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Well, this is the third country I've written letters home from. It is Saturday, and I find myself sweating and listening to loud birds and a Gambian PCV on the phone, probably to another PCV. We've been here for about a week now and we're almost overdosing on food and beer and great scenery. The volunteers here can call each other on the phone, drink beer, come here to meet up once a month for four days, buy almost anything I could ever ask for in the local grocery stores, speak English to the natives, and lots of other things that are impossible for us Mauritanian volunteers. The country is beautiful too: big trees almost everywhere we look, and fruits everywhere: mangos, bananas, cashew-apples, and some others I don't know the names for. For me, this country represents what I thought my Peace Corps experience would be about. It has so far been an exciting and simultaneously depressing experience.
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Ben, who was on the verge of leaving before, has now made up his mind to o home. His work has been virtually nonexistent (like mine,) he misses Sarah, and he would be much happier at home. I, on the other hand, am going to go back and try to get something to work. Hopefully the dispensary will be open when I get back, and I'm going to buy a treadle pump in St. Louis, Senegal on my way back and use it for experimental irrigation projects.
The new trainees are in Mauritania now, and they will be coming to their sites sometime in September. The girl who is replacing Sam is very attractive, so I assume that it may be another year and a half before my next date, for from her picture I am not in this girl's league. Oh well. I'm here for work and to integrate with the Africans, right?!?
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Friday: I am in St. Louis today at the shop where they make treadle pumps. Hopefully, they'll be done tomorrow so I can head back to the RIM. The guys here have been real nice: they invited me to dinner last night but I declined because I was feeling sick and then they invited me to lunch today which I accepted. They had told me we were going to have dried fish and rice (which is probably my least favorite meal!) but I told them I eat that twice a day, everyday in my village so they said we would eat rice and meat. It was pretty good, but there were no vegetables in it, as usual. I used to complain that the people in my village never had vegetables, but we always had at least a few. On my further travels to Kaedi and in Senegal, I've discovered that my village is different because in a lot of other villages they hardly ever eat any vegetables.
I've been here for a few hours now. The old man in charge of the place is a nice guy who speaks a little English and is interested in doing only the best work he can. In other words, he is different than almost everyone I know in Mauritania. The treadle pump I am looking at is manufactured by them. It is partially sponsored by USAID, but in what capacity, I am not sure. I'm buying the pump to pump water to my house for filtration and irrigation, and as an example of the local resources that can be very worthwhile to the villagers. That didn't make all that much sense: what I am trying to say is that I bought the pump for my own personal use, but hopefully the villagers may get interested in what I am doing, and want to do it for themselves. My APCD (Assistant Peace Corps Director) Carla Hunt questioned my tactics, accusing me of possibly becoming a "Robinson Crusoe" by fixing up a nice house for myself and doing nothing for the villagers. To say the least, it pissed me off. True, such a thing is possible but if I sincerely want to cut myself off from the villagers then I can simply go home, and the Peace Corps will pay for it. She told me I should get the villagers interested in it, and then have them buy it so I can work with it. From my previous experience with work in the village, I want to have something perfected and have the costs planned out before I bring it to them. If I don't do that, then I get too much pressure from them that distracts me from my work and makes me not want to do anything. If they harass me when I do work and when I don't work, why should I waste the effort?
8-7-95: Rosso
I returned here last night with my new treadle pump, ready to get to work in my village. It was too late to catch a car back to my village, so I left my pump at the boutique where the truck leaves for my village. The post office was closed so I didn't get my mail. I went by the moto mechanic's place to check on my bike and he had already gone home. I went to Pam's to spend the night. She wasn't home yet, so I had the place to myself.
I got up this morning after a very restful sleep and got started on the day's affairs. My first stop at the moto mechanic produced the first bad news of the day: the moto engine was broken and he couldn't fix it. I left from there to the Post Office. The Peace Corps had sent me an envelope with my NKT mail and magazines. I don't normally get mail from NKT, so I was a bit surprised to see that I had a letter. It was from Ben, dated July 24th. It was to say goodbye, because he had made up his mind and was going home. Outside of the Post Office, I met the driver for my village truck. No, he couldn't take me or my pump to the village because wasn't going there today (for some reason or another.) I went from there to change my money-I had francs from Senegal and needed ouguiyas. The rates the money changers gave me had me losing about $of $80 I was trying to change. I declined. I went from there to the hardware store to buy the necessary pipe for my pump. No, I could not find it there I was told, nor would I find it anywhere else in Rosso. NKT only. Eleven a.m. and my day already ruined, I went back to Pam's. Let me tally it up: (no, let's wait a minute-it gets better.) It rained about noon, further limiting my chances of catching a ride back to my village since the road there becomes impassable when wet.
Pam came in around 3pm. As usual, she wasn't happy to see me here. As she put it today: se wants company when she wants company, when she doesn't, she doesn't. today was one of those 'doesn't' days. I let her read her mail in peace, and then we talked a bit. She told me that World Vision, and aid organization, was giving each region a treadle pump. Since I had already bought one, I obviously didn't need another one and so therefore she was going to give it to this lady who had asked her a while back about pumps.
