Showing posts with label human rights. Show all posts
Showing posts with label human rights. Show all posts

Friday, December 12, 2014

How to React to Talibés: 7 Tips for Peace Corps Volunteers

Talibé children in Senegal and the flood of issues connected to them – from health to human rights and child protection – have become my world for the past year and a half. I almost can’t even remember what it was like to first arrive in country and see these scruffy kids everywhere with their begging bowls. It’s hard to remember how much research I had to do and how many visits I had to make to daaras* in Kolda before the complexities of the talibé system really sunk in. And there’s always more to learn.

From the beginning, I felt that many talibés were being exploited, forced to beg for change on the streets to “support” their marabout (Quranic teacher) and his daara. I didn’t understand why a society could allow this, though. And I didn’t know if this was a facet of the culture I was supposed to respectfully ignore – or if many Senegalese actually felt the way I felt.

I can now answer that question: yes, many do feel the same way. But “Africans don’t have the culture of denunciation,” a radio journalist in Kolda explained to me once. Layers of tradition, respect for religious leaders, and poverty have prevented most people from speaking out for many years. That is changing now, little by little.

The hardest part for me now is to remember how I used to feel about talibés, these sometimes sweet and sometimes abrasive, world-weary boys roaming the streets. But when I read back through my old journals, I remember: I was intimidated, overwhelmed and a little frustrated. I didn’t know what to think about these kids because I didn’t understand the whole system – but they wouldn’t leave me alone, and they were making my transition into this new culture even harder.

It wasn’t until I sat through a presentation by former PCV (and talibé guru) Hadiel Mohamed a few months into my service in early 2013, and then followed up by pestering her with a million questions, that I understood how to look at the issue and how to keep my compassion front and center when dealing with them. Now by working with SeneGAD**, I’m hoping to pass that perspective on to as many people as possible, because honestly: it doesn’t come naturally. I still have to work at it every day.

Abrasive or confrontational kids getting up in your space will inspire negative feelings or reactions if you don’t train yourself. And that’s okay – you just have to recognize why you’re feeling these things and know what to do.

So how do you train yourself to look at talibé kid with a different mentality? How should we react?


Here are 7 tips on how to act around talibés:

1.  Remind yourself, when you see them, that these kids have had an extremely hard childhood. They’ve been treated differently from other kids and exploited – sometimes abused – since age 4 or 5. They are children forced into the role of adults, finding food and caring for themselves. They are often uneducated and their future might look pretty bleak. Whatever attitude they project at you is a defense mechanism they’ve learned to survive a very harsh life.

2.  If you feel angry or annoyed at what these boys say or do to you, try to redirect your anger towards the system and the adults who have put them into this life and made them act this way. Use that anger as fuel towards building projects that can help. It’s not the fault of the children.

3.  The best response to a talibé’s demand for money is to greet him. Remind him that you’re a person, he’s a person. Shake his hand, ask his name and where he’s from.

4.  If a talibé keeps asking for money and you don’t want to give, here are some things you can say: “Sorry, I don’t have change.” Or “Next time, inshallah!” If you want to make a joke out of it, you can add something like, “Sorry man, I’m really not ‘noosing’ these days… Times are rough!” (Noos is a Wolof and Pulaar expression meaning having fun and having money.) Phrasing things this way won’t harm anyone and will make talibé feel acknowledged. Simply saying “no” without explanation is not how the culture works here. These kids won’t understand your deeper motivations behind this – they’ll just assume you are stingy, rude, or don’t care about them.

5.  See a big pack of talibés coming your way? This used to intimidate me and I’d try to avoid it, but now I try to look at is as another chance to remind them that we don’t think they’re invisible or distasteful. Give them a smile and a greeting, or at least a wave and eye contact, as you walk through. You don’t have to stop and be surrounded – that acknowledgement is enough.

6.  If a talibé insults you or makes a joke at your expense, either ignore it or make a joke back. Getting angry will not result in behavior change.

7.  Give something (not money) once in a while! There are countless debates over whether it’s an act of compassion or simply “fuels a bad system” to give to talibés. After all this time working with them, I’ve decided that giving money should be avoided, since it often goes back to the marabout and does perpetuate the system. However, it’s good to give the kids other small things every now and then – fruit or other nutritious food, soap, sandals, etc. It can help them meet an immediate need, can make them happy for a little while, and can incline them to trust and like you.

Most importantly, remember these are at-risk kids, generally far away from their families and often lacking a mentor to guide them through life. Some marabouts fill that role, but others do not, teaching them to memorize the Quran and little else. Who knows what kind of impact you can have if you try?



