PROM 8: Ouguiya

Okay, okay, okay. Not exactly a product. But ouguiya (oo-ghee-uh), the local currency, are the means to the PROMs. So as an ode to the old monetary system of bartering, trade, and commodity-backed currency (yes, Katie makes me listen to the same podcasts) - which is very much alive here in the RIM- I give you PROM 8: Ouguiya (UM for short, unit Mauritanian I think?) ~ 260UM = $1.00

(insert motivational arena rock music, i.e. "Eye of the Tiger")

-Leading off, the fierce "we never have change for" 2000UM note. The highest in its class. (Approximately $7.70)

-Next up, the dominant "donnez-moi mille ouguiya" 1000UM note. The most common for large transactions (Approximately uh, $3, no, minus the 7, divide 70...approximately half of $7.70)

-Third, the elusive "greenback" 500UM note.

-Batting clean-up, the plucky "2 taxi trips" 200UM note.

-Coming in 5th, the ever present, ever dirty "big baguette buyer" 100UM note.

-Representing coinage, we have the 20 "pas de pieces" UM, the 10 "old man" UM, the useless 5 "Why am I here?" UM, and the now phased-out 1 "Why did I ever exist?" UM.

There was also a 1/5 UM coin called a khoum. If ouguiya is like a dollar, a khoum is like a cent. But it was so small and now is never used.

As far as the Peace Corps goes, we get a monthly living allowance of ouguiya that is deposited in local banks on a quarterly basis. This is a trip in itself. I have heard that in smaller regional capitals, banking is fairly simple because people are always curious about and willing to help the 'toubabs'. However, here in Nouadhibou, I find the process quite awkward and cold. (It should be noted here that I do not expect any sympathy from my fellow volunteers. The combination of being married and in an urban environment gives us access to more amenities and a higher stipend, I am only communicating my routines and experiences with the ouguiya). I always greet people at the bank, try to put on a happy face, but usually it is just business as usual and you can spend the entire day waiting if you are not pro-active or even a little pushy.

For example, not long ago, I spent the better part of a morning waiting at the bank. Fortunately, this was not entirely due to my normally passive disposition. Apparently, the bank was out of money. Since being in the RIM, we've seen food shortages, gas shortages, rational thought shortages, but this was a first. So I proceeded to wait. For 2 hours. Lines, if you can believe it, steadily began to form. I was pretty close to the front but not in the line of men along the wall. Apparently, I was in the women's line...AGAIN! (See my blog on the gas) But this time it formed around me. So I grudgingly went to the back of the men's line.

Finally, just before my will for waiting was shattered, a man arrived with a huge cardboard box filled with ouguiya. And slowly, the line deteriorated. Men who came in after me were trying to get ahead of me, so I just began elbowing my way up front just like everyone else. During this melee, I witnessed a young white moor enter the bank in a Nike jogging outfit. He looked at the line, scoffed, and went behind the counter to yell at one of the tellers. The bank manager came out and ushered this man into a back room. Moments later the manager came to the one window distributing funds, grabbed what must have been half a million in UM and went into the same back room. Soon after this the "jogger" leaves the bank with a conspicuous ouguiya shaped bulge in his pocket. Oh, just a small insignificant example of corruption in the RIM. But at the time, all I could think was, "This is the greatest injustice ever to befall man!"

Throughout the entire process, other customers would routinely butt back into line once they were done to exchange bills that didn't pass their critical inspection. That's right, these men would go off in a corner and begin looking over all the bills. Now granted, sometimes bills can be in very bad shape. I've seen ripped, mangled, taped, stapled, nearly unidentifiable notes. And it's almost like a national game not to be the person who gets stuck with these lousy bills. But these men were returning bills with a pen mark on them or a slight tear.

People are always on the look-out for an unsuspecting person to whom they can pass one of these bills. Katie and I learned this early on and have managed to avoid them, but here's one we've been stuck with for some time. No one has taken it yet. It is actually three bills taped together. The pieces are actually in pretty good shape...not the worst I've seen...not by a long shot...I have grown to love him. His name is Oogy McPatcherson. Oh the adventures Oogy and I have had. He is one crazy UMOB.

-Oogy McP.

Well, eventually, I made my transaction and departed the bank (through the back alley because they locked their doors either because the work day was long past over at 12:30, or they ran out of money again, I couldn't tell).

