A Month in a Thing Called Life

I have contemplated how to write this blog for days. I have fought with myself, deleted 30 different copies of this, started and scraped it all. I had promised myself I would never allow someone to get close to me. I failed miserably. I realize this as I sit on the front steps of another volunteer’s house the day before we are to leave for Senegal. I guess I have only been “dumped” once in my life, I’m always the one who thinks to end things before serious talks ever begin, before real emotions are even an idea. Who would have ever thought a casual relationship would never work. Someone always gets hurt. This time it just happened to be me, but I am resilient. The first few days in country are slightly awkward, because we just so happen to be traveling to Senegal together. The night I realize that it is truly over (in Senegal), I let loose and have one hell of a night.

It has been so long since I have been surrounded by this many Americans, thus I felt slightly vulnerable. Unsure if I was still capable to socially communicate. Turns out… it’s kind of like riding a bike; you never forget, but you might fall and metaphorically scrape your face. In no time at all I was socially normal and ended up with some really good friends whom are serving in real Africa. I have the upmost respect for you all.

The main reason for going to Senegal was for a little thing called W.A.I.S.T (West African Invitational Softball Tournament). It was an incredible experience, 200 plus volunteers who have been living in extremely conservative, Muslim communities converging upon one softball field, dressed in the most outrageous costumes that you can imagine. Since Cape Verde only had 7 players we teamed up with the recently evacuated Niger to form the Cape Verde/Niger Refugee Spectacular (I think everyone had a different name for the team, but truly not important). A fortuitous event as they were all really cool and fantastic softball players. We won our division, whoop!! Although, the idea that we “won” is slightly misleading, half the teams we played forfeit before the first pitch… enter insanity. We were told that we were “too competitive” because we were playing sober. Drunken doubles aside, there were some really great conversations, and an information exchange that gave me some great ideas for things I could possibly do on Boa Vista. The networking that occurred during those four days is invaluable. If this was just a conference I don’t think the same relationships would have been formed.

After four sleepless nights in Dakar, Matt Kubal and I packed up our gear and decided to head north to St. Louis, pronounced San-lou-ee. The day we are leaving I’m nervous, my French is weak and my Wolof is non-existent, and by my French is weak I mean I only know some numbers. Other people are worried for us because we are going to a place called “Garage Pompeii”, a lot filled with station wagons and buses that look as though they should have been retired in the 70’s. We are dropped off on the outskirts of this so called garage, looking incredibly touristy (enormous hiking backpacks, sleeping bags, and white skin). I begin saying St. Louis, and people are speaking at me in rapid fire, but luckily pointing in the general direction of the cars for St. Louis. Without any real problems we are settled in a station wagon headed for St. Louis. The trip there is surreal; on no island in Cabo Verde can you drive for more than two hours, this trip took seven sweltering hours (Africans hate the wind, they will close windows regardless of temperature). Four market stops, two police bribes, and one new Senegalese friend later we arrive in the first Capitol of Western Africa. Thanks to a new friend, Amanda, we are put in contact with a few volunteers who reside in the area, and are able to stay for free the first two nights! I love Peace Corps Volunteers. The third night, we need to be out of the house because there is much traffic through the transit house due to some evacuations in the north. We are told about a little hut hotel on the beach called The Pelican. It’s a quaint little place that seems more like a couples retreat, but the price is right, so Kubal and I snuggle up. We spent our days walking the town, kayaking the Senegal River, and biking though the National Park. As the trip begins to slow down, so does my body. I am physically exhausted by this point and ready to go back to Boa Vista. However I still have a week of IST (In-Service Training) waiting for me in Praia… joy. 

Waiting for my flight back to Praia I see a man with a guidebook for Cape Verde from the 90’s. That book will get him nowhere. I begin a conversation with him and learn that he is a French Volunteer in Mali. He works for the French version of Peace Corps more or less. I ask him if he speaks Portuguese or Kriolu, he doesn’t. He begins shooting questions at me about where to go and what to do, clearly he needs help. I begin by giving him emergency numbers of volunteers on other islands, and after an hour or so of speaking with him I decide to take him under my wing. I show him a little of Praia and then Assomada. I call my host mother and ask her if I can bring a French guy to eat a traditional Cape Verdean plate (Katxupa). She is ecstatic; she loves to show off for guests. To the countryside we go. He loves the food and the welcoming nature, and I can’t deny that I feel truly loved there and have a longing to be with them more. After a nice visit, we return to Praia, because the next begins my training and he is on a plane to São Vicente (best of luck friend, hope all went smoothly). 

Our training is surprisingly good. I went in thinking that it would just be a wasted 5 days, but we were given useful information, and presented with NGOs willing to fund projects. Four other volunteers and I go to a place called ProSan, they specialize in composting and minimal water use toilets. I begin to see the challenges that will come with the public bathroom project that I am trying to get down with VZW, the Belgian NGO. I am in no way giving up on this project but I do need another meeting with them before I begin writing a grant. The biggest news of all though, happened because of a breach of protocol by one of the other Environmental volunteers. 

Scott, on Sãnto Antao, has met a gentleman named Oliver. Oliver is the chief technical specialist, whatever the hell that means. What he really is… the representative from the UN in charge of the National Parks Project that I am a part of. Although I should clarify this; Manuel Carvalho is the National Coordinator for this project, and Oliver technically answers to him, I digress. Scott had been sending Oliver emails asking what we were supposed to be doing and when we would begin. This is where the breach of protocol occurs. We shouldn’t be contacting Oliver directly yet because he didn’t even know we were assigned to this project. This causes a little unrest on the Cape Verdean side and next thing I know Sarah, Scott, our APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director), Manuel Cavalho, Oliver, and me are in a meeting to discuss the parks. We are officially welcomed to the project and are privy to information and maps and resources that I have been trying to find for months. Oliver then tells us that we are to return to Praia April 11-15^th for the official opening and workshop, where we are to present our islands and have a report that includes the following information; 

-           - Overall impression of the project now that we have been at your sites for some time;

-       - Key challenges or risks that you perceive, with ideas how to address them

-       - Additional or supplementary activities that you consider relevant or useful in biodiversity conservation that have not been included yet or have come up recently.

This is a wonderful opportunity to really show that I am actually competent. However, I have no way to get over to where the park is going to be, and I haven’t even seen parts of this island yet. I can’t present if I have no idea what the ecological issues are in that area. I feel an adventure is in store. I haven’t a clue how I am going to get the information I need yet, but am confident that I will figure something out... time to break some of the asinine PC rules?

I know this blog is very informative and less fun to read, and for that I apologize. The next one will be more fun, you have the Matt Acre word. I think the presence of Cabo Verde at W.A.I.S.T. will cause an influx of West African volunteers visiting, which is rather exciting! I can’t wait to see all of my newly acquired friends again. Only 345 days until my glorious return to the motherland and the next softball tournament. Paz y amor from my little spot of land in the Atlantic.   

A volunteer friend in Senegal, Kate, is a fantastic writer... check out her blog if you get some time and show some love. I realize the website is a little confusing but, she is one of the Niger refugees.
http://niger-mania.blogspot.com/