...the Pays Bassari...
July 1st, 1:30pm, sitting on the bed of Auberge Thomas Sankara in Kedougou, where I finally arrived after a 17hr bus ride from Dakar.
After the luxury of the dorms in Dubai and in Turkey, of the Camino in Spain, of staying at Andrea's in Madrid, and at Astou's in Dakar, I am now back on the adventure trail again.
17 hours of non AC non ventilated windowless full bus ride with an outside temperature of 35 degrees celcius and 70% humidity. And the bus seats felt like they were made for dwarves. Just imagine...
My skin was so sticky and moist, it felt like I was in a bath of liquid syrup. Simply uncomfortably gross...but that is the taste of adventure. The ride brought so ma y flash backs of my trip through Asia...yet with a lot of nostalgia of the Camino. In a way I am glad I only have 5 months left of traveling alone, because I really can't picture myself traveling without Angelina anymore.
Despite it all, the bus ride had some fun moments.
*As soon as I boarded, I met 4 Peace Corps volunteers, who invited me to join them to plant trees tomorrow and celebrate 4th of July with them. So why not...
*Early this morning, because of the torrential rain, we saw a commuter car carrying 7 passengers almost drowned all the way into a muddy rain-created puddle which we were just about to try to go through as well.
*I had a doubt whether our bus driver was born with a brain or not: aside from breaking down twice through the night, he stayed almost an hour watching the commuter car being stuck in the puddle wondering how in the world we would make it through when no more than 10 meters to the right there was a perfectly flat and paved road.
*And I spent a bit of time chatting with this guy from the Gambia, in Spanish because he actually lives in Malaga. Funny...a French guy speaking Spanish with a guy from the Gambia in Senegal...
And so, now I finally found a hotel room...wouldn't really call that a hotel, nor a room...but hey, there is a fan, a bed, and running water. What else do I need? Oh, and for the Vipassana meditators the name of the hotel is Sankara...I found that interesting, hence why I chose to stay here.
So now since I haven't eaten anything since yesterday lunch, I will walk around to find some stuff to eat...especially mangoes!!!
(...)
The first thing I did when I walked out of my hostel was to go to the Ministry of health and social action. The name sounded like the perfect place to inquire about opportunities to offer my time to volunteer on projects. When I introduced myself and told them what I was a there for, they looked at me like I were from another planet. Then they finally got it and started taking about several projects going on. Interesting projects actually. But I quickly realized that being a government organization, it would probably take ages for them to make any decision and to allow me to help them. They took my info and said they would call me tomorrow. Hmmm...why not?! Later on I dis the same thing with another place called the center for regional community development. They also took my info...oh well...
As usual, when I arrive in a new town, even though I should take the time to first eat and hydrate myself, I once again walked for hours, to venture a bit everywhere in order to get my marks, sort of, and get a grasp of what the town/city is like. Hmmm...the guidebooks call Kedougou a backwater town. Yeah right! Well, technically yes, there is a river running behind the town. But it has absolutely nothing of what I would call a back water town...especially compared to Kerala in India. I know I know...I shouldnt compare.
Anyhow...I walked for hours in the burning sun. Through the markets, along the river bank, in some sort of townships. This town is huge, it's a fact.
I am very curious to know how much different the town would be outside of Ramadan. Yes, I forgot to mention that today is the second day of Ramadan. Which makes me think a lot of last years Ramadan, when I was alone in Banda Aceh, in Indonesia, for the first night and woke up on time for the first evening prayer and walked the streets to see the sea of Muslims coming in and out of the main mosque. Such a beautiful spectacle. Though I had the strength to fast for the first three days of Ramadan last year, after all the weight I lost in Nepal and how hot it is here, I am in no condition to follow any fast this year. I need to gain weight!
So, after walking for hours in the heat...I finally decided to stop at the main grocery store in town to buy a half litter of cold Coke. Astou made me realize that I shouldn't be uncomfortable eating and drinking in front of fasting Muslims during Ramadan as it is part of what the Ramadan is about, resisting to temptations and accepting those who do not fast. And so I drank that whole bottle of cold Coke as if it were the holy grail because I was so hot and thirsty. And to my surprise, it didn't seem to bother anyone around. Later on, as I was walking through the market, I bought a huge mango. The first food I would eat since yesterday lunch at Astou's. I didn't have time to buy any food before boarding the bus.
When walking back to my hostel after buying the mango, this very tall young guy approaches me, asking me if I need any help and if he can show me around his house and the town. The guy is so suspicious. He right off the bat invites me over to meet his family so that we can build trust. Weird! And then even dares proposing to take me to places where I can see different artisans, schools, and babies who are suffering and dying. What the hell!? This guy is definitely not saying the right things to build any trust. I tell him I am tired and on my way home. Maybe tomorrow. Yeah right!
