Tambacounda

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November 23, 2005

Yesterday we traveled from Dakar to Tambacounda. We were warned to leave early because it can be a long journey, so we were up at 6 and ready to go. We had to wait for Saida, our busy-body landlady, so we could pay her our electricity bill. She came by just after 6:30, and told us that our bill was 48,000CFA, which is almost $100. For TWO weeks. We were under the impression that it was 60CFA per kilowatt hour, so we thought we were doing okay, but found out it was really 150CFA per kilowatt hour. Whoops. Well, we were mad. We couldn’t believe how much it cost, we were just happy that we were leaving early, because we wouldn’t have been able to afford another month and a half! So, grumpy from this encounter, we all headed down to the Gare Routiere Pompiers, to arrange a Sept Places car (the same kind that we took back from St Louis). We knew it would take awhile to bargain a price that we would be happy with, but we had no idea that it would take as long as it did. As we drove up in the taxi, a man began jogging next to the car, asking where we wanted to go. He ran along side us the entire way into the station, obviously happy that four Tubabs were there to be taken advantage of. We walked through the station to the cars that were willing to go all the way to Tambacounda. We needed to hire the entire car, because we had so much luggage. So we figured we’d pay the price for all seven seats. Our max price was 40,000CFA for all of us and our stuff to go. The man who ran beside our taxi, and who was obviously drunk was apparently in charge of bargaining for most of the cars in the area, and he began with a price of 85,000CFA. We laughed a bit and moved on to the next spot. He followed us along the path and started dropping the price a bit. Not enough. He kept trying to explain to us that luggage costs extra, that the price to Tamba was 7,400 CFA per person, and a bit more for luggage. We offered to pay 55,000CFA. He said that we should pay for all seven seats, plus the luggage price. We tried to explain that we would pay for all seven seats, and then have our luggage be the fifth, sixth and seventh people, and not actually have any luggage on the roof (which is the problem because they get stopped by the police and half to pay if there’s stuff tied to the roof). We were feeling pretty exasperated, since it was only 9am and we’d been screwed once, and were well on our way to being screwed again. The argument about the price went on for over an hour, with us constantly leaving the area to see if anyone else would take us for cheaper. They seem to have some kind of system set up though, because no one else would quote us a price even close to 55,000CFA. When we asked someone how much it would cost, they would say 100,000 or something ridiculous. After telling them that the best price we were quoted so far was 55,000CFA, they would tell us that they’d take us for 65,000CFA. Obviously the Senegalese do not undercut each other. So, we eventually made our way back to the original drunk guy and accepted the price of 55,000CFA (although, at this time he had already agreed to 50,000CFA several times, but couldn’t seem to ‘remember’ this). We had to get going because the people at Africare were expecting us, so we swallowed our pride and hopped in the car. (with a driver, not the drunk guy). Once we decided on the price and got in the car, we watched our driver pay three different guys 5000 CFA each… two of which we thought were ‘competing taxi drivers’. Obviously, they all help to build up the price and then each get a small cut, so we were screwed from the beginning. Little did we know, it was only going to get worse…

As we left the Gare Routiere, we got about 50 feet from the entrance, and the driver stopped in the middle of a roundabout that was under construction and asked us to wait in the car. He left for at least 20 minutes, and returned with a mechanic. The rickety old car was already broken down, and we hadn’t even picked up our luggage yet. John thought that he was replacing the throttle cord or something. We sat there for about half an hour, half wondering if we should go back to the Gare and try to negotiate a different car, half knowing that we absolutely did not want to do that. So, we waited until we were road-worthy again, and we were on our way to get our luggage. When we got to Baobab, the driver opened the trunk, and I saw that he had a bunch of stuff in there, despite the fact that I told him that we had a lot of stuff. We ended up with Marian and Alex’s really nice, practically new suitcases on top of the car, strapped in a precarious fashion to the roof. They didn’t seem too upset about it, so, at around 9:30 we finally loaded ourselves in, said goodbye to our cute, comfy little apartment and headed out for Tambacounda.