P.S. - thanks for all the birthday messages. It's always good to hear from someone back home.

P.P.S. - I'm on the look-out for a 1UM coin for my coin collection back home. If anyone has one that they would be willing to part with, please let me know.

Mike out

Money Matters

Well, like most Americans, I am currently very interested in learning more about economics and LOVE LOVE LOVE the "Planet Money" podcast by NPR. However, I also recently came across a great article (from Money Magazine) that profiles three American families of different religious faiths and the role their religion plays in financial decision-making.

Particularly interesting to me, given my current living situation, is the article about the Saroya family, a Muslim family living in Minnesota. It explains some of the rules related to money that exist within Islam and highlights some of the difficulties that may result when trying to apply those rules to a typical American economic situation.

I hope you have a chance to read the article, and let me know if there's anything that strikes you as particularly interesting.

More updates:
- New volunteers coming to RIM were postponed due to difficulties in obtaining their visas. They are hoping to secure visas for the new group by August, after the political situation in Mauritania has stabilized a bit. Inshallah!
- Mike's 29th birthday is coming up next week and he is very busy preparing for a city-wide English camp that he is organizing. Maybe we can teach all the kids to sing "Happy Birthday" to him in English?

A New Beginning

"Obama...Egypt...Zayne!" said our taxi driver with a big toothy grin the day after Obama's speech on American-Muslim relations in Cairo, Egypt.

("Zayne" is the Hassaniya word for "good")

Yes, I agree. And yet, there is still a long way to go. Al Jazeera reports that a recent survey showed only 20% of Americans have a positive view of the Muslim world, with 46% holding a negative view.


Many Mauritanians I know do not understand this, because in their eyes, violent extremist Muslims are very different from who they are. They do not understand why Americans lump them all together into one group.


However, for many Americans who don't have daily contact with Muslims, it's difficult to see beyond the news coverage and atrocities carried out by extremist groups. So...that's why I'm here to offer another perspective.

My current coworkers, teachers, students and friends here in Mauritania are all Muslim. They help me. They protect me. They laugh with me. They teach me. They learn from me. They share with me. They are gentle, kind, peaceful, funny, serious, reverent, and just like you and me in many, many ways.

Stop SIDA Tabac

Hello everyone! Sorry for my long absence from blogging. I guess that is a good sign that I have been keeping busy, right? Well, here is a little update on the work I've been doing. My main projects so far have been visits to the prenatal clinic, classes at the girls mentoring center, and health sensibilisations in the community on a variety of topics. In addition to this I have recently begun work with a non-governmental organization (NGO) called "Stop SIDA Tabac" (SST). SIDA is the French acronym for AIDS and tabac, as you could probably guess, is French for tabacco.

SST is a great organization run by Mauritanians. They do presentations for school children and the community about the harmful effects of smoking. They advocate for national laws related to smoking, such as making it illegal for a 4-year-old child to buy cigarettes, limiting smoking in public locations, and putting warnings on tobacco packaging in languages other than French with pictures for those who are unable to read. They also hold 5-day smoking cessation clinics each month where they assist smokers in quitting by providing them with information and social support.

The month of May is the international month for smoking cessation, therefore SST had many activities throughout the month, including a poster contest, a poetry contest, and a football tournament. These activities were in addition to the sensibilisations and cessation program that they do every month.

My involvement with the NGO so far has been observation of their activities, taking pictures for them to put on their website and in their informational leaflets, and assisting them as needed. I am also on the lookout for other opportunities to help them gain more exposure and recruit more participants for their cessation programs, as well as help them to develop more activities for AIDS awareness and education.

There are many pictures posted of SST and their activities in our online photo album if you are interested in seeing more.

Other news in Mauritania:
- Elections, originally scheduled for June 6, have been delayed until July 18.
- New RIM PC trainees will be arriving later this month! Inshallah!
- June 21st will be the one year mark for our time in Mauritania.
- My counterpart's sister Hawa had a baby on May 8! I made her a baby blanket...my first ever crochet project (thanks for the yarn and crochet hooks Dad & Lisa!).

Hope you are all doing well! We always appreciate hearing how things are going for you all by email, letter, phone call, etc, so don't be shy. Also, big thanks to everyone who continues to send us care packages! You are so incredibly thoughtful, and we really appreciate it! We miss you!