When night fell, I came out of my room, well decided to go eat some more consistent food. Surprised I met three young French girls who are volunteering in the local health center. We started chatting and then went to grab a bite the four of us. They gave me a concrete picture of the local health conditions of the medical system in the town. An extremely scary and disastrous situation. Beyond anything I had experienced in Kolonodale in Sulawesi last year. I really hope I never ever need to get anything done in a local health center.
We ate in this dark outdoor place, away from the center and near the hostel. Couldnt even really see what we had in our plates.
Today was the very first day I am really alone again since I left Turkey. More than a month ago. A month with my Angelina and then time with Andrea and Astou. So I have bee feeling quite blue all day, not really knowing what to do to cheer myself up. So meeting these three foreigners from France helped a bit. And then, cherry on the cake, as if the universe had heard my prayers, Angelina calls me on my cell. It was such a huge relief! As if my heart was being glued back together all of a sudden. So despite the terrible internet signal we managed to video Skype for a few minutes. Enough to make me smile before going to sleep.
Tomorrow is another day...
July 2nd...
Life is just incredible!
It is now 10:15pm. I am in the village of Bandafasi, laying down on the bamboo mat bed of the hut of the night guard of the village who has allowed me to sleep in his hut at night for as long as I want. The hut is about 4 meters diameter with a straw cone roof. One electric plug, a small TV with one channel, a mosquito net, a couple of buckets of water for drinking, washing, and toilet, and two doors.
I wanted adventure, and so I am behaving accordingly to get it: gutsy and determined.
Kedougou is the main province of the south eastern part of Senegal, and thus the largest town of the region. 15km away is the main Bedik ethnic village of Bandafasi. Since I wanted to visit both the Bedik ethnicity and the Bassari ethnicity, Bandafasi would be my next stop.
I woke up a bit late this morning. The monsoon was pouring outside, so why would I rush out. Still, I took the time to clean up, work out a bit, and even meditated for the first time since I left Turkey. (My allergies in Spain totally prevented me from any meditation)
I left my room by noon. Probably the worst time to be outside. Oh well...
Since I had not heard back from the Peace Corps kids, not from the other tow places where I had offered my help, why would I waste time in this town which is definitely two big and commercial to my taste.
I paid my room and was given the direction to Bandafasi. So I started walking. After the Camino, any distance less than 25km sounded like a piece of cake to do in half a day. So 15km would not take more than 2.5 hours. And so I got walking, with my back pack on, the sun vertical above my head and the sky cleared from any risk of rain for the rest of the day.
On my way, I passed all the Peace Corps kids. Felt like the town was invaded by greengos. A lot of them all over the town. I guess Kedougou was the place where all the Peace Corps kids of Senegal had decided to gather and spend their independence day. I just didn't imagine that there would be so many of them.
Anyhow, I kept walking. And locals kept waving and giving me big smiles. The day was beautiful and the contrast between the green trees, the bright red of the earthy ground and the blue sky was magnificent.
So far the animals in this country have really surprised me. The sheep's here are not only huge but their faces look like the goats we have in Morocco. The donkeys I have seen look like dwarf donkeys. The birds are beautiful. Since Indonesia, monkeys scare me quite a bit, so hopefully I won't cross any on the road. It's pretty much my only concern. Well...that and lions...but I just try to ignore them and consider that as long as I see people and cattle running free, the threat of lions is far away. (Yet a few people have warned me that this part of Senegal is crowed with lions).
About 8 to 10km in, this kid on a motorcycle offers to give me a lift. Though I was really decided on walking, I changed my mind and decided to jump on the bike to see where the flow would lead. I obviously got to the village much much faster. Once there, I found a huge tree right in front of the mosque and the main grocery store where I sat down to drink some water and rest for a bit. Silly me I left Kedougou without eating any breakfast or lunch, not buying any food. Only water.
After a short rest, as I get up to walk through the town, I meet Babacar. In the village they nicknamed him the tall guy, though I think I am taller than him. Anyway, Babacar is actually from Saint Louis, so he is from the Wollof ethnicity. Here in the village he is the night guard for this UNESCO cultural village project. So when I asked him where I could find a place to sleep for the night, he kindly offers me his hut as he doesn't sleep in it during the night anyway. And when I asked him where I could find something to eat, he tells me to follow him.
Soon he introduces me to the bread maker of the town where I can buy two small baguettes. I meet the bread maker's wife who sells fish in the village, and his mom who sits me down and offers me handfuls of peanuts. I quickly nicknamed her Madame Tiga (miss peanut in the local dialect). She laughed. The family is beautiful.
Then we walk to the grocery boutique where I buy more water and two cans of sardines. The most nourishing food I could find.
I found so amazing that though most of the village is Muslim and thus fasting during the day, the family offered me to eat peanuts and Babacar invited me to eat sardine sandwiches inside his hut in front of him.
