WAIST and More!

Hello my good friends. Sorry I haven’t written in so long. I am also going to apologize for not having any pictures. I forgot to bring my camera to Dakar. Here is a brief update about my life.

I spent the last week or so traveling, with my final destination being Dakar, Senegal, where I went for the West African Invitational Softball Tournament. I was lucky enough to get to stay with an Amazing family in Dakar. The husband works for the American Embassy in Senegal and their house had everything I could have wanted: stocked fridge, toaster, microwave, washer/dryer, and real mattresses. Even if I had never left their house, that would have been vacation enough for me. The softball tournament (which our team won, through no help of my own) took place at the American Club, which has a pool and is full of English speaking Americans! It was awesome to get to meet volunteers serving in other countries, though some of them are afraid of us because the Mauritanian volunteers tend to take over any place we go en masse.

Now I’m back at site and will probably be sticking around to the end of the school year. However, unlike in America where you always know when the end of the school year is, here we’re not quite sure. There is supposed to be an election here in early June, which means schools will close probably about a month before that. From what I have heard, the month before an election here it is impossible to get anything done, so it will kind of be like Ramadan Round II.

Work has been going well. The girls at the center are crazy, but that’s not unlike teenage girls in the states. We just started a class for women who have not been able to finish school, and we’re also working on the program for Women’s Day on March 8^th.

I think that’s about all from here, but as usual, I have some funny stories to share.

Story 1: I don’t actually live with my host family, but eat many meals with them. After dinner, it’s usually pretty late so two of my sisters will walk me home. There is a short way to go, but we always take the long way. One night I decided to ask my sister, Rama, 17 years old, why we always take the long way. She said it was because the short cut has a lot of dogs and she doesn’t like it when the say “ho ho” (this is what they think barking sounds like). The she told me that dogs in Mauritania eat people, and asked if dogs in America do too. I couldn’t just let an opportunity like that pass me by, so I said “Dogs in America don’t eat people like me. They only eat Mauritania girls.” She got a very worried look on her face, and I kept it going for about two minutes before I told her that really, dogs in America don’t eat people (and neither do dogs in Mauritania). I guess she believed the lie more than the truth, because a month later Rama’s mom told me that Rama never wanted to go to America because she was afraid dogs would eat her.

Story 2: I was hanging out with another branch of my host family (they have various members living in different houses) when I found myself alone with a four year old who only speaks Pulaar, Shohamar. Normally when I’m with kids who don’t speak French or Hassaniya I just speak to them in English because they don’t understand anyway. I said the word “yes” to him and he repeated to me “Yes we can!” I was very surprised, said “Where did you hear that?” His response was: “Barrack Obama. Yes we can!” I think this is an accurate representation about how Mauritanians feel about the President…even non English speakers can recite his motto.

Top 5!

After living here for over six months now, I have developed a love-hate relationship with this country. Here is a list of some of the things I like and dislike, which I hope will give you all a little snapshot into my daily life here.

Hate (I don’t really hate anything here. These are more things that on a good day I can laugh off, but on a bad day, really push me over the edge).

