It finally came to pass, Kristen and I gave our CereAmine training with 13 women last week. It went very well and they were so enthusiastic about it that they invited us earlier this week to oversee the production of their 2nd batch, which we gleefully did. Coming up next week, we will also be observing one of our trainees give a training to her cooperative starting on Monday. We also received word that the training would be funded by some committee that doles out money specifically for training girls which is a relief as it won’t be coming out of our pocket. I have to say that finding funding is the tricky part. Although, pulling together a small training on something or other isn’t expensive, we spent roughly $100 US but to fund it one either has to find someone to give you $100 as we did or you get the trainees to pony up for all or a portion of the costs and/or the rest comes out of your pocket. The latter is problematic because the RIM volunteers live a pay check to pay check existence over here and given their youth, most don’t have any money stashed away. As for those of us with some means, for our own security, we can’t appear to possess much as it can jeopardize the rest of our existence ie: getting local rather than toubab prices on goods and services or getting constantly approached to help someone clear up some financial debt. Asking for money isn’t as large a social faux pas over here. Relatives are obligated to fork over cash to those who request it. Speaking of goods and services, I am in the market for a used hyma (tent). As we near the summer, I feel it is imperative to create some semblance of shade at my home. I have the veranda that regretfully faces south which warms it to a toasty temperature, never to cool down. Last summer I would douse it with buckets of water in the evening hoping to take advantage of that evaporative cooling technical that I use so often, but shade should do the same trick without having to lug buckets of water across the compound. Inshallah
But I digress. The training went really well once again proving that a small amount of knowledge and an ample amount of chutzpah goes a long, long way. It’s a lot of manual labor but I find sorting the rocks, sticks and whatnot out of kilos of grain rather relaxing. It reminds me of shelling peas with my grandmother, just on a much larger scale. It was pointed out to me that I was trashing too much and needed to be less picky. Who knew that a speckled bean doesn’t represent something gone bad. I do know that you have to be very careful with your peanuts as a bad one can be rather toxic.
When we first arrived, the ladies hadn’t secured a translator. We nearly packed up our 39K of grain and rescheduled to a time when they had one as the next 2 days would have been too frustrating, if not an impossible task, with no common language. But at the last minute, which is how much is done over here, one of the ladies called someone to the rescue. We were a bit concerned when this military fellow walked in wearing combat boots and fatigues but he ended up being brilliant. He was someone’s husband and apparently, luckily, didn’t have to work for the 2 days it took us to complete the training. Once he got into the swing of things, he took his job as translator very seriously, extolling, with vigor (I think), all of our instructions and warnings. Titles and responsibilities are very big over here and are taken quite seriously.
Early in the day the ladies informed us that they were quite capable to clean and roast all of these grains, which they were. They tackled this chore with little fanfare. Each just stepped in where work needed to be done with seemingly little instruction as if they had been working ensemble always. They didn’t have enough equipment to go around, and what they use is the crudest implement; no machinery whatsoever. They just persevered, sharing and making do as needed. I couldn’t have done it even with all of the accoutrements and gadgets available at www.WilliamsSonoma.com. But alas, although they had all the expertise, we needed to get the upper hand. We dismissed their chorus of we weren’t needed till the very end with the knowledge of how to blend all of this into that magical CereAmine and commenced giving them a lecture on hygiene followed by a chase to the spigot and awaiting soap. Sadly, that is a battle that I don’t think we have yet won. We didn’t instill, nor the 40+ years of volunteers ahead of us, the goodness of handwashing. It seems impossible to convince this population that washing your hands is vital to stemming the spread of germs. One lady had