I lag, I know

All my apologies to my readers, all three of you. I have had a bit of a lack in interest posting to my blog cuz I have been out of my village so much. I just figured that you would have a lack of interest in reading it, but I guess I was wrong. Let me catch you up.

In December my dad and his betrothed Nancy came to visit me. I am pretty sure they had a great time, though I am sure they were sick of watching me run around like a chicken with my head cut off. Sure I know it is their vacation, but I couldn't help but stress. It seems that in Senegal you are always one turn away from total disaster and since nothing works on a schedule planning was especially hard. As for how they faired in the village, one word, spectacularly. So well in fact that I encouraged them to apply to the Peace Corps. They had a great time with the kids and I think they loved their hut. My village asks about them all the time and says that we are all one family now, Benguure Goto in Pulaar. Here are some of my parents favorite kid Golo.





January was spent in and around Kedougou, back at site doing a bit of work. I collected a bunch of tree seed pods for the upcoming tree nursery season with the help of some neighborhood kids.



I let the littlest kid wear my helmet so he wouldn't get wacked in the head with the falling pods.



I think that day I was wearing all found clothing and called my look, The Tennis Mom.



The lunar new year was celebrated in my village. On that day all the girls dress like men and walk around the village asking for money and dance for people. It is kinda like halloween.



And now for a little section I like to call Alexa's Petting Zoo,

Here are some cute ducks


And some lovely cows


And a dead frog I found at the Kedougou Regional House



February brought the West African Invitational Softball Tournament, which was awesome. My team was comprised of 40 insane Peace Corps Volunteers from the south of Senegal. Our team theme was short jean shorts, so we looked a bit like the Dukes of Hazard. The softball was cool, but the parties were even cooler. We partied for 6 straight nights, so by the end I was pretty beat. All the pics are on my BROKEN camera but I will get them up within the next few days.

Now I am still in Dakar for physical therapy. I have tweaked my shoulder pretty badly, not from softball, and am having it taken care of. I am going crazy without anything to do but ice my arm and watch crappy VHS movies from the 90's.

I am gonna head back to the disgusting hostel Peace Corps runs. I will sign off with some random pics that I have yet to publish. Enjoy and Au Revoir

The hut next door to my with my family dog asleep on the porch


The inside of one of the worst cars I have ever ridden in


That's me enjoying a drink at our rooftop bar in Kedougou Le Defii


Me looking pretty


Some boats beached in Poponguine


Water flooding the sidewalks in Poponguine after a big rain


A seriously cool bridge by my village


The Gambia River in Kedougou with a boat crossing it


A woman riding a bike with her baby tied to her back in Kedougou


Me cruising on a canoe thru the Atlantic


A baobob tree


And some funky baobob fruit


A rasta themed truck, notice the "Who Jah bless no one curse"


And finally, a beautiful sunset in my village


Bye guys, talk to you again soon

The Baptism

The Senegalese have the tradition of baptisms like many western cultures. Since the baby was to be named after me I got a bird's eye view of the ceremony. For the actual baby naming all of the men sat outside on mats while a man from the village said a prayer and the baby's name outloud three times. Dienaba Sow, Dienaba Sow, Dienaba Sow. That is me and now this little rugrat too.



All of the old ladies were sitting in my mom's hut with the baby. In a large gourd they mixed water, kola nuts, oil, and some tree bark. When they heard the baby's name they began to shave the baby's head. The scraps of oily hair were gathered and rolled into a ball, passed around to be hand-rolled by various women who recited a prayer. I too said this prayer while balling up the baby hair and understood one line, 'May she know laughter'. So I laughed. The women who shaved the baby's head chewed up some of the kola nuts into a paste and marked the baby's head with what I would describe as a star.

After the ceremony they passed out a candy paste made of rice flour, honey, and water. Local honey is smokey and flavourful, not sugar syrup. For the next few hours I sat on a carpet playing cards with the men until I got bored. After sundown one lightbulb and a boombox were animated by a very noisy generator. I hung out for awhile, danced a little, sat with my friends while they prank phone called eachother from across the party. Turns out for people who just got cell phones for the first time in their life, prank calls are like the FUNNIEST thing ever. I fell asleep early in my party clothes to the sound of music and the hum of a generator.