I spent the whole afternoon chatting with Babacar about his life and culture as well as the village history. He only got here a couple of years ago. He has 8 kids from several wives. He used to be a successful wood artisan before living in the village but since he moved here, the village has forbidden him from working the wood as he is not from the wood carvers caste. Incredible system. I will try to understand better how it works tomorrow and why he prefers to stay here rather than somewhere else where he could work wood again. He also explains to me that he pays about $14 of rent each month and even has a maid who cleans his hut and fills up his buckets of water every day for a $10 monthly salary. And since he works at night he has additional time during the day to do little paying gigs here and there in the village to earn extra money. I am so amazed that a guy of his social class (extremely low I suppose) pays someone else to clean his tiny hut and fill up a couple of buckets of water. I suppose it is how the system works. So strange.
Babacar then takes me to the UNESCO project site where he works to show me around and introduce me to his boss. The project is basically a large piece of land on which have been built a few well equipped huts for tourists to rent, and several other huts to showcase the arts and crafts as well as the ways of life of the five main ethnicities of the region: the Bedik, the Bassari, the Peuls, the Coniagui, and the Djallonke.
The UNESCO project manager is a young man from the Dakar area who has a very interesting background not only as a government employee but also as a traditional ballet manager. We talked for hours. He explained to me a lot about the project, about his challenges, and about his past with the ballet business. Very interesting. Once again I offered my services to volunteer with anything he might need. I even gave him a few ideas right away about his project. It has so much potential but the fact that it is a government project managed by one isolated person might not be the right approach. But he seems like a very knowledgeable and educated man. So who knows...
As the time had passed and it was almost 7:30pm, he the offered me to break the fast with him and a few employees. So I did. As the sun was setting and the sky was filling up with future rain drops, the light and the colors of the atmosphere were magical. I felt like I was at the end of the world. Magical.
Once we were done, Babacar walked me back to his hut in the dark. There a little kid brought a sort of weird looking gewy casserole, (a good thing there was barely any light in the hut) for us to eat as part of the local fast breaking process.
The village only has electricity from 5pm to 1am. When walking outside, there were only a few light polls for this very big village, and only a few kids were outside. Well at least visible. The adults were either all gathered around their hut's TV sets or outside as well but around a weak flashlight, eating with their family. It is a bit surreal how now that there is electricity the piece of the night is a disturbed by the echoing single TV channel throughout the TV sets of all the huts of the village.
So Babacar had a spoon fool of the gewy dish, turned on the TV to have some light in the hut, and took off to his night job. I stayed all alone in this small hut...still amazed by the day I just had. Before making my second sardine sandwich of the day, I quickly undress and walk outside in the tiny straw fenced piece of land to take my shower. I am pretty much naked, standing in the grass, the straw fence isn't higher than my eye level, the stars are shining above my head, and as I am soaping and scrubbing my body before rinsing it with the help of a small bucket of water just like in Indonesia, I can see the villagers walking by a meter away from me. Surreal yet amazing. It is not even that hot outside, and the water is at room temperature, so it is perfect to cool down a bit before going to bed.
I shower, change, eat, and brush my teeth. The hut is mine. I pull down the mosquito net which reminds me that the three French girls from last night warned me against a very high level of malaria in the area and yet I forgot to buy the preventive treatment from Kedougou's pharmacy this morning. And while I am writing this post, I am also watching the only TV channel which is having an extremely interesting show on Islam and globalization. It was a very long day. Astou just called me to check on me.
I am finishing this post, I will now get up to close the doors and turn off the light, get back in bed and get ready to have probably the hottest night ever so far hoping that the malaria carrying mosquito have mercy for me.
I hope I don't need to use the toilets during the night, my cheap Nokia cell phone is all I have for flashlight, and well, the toilet area is not only outdoors and open roof but also quite a few steps away.
And I am a bit concerned about the tip of the cone ceiling/roof as it doesn't seem to be fully closed...and given how torrential the monsoon has been so far both today and yesterday morning, it could be quite a problem if water managed to fall through that hole. But I suppose that if it were a problem Babacar would have mentioned it...I hope.
Salam and good night.
July 3rd, or farming day...
Today was a spectacular day!!!
Babacar came back from his night shift by 8am. So I had to get up and liberate the bed for him to get some rest. After brushing my teeth and changing clothe, I managed to meditate for almost an hour, there, on the floor, in the hut, and facing Babacar sleeping. It was so hot and the floor was so hard.
I left the hut discretely so as not to wake him up, and went outside where a villager put me on the way to walk/hike to the Ethiwar Bedic village high up on the mountain.
The hike up was quick but I didn't feel so comfortable as I didn't really know what kind of animal inhabited that forest.
Once I reached the top it was magical. A large number of straw huts spread all around and overlooking the other valley.
Not a sound around other than the forest birds and a couple of baby goats screaming for attention.