just had her henna done the night before and balked at the idea of washing her hands thoroughly to which we replied that she was welcome to keep her newly henna’d hands, but that she would not be participating in this process. Another lady insisted that she was sick so couldn’t wash her hands. Don’t ask me. I have no idea why being sick would prevent one from washing one’s hands. Can one really believe that one’s wellbeing is totally in Allah’s hands? And even if that is true, wouldn’t he/she want us to wash our hands? I believe that he/she would and does. Compound that the general oblivion to the health issue that flies cause and we had our hands full. We were the harping harpys who harp. You know when you watch films of Africa and the children are covered with flies, well that is truly how it is here. It is a heartache to watch baby after baby covered with the pests. The scene often unsettle one’s stomach. So with much insisting, they washed each and every hand. However, it was reminiscent of building gingerbread houses with my niblings (niece and nephews) when they were small. They’d wash their hands but then wipe (read pick) their noses, taste the food, answer their filthy cell phone, sneeze, pass around tea cups, shake unwashed hands and keep on cooking. My idea to keep up this sanitation routine after we were no longer around to lurk over them was to create a Health Officer for each production, if you will. She would be responsible for making sure their hands were washed and that the flies were kept to a minimum. And as I said, they take titles and responsibilities very seriously. Inshallah. Anyway, in the end, I figure, these kids are already eating most of their food that has been prepared by unwashed hands, so any improvement is indeed improvement. Me, on the other hand, have been sick as a dog after all of this socializing, handshaking, holding snotty babies and sharing communal cup-ness. So after 2 days and lots of fun, as we finished roasting each different grain I’d do a little victory jig, we produced 35 kilos of CereAmine that looked and tasted as it should. At the end we spent 45 minutes working through their expenses to arrive at a selling price. (my SED activity aside from finding the client) I’d like to see them eke out a bigger profit but they seemed to be confident on what the market would bear.
We gave out their certificates last Sunday. The folks in Mauritania are huge on receiving certificates. I wanted to give one to our translator, I thought he might be able to use it in his military career- a proven track record as a translator of French. Apparently the key to getting attendance for trainings is to threaten to withhold the certificate from those who don’t come regularly. We, by we I mean Kristin, spent an extraordinary amount of time creating a 12 page “how to” booklets in both French and Arabic replete with a table of how much of each grain to buy if you want to make 2, 6, 12, 35, 72 etc Kilos of CereAmine. The ration is 4,4,2,2,1 of corn, beans, rice, millet and peanuts respectively. It requires a bit too much thinking if you ask me, so a table was just the ticket. Our training used 12,12,6,6,3 and yielded about 35K.
But I digress. The training went really well once again proving that a small amount of knowledge and an ample amount of chutzpah goes a long, long way. It’s a lot of manual labor but I find sorting the rocks, sticks and whatnot out of kilos of grain rather relaxing. It reminds me of shelling peas with my grandmother, just on a much larger scale. It was pointed out to me that I was trashing too much and needed to be less picky. Who knew that a speckled bean doesn’t represent something gone bad. I do know that you have to be very careful with your peanuts as a bad one can be rather toxic.
When we first arrived, the ladies hadn’t secured a translator. We nearly packed up our 39K of grain and rescheduled to a time when they had one as the next 2 days would have been too frustrating, if not an impossible task, with no common language. But at the last minute, which is how much is done over here, one of the ladies called someone to the rescue. We were a bit concerned when this military fellow walked in wearing combat boots and fatigues but he ended up being brilliant. He was someone’s husband and apparently, luckily, didn’t have to work for the 2 days it took us to complete the training. Once he got into the swing of things, he took his job as translator very seriously, extolling, with vigor (I think), all of our instructions and warnings. Titles and responsibilities are very big over here and are taken quite seriously.
