Comment on fais "hakko"

As the title states, this slideshow will demonstrate how to make the traditional Pulaar dish of Hakko, which is a meal of couscous and bean sauce served frequently in the villages of southern Mauritania.

Ghoulest Halloween Ever

Okay, my puns need work. The Cryptkeeper would fire me. But Katie and I did host the PC RIM NDB Halloween party on Thursday night. We dressed up (sort of) but did not trick or treat. If we did, I'm pretty sure the locals would have...

a) stared blankly at us not knowing what to do
b) laughed uncontrollably
c) lynched us
d) been indifferent

Choose your own adventure. We cooked good, old-fashioned hamburgers that were marinated in none other than KC's own Gates BBQ Sauce (I brought a jar from home). Oh how I miss the BBQ. Maylen bought a tasty Happy Halloween monogramed cake. We also carved a jack-o-melon (no pumpkins available) and bobbed for apples (see below). Last but not least, we watched the first 9 "Treehouse of Horror" episodes of the Simpsons. Not too shabby.

School is going well and is in almost full swing. I only have one class that hasn't commenced because of registration problems and they are going as smooth as I could have imagined. Some I can already tell will be more or less difficult that others. I was really nervous to teach the adult classes because many of the students, if not all, are older than me and very many are teachers themselves. But many adult students assured me I had conducted a good first lesson and they seemed really enthusiastic about learning English. On Wednesday night the power went out and we continued the lesson by the light of cell phones; it was great. We'll see if they all continue to come. Also, next Friday, I will start a general music appreciation/history/performing/I don't know what the hell I'm gonna do class at the girls mentoring center. I really need to put in some planning this week to come up with concrete ideas that will actually work. Please comment if you have any! Ha!

Today will also prove to be significant for me and many I know because my good friend Andy Young is getting married. I am an honorary groomsman and it kills me that I can't be there in person. He's marrying Jamie Cox, a wonderful woman (even though she grew up in Mizzurah) who, from what I have observed, is truly his best friend - because a lot of us just don't like him that much...just kidding Andy! Seriously though, congratulations, we love you guys.

All in all, things are coming together pretty well. Stay tuned for PROM #2, good luck to the new president, he's gonna need it, and scream you later (wow, that's genuinely horrible)

Daily Life

After two months in Nouadhibou, Mike and I are finally settling into a routine (kind of...)

Mike has finally begun teaching classes, and although attendance is still sporadic due to continued problems getting everyone enrolled, there seem to be more students every day. He is teaching 14 hours per week, which is actually quite a lot. He has seven 2-hour block classes a week. All his students are in their final (6th) year of secondary school, and are preparing to take "the BAC." The BAC is roughly equivalent to the SAT or ACT in the U.S. (only more difficult I think since there is only about a 7% pass rate). I'm sure Mike will fill you in soon on how things are going with the classes.

As for the schedule, Mike teaches from 8 am-2 pm on Monday, 10 am-2 pm on Thursday, and 8 am-noon on Saturday...yes, that's right, students have class here on Saturday! And I guess I'll take the opportunity now to also explain that Mauritania, as an Islamic republic, recognizes a different work week than Western societies. The holy day is Friday in the Islamic faith, and therefore, it is not a work day. Most businesses take Friday and Saturday off, and resume their work week on Sunday morning.

Additionally, Mike is teaching extra "adult" beginning English classes twice a week in the evening to community members who have expressed interest (almost everyone here wants to learn English). The class consists of everyone from taxi drivers to school professors to government officials.

Okay...so I know what you're thinking...that's a lot of information about what Mike's been up to, now what about Katie's activities? Well, it's a bit difficult to explain, but I think the best way to explain my job is to say that I'm a "community organizer." Yes, I'm aware that this term has become somewhat politically charged in the U.S. in recent weeks, but honestly, that's what I'm doing. The focus of my organizing is on health education activities for both the community at large and for health professionals.