*Daaras = schools where talibés live and study the Quran under tutelage of a marabout

**SeneGAD = Senegal’s Gender and Development group for Peace Corps Volunteers, focused on gender equality and youth empowerment

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Eyes on Talibés in Kolda: Our First Regional Talibé Conference

I really didn’t know how it would go down. I honestly didn’t know if everyone we invited would show up. But there they were, 38 talibé boys flowing into the room, shaking my hand shyly. The next day, 39 Kolda villagers showed up – both men and women. On the third day, 37 Koranic teachers (marabouts) swept into the room in their long robes (grand boubous). Every population we’d hoped to reach had made an appearance.

This is the first project I’ve tackled here in Senegal that actually had me nervous, wondering if I was overreaching by trying to make it happen. It was the first time I went off the grid, trying something that hadn’t been done in my region or by a PCV in Senegal before, as far as I know. A little scary, but somehow it all came together in the end!

On October 10, 11 and 12, Kolda successfully pulled off its first regional conference on “Daara Modernization and Talibé Child Protection,” an event I organized in partnership with several different organizations working for child protection in Senegal (Tostan, World Vision, USAID, the UN Office on Drugs and Crime / UNODC, the Ministry of Justice’s anti-trafficking bureau, La Lumière, Enda, and more).

For each day of the conference, we invited a different target audience: 40 talibés from the city of Kolda, 40 men and women from nearby villages (community leaders or potential parents of talibés), and 40 marabouts (20 from the city of Kolda, and 20 from villages). Local NGOs, community actors, and officials were also invited. We showed a film and had a panel of 5-8 speakers for each day, all Senegalese experts on daara modernization, Islam, child protection, and community mobilization.





Background on the Issue

Exploitation of talibés, young students of the Koran often forced to beg on the streets, remains an extensive problem in Senegal. Most of these children live at Koranic schools (daaras) under the tutelage of marabouts, spending their days memorizing the Koran and begging for coins or food. Many suffer from extreme poverty, hunger, and abuse. Many are denied a full education, never attending French school and studying only the Koran. This lifestyle makes these children Senegal’s most at-risk population.

Over the past several years, media attention has thrown this human rights issue into the spotlight. The Senegalese government started a national movement to modernize the daara system and improve conditions for talibé. Unfortunately, public attention to this movement remains largely concentrated in the northern half of Senegal, even though the issue is just as pervasive in the south. In fact, my region of Kolda in the south is really an epicenter for human trafficking of talibés. Daaras here receive a flow of children from Guinea, Guinea Bissau, and Mali, and Kolda talibés are often sent north to live in big city daaras (Dakar, Mbour, Thiès, and St. Louis).

Hundreds of daaras exist throughout the Kolda Region. Throughout my first year and a half of service, I visited dozens of these daaras and started developing relationships with the local marabouts and talibés. While we do have handfuls of “modern daaras” in Kolda, the majority are traditional ones that teach nothing but the Koran and still send the boys out begging. Many of the marabouts I’ve met are unaware that the system could be any different. Same goes for parents who send their boys away – and for talibés who see little hope for their future.

This lack of knowledge about the daara modernization movement is why I wanted to bring the discussion down to Kolda. We’ve had small meetings and causeries before, but nothing bringing together all three target populations involved in the issue. It was a first!

Goals of the Event

With all of this in mind, the objectives of the conference I organized were:

1.  To motivate Kolda talibés and give them a chance to discuss their difficulties, hopes and fears for the future. The points they raised were then communicated to the two other groups (marabouts and village parents).

2.  To raise awareness of the Senegalese Government’s national efforts to modernize the system (enforcement of regulations, construction of new “modern daaras,” financial support.) 

3.  To suggest to community members steps they can take in the meantime to modernize local daaras and improve conditions for talibés. We can’t wait passively for the State to fix everything. It’s really up to local communities to take charge of their children and daaras, as some have done already by implementing Daara Management Committees and/or Child Protection Committees.

4. To gather recommendations for next steps from each target population (talibés, community members, and marabouts) and plan follow-up activities.

To be considered a “modern daara” recognized by the State, a Koranic school must meet certain specific qualifications, including:
  • Students receive both a French and Koranic education
  • Hygienic and sanitary conditions
  • Safe and secure housing for talibés
  • No begging

It’s true that this whole subject is a very sensitive issue with many religious and cultural complications. I didn’t want to offend anyone, but I was convinced that the conversation needed to be started. I definitely couldn’t have done it alone, though.


The Project Team

Honestly, the entire success of the project was due to my amazing project partners and panel speakers. Speakers from local NGOs, the Kolda Academic Inspector, and government representatives all made important contributions. UNODC sent a speaker to discuss human trafficking and screen a film about talibés. But it was a marabout, in fact, who was the life and breath of this project.