Early in the day the ladies informed us that they were quite capable to clean and roast all of these grains, which they were. They tackled this chore with little fanfare. Each just stepped in where work needed to be done with seemingly little instruction as if they had been working ensemble always. They didn’t have enough equipment to go around, and what they use is the crudest implement; no machinery whatsoever. They just persevered, sharing and making do as needed. I couldn’t have done it even with all of the accoutrements and gadgets available at www.WilliamsSonoma.com. But alas, although they had all the expertise, we needed to get the upper hand. We dismissed their chorus of we weren’t needed till the very end with the knowledge of how to blend all of this into that magical CereAmine and commenced giving them a lecture on hygiene followed by a chase to the spigot and awaiting soap. Sadly, that is a battle that I don’t think we have yet won. We didn’t instill, nor the 40+ years of volunteers ahead of us, the goodness of handwashing. It seems impossible to convince this population that washing your hands is vital to stemming the spread of germs. One lady had just had her henna done the night before and balked at the idea of washing her hands thoroughly to which we replied that she was welcome to keep her newly henna’d hands, but that she would not be participating in this process. Another lady insisted that she was sick so couldn’t wash her hands. Don’t ask me. I have no idea why being sick would prevent one from washing one’s hands. Can one really believe that one’s wellbeing is totally in Allah’s hands? And even if that is true, wouldn’t he/she want us to wash our hands? I believe that he/she would and does. Compound that the general oblivion to the health issue that flies cause and we had our hands full. We were the harping harpys who harp. You know when you watch films of Africa and the children are covered with flies, well that is truly how it is here. It is a heartache to watch baby after baby covered with the pests. The scene often unsettle one’s stomach. So with much insisting, they washed each and every hand. However, it was reminiscent of building gingerbread houses with my niblings (niece and nephews) when they were small. They’d wash their hands but then wipe (read pick) their noses, taste the food, answer their filthy cell phone, sneeze, pass around tea cups, shake unwashed hands and keep on cooking. My idea to keep up this sanitation routine after we were no longer around to lurk over them was to create a Health Officer for each production, if you will. She would be responsible for making sure their hands were washed and that the flies were kept to a minimum. And as I said, they take titles and responsibilities very seriously. Inshallah. Anyway, in the end, I figure, these kids are already eating most of their food that has been prepared by unwashed hands, so any improvement is indeed improvement. Me, on the other hand, have been sick as a dog after all of this socializing, handshaking, holding snotty babies and sharing communal cup-ness. So after 2 days and lots of fun, as we finished roasting each different grain I’d do a little victory jig, we produced 35 kilos of CereAmine that looked and tasted as it should. At the end we spent 45 minutes working through their expenses to arrive at a selling price. (my SED activity aside from finding the client) I’d like to see them eke out a bigger profit but they seemed to be confident on what the market would bear.
We gave out their certificates last Sunday. The folks in Mauritania are huge on receiving certificates. I wanted to give one to our translator, I thought he might be able to use it in his military career- a proven track record as a translator of French. Apparently the key to getting attendance for trainings is to threaten to withhold the certificate from those who don’t come regularly. We, by we I mean Kristin, spent an extraordinary amount of time creating a 12 page “how to” booklets in both French and Arabic replete with a table of how much of each grain to buy if you want to make 2, 6, 12, 35, 72 etc Kilos of CereAmine. The ration is 4,4,2,2,1 of corn, beans, rice, millet and peanuts respectively. It requires a bit too much thinking if you ask me, so a table was just the ticket. Our training used 12,12,6,6,3 and yielded about 35K.
Anyway, moving on, since the how to was already written in French, the French part was a cinch and the gods were smiling on us for the Arabic translation. As we were roaming through the market gathering up our milled grains, we ran into our favorite Mauritanian, Sidi, and he offered to do and type the Arabic translation for us. My hero. Then 2 days later when my counterpart requested that we create little product tags, also in French and Arabic, (he must be under the mistaken belief that either Kristen or I are fluent in Arabic. But alas neither of us speaks it let alone reads a word of it. Have you seen much Arabic? It is read from back to front, right to left and in a lovely flourish of marks that are meaningless to me) we ran into Sidi again. This is truly amazing because he just happened to be traveling through Atar on both days as he lives in Chinguetti. Content in hand, translation in hand, the gods truly must love us. Would you like to hear the most difficult part of that damn booklet? Word. It has a “create a booklet” option. Do you think we, by we I mean Kristen, could get the damn thing to work? No. She fussed with that silly program, adjusted graphics, margins, reconfiguring the page organization so that page 5 would print opposite page 6 and so forth, for 2 days. I gave up after 45 minutes, she persevered. My advise, never, ever, ever use that damn option.
.