All of a sudden I saw this women, bare chested, carrying a baby on her back, and preparing either a late breakfast or an early lunch.
I stayed back as I didn't want to disturb the peace of the village nor step forward until being invited by a local. So I stayed under the central village tree for about an hour.
Little by little flocks of kids and women started arriving from the field way further and under. Only women and kids. Since all of them passed by me, they were aware of my presence, and thus, soon after, I got up and dared walking into the village and ask the first woman I had seen and who had seen me, Therese, if I could get closer and walk around. She said yes.
The least curious boys soon offered to go fetch some fruits up in the trees for me...and for a fee. I said I would taste them first, and soon got into quick talk with them.
Soon after, the youngest kids of the village started playing monkey and climbing all over me. They all laughed, and so did the women. Finally I felt comfortable and sort of welcome.
And so I just stood there, making conversation with Therese and playing monkey games with the kids.
After a while, I finally saw the first and only man arrive. His name is Bernard, this is a christian village. Bernard happens to be a catechism teacher down in Bandafasi, and though he looks 25 years old, he is 40!
We quickly start bonding as he is very well educated and not shy at all. He tells me he is on his way down the mountain to go help at a "corvee" or a chore literally translated. Pretty much, whenever a villager needs to plow his land and doesn't have access to bull plowing resources, he sets up a date and invites all the villagers from the same community to join and give him a hand. And so, about 50 or so people, men and women of all ages, gather all day with their hand plow and spend the day plowing and having a ton of fun dancing and singing. Some people provide enough food for all and also enough drink (palm wine and millet beer). And so as the day goes on, everyone (both men and women) gets more ad more drunk, and the "show" gets more and more entertaining. Everyone lines up side by side, and following the rhythm of ethnical songs as well as a couple of men wearing the traditional costumes and masks ringing some special bells, everyone is plowing at the same pace and from time to time, a few fool around and jump around dancing as if in a sort of trance of joy.
When I arrived there it was like one of those authentic spectacles you only dream to see. Unlike in the documentaries usually showing such ceremony I was the only foreigner, no video camera and with the only intention of soaking up the culture and blending in. I didn't even dare or want to use my camera until the end of the day...just out of respect and also to send the message that I wasn't there just for photos but for real genuine cultural experience and also to give a hand.
But I was to shy to get my hands dirty before lunch, and thus when lunch time arrived, I felt uncomfortable. Yet they still invited me to sit down with them. Well, the men eat together in a corner, the married women in another and the unmarried girls in a third place. Thus creating like three small communities.
I sat down but made sure to say that if I eat with them I promise to join them and plow the land after lunch.
The stuff (I say stuff, because when I saw it at first my reaction was "what the hell is this thing?!") they served for lunch was the absolute weirdest and least appetizing thing I had ever seen. A huge bowl filled with an off whitish paste surrounding a strange green gewy jelly. And everyone was just digging in with their supposedly clean hands and then basically shoving the combo down their throats and licking their hands clean. Can't get anymore primitive than that. I am pretty sure that not a single one of my friends other than a perhaps Sebastian and Angelina, would have dared even touching that stuff. But as for me, it was unthinkable to play the picky foreigner and even ask what it was. So I sat down, rinsed my hands a bit, and just dug in. Surprise, the stuff was super hot, and the gew was super duper hot and gewy. Hmmm...if I wait I but my hand, so I just shove the thing into my mouth. And you know what? It was actually yummy. So yummy that I was the last one left around the big bowl still eating. Lol it looked so nourishing and I hadn't had any food all day yet. So what the hell?!
The paste is actual!y a millet paste, and the gew is made of baoba tree leaves. And well, since Bernard was sitting at another circle, I made more friends. This community is fantastic. All the men of the same age behave as if part of a fraternity. They all care for each other. Like a self regulating body of equals. Very impressive.
After lunch and during the resting time, I was offered to taste the millet beer (looks like a thick chocolate milk mix), not a big fan, and the palm wine, (looks like a skimmed milk liquid), very big fan as it was so refreshing and yummy and reminded me of an improved tuak from Sulawesi in Indonesia.
I met the head of the community, nicknamed the Puma, who also look s 25yrs old at the most but who is almost 40! Very nice guy. We end up chatting for quite a large part of the afternoon. After a while he tells me he has to get up and back to plowing so that the rest of the villagers will get the signal to start working again. So he does.
As people start working again, I quickly find a hand plow from a drunk kid, and join them all in the plowing. It is so much fun. It took a while for people to stop staring at me. Especially the women. Two very old women even fought to hold my arm. It was hilarious. It made me wonder, if 40 year olds look like they are 25, how old really are those who look 80?
And so the same work as this morning's goes on, except that this time I am among them, getting very dirty (I am white skin so he shows much more and fast), and quickly getting my first blisters. Silly me, I realized the mistake I made and what I should have done earlier to prevent the blisters from happening. Anyhow...such is life.
