Hi Loved Ones, The Results
I am just about to head out for WAIST. West African Invitational Softball Tournament held in Dakar Senegal. I will leave early on the 13th for NKT to arrive early afternoon. Inshallah. We have purchased every seat in a taxi, so it should leave according to our schedule. Yeah right, Inshallah. This went just about as planned. The cab driver scolded us (Ellen) about being on time then he ended up oversleeping so we got off about 45 minutes later than planned. But we made it to NKT in 5.5 hours, which is really quite fast. In ample time for a salad at the Cafe Sahara. And Chinese for Dinner. 
Chinese Restaurant
On the 14th am we have a Safety and Security meeting at the bureau. These meetings have traditionally been planned solely as a way to bring us together so that we can head, ensemble, down to WAIST. But this year, with the terrorist attacks, it should be an informative meeting. You will be glad to know that we were assured by the Ambassador and our Country Director that our safety is reviewed at every opportunity and in their professional opinion, we are safe. If there could be a silver lining to these events it is that it has necessitated the government (RIM) to refocus on an issue that heretofore may have been ignored, swept under the rug if you will. The good news from the Ambassador, other then our assured safety, is that at a recent pledging conference, Mauritania received half a billion dollars more than requested for development from the International Community. They, like me, must feel that this country, unknown to many, is important in this region. An Islamic country with a fledgling democracy and an affinity for the West, and in particular the Americans, are few and far between therefore their relations and well being should be fostered.
We were also addressed by the head medical officer for Peace Corps West Africa, who served in Zaire during the 80's. A friend of my sister's was also in Zaire in the 80's. I asked him if, by chance, he knew Paula, and indeed he did. He reminisced a bit. What a small world. The bulk of his presentation was on the 3 medical issues that cause him the most concern because they can cause us to lose life or limb. He also expanded on the recent the change in Peace Corps policy which rather than hand holding and coddling volunteers, they want to develop resilient volunteers: ie quit calling the PCMO with every hang nail. Although a very reasonable request, this policy is vastly different from the recruitment information which implies they will coddle your every hang nail. For your edification the top 3 medical issues here in West Africa are first and foremost, Malaria. We, North Americans, have no resistance, no natural immunity built up over generations living amongst that pesky parasite, therefore taking our medication is imperative. Even on the medication, one can still contract the disease, just not in a lethal dose. Mashallah or Inshallah, I don’t know which really applies in this case. Inshallah you don’t get it. Mashallah, that if you do get it, that it’s not fatal. Secondly in line are skin infections specifically below your knee which might lead to a loss of a limb or 2 and finally AIDS. He was very frank in his presentation, which I appreciate, so I will leave the details to private conversations
After the meeting, in the late afternoon, there is softball practice at the local stadium. As I have no talent in the baseball/softball realm, I will be spectating. In a burst of folly, I volunteered to be the Equipment Manager for our C team, the Buccaneers. My first and only responsibility was to get the bats, balls, mitts and med kit to Dakar and to all of the Buccaneer games. I was either one of the best or worst Equipment Managers in the history of the event. My decline started the first night in Dakar. When we arrived the instructions were as follows: hose volunteers with home stays stayed at the Club Atlantique, formerly the American Club; those of us with hotels were to get directly back on the bus. Do not pass go, do not drink beer. Naturally I didn’t want to drag a heavy bag of crap to the hotel; thusly I looked for an alternative. I was assured by some fella who seemed to be authoritatively handing out instructions, that indeed, the equipment could be left at the club. But first, I needed to sign in, just get in line behind that mass of people, and then all would be well. I didn’t have time to sign in as I had to get back on the bus so I did the next best thing. I assigned, delegated if you will, our equipment to the Most Responsible Volunteers in our Crew. Who also happened to be the Equipment Managers for our B team, the Swashbucklers? They would be hanging at the club waiting for their home stay hosts to pick them up so it was no problem, they’d just stack it all together. The equipment bags were those enormous handled plastic bag that are ubiquitous in Africa and Asia. They are often used as luggage rather than Samsonite on air flights. The Buccaneer bag was a Mickey and Minnie Mouse theme replete with English non sequiturs so you couldn't miss it. Equipment safely secured, I went back to the bus in search of a late dinner and some sleep. The next morning the Buccaneers were the first on the schedule with a 9 am first pitch. I arrived at the club plenty early, in time to search out the equipment. I grab a