During the making of the 2nd batch, in an effort to get to know me better I suppose, one of the ladies asked the dreaded question “Am I married”. I said “no”. She asked “not ever married?” I said “no”. “No Children?”, “No, I have no children”. Kristen is doing most of the translating at this point. After a bit more being said like the usual retort that in America it is not necessary for a woman to be married and she can also life alone- not with a male relative, in peace and harmony. And continuing with we come from 2 different cultures and that I have made a choice that is culturally appropriate in my culture, blah, blah, blah, blah. To this she smiled and basically responded that my life as a barren spinster (I put that part in) is meaningless or useless, I forget. Aye yii yii yiii!. I will admit it got under my skin a bit. Come on! I have decided to leave my cushy albeit meaningless or useless, I forget, life to come to Mauritania and help these women create a new source of income. But hey, who is keeping score that way. Here, it’s about how many babies you can produce. Happy is the bride who conceives a son straight away. If none, your husband can and should leave you. Why earth would he keep you? Let’s just say that here, there is a different expectation of marriage. I just shake my head and roll my eyes and hope that bravado carries me through. It is not as if I don’t hear the same sentiment back home every so often. No doubt many think it; few have been brave enough to put the question to me. I recall while at my cousin funeral, sitting in the family section, his brother, who I hadn’t seen since I was 3, leaned over and asked me if I were married. I wasn’t even 30 at that point. I responded “No”. To which he returned an “I’m Sorry” as if I had been the victim of some tragedy or had just lost my brother to cancer. Clearly this has stuck with me lo these many years. Clearly, we are all not so different after all. However, what I don’t want to have happen is that I somehow lose credibility because my life choices don’t conform to their cultural standards. Singleness or spinsterness in my case, isn’t the only issue that many volunteers opt not to share with the locals. One’s religious beliefs: Jewish or worse, Atheist, as well as homosexuality are not subjects many choose to tackle. So I’ll wait and see how it all shakes out. She had followed up that she had many questions for me. I asked “:What’s question number 1?” but the subject just kind of dropped. But it appears that all is well as my counterpart was in our bureau today and said that the feedback he has received from the gals has been very, very positive.
So this Saturday, we will be standing side by side with them handing out CereAmine literature at the local Fete de Femme (International Women’s Day, March 8) celebration. Anyone who is anyone in Atar society will be there. Then next week we will sit in on one of our trainee’s trainings. Many more lives touched.
I took and will take photos and shot much movie footage so as soon as we, by we I mean Kristen, can pull something creative together, I’ll get it posted.
Lastly, this morning (Wed) we stopped by the local Les Enfants Du Desert that is going to be the test case and made the acquaintance of Fatimatou the manager and her assistant Fatimatou too. We stayed for almost an hour talking, gathering specifics on their portions and playing with the kids. They were adorable. I anticipate that I will be spending much time this summer helping out at the center integrating, using my French, staving off utter slothfulness. Otherwise my summer will be full of sweating, napping and wishing I were elsewhere. Later today, (Wed) we stopped by the LEDD office and learned that Aicha won’t be back until the 23rd so it seems that the trial is pushed back a week. All the better, we need to get 40 more Kilo’s of CereAmine produced to fulfill their request.
A very interesting side note, there are fliers around the market posting fines for littering- 500 um and peeing on the walls- 1000 um. I suppose with the new sidewalks that are being installed by an apparent Atar Beautification program, they don’t want them instantly defiled. I wished they’d do the same thing for spitting. But hey, it’s a start.
I have or am in the process of posting more photos from WAIST and my Garden.
.