1. Prayer Call: There are several Mosques surrounding my house, and they all do prayer call at a slightly different time, which means between 4:30-6 AM, I’m kept awake. How Mauritanians manage to sleep through it is beyond me. All the Mosques have loud speakers and there is one guy who sings into it. Without fail, he always clears his throat into the microphone. Why he doesn’t do this before he presses the “on” button, I’m not sure.
2. Zrigg: Zrigg is a mix of water, sugar, and some kind of milk (sour, condensed, powdered, or normal). Mauritanians LOVE this stuff. I was never a big milk drinker in the states, but there are two reasons why it’s even more terrible here. First, imagine on a really hot day when you’ve just walked all the way across town and you’re sweating bullets, usually all you’d want is a cold glass of water, but instead you get handed a big cup of full cream milk. Yum! Refreshing! Reason two is that Mauritanians will usually only have two or three cups to serve million people in the house. Because I’m the guest, I always get served first, which means everyone is waiting for me to chug my cup-o-cream so they can use my cup. So it’s 120 degrees, I’m covered and sweat, and chugging full cream milk. You’d hate it too (Note: I only know two Americans who enjoy zrigg).
3. Stomach lining: Yes, they eat this here. It tastes like eating a towel. Stomach lining, by definition, was not meant to be digested. Plus, when you’re watching them butcher the goat they just slaughtered, and you see the stuff that comes out of the stomach, eating its lining is that much less appealing.
4. Men on the street who want to marry me: I’m guessing this needs no explanation. I walk around with an airplane to America tattooed on my forehead, so many men feel that it could hurt to at least ask. I’ve been experimenting with different responses. “I’m already married” does little to deter my suitors unless I happen to be with an American guy at the time. “My bride price is $1 million”, usually gets a laugh and then I can be on my way. And when I’m feeling particularly sassy, “You are the 7^th person to ask me to marry you today. Why should a pick you?” This response usually shuts them up, and then I can walk away.
5. Brutal honesty: Mauritanians are brutally honest, beyond the point of anyone I’ve ever met in the states. They’ll say things like “You’re other American friend speaks better Hassaniya than you do,” or “hey, why do you have that zit on your face?” (these comments just come out of nowhere too). It can get a little awkward. On the plus side, when they give you a compliment, like “you look pretty today,” at least I know they are telling the truth.

Love

1. Kids: There are many reasons why I love kids in Mauritania. I will list just a few.
1. They’re always happy to see me. Whenever I walk into my family’s house, the kids chant “Noura jeyt, Noura jeyt”, which means Noura’s back. They then run at me full force to give me a hug. This always brightens my day.
2. “Porky Pig”: I’m not sure who coined the phrase, but it refers to kids wearing shirts but no bottoms. Seriously, kids here hate pants. They’ll wear shirts, shoes, and even parkas now that it’s “cold”, but their butts will be completely bare. My friend’s daughter goes to kindergarden and the first things she does when she comes home is takes off her underwear. It’s pretty hysterical.
2. Greeting: Here, you never just say “how are you?” and then continue on. You must always ask how someone is in at least ten different ways, and the answer is always, “thanks to be God”. But the real reason I like the greetings is because if you’re ever sitting in a room and there is an awkward silence, you can just start the greetings over again. It helps with the language the barrier.
3. Dance Parties: This is a daily ritual in my house. Mauritanians love to dance, so I don’t feel like such a freak when I start bobbing my head along to the music. One family in my house has a DVD player, so I made the kids a dance CD for their Tabaski gift, so now they can all sing along with some English music. Even the little two year old will sing “Jump On It”.
4. Sleeping Outside: Because when else in my life will I spend every night on the roof under the stars?
5. The “Bismillah” attitude: “Bismillah” means “welcome”, and Mauritanians take this very seriously. People really do go out of their way to make sure I feel at home with them. They always ask me if I would rather eat with a spoon than my hands (which I decline even though I really would rather have the spoon), and they’re always wanting me to take naps and showers at their house. Everyone here just wants me to think of their house as if it were my house. This attitude has really made the difference in me feeling comfortable in Kiffa.

So there is just a little glimpse at my everyday life. Besides that, work stuff is going well, as well as stuff with my family. I’ll be in Kiffa for about another month before we all go to Dakar, Senegal for the West African Intramural Softball Tournament. Should be pretty fun. Thanks for reading this far. Stay in touch!

Pictures

Hey everyone. I would like to apologize to those of you out there sitting by their computers waiting for me to update (I'm pretty sure this applies only to my mom). To tide you over, here are some pictures. I've starting posting on a new site. These pictures are from Thanksgiving, Tabaski, the Girls Mentoring Center, and a bunch of others I take because my Mauritanian family asks me to. Pictures are really expensive to print here, so having someone back home get them printed (this would be my mom again) is a good way for me to thank people here for always giving me stuff and never asking for anything in return.

Anyway... enjoy the pictures, and stay in touch.

Pictures

It's been a while...

Hey everyone and Happy New Year! So I know I haven't written in while, but I just wanted to let you know that things are going well. I've been on vacation in Senegal and the capital for the last couple of weeks, and now I'm back in town.

I'm going to make this short, but I promise to do a full update with pictures by the end of the week. Thanks to everyone who has sent letters recently. I really appreciate them!

Stay well and keep me posted on your lives!