School's out for summa...school's out 4-ev-a...

...school is out, I think.  Officially, the last tests weren't even supposed to start until the end of next week.  But in true Mauritanian fashion, my administrators decided to bump up the exam dates and give an economical one day notice of the change.  The last test was 2 days ago.  Luckily, I have managed to finish the syllabus for most of my classes.  Most.  

I will continue two of my Monday classes through June, I am still teaching my English club, and I'm taking on another English teacher's class so he can go be with his pregnant wife in Nouakchott.  Plus, the college entrance exam is at the end of June and English might (?) get chosen as a subject so students might (?) mob the lycee looking for some last minute English lessons.  And the presidential elections are supposed to happen in early June which will cause even more confusion.  I'm just not sure what to expect.  What I do know is that I have finished the last exam required at the lycee that I had to write, proctor, and correct.  

Oh, proctoring.  Is there anything better?  No lesson preparation, all the teachers seem friendlier knowing a break is fast approaching, and I get to hone my classroom management skills.  Okay, that last one makes me sound like a dork, but my new hobby is busting cheaters.  I love it.  

Maybe that sounds a little harsh, but put yourself in my shoes: teaching seniors in high school a subject they don't care about, that they know is not worth very much for their final grade.  So what happens?  Several students in every class don't even come except on test days, because they have deemed the only worthwhile use of their time is to attempt to cheat three days out of the year (each trimester ends with a test in all subjects).  And many teachers turn a blind eye to the practice, resulting in some pretty pathetic attempts.  

(I started this blog on May 20, now it is May 31, just in case my timeline makes no sense)

For example, penmanship is very important to many students.  Several times throughout a test, students will ask, "Double feuille?" (doo-bluh fay?).  Meaning, they made a mistake and they want to start anew with a double sheet of blank paper that is so commonly found in all copybooks

Mauritanian.  If allowed, some students will use this sheet to rewrite some answers and pass them to a friend.  Unfortuneately, they often not only rewrite the answers but their name and class number as well.  I know many of the students by name and I can easily read 2 different class numbers on the same desk...busted.  Others will use phones to text message friends.  Easy to spot...busted.  But for every cheater I find, I'm sure there are many others that go unnoticed.  It's so rampant.  

For this latest test, I saw a student who was obviously cheating.  Normally, he's a good kid, but not without fault.  He's also not the brightest student in class, but he usually tries.  So instead of immediately kicking him out, I moved him to a different spot.  Two rounds of the class later I noticed he had moved to a third seat when I wasn't looking to look off of another student's paper.  Now, I'm sure many of my fellow ED. PCVs would have kicked him out right then and there, and normally, I would have.  He even stood up and handed me his paper when I pointed out his unapproved relocation.  But, I didn't want to give up even if he did.  I took his test, told him to sit down, and start over.   I don't think he really knew what to do.  I think he wanted to leave.  But when he realized he was going to have to stay, he sat down and began to write.  Or so I thought.  

He was near the back of class, I was in the front at the time, and I noticed that he would write, look up, write, look up, write, look up, over and over.  And each time he looked up, he looked right at me.  Also, I noticed his pen markings were way too long and fluid for the maticulous, equation-laden scribbles necessary for this math test.  Wait a minute, is he? Can he be?  I think he's drawing a picture of me!  I walked over to him, and he never once flinched or tried to hide it.  I told him it was good, but he should really work on the test.  For the next hour, he did.  When he left, he gave me his test and his artwork.  So, without further ado, I give you "Mike" through the eyes of an 18-year-old Mauritanian:

A little pudgy from the nose down, and I didn't know I was such a mouth-breather.  But otherwise, a decent rendering.  Too bad they don't have art class.  

And now, it is May 31, I teach again tomorrow, and I've heard English was chosen for the bac.  I still need to verify that, but that should mean I can expect...oh...about 300 in class tomorrow all expecting in turn some last minute English revision.  What would they do if I just drew their pictures for 2 hours? 

   

Adrar Vacation...part deux

I know this post is long over due, but we've had problems with electricity lately.  Broken machines, cut wires, the donkeys got tired in their giant wheel generators, I'm not really sure.  When asking any of several Mauritanian friends, the response is a very ambiguous: the machine is broken.  I can never tell if these broad answers are to cover one's ignorance of a subject or to get his point across to someone with bad language skills (me!).  Anyhoo, vacation...