The whole afternoon all I hear from people coming up to me, young and elders, is "en tout cas, toi Tu cultives bien la!", which means that I plow like a pro. Very flattering, and it amazes them even more when I tell them that I am not a farmer and that it is my first time using a short hand plow.
The weather is spectacular. Barely any cloud. Blue sky. Sparkling sun...unfortunately.
Though I had put a layer of sunscreen this morning, with the sweat and all, it quickly wore off, and led my shoulder skin to become a BBQ. Ouch!!! I felt the burning intensifying as the afternoon went on, and only had the reflex of spreading fresh mud all over my skin, a bit to late. Again, to late to do anything about it. So I sucked it up and went on, hoping for clouds to arrive so as to get some shade.
Well, the clouds arrived, though a bit late as we were all done, but they arrived very fast, and filled with thunder and rain. The sky quickly turned black!
Bernard invited me to sleep in the mountain village tomorrow night. Most definitely YES! I offered my help to join him in planting rice tomorrow during the day. The Puma has a "corvee" for his own land on Saturday, another most definite YES. I also befriend the head of the Bandafasi Red Cross unit, offering my help for anything he would need.
Before the rain catches up, I hurry back to the red dirt unpaved road. Strangely I am the only man, walking along about 20 young women carrying buckets and pots on top of their heads. As I hurry, one of the shouts at me "wait for us!". OK, why not. And so I walk along them, getting more and more soaked as the rain starts pouring. Thankfully, it is only a flash downpour, and the rain soon stops, leaving place to a magnificent double rainbow. The colors of the sky and nature are now more beautiful than ever. Bright bright bright. Lush green, bright red, very contrasted clouds, sparkling sun behind the clouds, and two rainbows...and me walking on the red road along with several traditionally dressed women carrying lots on their heads. Am I dreaming or is this real!? As I was walking trying to protect my camera from the rain, I was trying to digest how spectacular and privileged of a day I had had. Unbelievable!
There a moment where I started laughing by myself though. During the afternoon I finally received a text back from the Peace Corps kids telling me to meet them up at their office in Kedougou. Hahaha! Yeah right! As of hanging out with a bunch of american kids speaking English could be any more magical than what I was living?! Thank you but no thank you. I knew there was a reason why they took so long to reply and why I decided to just leave town. Voila!
When I arrived in town, I ask the UNESCO guy for the favor of taking a shower in his building. I was way to disgusting and dirty to clean up with a tiny little bucket of water. He said yes. Yay!
On my way to go get my towel and stuff, I got stopped at almost every family hut to chat with their owners. At least on the Christian side. Since I spend the day with them all, they all wanted to chat. Everyone wanted me to meet their family and see their "compound" of huts. I felt like a super star. Lol
Because I took my time in the shower and washed some clothes as well, I missed the breaking of the fast with Mr UNESCO and Babacar, but that's OK. I just wanted to scrub myself clean and lay down in my hut to dry and rest. And so I did.
Though I was supposed to join the crowed in another village at 8pm for a sort of after party of the agri day (a night of celebration, more drinking, and more masks), I am to tired and changed my mind at the last minute. Good thing I dis as it is now 10:09pm, and it is pouring rain again. And I would have hates to have to walk at night, on the muddy unpaved road, the 2 km back to my hut. No way!
So voila...I just had my dinner sardine sandwich (little wink to Angelina, she knows why) and am more than ready to go to sleep, with for lullaby the rain pouring outside.
Sweet dreams...I can hardly imagine how tomorrow could get better than today, but I am hopeful and optimistic. :-)
July 4th, rice planting day...
Gosh last night was agitated in terms of rain! I definitely got confirmation that the straw roof of Babacar's hut was not waterproof. Water was dripping in from all sides. At least, the bed was safe and stayed dry. But on top of the water dripping inside, the disturbingly loud and violent thunders prevented me from sleeping fully. I just wasn't sure whether the storm was going to either blow away or crush down the roof of the hut. At least I had fully waterproofed and packed my bag, just in case. A bit like my first trekking week in Nepal.
Anyhow, just like yesterday, I woke up to Babacar knocking on the door at 8am. By the time he fell asleep on his bed, I had changed, packed and left his hut in order to go meet up with Bernard as planned, to go help him plant rice. Or so I thought.
I obviously was way to early. When I reached our meeting point, the campement of Leontine which also happens to be inside the neighboring village, I met this 18yr old French guy Yohan who has been spending 2 to 3 months every year in this village since he was born. So he practically is a Bedik himself. Very cool and interesting guy. 18 years old and already has published two books, one on the Bediks and one on his trip to Brazil when he was 14. Like I said, very interesting guy.