After being out of the village for four weeks, I returned to my dusty hut. I spent the first day and a half sweeping up piles of dirt that had fallen from my thatch roof, mud cacoons of giant wasps used to trap and eat fat juicy grubs.



My bathroom as bloomed into a tropical paradise. I must have the nicest squat toilet in the country. Passion fruit vines climbed up my walls and tangled with the squash vines and two papaya trees provide some nice shade.






The weather has turned cool, getting down to 55°F at night. The leaves are turning gold and falling off. Birds sing in the trees and hop on the ground. Hornbills, starlings, weavers, birds I cannot see only hear. I like to sit and watch them. It is better than TV. Rather it is like buying tickets to see the nature channel performed live. All the corn is cut down inside my compound and the cows come up to my hut to graze. The grass is high and drying, exactly like when I came here this time last year.




My host mother is always so welcoming and delivered the great news that I have a namesake. The night before my sister Maimouna had a baby girl and named it Dienaba after me. She says it is because the girl was red like me and has my lips and nose. That won't last long.



This week I worked out some of the details of my dad's trip to Senegal. One of the major one's was buying a cow. I had to ride in a crowded bus 38km into the bush and pick out a cow from the herds tied to the trees. I know nothing about cows, so I brought a guy from my village and a guy friend from Peace Corps help out. In the end I got a nice looking heffer that will feed a lot of people at the upcoming holiday.



Although it is kinda hard for me because I really like baby cows...



The dirtiest part of the trip was coming back in a crowded bus loaded with sheep, goats, chicken, raw milk, and for my added enjoyment a live and kicking goat under my seat. I sat all the way in the back and the driver was hauling down the dirt roads covering me in red dirt from head to toe. When I got off I looked pretty disgusting with rotten milk mud down my leg, goat piss in my hair, and red dirt covering every inch of my body.




I just got back from a crazy bike and camping trip out to the falls called Toumania. The ride took 5 hours including an hour of literal bush wacking to get to the crystal clear pools a whopping 45km out of town. We set up our hammocks in the trees and started a fire, drank wine and whisky, ate raviolis from the can, sang, danced, did some yoga under the full moon and called it a day. Did some cliff jumping the next day then packed up camp and made the three hour ride home (mostly down hill). Was a great trip.





That is all for this week. Hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving.

A Long Hello

After one year of silence I have decided to start writing again. Coming to Senegal overwhelmed my senses and I found it difficult to write anything other than facts or fantasies. Facts concerning my whereabouts or fantasies of the future mixed with stresses of the present. Nothing new, creative, complete, and especially not anything I would ask others to read. I don’t want this only to be a travel log; a series of pictures and reports of locations so far away that there is no hope to see again.

But that is where I am… far away.



I am in the Peace Corps. That overarching statement envelops a huge portion of my current existence. Peace Corps requires a complete transformation in order to survive. I have come to the point in my cultural immersion that I have been able to chill out and relax. Up until this point my body was under constant duress. If the mind is not at ease the body will not be either. Due to language constraints everything was stressful, exacerbated by the paranoia that everyone is talking about you. Then there is the constant shout of ‘Toubab’ from children on the street. That gets really old, but I just pretend they are telling me that I am pretty and it makes me feel great.

The weather plays its ridiculous and often cruel effects. In the year I have been here I have seen hot dry days of 120˚ and humid rains of 88˚. Both seasons are dramatic and inspiring. When I have come back from an 80km bike ride in the mud and rain or heat and sun I know that I have changed. And I am proud of who I have become.





I have been on a brief sojourn around the country blowing off some steam. After one year in the village and Senegal as a whole I was in serious need of some R and R. So I went to the capital with a pocket full of cash and the intention to indulge in every food and drink fantasy that I had had during the last year. It was a very worthy goal.

Food in the village is the same lunch and dinner everyday. Lunch is white rice with a watery peanut butter sauce and dinner is a finely pounded corn powder with watery leaf sauce. Both meals are consistently disappointing in my family compound because 25 people eat of one person’s pay check. There are other family compounds that eat meat and veg in every meal, but that is not mine. When I give food they ration it out. So after a few months in the village with nothing satisfying to eat but care package goodies, I get a little crazy for food. Every once in awhile I try to splurge and find a hunk of cheese or a wart hog sandwich.