During the making of the 2nd batch, in an effort to get to know me better I suppose, one of the ladies asked the dreaded question “Am I married”. I said “no”. She asked “not ever married?” I said “no”. “No Children?”, “No, I have no children”. Kristen is doing most of the translating at this point. After a bit more being said like the usual retort that in America it is not necessary for a woman to be married and she can also life alone- not with a male relative, in peace and harmony. And continuing with we come from 2 different cultures and that I have made a choice that is culturally appropriate in my culture, blah, blah, blah, blah. To this she smiled and basically responded that my life as a barren spinster (I put that part in) is meaningless or useless, I forget. Aye yii yii yiii!. I will admit it got under my skin a bit. Come on! I have decided to leave my cushy albeit meaningless or useless, I forget, life to come to Mauritania and help these women create a new source of income. But hey, who is keeping score that way. Here, it’s about how many babies you can produce. Happy is the bride who conceives a son straight away. If none, your husband can and should leave you. Why earth would he keep you? Let’s just say that here, there is a different expectation of marriage. I just shake my head and roll my eyes and hope that bravado carries me through. It is not as if I don’t hear the same sentiment back home every so often. No doubt many think it; few have been brave enough to put the question to me. I recall while at my cousin funeral, sitting in the family section, his brother, who I hadn’t seen since I was 3, leaned over and asked me if I were married. I wasn’t even 30 at that point. I responded “No”. To which he returned an “I’m Sorry” as if I had been the victim of some tragedy or had just lost my brother to cancer. Clearly this has stuck with me lo these many years. Clearly, we are all not so different after all. However, what I don’t want to have happen is that I somehow lose credibility because my life choices don’t conform to their cultural standards. Singleness or spinsterness in my case, isn’t the only issue that many volunteers opt not to share with the locals. One’s religious beliefs: Jewish or worse, Atheist, as well as homosexuality are not subjects many choose to tackle. So I’ll wait and see how it all shakes out. She had followed up that she had many questions for me. I asked “:What’s question number 1?” but the subject just kind of dropped. But it appears that all is well as my counterpart was in our bureau today and said that the feedback he has received from the gals has been very, very positive.
So this Saturday, we will be standing side by side with them handing out CereAmine literature at the local Fete de Femme (International Women’s Day, March 8) celebration. Anyone who is anyone in Atar society will be there. Then next week we will sit in on one of our trainee’s trainings. Many more lives touched.
I took and will take photos and shot much movie footage so as soon as we, by we I mean Kristen, can pull something creative together, I’ll get it posted.
Lastly, this morning (Wed) we stopped by the local Les Enfants Du Desert that is going to be the test case and made the acquaintance of Fatimatou the manager and her assistant Fatimatou too. We stayed for almost an hour talking, gathering specifics on their portions and playing with the kids. They were adorable. I anticipate that I will be spending much time this summer helping out at the center integrating, using my French, staving off utter slothfulness. Otherwise my summer will be full of sweating, napping and wishing I were elsewhere. Later today, (Wed) we stopped by the LEDD office and learned that Aicha won’t be back until the 23rd so it seems that the trial is pushed back a week. All the better, we need to get 40 more Kilo’s of CereAmine produced to fulfill their request.
A very interesting side note, there are fliers around the market posting fines for littering- 500 um and peeing on the walls- 1000 um. I suppose with the new sidewalks that are being installed by an apparent Atar Beautification program, they don’t want them instantly defiled. I wished they’d do the same thing for spitting. But hey, it’s a start.
I have or am in the process of posting more photos from WAIST and my Garden.
Don’t forget that I have a new phone especially for calls from the US. It is 222- 202-1804
2 comments:
I'm proud of you and you should be too. You ARE doing something that will have lasting value to many, many people. I haven't had time to read your blogs this year but I woke up at 5AM, worrying about work, as usual, so I took the time to read your new postings and was entertained while beig informed, as usual. You should be happy to learn that if you were still here, in the "land of milk and honey" and working for MH, you would be facing yet another "reorganization" that promises to move "media sales" to New Jersey soon. I am thinking about doing the 3-day, 60 mile walk for a (breast cancer) cure. I know you did a similar walk before you joined the PC. Was it this one? Please keep your fans (like me) posted on how the cereal sales are going in Atar.I mailed you a care package yesterday with two James Patterson Alex Cross novels and some other goodies that I hope you will enjoy. Stay safe and cool. My thoughts are with you.
Yes, it was the Susan B Komen 3 Day Breast Cancer Walk....good golly it's a challenge. good luck...use your moleskin
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