I explained to her that I couldn't go back to my village because there were no cars going there, but she seemed unimpressed. Pam seems to be impressed with me only when I leave.
We talked some about why I was feeling a bit shitty about things. She asked if she could give me advice-I told her no: I didn't need or want any. She told me that it was all up to me-that I was making it a bad experience for myself and that I was the only one who could make it better-it was all just a matter of attitude. So, to tally it up: (in order of importance) 1. My best friend just left for home. 2. I can't buy the parts here to make my pump work and now must wait until I come back from NKT in September. 3. My moto is broken and the guy can't fix it. 4. I can't even get to my village because of the roads. And if I get there, there is no telling when or how I could get back. 5. I don't have much Mauritanian currency and if I change my other money I'll be losing a good bit. 6. Pam doesn't want me at her house. My house is only 10 mile from here. Why don't I just walk? 7. The treadle pump I just spent over a hundred bucks on was going to be given to me for free, but since I already bought one Pam wants it. 8. And, the kicker: I am just bothered by these things because of my bad attitude.
Pam is a cute girl, but the reason I am not attracted to her should be obvious.
I am not sure what I am going to do now. I'll have to cash in that money to buy some barrels for my water filter. Of course, it is just for me. All the people here want me to do is just give them stuff, so that's the last thing I'm going to do. I'll wait until September to get the pipe for the pump.
Virtually all my friends in the world are 5000 or more miles away. I don't want to be here anymore.
8-10-95
Whoo, boy! I was getting just a little bit depressed there. Well, the next day I went to town on Pam's bike and bought 2 50 gallon barrels for about $20, and got a spigot and pipes soldered on them-the latest era in my water filters; as of today I am still waiting for them to be brought out here to me with my pump. After getting the strong hint from Pam that it was time for me to go, I packed up my stuff and took her dilapidated bicycle (Peace Corps has given her a new one) and commenced the ride to my site. As the crow flies, according to the GPS, it is 14.9 k or 9.25 miles to my site. It is farther than that because the road is not truly a straight shot. It was not too hot (or I wouldn't have done it!) but there was a strong 20 mph wind blowing in my face the entire trip. The road is rough but fairly firm. I didn't have any water so 7k into the trip I did the obvious thing: I laid down my bike and jumped into the river. To get away from the worst stuff, I swam to the middle and took a couple of big gulps there. Not surprisingly, I've had diarrhea ever since. Two and a half hours after leaving Pam's, I was home.
I opened the door to my room and noticed the soaked, moldy mats on the floor. I was again not successful in sealing the roof. I haven't done much since then-I've mainly just finished straightening up my house.
Oh yeah, I was surprised to find when I got home that around both villages the sand had been plowed and green plants were coming. I thought I knew what it was but I confirmed it with my neighbors to make sure: gerte (gair-tay) or peanuts. I'm impressed!
8-11-95
They dilivered my barrels and pump last night. I spent the better part of this morning cutting the lid off of one of the barrels. I'm not doing that anymore-it is very tedious work with these small tools I have and I always end up hurting myself. Today I kicked my large hoe/pick with my ankle, (I was using it to pry off the lid,) resulting in some nice, fly attracting blood and a very bruised, stiff ankle. I spent part of this afternoon getting bit by mosquitoes while I was rinsing out my barrels at the water. I was going to wait until I went to NKT at the end of the month to get my pipes and stuff for the pump, but the hordes of disease carrying mosquitoes here have convinced me otherwise.
I still have my pet lizard that Wes and I photographed a couple of weeks ago. He seems to have a good time running around the porch and kitchen, and I think he may be eating the big ants here, so I'm glad to share my home.
I've just finished reading The Eye of the Elephant, by Delia and Mark Owens. They are working to save a game park in Zambia. Though far from here, their interactions with the Africans reminded me of many of the things I have experienced here, and also give me some hope that I too might possibly have a positive impact on the people and environment here. You guys will enjoy reading, and if you do, it may provide you with more insight into African culture than I have been able to elucidate in my writings.
My neighbor has planted peanuts and beans all around my house. We were just playing frisbee in what I thought was my yard when he screamed at all the kids to leave, so they don't walk on the stuff. He has even planted it all around the latrine. I commented to him that this was my yard, but he ignored me and just kept yelling at the kids until they ran off. I think I should have put up a fence to mark my territory. Now I can't walk around my house or to the latrine for 3 months (NOT!)
8-15-95
I'm here at the Millers and everything is ok. They got my moto running and I'm working on a project to provide my village with clean water. Hopefully I'll be able to find piping here to get my pump working. I'm sick with diarrhea, once again. Oh, this developing world life. I called Ben at Sarah's, and both seem to be doing well. There is a life outside of Peace Corps. Till next time...
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