I also have been to some incredible beaches and mangroves lately. There is an island off Dakar called Ile des Madeleines that has a very cool lagoon to swim in. The island isn’t more than a rock off the coast covered in baby Baobab trees and birds, but the swimming in the cool blue water was fresh and fantastic.



I went down the coast to Poponguine to help in the filming a documentary. I am on the board of directors for SeneGAD, a Peace Corps association for Gender and Development in Senegal. See the website www.senegad.org for more info. I have been helping a couple of friends shoot footage of successful women talk about their education and careers to use as a tool in middle schools and high schools. The coolest part of the project for me so far was getting permission for two of Mali’s most popular musicians to use their music in the film. Amadou & Miriam are a blind couple from Bamako, their style blends traditional village beats and melodies with European and American influences. They were very gracious to let us interview them and record their concert. Not to mention their music kicks ass!



As a final trip to the beach before I returned to my mountainous enclave I went to a special little island located comfortably off the beaten path. I took a horse drawn carriage through the bush to the coast, where I found a fisherman to take me out to the sparsely populated island. Once there I realized what paradise looks like. Coconut trees, cool villages, and a long stretch of sand beach with no other creature on it but cows. I did yoga with the sun setting into the Atlantic and found the peace of mind I had been looking for. But after two days of bucket baths and village food on the island, I was ready to start the two-day journey inland to the inclines of Kedougou where my work lays waiting for me.







Now I am back, staring down the barrel of my second year in Peace Corps, confident that this year is going to be even better than the last. I invite you to read my installations as I tell you current and past stories of varying temperaments and tones.

Bismillah

Bassari Rights Initiation

We went out to the Bassari Tribe's rights initiation festival in Etchelo. It was one of those, "Oh my god I am in Africa" weekends.

Check out these pics...

I am the White Phantom

My inner dialogue gets so out of whack, so introverted that sometimes I lose track of who I am. I have different names depending on my location, languages float, mix, and fall out of my head. I remember who I was in California, I can remember who I was in France, but here in Africa who I think I am is not so. Yesterday I took a picture with my host family and when I checked the shot I saw how white and bizare I look. How ugly I must look to them. Yet I am desirable to them if only for the money I represent. Men want to marry me. My brother told me he was going to go online and meet and American and ask them for help. He said that the American would send him money. I asked him why he thought that. He said that is what white people do. I tried to explain the concept of self-help and defeatism, but he was lost. This is a generation a people raised with the idea that the only way anything can be done is with the outside help of rich people. All the village has to do is put out their hand and voila, there is the cash. I am here as an aid worker and I can't stand the culture of aid giving.

So you want to live in a hut, eh?

Kedougou, Senegal
West Africa

As you see this is my blog from two years ago, when I started this adventure. To update regarding my whereabouts, after 10 months in Europe I went home for 8 months and worked in San Diego. Last year in April 2006 I headed to New Zealand, Australia, Thailand, and India for a total of 4 months. I was home for 6 weeks before I made the biggest change to my life. I moved to Africa to live in a hut for two years, to serve a developing community, to develop myself and become who I was meant to be.

I have been here in Senegal for 8 months working for the Peace Corps. I have had total writer's block for approximately six months. There is so much stimulation in my life, so many weird things, that I just cant seem to verbalize my analysis. But I will tell you what my life is like, and how my choice to serve in another country has effected every aspect of my existence.

Physically speaking, this is a hard job. I bike everywhere in extreme heat and am subject to nasty rashes and bites. There is often no water to wash with during the day and electricity is something I can only get when I come into town. The food is miserable most of the time. But this was all expected and I deal with it. That is all I can do.

Six months ago I was dropped off in my village with a few belongings and a bike. What seemed weird then seems normal now. I may have become a bit strange. I am very interested in the secret life of cows and often watch them when they aren't aware. They lick their own nostrils in the most delicious manner. I have 2 or 3 cows that regularly find shade in the shadow of my hut and sometimes swing their horns in my front door just to check in on me. We are mutually interested. Goats and sheep have mock human voices and when they cry out it sounds like a child imitating a goat. Chickens are disgusting dirty animals. They are so tasty in America but are tough and scrawny here. Same with the cows. They are malnourished like everyone else.

