucks, gas, bins, man-hours. So much extraneous work when all we have to do is toss it out into the streets. Worried about tetanus? I wouldn't. It's really best not to think about it. Don't know how to handle the enormous buildup over time? What the ferrel goats don't eat will be periodically burned, allowing everyone to enjoy the flavorful aroma of smoldering rubber.

I don't want you to think that everything is different, though. Wherever you go, there are similarities between people. For instance, both in the US and in Mauritania you will always find people. Carbon based ones. Yes, if you look for the similarities, the differences just fade away.

Much as I'd love to share more, I need to go pack my bags. Tomorrow morning I leave for Baba Bay, where I will be secluded for three weeks while I study French and either Hassaniya or Pulaar, and I have a good three hours of squatting over a hole in sheet of concrete resting over a massive hole in the ground, and I just can't wait to get started!