Bloody Mary to ease into the day and off I go to search for the Mickey and Minnie full of mitts, to no avail. There is no equipment. No, the equipment wasn’t allowed to be left at the club overnight. No sight of the fellow who was so willy nilly handing out bad advise the previous night. And lastly, no Most Responsible Volunteers in the Crew to be found as the B team didn’t play until much later in the day and now way to get a hold of them as we, the few who bothered to buy new Sim cards for Senegal, had not exchanged telephone numbers. Crap. OK, let's evaluate my performance thus far. I did get the equipment to Dakar but not to the first game. I calculate my batting average is 500. Ely, the Buccaneer Capt'n assured me that it is not the end of the world. Worst case; we could borrow mitts, bats and balls from the opposing team. So I finished my Bloody Mary, as we were playing on the “dry” field, double crap, and off I went. Low and behold, there in the stands I spyed the Most Responsible Volunteers in our Crew. They had gotten to the field even before me and went directly to the field. Did not pass go. Did not go directly to the bar. They have the moniker Most Responsible Volunteers in our Crew for a reason. You can draw your own conclusions about me.
Do you know the rules of softball? I didn’t. They are slightly different from baseball. First, there are only 7 innings. During one at bat, each team can only go through their line up once then the field turns over to the other team. There are 4 out fielders, this took some getting used to as I kept thinking we had too many players on the field. And finally, there is the mercy rule. If a team is up by 15, the game is over. I believe that happened in the first inning of the first game, not to the Buccaneers advantage.
For practice and to save some face, we kept playing a bit longer. Even still the game finished much earlier than I expected. As I am lounging by the pool with my Mimosa, I spy my entire team heading in from the field. Yikes, I needed to go gather up the equipment and the field is quite a ways away. Crap, this is really not going well. Yet I contend that a big part of being an effective leader is surrounding yourself, vous meme, with capable minions. And luckily mine were in top form. They had loaned the equipment to PC Gambia who was playing the next game on the field and lacked mitts and bats. I scurried up to them, explained that I was the Equipment Manager and if they would be so kind as to please when they were finished, pack up Mickie and Minnie and I'd be back in an hour. On s'en vas back to the bar was my battle cry. When I returned it was all neatly organized and ready for me to lug to the opposite field. This went on for the next 7 games. Luckily for me and for PC Gambia, all of our games were on the same fields, one after the next, so I had yet more minions to help me keep hold of that Mickey bag-o-mitts.
As I said, I was either the best or the worst Equipment Manager in the history of Waist. In my defense, I was reliably found at the bar or the pool when any questions would arise. I am an excellent delegator as many can attest. Finally, that we loaned our equipment to the Gambian team, I was charged with the logistics of equipping twice as many games. Give me a gold star!
In between there will be Pizza, Salad, Beer and Chinese Food, Salad, Chinese and Beer not in that particular order. I may even try to fit in a massage, I might have a connection. No Massage. Then, early to bed, early to rise as we board a bus at 5am the 15th for the trip to Dakar. We took off closer to 6 but that is on time by African standards. Feel free to search the web for the blogs from last year’s bus trip to WAIST. There was an incident with a wheel barrel that lead to the bus getting stuck in the sand and another incident of the driver getting lost and in the turning around at the dead end, once again managing to get the bus stuck in the sand Finally the driver didn’t know his way around Dakar thus extending an already grueling trip. This year Obie promises a better outcome although he won’t be with us. There were no major incidents; it's just a long damn trip. At least I don't believe that there were any incidents. We may have gotten lost in Dakar. We arrived at the city limits at 6:30 in Friday rush hour traffic (apparently they didn't switch their weekend around) and it took us 2.5 hours to get to the club. It felt as if we were going in circles. There is tons of traffic, it is a city of 10 million. Could that be right? And they are doing road construction as was done in the 70's in the US, by all appearances without the traffic management. I can not explain to you how poorly the traffic was managed. Roundabouts and overpasses are being constructed at every intersection, most of which are only partially complete. This being the case, the result was that the half of cars on the freeway were forced to make u turns, in both directions, into the oncoming traffic on at least 5 different occasions, snarling the traffic even snarlier. Added to this, we were 2 tour buses trying to keep together behind our lead car as he was the only one who knew the way. It must have been a nightmare for the drivers. Our's was in quite a state when he finally deposited us at the club, quite ready to quit. It was his first trip to Dakar and I would wager his last.