My dog got in a fight with a monkey. How many people can say that?

Back in Cali

I have been back in Cali for 5 weeks. The first two weeks were spent inebriated in San Diego, the third was spent obliterated in Santa Cruz and job hunting in San Fransisco, and the fourth was spent poolside at my mothers eating and drinking. So where am I now? Well I am staying with my Grandma in LA working on my tan and hangin with my cousins. Okay, so my life in Cali isn't really looking much different from my life traveling. But something has got to give and it will probably give soon. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a total commitment-phobe thus the Peace Corps thing kinda freaked me out. I am just not ready for African poverty. So I gotta get a job if I ever want to blow this popsicle stand. Who knows how long I will work but one thing is for certain, I am working to travel again.

And as always,
Be a traveler not a tourist.

Bounce

I just got back from camping in the Sierras with my dear friends Joe and Jordan. We hiked and saw some beautiful lakes and shot some rifles for kicks back at the camp. I know these guys from when I studied in Paris and in their company I had the space to realize some things about my life.

I have been back for two weeks. I am not the person that I was when I left and I have no desire to start a life here in San Diego again. So where does that leave me? With the urge to flee. Tomorrow I am flying to Oakland to chill with my girls in the north for a week. Time to clear the head. I am currently in the process of filling my Peace Corps Application out and question #11 is a toughy. When am I available to leave? Most likely sooner than later.

Run For Your Life

10 abroad months... tick tick tick... 7 months in France...tick tick tick... 3 months backpacking Europe... tick tick tick...5 weeks in Greece... tick tick tick... 19 hours and 40 minutes until I fly home... BUZZZZZZ!!! My European life is slipping away one minute at a time. I fly home tomorrow morning. It is hard to accept that I will have to return to working life with a boss and schedule. I mean that is real life, isn't it? I have had such a good life here. From learning how to live in French culture to chasing my fantasies all over Europe, life has treated me well. I have met amazing people, I have learned so much about myself and what I want, and all the while I have been seeing the most beautiful sights.

This chapter is ending. My year in Europe. But the book is not nearly finished. I will go home for a breif sejour with the family and be back out on the road to another hemisphere as soon as I can, probably by mid-October.

For those of you who have read my website, thank you. I never knew who in my life cares enough of check in. I will keep this website updated with my summer in San Diego and all the trouble I get into there and will post more travel stories as soon as I get back out on the road. Considering I am a fan of the road trip, my first travel story will probably be in California.

Thank you for your support and encouragement.

Kavala and the island of Thasos

So Kavala was amazing, just like everything else in Greece. A small town on the sea with an old castle overlooking the port. The beaches there rival anything I have ever seen in San Diego, or even Cali. Warm crystal blue water and sand bottoms, perfect for swimming. On Sunday I headed out to the island of Thasos with my mom's friend Maria and her husband. Thasos has thousands of olive trees and just like Kavala it has great beaches. Unlike Santorini or Ios, Thasos has many trees and looks great for camping. My mom wants to retire there and I don't blame her. Perfection.

So Anne Marie is returning home tomorrow morning and I am heading back on Friday. We returned to Athens today and just like every other day in Athens it is freakin hot. Poli Zesty in Greek. I have two days to shop and lounge around till I have one long flight and a whole lot of culture shock.

But don't worry my dear reader, my adventures are not nearly over. I am only going home to get enough money to go to Australia and Thailand, maybe even India. You never know tho, life takes funny turns and you can never really plan for anything. Like the old joke goes, if you want to tell a funny joke tell God your life plans.

Comment if you think I should keep the website.

Thessalonki

So I have traded in my party hat for my church dress. Been hanging out with the Kofikotsios family and have been welcomed like I was their blood. They helped my young family back in the 70's get their start in Greece and are thrilled to have the babies they knew back as young ladies. They have like a million kids that love to learn English and the cooking has been amazing. Have visited a monastary and done a good amount of shopping. Sad to say that we are leaving tomorrow for a smaller town called Kavala to see one of my mother's friends. Anne Marie leaves next Tuesday back to the states and it is fair to say that she is happy to go home. You know how it is when there is a boyfriend involved. (gag) So I am heading back stateside next Friday and it is fair to say that I am FREAKING OUT. It will be nice to see my fam and all that but the culture shock is gonna be tragic. Just looking forward to getting back out on the road as soon as I can afford it.

