Let me tell you a little bit about rainy season in village.
It. Is. Magical. It is also my excuse for not writing for the last three
months; take it or leave it.
Imagine this: For the last 9 months, the landscape
has been brown and barren. Dust coats every surface. The air is hazy from the
fires started to burn last year’s vegetation, which by this time is nothing but
colorless straw on the ground. It’s so hot that you’re sweating by 8 in the
morning, even doing nothing but sitting in the shade. The animals’ ribs are
showing, and villagers climb trees in an effort to provide them with something
green to eat. Then – THEN! – one day around mid-June, when the heat and
humidity has reached a point that makes the little voice in your head say “Alright,
that’s it, it’s time to kill something”
- something miraculous happens. Clouds roll in, the wind roars through
the village in a determined attempt to blow the thatching off your roof, and
the rain comes. It always happens like this, in the beginning of rainy season.
It’s never a light summer shower. It’s like the sky has decided to declare
World War 3 on the ground (or, in your perspective, your hut only) and it’s a
little scary and a lot thrilling. The wind sounds like a freight train, the
lightning lights up the sky like a strobe light, and the rain pours down like
God turned on a faucet. You may not be able to hear yourself think, but you
notice with delight that you have goosebumps for the first time in your recent
memory, and you find it’s necessary to sleep with a sheet on. There is nothing
I enjoy more in village than a good, violent rainstorm. My favorite mornings
have been spent sitting in my hut with my back to the wall, drinking a liter
cup of coffee (don’t judge), and enjoying the sights and sounds of rain turning
my back yard to mush.
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| Goats, on the other hand, hate rain. |
AND, as if that isn’t great enough, the color green starts
to make its reappearance after a long absence. First it’s just a light shading
of green on the ground, then a carpet, then a shag carpet, then before you know
it, the grass is knee-high – then to your waist! The ugly, desolate landscape
is transformed over a couple weeks into something truly beautiful. I’m happy
because I like greenery and a cool breeze. The people are happy because rain
means they can plant their crops, which means that they’ll have something to
eat next year. The animals are happy because they’re given access to an
all-you-can-eat buffet. And here’s a perk: the weeds hide the trash and refuse
that covers the ground. Ignorance is bliss, right?
To be living in village during rainy season also means being
intimately acquainted with rainy season’s work – farming. Every day, Bira
empties as everyone heads to the fields with water on their heads and hoes
hooked over their shoulders. First it’s plowing, then planting, then weeding,
weeding, weeding. Finally, it’s harvest time – that’s actually taking place
right now. The corn harvest is like a weeks-long corn festival. Corn is being
roasted 24/7 over coals or open fires, or boiled in salt water, and cobs litter
the ground like some great corn massacre has taken place. I love it. Roasted
corn for breakfast? Sure. Would I like some lunch with my corn? I guess so.
Afternoon snack? After-dinner snack? Here’s a couple more cobs. Hey, bring
Fanta some corn, she’s only had two today! And so on. You get the picture. The
peanut harvest has not quite started, but they’re already bringing back “new
peanuts” – tigo kuto – from the fields to munch on. They’re pale and slightly
translucent, and they taste fresh – like a raw soybean, or a pea. Did I know
peanuts existed in this form, at any point in their lives, before I came to
Senegal? No. But I certainly prefer them this way.
As excited as I am to complete my service and return to the
US – only 6 more months! – I can say that I’m already mourning the loss of
rainy season. Never again will I sit in my village, in my own thatched hut,
with my oversized Nescafe and powdered milk creation, and experience the thrill
of an African rainstorm. Unless, of course, I extend for a third year in village,
which will happen never ever ever. Sorry, Senegal, but I am way too excited about
way too many American things.
On that note – the “I’m leaving in 6 months” note, that is –
I am still looking for donations to build those two classrooms in my village
(see previous post). This needs to happen before I finish my service, so it
needs to happen nowww! My plan is to build at least one of the classrooms if I
can’t find a way to fund the entire grant. I really do not want to leave my
village with nothing, especially when they need this so badly.
First, thank you so much to everyone who has already
donated! You’ve been very generous. I am grateful, my awesome work counterparts
are grateful, the kids who don’t even know you are grateful. When this project
does happen, it will be because of you. On that note, for those of you who
haven’t donated, or feel open to the idea of donating more, please do! We still
need at least 1,500 dollars to build at least one classroom, though if we can
raise more than that, so much the better. In fact, I’ve had a pledge of 1,000
if I can raise the remaining 500. That’s doable! Come on, people! Thinking of
making your yearly donation to a charity? Donate it to this project, and
improve a few kids’ futures with a couple clicks of the mouse! Easy.
Considering buying your unappreciative coworker (or family member, or friend,
or parole officer) a Starbucks (or Peet’s, or Panera, or Target) gift card for the
holidays? I bet these kids are more in need of a classroom than your intended
recipient is of another caramel latte (or scone, or soup bowl, or…body lotion?)
Usually I’m very uncomfortable asking people for money, but
in this case, I’m doing it for the community that welcomed me, a strange
ignorant foreigner, into their midst. They have fed me and housed me and
laughed at me and taught me for the last 18 months, and for them I’ll annoy the
heck out of each and every one of you. Sorry I’m not sorry. Also, they named a
baby after my mom, and who doesn’t want to see Aileen grow up to study in a
real classroom? And by the way, she is ADORABLE.
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| Right? Right? |
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