As for me, I found, other then the long journey, it was quite fine. Far better then taxi brousse as I had my own seat. I was unsure of our day's itinerary so I packed a picnic of Goat Cheese and Fois Gras on Endive finished with lovely French butter cookies. All it needed was a lovely Pinot Noir. Yes, I discovered that those items can be purchased (except the Pinot Noir) in NKT for a hefty sum at Marche Salam. I could do another blog on that place. Let's just suffice it to say; when I left Marche Salam I was rather depressed. If you will recall from another blog, that such luxuries are available in country just not in Atar, and that reality is far more demoralizing then if it weren't available at all. This depression lead me to Gin and the haircutting party. Pictures soon to be on flickr.
Historically home stays are arranged for us during WAIST but this year we are just too numerous for that, so I will be staying in a hotel. I do not know which one. I can’t say that I am sorry. I wasn’t really looking forward to staying with strangers. It’s less appealing than a box of chocolates and still you never know what you’re gonna get. At least in a hotel I am assured of a bed. Inshallah. I could not have been more wrong, well partially wrong. I did have a bed. It just happened to be smack dab in the middle of a whorehouse. Although the term whorehouse offended a few, evidently a bit too harsh for their sensibilities. Let’s call it a brothel, a house if ill repute; Will suggested we call it the House of the Rising Sun but in my estimation that romantic view of whorehouse is only applicable if you are a teenage virgin. Let's leave it with next year I am booking my own room.
WAIST is 3 days of softball revelry…beer, hotdogs and pirate costumes. I envisioned it akin to Over-The Line in San Diego. And we behaved that way on the first day. Day 2 we got scolded as it wasn't a bawdy Over-The-Line environment but a social league family event. Oooops, to bad those names were in indelible ink on the back of our only t-shirts. In the words of my niece, Aimee, "Tomorrow, I will be a good girl" YeeHa. Maybe I’ll even meet someone my own age to hang with. It could happen. It didn't, not exactly. The event is at the American Club and includes a whole bunch of American organizations. Mali Peace Corps, Senegal Peace Corps, Guinea aka team Guinea Worm, Benin and The Gambia as well (both are enormous programs) as well as some Missionary Girls Jr High School to name a few, bring multiple teams. There is apparently a huge expat population in Dakar. We, the PC RIM Pirates will be fielding 3 teams. Our A team has won the tournament for the last 2 or 3 years so the bar is set pretty high to play on that team. We took the trophy for 2nd. (A side note, the Mali Country Director visited our, at that time, new bureau in Nouakchott and while visiting, she stole the trophy. Before the latest attacks, some of their volunteers were suppose to come through and return it. But travel to Mauritania by other Peace Corps programs has been suspended….so I suppose they will be bring our trophy directly to Dakar. The bus ride will be lonely without it). Our B team is labas (okay), one year it was beat by the little mission girls, much to their shame, thus they have been a bit more serious since. The C team is just a bunch of drunks who, by the end of the game, are playing in their underwear. Yes, there are pictures Inshallah! Mashallah. I will be a drunken spectator, Mashallah—hopefully wearing something more than my underwear. Sadly, I received no pirate gear in my wonderful care packages so I’ll have to improvise a costume. For your edification, The American Club is located near one of the lighthouses in Dakar. It’s the lighthouse that is located on the furthest Western Point in West Africa. .I tried to find info on it the club on the web but had no luck. Next year I hope to stay an extra couple of days to see some sights and do some shopping. With 6 games a day to attend there was time for little else. Dakar is an amazingly vibrant city. Of course, as always, that is relative. You, stepping off at Dakar International from the Land of Milk and Honey would probably see a rundown, impoverished African city complete with sheep and the odd cow tether to every lamp post, stop sign, car frame available. Which reminds me, for a dose of the reality of the cuisine here go to John in Nouadhibou's recent blog. I added the link to mine. But that it had lamp posts and stop signs was something to behold. I saw road signs, flashing neon lights, speed limits, pavement markings, everyone in the cab gets her own seat, bill boards, restaurants, banks with atm's and the pièce de résistance, live music at a bar. Paradise Found.