Until next time.

Santorini and Ios

Annie and I have been having a great time together in Greece. In Athens we mostly slept and layed low cuz of her jet lag. On the island of Santorini we rented a quad and checked out the whole island, including the world renowned sunset. The island looks just like the postcards, white churches and houses with cobalt trim. The ocean is clean and glorious with black sand beaches. While we rode around we played a game of coiunting churches, we got to 39 before getting bored.

We have been on Ios staying at Far Out for a couple of days. Any wasn't exactly ready for the wild on spring break atmosphere, but she has handled it well. We have been laying poolside by day and partying by night. The only drawback is our crappy bungalow which is nothing more than a free standing round room with a thatched roof and no windows. Seriously weird.

On to Thessaloniki to visit family friends this weekend. Looking forward to some culture before heading back into the real world.

What is Urban Pigeon Hunting?

We all hate them, some more secretly than others, those filthy flying rats... Pigeons. Then there are the proud few of us who do something about them, we are the Urban Pigeon Hunters. In the National Gardens of Athens there we were, an engineer, a renaissance man, and your truly all with the same goal, to catch a pigeon.
First we did recon on our prey. They could not be those ferrel tree pigeons. No they would never approach a human. We had to go after those begger types, the ground peckers. A slip knot of twine and a few pieces of well placed bread later we were getting somewhere. They came, oh yes they came in droves, but only one stepped perfectly inside the ring of demise. SNAP, we had it flying around in all directions sometimes straight at the brave hunters. We were on the ground howling with amusement when some bleeding heart canadian teenage girls ran to see what we were doing. "Oh my god you are hurting that bird! Is this some kind of sick sport." Yes this is Urban Pigeon Hunting, and if you would like to see what dumb girl hog tying looks like we can arrange that. We cut the bird from the line and he flew off to a near by tree a string of glory hanging from his feet. We three proud hunters left the park safari glowing from a great day of urban pigeon hunting.

Ios

Hey everybody. So I took the bus from hell from the Pink Palace to Athens. They made it sounds like a really good comfy convenient bus but in reality it was an expensive ride from hell. You couldn't sleep and the seats were so uncomfortable that everyone had crazy neck cramps. Seriously stupid. So me and my fat camp squad Tony and Bryan rolled off the bus and dashed to the port to catch a ferry to Ios but there wasn't another one till midnight. So we sightsaw Athens for the day and I ended up falling asleep on the steps of the Archeological Museum... CLASSY! After a day in the hot sun we finally got to the ferry but they were trippers about letting people sleep on the couches. None of us had slept in 2 days so we passed out anyway. We made it out to Ios and slept and swam all day yesterday, not to mentioned partied at night. The people here are way more attractive than the Pink Palace crew and the island has better beaches. We are gonna party tongight and then catch a 4:45am ferry back to Athens where I will be meeting my sister. Very excited to see a familiar face and to get out of the crazy party modet that I have been maintaining for over a week now.

Love you all.

Get back on the crazy bus

Well my stay here at the pink palace is coming to an end. Tonight me and my cohorts are boarding the bus to athens for one final party. These last five days have consisted of a booze cruise, cliff jumping, a quad safari, a toga party, and lots and lots of alcohol. I am really almost tired of it... almost. Anyway the hardest partiers in the place are on the bus tonight and we just so happen to all be going to the island of Ios. I wish I could just sleep but it doesn't look like that is going to be happening anytime soon. Maybe by the time annie gets here we can have a relaxing vacation. A vacation from my vacation. Until next time.