...So we reach Atar after an exhausting 12 hour train ride (on which I was repeatedly woken up between 1 and 6 a.m. to the sounds of a 12 year old arguing about the price of a glass of tea for which he just paid around 15 cents) and a beautiful 3 hour truck ride (through some truly spectacular, hilly terrain).  Atar is known as one of the biggest tourist destinations of Mauritania.  Every year, many foreigners travel here, and to neighboring Chinguetti, to partake of historical expeditions, camel treks, and oasis visits, just to name a few options.  

Unfortuneately, for Mauritania, certain incidents have kept many tourists at bay for the last couple of years.  Therefore, Katie and I found Atar to be much less active than a normal day in Nouadhibou, which was a great change of pace: few cars, friendly people, good food.  If you're ever in Atar, Mauritania, I recommend 'the sauce lady'.  

While in Atar, we stayed with fellow married couple Sam and Kerri in their beautiful compound complete with garden, hammock and spotless terrace perfect for outdoor sleeping.  After a day or two of much needed relaxing, we caught a taxi ride through the mini-mountain pass to Chinguetti for a camel trek.  Big thanks to our friend Carl for organizing that.  You'll have to take a closer look at our pictures from the trip to see both of us on camels, sand boarding (eat your hearts out Adam and Andy!), the dune that sings, etc.  It was an amazing trip.  Two short stories to pique the curiosity: 

1. One camel was bitten in the foot by a snake and we got to watch our guides drain the wound. This is why I am walking for some of the pictures.  We shared camels, mine was the white one named Balthazaar, or Barry for short. 

2. The singing dune basically makes a lot of noise as you slide down on your rump.  In the moment it reminded me of the glorious chorus of low end brass from the mother ship in that kick-ass scene of "Close Encounters of the 3rd Kind" but in reality (watch the video) it was more like an 8th grader playing his tuba during an asthma attack.  Compare the videos and tell me what you think.  

After our Chinguetti trek, we got a ride back to Atar.  We spent the next 3 days relaxing, getting to know the city, and we even ventured to a (disappointingly dry) oasis.  One of my tasks during these last 3 days in Atar was to find old clothes at the "dead toubab" stores for the ride back on the train.  Riding with the iron ore gets very dirty.  We opted for howlies (turbans), 2 big winter coats, and corduroy pants.  There are also these great big soft blankets for sale at all of the markets.  We decided to get one for what would surely be a cold train ride through the Sahara in the middle of the night.  PROM #7: 

4000 UM ($16).  I know this might seem a little pricey, but c'mon, SUPER Luxury!  I've never even had normal luxury before!  The guy who sold it to me must have thought it was one of those Super-Mega-Ultra blankets because he started out at 9000UM and I had to bargain with him for about 20 minutes (no joke).  This is pretty common in Mauritania and you can really get taken for a ride if you don't know the correct price of items.  This is why I was sure to ask my fellow volunteers before venturing into the market.  On my way, a man approached me and tried to get me to buy these wall tapestries.  I kept saying I wasn't a tourist and I didn't need a tapestry but a blanket.  He finally understood and he proceeded to 'guide' me to the best place for this (probably his cousins shop).  He grabbed my hand and led me into this cool covered market area hidden from the main roads.  This was the same man I eventually bargained with.  Here's how the conversation basically progressed:

Arab Street Salesman:  This is the best blanket in all of Mauritania.  For you, 9000UM.

Me: 9000UM!  That is too much.  Please diminish the price.

A.S.S.: I can't.  This is premier quality!

Me: I don't need top quality.  I'm using it to stay warm on the train.

A.S.S.: You are taking the train? With the iron ore?  You are white, buy a ticket for a seat!

Me: I don't want to do that.  

A.S.S.: Are you French?

Me: No I am an American working in Nouadhibou at a school.

A.S.S.: My grandfather used to live in America.  I know Amercians.  You are very nice people. 8000UM.

Me: The price is 4000UM.  My friend in Atar just bought a blanket like this for 4000.

A.S.S.: 4000UM!! No way.  Your friend bought a different blanket, 2nd or 3rd quality.  This is first quality.

Me: The quality is not important.  It will just get dirty on the train.

A.S.S.: That is no problem, this is what you do.  After the train, take some water, do you know water?, take some soap, do you know soap?, and wash like this [rubbing hands together], then you have a great Mauritanian souvenir!  