I will depart from Dakar the morning of the 19th and probably cross the border that same day and spend the night in Rosso. Just stopped in Rosso and have another story to tell over drinks about finding a cab Then directly back to Atar on the 20th, with no stop in NKT. I did stop in NKT, Obie was kind enough to dole out an extra day for us weary travelers. Those will be 2 very long days. Not that you need this much detail about my itinerary, I just seem to have gotten carried away. I suppose you could follow along on a map. Doris would if she were alive.
On the 20-21 we, the Atar volunteers, are having a lunar eclipse party. I slept through it Then after a long nap I will launch headlong into French Well I overslept for my first class back, a long nap was necessary, so possibly "launch headlong" was a bit ambitious
and also quickly pull together that CereAmine training. We need to not only securing the ingredients with who knows what money, but also translate a little take away How To booklet from French into Hassaniya. Do you know anyone that can type in Arabic? Neither do I. I also need to learn a handful of verbs in both French and Hassaniya for the actual training: to roast, to clean, to dry, to grind, to blend, watch your fingers, watch my fingers, get your unwashed fingers out of the peanut butter. You know, the usual. See last blog.
I should be picking up my Chingatel phone while I am in NKT. So in 2 days, I should have much better cell phone service while here in the RIM. I’ll send the phone number and post it on my blog as soon as I get it. I did and I do, the new number is on the blog
As for here, the weather has turned hot. I am praying with all of my soul that it’s just a spell and not the onset of an early summer. Did the groundhog see its shadow? It was 99 degrees on Sunday; my room has jumped from a steady 71 degrees for these many weeks to 80. I will be very sad if summer is arriving the beginning of February. I hoped to stay cool till the end of March. No such luck, it is blazing in Atar today
Dakar should be cool—low in the 60s high in the 70s—(yes, it’s all relative) I can’t wait to huddle in the frosty 70 degree weather with my cold beer and steaming hotdog---Good lord, I almost forget, there is coffee in Senegal, latte’s even. Hallelujah! Maybe I can join Peace Corps Senegal and get out of this sober, coffee starved, cuisine starved, ridiculous long skirted, sexually repressed, with the odd terrorist attack @$$@^%$*& hole. Just kidding, I love this place. I am committed or committable. Take your pick.
Schizophrenically, I am sad to leave my garden unattended for a week. Today, the carrots and peppers sprouts are just showing their little green heads. Nothing yet from the beets, radishes or sweet peas but a week without water in the Sahara should do the trick. The sunflowers are faring the best by far. All is surprisingly well. The peppers didn't make it. But the sunflowers are amazing.
Also, tonight is my first class back at the French alliance since Dec. I didn’t take last session because a. I greatly dislike their teaching methods and b. I would miss weeks of classes with the Christmas holiday. But alas, my French needs much work so I am going to subject myself to another 5 weeks of bad teaching methods in hopes that it will help. I did request a conversation class vs sitting listening to scratchy cassettes. The director made a note. We’ll see. I will be in class (when not traveling ) Sun – Thurs 6 – 8 pm. Yesterday being Sunday (remember the weekend change), technically, should have been the first class but last night was the finals of the African Cup thus the first day of class was postponed. As of this typing, I don’t know who won, Egypt or Cameroon. Egypt
Okay, that’s it from here. I’ve rambled long enough---it’s almost a blog. It is now a blog
Yes, I will be very careful traveling, I will keep a low profile in NKT and have no fear, I have no intention of going to any nightclubs or the Israeli Embassy.
Cheers from here,
Happy Valentines Day,
Happy President's Day