This morning I was told that yesterday, during the day and evening celebration of the cultivation (I didn't attend because I was to beat) the villagers, mostly the me, no more than 20 of them, drank about 500 liters of wine! I am dead serious! These guys are hardcore!
This afternoon I realized not only that Bernard had misled me, the rice planting was actually a full "corvee", and that farmers around here stay farmers because they spend every penny they have on liquor. These guys are heavy duty alcoholics! And well, when you mix heavy drinking with blasting sun, the result is not so nice,
Anyhow, on a different note, today was Angelina's photo exhibition first day in Sao Paolo. Yes, she is an extremely talented photographer. I hope her show is nothing but success. I wish I could be next to her for the occasion. She actually texted me today again, and as usual, it was the emotional highlight of my day. I tried to send her a text reply but am not sure she received it.
Today is also the day the French soccer team got out of the world cup. Am actually surprised they made it that far. Lol Well, Brazil won, so at least half of me (Angelina being my other half) is still on the race. :-)
So today, as planned, I am going to Ethiwar, Bernard's village on top of the mountain, to sleep. And since we were late, we started to hike up at night. Ha! I learnt of a very cool trick of you don't have a real flashlight with you. Just get a bull, preferably your own, to ai ply lead the way. Domesticates animals always know the way on a trail. So that way you just have to follow the animal. Simple as that.
In our case, the bulls refused to cooperate, so we ended up using our cell phone lights. And gosh, the hike was hooooooot! I had rarely sweated that much before.
When we arrived at the top of the mountain, it was amazing, no light bit the stars'. Only a few conversation noises around hot red coals in the darkness of groups of huts. No candles nor fire. Just red coals and cell phone lights.
We had dinner under the stars. Spectacular. The air was cool, the atmosphere so peaceful. Only Angelina was missing. Then I spent quite some time just playing with the kids. Their laughs are so addictive. They were all around me. All 5 of Bernard's kids.
There were no options to lay down other than the ones already taken by the family, so after a while of uncomfortable sitting with the kids, I got up and went to my hut. It was already 10:30pm! Incredible how without light, internet, Facebook, smartphone, or video games, people can still entertain themselves so much and as a united family. If only families from the West were still like that nowadays.
Astou, Baye, Sally, Malik called me right before having dinner in Dakar and it made me so happy. I miss them.
Falling asleep happy with a big smile...praying once again for the mosquitos to have mercy.
July 5th, more cultivation...
Today was sooooo exhausting. I think, having been here for three days and done three "corvees" is taking a toll on me. Like one man told me in the afternoon "mon corps me fait mal".
Since I had promised Jack aka Puma that I would join them for his corvee, I stuck to my words. Gosh...little did I know there would be so much work.
I just don't understand how people think in this region. Since the weather is generally so hot and the sun so burning, why do they start such activities at mid day to finish late afternoon? It would make so much more sense to me to start early morning and finish by mid day. But no, it is not the case. I arrived on the site of the corvee with a few other guys by 11am. We were the first ones. And the land...seriously!? Not like the previous corvees. It was not about just plowing the soil with a hand plow, but rather to deforest a large area, about 1 to 2 hectares. Cut down the trees, remove the bushes, burn the tree stumps, cut the tall grass...so mi h work to do and no one showed until 1 or 2 pm. Perhaps because to get there we have to walk a good 4 to 5 km.
When I saw how much disaster we were making in terms of shaving down the forest I felt so bad. At first I hesitated at cutting trees and bushes, but the I figured that since I was there I might as well do something and help out. Pointless to try and explain to them. I guess they have to eat and survive. If only these villagers were not so addicted to liquor, they would probably do something more profitable and ambitious with their life.
At one point I was chatting with this kid (well, he looked 18 but probably was 30), and saw him throw a cigarette pack plastic wrap on the floor. When I scorned him for doing this his reply was: "what other options are there?" When I told him how long it takes to decompose he was in shock...yet am pretty sure it is not going to change anything in his behavior.
The whole afternoon the famous mask was here again to pace the day and motivate everyone to work. Another day filled with music, singing, and tons of dancing. As for me, I only took part to the labor, but not to the singing or dancing, as it seems there is some sort of special procedure to follow based on your gender and age. But it was so pleasant to see how everyone was having so much fun while working...though being drunk definitely helped I suppose.
I am pretty sure that the culture and their economy would be so dramatically different without the liquor factor. I had the reflex to think that if they had a healthier life, their life expectancy would probably be much older and their life would be much more productive. They might die at a young age, but if they live happy, does it really matter?
At one point I was chatting with this big guy soit the world cup and then performance of the French soccer team. And he said to me: "Il y a trop de noirs dans lequipe de france." There are to many black players in the team. I found that hilarious coming from a black guy.
Today was such a hot day! I've never wanted to run away from the sun so much.