The ride to Tambacounda was long. Really long. They told us that it would take around 7 hours in a car. It took us 10. Ikupa told us that the road after Kaolack was awful, and that part of the ride wasn’t nice. We were imagining that the paved road was going to turn into a dirt path, and we would have to slow down to 40 km/hour. After we reached Kaolack (about the halfway point, distance-wise) the road is still paved, but has pot-holes in it that I would get lost in. The idea is to avoid them, by driving back and forth sideways as much as driving forward. We were all swaying all over the car, as we jerked back and forth. The good thing was that we rarely saw another car on the road, so we could pretty much drive down the centre if need be. Every now and then, the potholes outnumbered the number of potential routes, and we had to drive over a few, testing the already non-existent shocks. This was the worst thing that could happen to our car. We were sure that we were leaving parts behind when this happened. Anyway, we traveled until about three, really hungry because we hadn’t stopped at all for something to eat. We were snacking on the stuff that we brought for our time in Tamba, worried that we were eating our only supplies! At three, the driver pulls off the main road into a small village, and parks. He didn’t say a word to us, but when two men with blow torches and wrenches disappeared under the car, we figured we’d be there for awhile. Marian and Alex went off to see if there was a store anywhere in the town, and John stretched his legs outside the car. We couldn’t leave it, because all of our stuff was in it. I sat in the car, because it was about three hundred degrees outside, and there was not a spot of shade to be found. At this point, the car became somewhat infested with cockroaches. They were crawling all over me and the seats, but I was trapped in the car, because the men who were working on the car were blocking both doors. After being in this hell for an hour, we were ready to go. We thought we only had an hour left before we arrived in Tamba, but it turned out to be two. As we drove into Tamba, we realized that Ikupa had definitely exaggerated about how small a town Tamba was. It’s still tiny when compared to Dakar, but it did have three gas stations, one of which had a store, and a market where fruits and vegetables could be purchased every day. When we finally did arrive, it was getting close to dusk, and we were tired and hungry. The driver dropped us off at the bus station, where we were to be picked up by Maktah, the Africare driver. Marian and I found a telecenter, and went to use the phone to call Ikupa, so she could let Maktah know we had arrived. Marian had saved Ikupa’s phone number on her computer, so we took it with us into the telecenter. We had a scare when we couldn’t find the number in her address book, because it was past working hours, and no one from Africare would be at the office. We were nervous because we had all of our stuff with us, and potentially no way to find out where the guesthouse was. Eventually we remembered we had put it on her electronic calendar. We called and Maktah arrived quickly to take us to the Africare guesthouse.

When we arrived at the guesthouse it was already dark outside. Maktah had forgotten the keys to the bedrooms, so we had to sit on the porch and wait for him to go and find them. We walked around the house, and got pretty depressed, pretty quickly. The first room we went into was the kitchen. There was no refrigerator - a huge problem because we had bought groceries based on the assumption that there would be one - and a stove that was from the stone age. The oven was completely broken, with no door, and housing some less-than-welcome new roommates. The stovetop was gas, but completely covered in mouse poop, alluding to the fact that we had even more new roommates than we could see. The kitchen itself was really dirty, and every single one of the things in it had been used and not cleaned. As we looked through the cupboards, we found two spoons, one fork and a butter knife, as well as one small frying pan. All dirty. We had just lugged up 25kg of pasta, and had absolutely nothing to cook it in. Because we had all the lights on, and the front room is open directly to the outside, the front hallway was absolutely infested with giant bugs. We were feeling hungry, tired and incredibly stupid that we were still paying rent at our apartment in Baobab and had come to this tiny little town. When Maktah finally arrived back with the keys, we discovered three nice, clean bedrooms (or so we thought), and two bathrooms with western toilets and fairly good Senegalese showers, and were feeling a bit better about the place. We were starting to move our stuff into the two bedrooms closest to each other, because we were unsure if others would be needing to use the third bedroom (it has it’s own bathroom, so we thought we should leave it for someone hire up in the company than the interns….). When Marian and Alex discovered that the air-conditioning didn’t work in their room, however, they were out of it and into the other faster than we could believe. Meanwhile, when John was installing our mosquito net, he discovered a huge spider living under our bed. When he lifted up the mattress, we discovered the place where all insects in Senegal go to die. There was actually a whole spider family under there. The floor was almost covered in dead insects. So, we took the bed apart and swept it all out, knowing we wouldn’t sleep well thinking about what was underneath us. Meanwhile, Maktah had asked us if we needed anything else before he left, and we asked if he knew where we could get a pot for our pasta. He left while we were unpacking and returned later with a few key kitchen items. So, that night, we ate out of a questionable pot, sharing spoons, since we only had two for the four of us. We decided it would be best to head to bed, and hope that we’d feel better about the whole thing in the morning.

