The Countdown

94 days.

I should start making a list of all of the things that I am going to miss once I leave. I could go on a big appreciation rampage. That ought to make the time go a little faster. Of course, an appreciation rampage will be hard to muster up while I am swimming in a pool of sweat. But I'll try.

Cheers from here

Things are Winding Down

My service is nearly complete. I've just a few more months left. My official Close of Service (COS) date is August 6th. There are a couple little projects I want to complete before I leave, but otherwise, I am done. I will be traveling through Eastern Mauritania into Mali which will take most of June and July will be spend packing up and closing down, then I leave. So really I have only whats left of April and May to accomplish anything. I want to get some more footage of the making of CereAmine so that I can piece together a little movie. Hopefully my ladies will be accomodating and I will be able to do that towards the end of this month. Actually, I guess that is the only little project I want to complete.

Now I suppose it's time to focus on my trip home, which will be long, and my job hunt, which I pray will not be long. For anyone trying to pencil in my arrival in San Diego, don't. Where I will end up, what I will be doing is unknown. I am trying to embrace the undertainty. The only thing I know for certain is that I am going to have to mouch off my dear, dear friends as I make my way home. If you've got a spare bed, a comfy couch or a pulled pork sandwich with a side of broccoli (don't let me get started on menu's) let me know.

Cheers from here,

Remis is an understatement

Yes, I know it has been a long, long time since I have posted anything. I'd wish I could say that I have been so overloaded with work that I haven't had time. but that would be a lie. Just take a look at my Books Read list....I should add a "movies and series downloaded" list as well. God bless utorrent.

So, in the spirit of St. Patty, my favorite Saint next to Nick, I will not only chase the snakes out of Mauritania, I will make a new post soon.

Cheers from here.

Happy New Year

Well, you would have thought I'd seen it all by now but,

Yesterday, I was at the Hotel Mermoz, the place I am consider switching to (away from my darling Hotel la Residence) during Jazz Fest because they have a lovely pool in a tropical setting where I spent much of my time last year. It will be very hot here in May.

So, I'm in the bathroom at this upscale resort with it's tight security against the riffraff. I walk out to the common sink area to find a man washing his penis in the sink. To answer the standard questions I have received so far. Was he Senegelese? I don't know, I didn't ask for his ID, but he was black and spoke french so I would assume yes. Next, did he seem embarrassed? Answer: he didn't seem to be but he did go back into his stall to shake it off.

My reaction? After washing my hands while shaking my head and snickering to myself, was glee that yet again I have another juicy tid bit to share with you. Mind you, this is certainly not the first penis I have seen out in public during my time here in Africa. It's actually quite common. But they are usually attached to the very young or the very old, who have lost all of their modesty and are squatting out in the street doing their business. This is, however, the oddest episode.

I think I have been here a little too long.

To a Happy, Healthy and Prosperous New Year

Tobaski in Tawaz

Yesterday (Monday) was Tobaski, the fete of the Sheep. Actually I don't think the sheep enjoy it all that much. What, you don't know what Tobaski is? Well here's you Islam lesson meeting my cultural exchange requirement for the PC. Actually it’s probably a Ye Olde Testament tale. Once upon a time, God told Abraham that he must sacrifice his son to prove his devotion. Apparently Abraham agreed to this. Since he was willing to forsake his most precious possession for God, Allah was merciful and allowed him to sacrifice a sheep instead. So on Tobaski, Muslim households slaughter a sheep and eat meat ALL day. Afterward, once the blood has been washed from the streets, they then parade around town in new clothes.

I spent this holiday out in Tawaz, a little village just outside of Atar. Kelsea and I arose rather late considering we had a 9 am appointment for Tagine. Why we had to arrive at 9 is a bit confusing as the men were still off at prayer and none of the sheep had been put to the knife yet. After 3 casses of tea and conversation we finally sit down for Tagine about 11am. But before you can have Tagine, which is a meat and onion dish, you must have Mishwee, which is only grilled meat. Our contained some of you and I would call meat as it was still on the bone as well as the liver.    I am normally not much of an organ fan, but I could can use the added iron, so into my mouth went the bloody pieces of liver. Please don't send me the hazards of eatting liver rare. Next came the Tagine. A bowlful of delectible morsels (not)  However, this is the perfect opportunity to take some candid photos of life here in the RIM....so after I lick my hand clean, I grab my camera.  Not long after, we were summoned to the next house.

It’s now 1 pm and we are sitting down to yet another plate of Tagine at another household. For some crazy reason, I thought these meals would be spaced out a bit more…I believe a reasonable assumtion considering they were suppose to start at 9. This plate of Tagine contains not only meat but lung, liver, kidney, stomach and intestine. Yummy! One of the habits that I admire and respect here, is that nothing goes to waste.  The world could take some lessons on recycling and reusing from Mauritania. That goes for their meat consumption as well. The bits and pieces of the animal that we consume over here could be viewed as rather or extremely distasteful.  But darn it, nothing goes to waste. When an animal is slaughtered the only parts not devoured are the ears, tail and hooves. I'll spare you the details of how they crack the lower jaw to get to the tongue (a delicacy).....Or maybe I wont.  Honestly, the bones are sucked of their marrow. 

At this point, Kelsea has taken to fake eating.  However, she happens to mention that I (pointing at me)  enjoy the stomach.  And in pure Mauritanian hospitality, everyone around the plate pitches their portion of the stomach to yours truly. I could have killed her. Crap!  Okay, I don’t mind the stomach, but if given the choice I’d prefer a porterhouse, t-bone, filet mignon (oh wait that is beef). 

Shortly afterwards, we are served Maro which is a rice dish with a few carrots yet more meat. I was told that the rice is served after all the meat to keep us from getting diarrhea. Oh goodie. The last time I had tagine in Tawaz I was left rather ill. I had been invited out to dine with the college director for the PC’s APCD visit.  After the mandatory Mishwee, we were served Tagine. I took a bite of intestine and the taste was B I T T E R. Clearly it had not been cleaned thoroughly.  EeeeGads.  I didn’t feel I could spit it out as the meal was attended by the village dignitaries. I didn’t want to embarrass the host and hostess.  So I washed the image from my mind and just swallowed (certainly not the first time in my life), knowing that I would have to deal with the ramifications later. Little did I know just how dearly I’d be paying for it. It took 2 weeks for my bowels to straighten the whole mess out and the first 2 days spent with a high fever and frequent dashes to the toilet. Yes a 3rd bout of delirium in as many months. One would think my immune system would be working at peak performance by now. So this time as I eased the bloody liver into my mouth, I said a little prayer. A grace, all ended well. Happy Tabaski.

Pic’s to come as soon as I retrieve them from Kelsea

Cheers from Here

238 Days to go

The final countdown

8 months and 1 day, but who is counting.