The more I observe the Bediks, and the more I am amazed by how united and close people from same ages are. I finally understood today why that is. Pierre, one of Bernard's cousin told me about the initiation process. Basically the process during which a boy becomes a man. It is the most important and sought after celebration of the year in this part of the country. And it is still following ancestral rules. One of which being that the young boys of the same age, when their then is to be initiated, are supposed to spend the entire "hivernage" (rainy season) surviving on their own among each other in the jungle, and only comeback when the rainy season is over. During such phase of their life they have to learn how to survive in a hostile environment, build a place to sleep, find food, cloth, maintain hygiene, drink, and entertain themselves. Enough to create the most solids of friendship and bonds for life.
It is funny, because the hierarchical system in this ethnicity wants that adults can ask kids to do anything for them. Like their personal servants. When a boy is initiated, he can now do the same with younger kids as well.
I am still laughing a bit inside when villagers tell me their first names. We are in the middle of the "brousse" (countryside) and because of the spread of Christianity, people have the most christian French bourgeois names ever.
I actually had brief chat about religion today with a villager. Bit when I told him that I didn't believe in any religion but rather in the law of nature and in myself, all I got was confused look and then silence. One day I will push and try to understand what Christianity means to them.
This morning I asked Astou to send a message to Angelina via Facebook. I am so frustrated to not be able to stay connected with her every day.
Tonight I am sharing a hut with Yohan. I haven't slept well at all for days now, and the idea to finally have some sort of soft mattress sounded so delightful. Not sure how much they will charge me for the bed and food yet, but what the hell. I want a bit of comfort and some decent food. So for diner, Nicolas wife cooked some delicious spaghetti with an onion and mustard sauce. It was amazing. The hut, however, was an oven. I have never sweated that much at night in my life. As I am writing this post, I am dripping sweat as if I were sitting under the shower.
If only the fan that is in the room were working...
July 6th, a day of nothingness...
I really miss Angelina a lot. I can't wait to get to Brazil.
Today was a day of nothingness in terms of physical activity, it felt so good to just sit and do nothing but rest, eat, and chat with the locals.
I did some laundry in the morning. Water is not as abundant here as it was in Asia or in Spain, so I can't really wash my clothe everyday as I was used to...which means a bit of stinkyness. Oh well..,getting used to it every day.
Though we intended not to do any "corvee" today, we still wanted to trekk a bit through the jungle to get to Andiel, via Ethiwar. We had planned to so it with Bernard. But she we got to Ethiwar towards the late morning, Bernard was busy planting some corn down under the village. So we gave up on this plan. Another day...
Towards the mid afternoon, a group of 13 american highschool kids arrived at the campement. They are on a tour organized by Where There Be Dragons. Basically an organization that takes kids on a deep cultural and adventurous voyage. These kids are learning the dialects of each ethnicities as they go through their areas. Bright kids but you so can tell they try hard to be more mature than they really are. Americans are often like that though. Expected to be adults much sooner than they should be.
Anyhow, it was interesting to chit chat with them and their guides.
Then later on arrived two Spanish girls. Primary school teachers. Off course I was immediately thrilled to speak Spanish with them. I just love the language. And chatting about the Camino and about travels was so delightful. We kept on chatting on and on as we toured the village with their guide. Really cool girls.
I had a beer before dinner. Reminded me of the Camino. Only wish Angelina was there to share it with her as usual.
Yesterday was the day of the "corvee" of the family right next to the campement where I am staying. So when they were done with the plowing of the land and back to the village, they started the evening/night celebration which basically consists in getting the Gods' blessing for the farming season. And it is and was a true spectacle. In the darkness, overlooked by the stars and the crescent of the moon, the whole family (a good 30 people) were dancing and singing like mad at the rhythm of the same mask that paces the "corvee". Such an incredible privilege to witness this. It was beautiful. In the obscurity of the night, people filled with total joy expressing their joy by dancing and singing. Based on the rhythm of the music, it was either the very young ones, or the girls, or the women to dance. It seemed, just like during day time, as if the villagers, by dancing, were trying to charm the mask.
Right before going to sleep, I called Angelina just to hear her voice. It seemed that her photo exhibition went super well. I am not surprised.
It is very happy, yet with a big rush to get to Brazil, that I am going to sleep. Lucky me, tonight, it seems that there will be wind.
Sweet windy dreams...
July 7th, snake day...
Today is the day of Bernard's "corvee", which means farming up the mountain and on a slope.
The morning was spent sitting inside the roots of the main village tree. Well, the biggest tree, casting the most shade, with the most comfortable roots. After a late breakfast in the coo! Very windy air, I went to sit down those roots, and chat with the locals for a few hours. So relaxing and authentic to just be there, waiting for the da to pass by, sitting on the aide of the road. Ufff...made me so convinced that my life should be about staying busy and not falling into the cycle of choosing the easy lazy way.