The next morning Marian and I were ready to go at 9. We were waiting for Maktah, who said he would be picking us up around that time. At 9:45, in true Senegalese style, he arrived. We headed into the Africare office (realizing on the way in, that it was entirely too close to be getting a ride to, and would be less of a hassle to walk) to meet Ikupa. She told us that we would be going to a village with her, to see the training of the relaises - the people who head the maternal care groups. When we arrived, she asked us where the guys were. We told her that they were at the house, still sleeping, and she seemed really surprised. She told us that she thought they would come with us to see the village. Since both John and Alex had mentioned that they would like to come to some of the villages, if possible, we thought we should take advantage of the situation. So, we scooted home to pull them out of bed and get back to Africare. We all headed out to a town called Missira. It’s smaller than Tamba, but still much larger than most of the villages that Africare works in. We sat in on a training session, which was conducted in French and Pular. It was a bit embarrassing that in the middle of the meeting, the translator interrupted it to introduce all of us, including John and Alex. We had to stand up and say hello, when all we really wanted was to observe quietly in the back. During the break, Ikupa introduced us to two Peace Corps volunteers, who had been living in nearby villages for seven months. Becky and Sarah told us all about the villages that they live in, and since they had been at all of the training sessions so far, how they were going. Ikupa told us that we should go look around the village for an hour, while she finished up, so we headed out to a third Peace Corps volunteer’s (also named Sara) house. We were introduced to her family, and saw her room, which was her own hut with straw roof. It was really neat to see how they were living, especially because we hadn’t really been exposed to the small, rural villages before this time. After the tour, they took us through the market, and showed us the bread that you can only find in this one town. It’s soooo much better than the bread that we’ve been getting in Tamba, or even Dakar, and so now whenever we go through this town, we make sure to stock up!

We headed back to the Africare SUV, with the Peace Corps girls, who were getting a ride into Tambacounda. They were going to the Peace Corps house there for an American Thanksgiving celebration. We were all piled into the SUV, and had barely made it out of Missira, when we were stopped by the Gendarmerie. The Gendarmerie is a part of the army, who often pull cars over, for various reasons, mostly to collect money. Like many African institutions, there is still a lot of corruption within it, and often people are forced to pay for ‘infractions.’ They carry huge guns though, so most people comply. Apparently we were pulled over because our inspection stickers had expired. It was incredible to us that an organization like Africare could allow this to happen, especially since they have so many vehicles that are driving people around every day. Anyway, Ikupa got on the phone to Jim Dean, the director, and really let him have it. It was pretty amusing. Before a payment had to be negotiated, Maktah, our driver started talking to one of the guards. Apparently they realized that they had some relative in common, and before we knew it, we were on our way again. Incredible. The rest of our ride back to Tamba was uneventful, and while dropping Sarah and Becky off at the Peace Corps house, they invited us and Ikupa for Thanksgiving dinner the next night. The idea of skipping a night of pasta was too much to handle, and we quickly accepted the offer. We headed back home, to a much more comfortable house, since Ikupa had found us a fridge and sent over a bunch of cooking supplies. We were feeling much better about the whole situation.