Me: I'll look elsewhere [Threatening to leave the shop is a great tactic to get them to lower prices]

A.S.S.: Okay, Okay.  7000UM, because my grandfather likes Americans.  He knew a man named John from California.  Do you know this man?

Me: No and no.  The price is 4000UM.

A.S.S.: I have lowered the price.  You must raise yours.  That is how this works.  What is the highest you would pay?
Me: Okay, okay.  4000UM.

A.S.S.: [Dumfounded look]

Me: Thank you, I'll look elsewhere.

A.S.S.:  Wait, hold on, hold on.  You win, 5000UM.

Me: Goodbye.

A.S.S.:  I can-

Me: 4000UM

A.S.S.: You must-

Me: 4000UM

A.S.S.: It -

Me: 4000UM

A.S.S.: Give me the money.

And that was it.  Bargaining in Mauritania, fantastic.  We got our clothes and blanket.  We hopped the train (after another raucous encounter with the street kids of Choum - another story involving thrown rocks, a song directed at us entitled "You'll never get married" [an insult I suppose], French/Hassaniya cursing, chasing/grabbing/shaking/spanking kids all in view of the Choum community that must have been more entertaining than anything on TV that night) and made our way home. 

Story's over?  No way.  Upon arriving home, with 5 guests, after an exhausting 15 hour ride (the train slowed to a crawl for the last 3 hours/50 kilometers) we discovered the power was out at our house and with it, the pump that gives us water.  No water to drink, no showers for the 7 iron ore covered travelers!!  Needless to say, I was not happy.  Especially since this was not the first time Somalec, the power company, had cut our power.  

I stormed the offices at 2:00 (they usually close at around 2:30).  I was wearing soot covered pants, shirt, cheap flip flops, I was sweaty, and my face was filthy.  I reached the counter and slammed my fist on it (resembling my pops in his hey-day of stickin it to the man).  I gave a less than friendly "Isalama aley-kum!" and proceeded to say, in French:  "Look at my face!  What do I need?  I need water.  You cut the electricity, and that cuts the #@!$%# WATER!"  I couldn't tell if the lady behind the counter was scared or entertained, probably both.  A young technician approached me and said how this was no problem and for a mere 3000UM he would turn it on again in a flash.  I was livid.  After some time and the arrival of my landlord we figured it all out and got the power turned back on...bribe-free.  Ugh.  Fin.  Mike à l'exterieur. 

Adrar Vacation...part one

Mauritanians take a spring break from school at the end of their second trimester. This year the break fell on the week of March 29th. Interestingly, many Mauritanians call this break "les vacances de Pâques," which means "Easter vacation." This is probably a remenant of French colonialism since Mauritanians more or less adopted the French school system. However, our Mauritanian friends didn't really seem to understand why we found this name odd in an overwhelmingly Muslim country, even after we explained that Easter falls on April 12th this year.

Since Mike and I have never been away from the Mauritanian coast, we decided it was about time we explored some of the inland terrain. We also wanted to visit our good friends living in Atar and Chinguetti. There are a couple ways one can travel from NDB to the Adrar region. We decided to take the more interesting and direct route by way of the train to Choum. 

The train is operated by the Mauritanian mining company, SNIM, that extracts iron ore from mines near a town called Zouarate in northeastern Mauritania. They transmit the iron ore via train to Nouadhibou, where it is loaded onto boats and exported to foreign buyers. It was once the longest train in the world. 

The train is also a common route of travel to the inner northern regions of Mauritania. There are a few options for those wanting to ride the train. You can pay to ride in the passenger cars or ride for free in the iron ore wagons. For the trip to Atar, we chose to ride in the passenger car as opposed to the empty iron ore wagons, because we planned to ride in the wagons with the iron ore on our way back home to NDB.

The trip by passenger car was less than desirable as it was very crowded and uncomfortable. However, after a long 12-hour journey we reached Choum and got off the train to find a truck that would take us the remaining three hours to Atar. We arrived safely in Atar and were glad to be welcomed into the beautiful home of our PCV friends, Sam and Kerri.

Mike wants to share in the story-telling for our vacation, so I will let him continue the story from there. If you're interested in seeing pictures and videos from our vacation, go to the Our Photos link in the right hand column. Hope everyone is doing well!