My job is a bit difficult because it is very unstructured. I set my own schedule and determine my own priorities each day. Of course I received a lot of guidance during pre-service training on where to start initially...language acquisition, community integration, and knowledge of the communities strengths and weaknesses from a health standpoint. I also have a wonderful APCD (Assistant Peace Corps Director) named Daouda, who I can call or email if I have any questions or worries.

Just to clarify for any who may still be confused -- I am NOT working in Mauritania as a nurse. I do not take care of patients, or provide treatment of any kind. I am not allowed by Peace Corps or licensed by the Mauritanian government to work as a nurse here for many reasons, which include my personal safety and liability. Although I may be observing some health care provision, in order to educate and/or improve processes, I will not be providing any care myself.

So...up to this point I have been primarily focusing on visiting the various health clinics, hospitals, and health NGOs (non-government organizations) that work here in Nouadhibou, as well as schools and other organizations. I am looking for potential project ideas, identifying motivated individuals, and trying to determine the health priorities of the community from their perspective. This evaluation will be a continuous process throughout my service, even after I have identified some projects to focus on. The goal is to try to create sustainable change...you know, work that will continue to be of value after I leave Mauritania.

Other than "work," my focus is on meeting community members, and becoming friends with them, another goal of Peace Corps. I continue to work on language skills, improving my French beyond the daily survival skills necessary for the moment, and picking up basic phrases in Hassaniya and Pulaar for greeting and communicating basic needs. I take African dance class twice a week for personal health and enjoyment, though the dancing style is really more Senegalese than Mauritanian.

That's it for now...because this has been a long enough post already. Maybe next time I'll discuss our normal routine for daily chores or preparing meals...as the process can be quite a bit different here from the way things are normally done dans les Etats Unis.

Product of the Month (PROM): Millac

That's right! You've guessed it! This is the first of what will hopefully be many insightful glances, snapshots if you will, into the world of commerce in Mauritania. I thought this would be a quantifiable method of explaining some of the similarities and differences between our two little worlds. Also notice my acronym. I'm stealing this word back from the awkward grope-fests that somehow seemed so important to us 10 years ago. Don't fall for it teenagers of today! Save your tux rental money and invest it. Our economy is still strong, right?

The inaugural product: MILLAC. 1 Litre = 500 UM (NDB prices). If you say it fast enough, it almost sounds like its English equivalent, milk. I apologize in advance to the dairy farmers in the states, but I LOVE MILLAC. Pros: it lasts longer (especially unopened, boutique owners don't even refrigerate it), tastes better, and I can't read the nutrition facts (ignorance is bliss). Also, it tastes amazing mixed with coca-cola.* Just like an ice cream float **- Eli knows what I'm talking about. Cons: where's the gallon size box? That's right, it comes in a box.

Other notable information:

-a product of Spain, produced in the Canary Islands I believe, that is imported here

-creepy graphics; sort of a Children of the Corn meets the master race

-and finally, it contains vitamin D3. I always felt kind of weak, depleted in the states. Now I know, it was my vitamin D3 deficiency.

I have to mention this since it reminds me so much of a great Simpsons episode. In the school cafeteria, Bart, after cracking his knuckles, remarks, "Ow! But why should my bones hurt? I drink plenty of [turning to look at his carton of milk] MALK?" [the carton reads: now with vitamin K!] Apparently, the school was skimping on food to save money in their budget. Hilarious!

*Katie thinks this is disgusting, but we all know how crazy she can be

**Annie, I'm going to send you a bunch of Millac so we can begin work on our next product: The RIM Shake! Between that and conebutts (reg. trdmrk.) we'll have the dessert market tied up.

Well, I hope this was interesting. I'll try and get one of these up a month. Comment if you like it so I know how much effort to put into future PROMs. That is all. Mike out.

I am not a hippie.