At 11am, Amadou and I took off to get changed and head up the mountain to reach the " corvee". We met our first snake on the trail. A long bright green snake. Surprise! It got more scared than we did and quickly sneaked away.
We reached Ethiwar soon after. So grateful that it was so windy outside. Hoping for it to last all day.
The village was not as quiet as usual. The group of huts of Bernard's family was busy getting everything ready for the "corvee". Food ams drinks mostly. I knew right away that it would take a long while for everything to get started. So i sat down and started to play with the kids and their infectious smiles and laughs. I could have done it all day. These kids are the most adorable ever.
All of a sudden, Bernard told me let's go, and so we went. No surprise, we were the first ones to arrive, yet again. I didn't expect the field to be so far away from the village. It was a good 40 minutes away, crossing a beautiful plateau. The field itself is on such a steep slope filed with rocks, bushes and tree stumps all over. Ufff...a lot of work ahead of us.
People took a long time to arrive.
We met our other two snakes throughout the rest of the day. Two short brown snakes which apparently are mortal. After we caught the first one, it got me a bit scared of just diving my bare hands, wearing sandals, into tall grass. For all I know, there could be snakes just about everywhere.
After thinking about it a bit, it occurred to me that I was totally insane to take such risks, especially after someone told me that a few villagers died of snake bites the year before...ut after all, all the villagers were doing the same thing.
We started to work by 1pm and worked for a good 2,5 hours before taking a break for lunch and liquids. I say liquids because the villagers here, like I mentioned before, prefer palm wine or millet beer than water.
Each day I can't help being shocked when I see 4 or 5 year olds getting their own share of the liquids, and walking around with their own little bottles filled with whichever liquor. Incredible!
Today I was strong though. No alcohol, not even a drop. And I stuck to it. They looked at me weird, but I insisted, and told them, jokingly, to give my portion to Kali, one of Bernard's kid who is about 5yrs old.
After eating so much "tot", I even fell deep asleep for some time, what a good nap!
The rest of the day was spent planting millet seeds, as well as watching the women dance and sing like crazy. Entering like in a trance. I swear, it is like a choreographed show. And me, I always just stay there, watching with a silly grin on my face, just happy to be there and allowed to be there...wishing I could fully share everything I am seeing with all my friends, as it truly is something impossible to fully convey with words only.
I really don't understand how they can keep on cultivating like this after nowadays. For days now, we spend hours just cutting down grass and weeds and bushes, but leaving it all where it was cut. Sometimes the roots are dead and sometimes, often times they are still in good enough shape to grow back. Yet, at no point the villagers will gather all the cut remains to clean the land and leave only plowed dirt. They just plant the seeds among the cut remains. The problem is that because of this, they need to redo the exact same work over and over again throughout the farming season in order to clean up the sprouting seeds they have planted. Wouldn't it be much more efficient ands effective to do a very thorough plowing once and for all before planting the seeds, that way the monitoring of it all is much simpler and requires a lot less effort?
When they plant the seeds it is just as chaotic. There is no specific line order to have clean easy to maintain seedings, but instead, the villagers just poke holes all over the place, sometimes even overlapping, and drop a couple of seeds, in such a way that when it grows back, it all looks like a wild forest.
I just don't get it. I am pretty sure numerous NGOs and other organizations have come multiple times to teach modern more productive farming techniques. Why hasn't it caught on? No clue!
When we finished the day, the sun was still high up, but because of the thick white clouds. It made the sun appear as if it were the moon. Beautiful sight through the lush jungle trees.
We started walking up the slope, I picked up Kali on my shoulders, and followed the girls who were still dancing and singing as if they had drank a whole liter of red bull each. Just watching them made me tired. After such a long day of physical labor I couldn't believe that they would still have so much energy.
Anyhow, I followed them, smiling, with Kali on my shoulders...am pretty sure he fell asleep at some point, as the walk back was long, very long.
The girls stopped (walking, not dancing) by the well, I kept on going as it was getting dark and I still had to hike all the way down the mountain after dropping Kali home,
I arrived back to Indar, where the campement is, right as the sun had said its very last goodbye to the moon for the day. What I craved the most then was to take a good shower, I was black covered in dirt and cut all over my legs and arms from the tall grass.
As usual, before bucket-showering, in walked outside and filled up the bucket with water from the tube well, dreading for the bucket to be full so I could scrub off all the dirt at last.
Dinner was yummy...Marie cooked some spaghettis again, with her onion sauce. Yohan served himself, and I ate everything that was left. A good kilo. The more days I work, the hungrier I get. Good!
Now I am dead. Last night I slept so well finally after so many sleepless nights of discomfort. Hearing Angelina's voice before going to bed most definitely helped.
Tomorrow we have a long day ahead, as we planned to hike all the way to Iwol village, and spend the night there.
So sweet snakeless dreams.
...to be continued...
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