Corfu Madness

Decided that I was OVER Italy, skipped Sicily and had to get to Greece. Couldn't be happier with the situation really. It actually would be better if I had slept since Sunday night, but so far my stay has been great. I left Marika's house in the south of Italy on Monday morning, rode on a train to Bari, took an overnight ferry to Igio...something in Greece, took another ferry to Corfu, arrived at the Pink Palace, took a shot of ouzo, checked into my room and am heading down to the beach. It's Tuesday at noon and I am out of my head. I bet I should catch a nap before the debauchery tonight, but some zzzz's on the sand might just have to do. The word is that this place is like a party summer camp that people just can't leave and I suspect that it is true. I booked 5 nights, my final night being a real deal toga party, and expect the craziest to occur. Now mom, I know what you are thinking, that this is totally not culturally Greek and that I am hanging with a bunch of drunk anglophones, well you are right. This is madness, utter hedonism. I will get to the cultural stuff later but for now I just need the beach, my bathing suit, and an ivory smile.

Pompeii and Lamezia Terme

Pompeii was cool I guess. I mean with the foot it was a bit of a challenge, and you are right Matt, those dogs are vicious. There are like 80 stray dogs laying all over the ruins with gooey eyes and frothing mouths. There was no way I was gonna touch those mangey mutts and I stopped a couple of little girls from playing with them. I couldn't save the japense tourist from sharing her sandwich with them tho, and when she ran out of food all hell broke lose. Let's just say that those dogs are thicker than theives and had their snarling vengence.
I liked the caster molds of the people dying. Pretty morbid but unlike anything I have ever seen. The coolest part of the ruins was all the freakin pornography saved from over 2000 years ago. Let's just say they had a thing for exagerated size.

After my trek thru the ruins I jumped on a train to Naples then on another train to Lamezia Terme, the home of my old roommate Marika. If Italy is a boot then I am chillin on the top of the foot. Let's just say that I have died and gone to heaven. She actually lives in one of the adjoining towns of Lamezia in the Calabria region. Her house is in the country side and OFF THE HOOK! Her mom has been cooking every meal with all homemade ingredients, the shower has more bells and whistles than a mercedes dealership, and her family is so sweet although we have no common language. This is just the vacation from backpacking I have needed. Today we are going into town and I am getting a full body masssage for only, count em, 21 euros! I just gotta make sure to keep the chick away from my busted foot. By the end of this weekend I should be fully recouperated and ready for Sicily and then... dun dun dun... GREECE!

My foot in Sorrento

UPDATE ON INJURY: Today I went to the hospital in Rome to make sure I wasn't going to have some horrible turn of luck when I was up Mt. Vesuvius. Word is all is well, the docs checked me out and wrapped me up. No stitches! They did say to stay off my feet for five days, at which I just laughed. Best part was they let me go without paying a cent! Once again, yippee for socialized medicine.

Made it to Sorrento and after checking out the town I decided to only stay one day. It is nice and mellow but since I can't enjoy the beach there is really no point treking out to Capri. The town itself if beautiful, perched on the Bay of Naples with Mt. Vesuvius looming in the background. Tomorrow I am going to wonder around Pompeii and then head down to my girl Marika's house in Lamezia Terme. I am not sure how long I am going to spend there but according to doctor's orders I need to take a rest.

Bad Luck in Rome

Well I wasn't going to come here. I was going to skip it and say to hell with the tourist hype, but no I fell into the trap. The past 24 hours have been rather unfortunate for Miss Shaw.
It all began with some nutella and my Swiss army knife. I was trying to clean the sticky substance off my knife when... slit... cut my finger wide open. If that were only the end of it.
Later that night after the pub crawl I was walking home. I slipped out of my flip flops and slit THE BOTTOM OF MY FOOT wide open. Now maybe for a normal person with a car and health coverage this may only be a minor accident. But for me, a backpacker with a first aid kit and no money to go to the doctor this is like a death sentence. So I bandage my foot up cuz there is a lot of Rome I hadn't seen yet and go walking thru Vatican city today. I let a guy I just met at the hostel hold onto my swiss army knife while I went into see what every one else comes here to see cuz of security and all. Well I guess I did a poor wrap job on my foot cuz it layered the the top of my afflicted foot with blisters.
And the freakin cherry on top, the guy never gave me back my swiss army knife. Nope, he just got on a train and left for Florence. So not am I physically disabled now I also don't have the best tool a traveler could ask for.

I am over the city and can't wait to leave. Gonna go try to do Pompeii tomorrow. Hopefully will get better soon and get back to having fun. Keeping my chin up and my foot clean.