Oh, what would the guys from home say if they could see me now. Here I am, a Peace Corps Volunteer in West Africa, and I had my first African drum lesson yesterday. I'm learning to play the djembe. That's right. Dave, Anthony, Ben, PJ, Adam, Andy and anyone else can commence with the jokes. But I am not a hippie.

That's just one of the classes that will soon be filling my schedule. Today was supposed to be the second day of school (the start date was pushed back to Oct. 12). However, there have been problems here getting a new lycee (high school) up-and-running so really I just show up for school and then go home 30 minutes later. I am told I will know more by Thursday this week. What you have to understand, is this is typical. But very soon, I will be teaching between 3-5 English classes at the local high school...inshalla (perhaps).

I will also be teaching adult English classes, a music class if I'm lucky and I'm enrolled as a student for French lessons. All of this added on to my current Hassaniya class. Things should get really busy within the month. So that is the latest news. Katie mentioned my idea for a RIM 'product of the month' blog...soon. So instead, I thought I would relate an interesting story about language this time. Hope you like it:

In Mauritania, if you make a joke or if someone really agrees with what you're saying they'll get real happy and slap hands with you. Its a cool feeling. The other day, in a "grocery store", I rambled off all of my hassaniya greetings. You kind of have to be careful of that because they'll assume you know a lot of hassaniya. He asked me some questions that I actually could answer such as I am a teacher, I work for peace corps, I am married. Then he told us the total of our purchases in hassaniya. Just take my word for it that the number system here is pretty confusing. He told us, smiled when I thought in my head, and he even covered up the register so we couldn't see like a game show. It was just a cool exchange. Then I guessed the number right and he said "you know hassaniya well!" I really don't but I explained that I learn a little more each day and I had also memorized this hassaniya adage i learned during training that goes "gittra gittra isiil ilwaad" which means "little by little, the river flows". He didn't understand at first because of my pronunciation and he didn't expect me to say anything coherent in hassaniya, but when he got it he yelled out loud, pounded the wall, and then did the hand slap thing with me. It was awesome.

That's all for now. Hope all is well.

Mike

Saturday night

How did you spend your last Saturday evening?
Here's what we did:

Yep, I gave Mike a haircut…and I have to say I'm getting pretty darn good at it. Now he's all ready for his first day of school!

Trash

So here’s a question that many Americans don’t ever pause to consider…what would you do if there were no trash cans in your house? Okay, now what if there wasn’t a trash truck that came to your house every week or a functioning sanitary landfill? Well, those questions are a daily dilemma for many Mauritanians, Peace Corps volunteers included.

Some of the first things you notice when you arrive in a third world country are the smells, the animals wandering around, and the trash everywhere. Then, when you first find that you need to get rid of a food wrapper, a used water bottle, or some other disposable item, you realize that there are no trash cans to be found anywhere. A fully functioning trash disposal system is something we Americans completely take for granted, but in Mauritania, it is something we contemplate daily.

Trash and sewage are huge problems in many third world areas that haven’t developed comprehensive systems to deal with their removal. As city populations increase, so do problems with waste. Small outbreaks of disease have the potential to become huge epidemics when there is no safe system to remove infectious material.

Rosso, the city in southern Mauritania where Mike and I lived during our pre-service training, has one of the worst problems with trash and sewage in the country. However, according to many previous volunteers, Rosso is much better now than it used to be, due in part to a motivated mayor and funding he has directed toward the problem.

Now that we are living in Nouadhibou and are no lon ger living with a host family, we are able to buy trash cans to keep around our apartment. It is somewhat of a relief to me that I no longer have to carry around my trash in my pocket until I find an acceptable place to discard it. However, even in Nouadhibou, it is frequently a futile effort. After we put our trash in bags and dutifully place it at the appropriate collection point, it is left to the mercy of the wandering animals (usually goats and/or children). They tear open the bags and eat whatever they can salvage before anyone comes by to collect it. So it is no surprise when I arrive back home later in the day and see a piece of trash from our house blowing by my feet.