November 24, 2005

Today Marian and I headed to work as usual at nine. We were there for about half an hour before we found out that because it was American Thanksgiving, the office was closed (Africare is a US organization). So, we headed home after using the free internet for awhile, to make plans for the day. We called Sarah and Becky, the Peace Corps volunteers we had met the day before. All the Peace Corps volunteers we having a Thanksgiving dinner at the Peace Corps house in Tambacounda. They invited us and we planned to head over around six. We walked around the market near our house to figure out what we could bring to the party. We couldn’t find anything that could be made without an oven, so we bought a couple of watermelons and some doughnuts. When we arrived at the Peace Corps house later that night, there were tons of people there (we had been expecting maybe 7 or 8), probably around 20. They had made a huge dinner, chicken (instead of Turkey), stuffing, cranberry sauce, veggies and salad. There was even pie (made with squash instead of pumpkin, but it was delicious!). Our boss, Ikupa, also came which was a major surprise. It was good for us to really have a chat with her though, outside of work, where we could take more casually. She’s really interesting. She was born in Tanzania, grew up in the Gambia, spent time in Belgium, went to school in Maryland and is now here in Senegal. Luckily for us, her English is better than her French, so she has no problem speaking to us in English during our meetings. We found out that she has her degree in Biology and was originally working on malaria and TB issues. She seems to be one of the few competent people working in the Tamba office, which may be one of the reasons why she won’t be staying too much longer. It was nice to have a chance to talk outside of work, and learn a little more about her, especially because we’ll be working so closely with her on our project at Africare.

November 25 2005

Our jobs at Africare, while sometimes frustrating, are turning out to be an incredible experience. This afternoon Marian and I headed out with Ikupa to a small town where we sat in on the training session for the leaders of the maternal care groups. These volunteers learn all about reproductive health and how to lead productive group meetings to share this information with the village women. We were warmly received, and listening to the information and questions was great. After studying all this stuff so much last year in London, it was great to watch it being implemented in the real context. During the session there were lots of women who brought their young babies, so they could breastfeed them while in the session. One woman had a baby whom she fed the entire session, and started fussing toward the end of the meeting. When she was walking out with the baby at the end, she stopped to show her to us. The baby was so incredibly thin it was breathtaking. Marian and I were both so surprised we had trouble covering it up. The skin was hanging off of her she was so thin. It was really sad. After the training session we drove over to a meeting of a maternal care group. There were probably 30 women there, half with their babies and small children, ready to participate in the group discussion. The topic was malaria, how to identify it, avoid it and what to do if you suspect that you or your child have it. The meeting was run in Pular, translated into Wolof, and then translated into French for us. What a procedure! It was really cool being in the midst of the meeting though. The information is pretty basic, sleeping with treated mosquito nets, going to the hospital if you have a fever and going to your prenatal visits. When we first arrived there was a baby, almost a year old, sitting on the bench beside where we sat down with her mother. We smiled and said hello to everyone, and smiled at the baby. She sat for a while and took a good look at both Marian and me, before absolutely bursting into tears. The moms kept saying something about ‘toubabs’ and then made the baby shake hands with us. It was pretty funny that our white skin actually scared the child. It happened a couple more times before the meeting even started. Hilarious. Imagine what would happen if she saw me the way I look in the winter…

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Photos

Leaving Dakar
Check out the jelly shoes on the man...guys wear them here all the time!

The Guesthouse
Here's where we live in Tamba

Comments

[Cousin Barbara]

bugs..
Cockroaches, spiders, Laura! I didn't know you had it in you! Hope you're having a great experience.