Thierno Mouhamadou Diamanka, one of my community work partners and President of Kolda’s Association of Koranic Masters, helped me plan out the project and led many of the activities and discussions during the conference. As a respected marabout who has chosen to modernize his daara, he was able to reach out to his peers and really hold their attention. Behavior change – especially when ingrained traditions and beliefs are involved – won’t happen quickly, but marabouts listen to Diamanka and respect his views.

I can’t even remember now how I originally met Diamanka, but we’ve been working together for over a year and he continues to amaze me with his dedication to children and to Kolda’s community development. Before the conference, he accompanied me all over town to help me invite marabouts and talibés in person and explain the program.

Another extremely valuable participant was Mouhamed Chérif Diop, Tostan’s director of child protection projects based in Dakar. He has spent years working with communities and marabouts around Senegal and is a well known among Koranic masters for his radio talks. He was able to explain the steps other communities have taken to modernize their daara system and outlined what communities need to do to get there. In his words, positive change for the talibé situation in Senegal must come through an overall change in social norms, led by communities and guided by a clear concept of child dignity, rights, and protection.


Results

Despite my worries about who would show up for the conference and whether or not we would offend anyone, we had no major problems during the 3 days! Nearly everyone showed up, and our panel speakers were able to answer all questions and keep the audience calm. With all the experts present, there was no question that couldn’t be answered – whether it related to Islam, the law, academic standards, government actions, child protection, or the practical steps of daara modernization.

Everyone seemed really interested to learn what daara modernization entailed and many community members participated in the discussion or proposed ideas. None of the talibés or marabouts came away resenting me. In fact, they seemed happy to have been included! (Some even showed up that we didn’t invite. The more the merrier.)

In total, 164 people were involved in this conference. On the talibé day, Peace Corps VSA Sakhir Dia, himself a former talibé, shared his personal story with the boys. Thierno Diamanka also played an Islam Q&A game with the boys called “Genie en Herbe” (don’t ask me why it’s called that), and I worked on my throwing arm by hurling candy to the winners. All of this seemed to loosen the boys up, and they really participated with a candor I didn’t expect in the group discussions.

DAY 1: Here are some of the difficulties with the current daara system as listed by the talibés:
  • Begging and the requirement of a daily quota that must be given to the marabout
  • Some marabouts do not teach; some exploit their talibés 
  • Poor living conditions 
  • Lack of professional training or apprenticeships
  • Children run away from their daaras because of abuse 
  • Vulnerability of talibé children 
  • Being treated like a criminal by the public
  • Street life (temptation to drugs and crime)
  • Beatings / violence 
  • Lack of rest or leisure time for talibé children
  • Inadequate housing (insecure, unsanitary) 
  • Unorganized daaras / education methods not conducive to learning (ex : multiple class levels all combined in one single daara)
  • Difficulties in finding a job after studies at the daara are complete
  • Lack of teaching materials







    DAY 2: Here were the community members’ recommendations for next steps:
    • Send committees to raise awareness and train all Kolda villages and communities in daara modernization
    • Set standards for marabouts  
    • Identify all marabouts with talibés in specific zones (daara mapping) 
    • Raise awareness among Koranic masters; encourage them to accept the merging of daaras
    • Conduct trainings with Koranic masters of the same zone  
    • Discuss child rights with marabouts and communities
    • Equitable geographical distribution of modern daaras constructed by the State 
    • Call to action for communities and Senegalese Government (need support for projects) 
    • Harmonization of interventions (need collaboration of all entities working towards child protection / daara modernization / education)
    • Establish a daara in each village / town / community to prevent talibés being sent elsewhere (child trafficking)
    • Bring together small community daaras to form a large modern daara



      DAY 3: Here were the marabouts' recommendations for next steps:
      • Create of Daara Management Committees 
      • Merge small daaras together
      • Disseminate good examples of modern daaras (TV, radio, etc.) 
      • Consider and support community initiatives 
      • Need support for educational materials 
      • Need support for school meals
      • Raise awareness among all key actors
      • Honesty between key players 
      • Unity of hearts

        Hopefully we can help these communities achieve some of these actions. At least the first step was a success!








        Sunday, April 27, 2014

        Kickstarting Change for Child Rights

        Whether change comes with literal kick (think soccer) or metaphorical kick (think: bugging people until they pay attention), momentum is important. We have to keep things rolling. If we let the ball go, gravity will inevitably pull it to a stop.

        This is how we need to think about helping talibé, the Koranic "students" often forced to beg in the streets, and pushing modernization of their daaras (Koranic schools) in Senegal. We can’t slow down. Right now talibé and the exploitation they've faced by their marabouts (teachers) are hot topics in the media. But the minute media and public attention die down and these kids fall out of the spotlight, the minute we let things slide back into their normal routine as we wait for change to trickle from the top down – that’s when progress stagnates.

        The tradition of daara education in Senegal is deeply embedded, with strong religious and cultural roots. Parents are used to sending their kids away to live with and study under a marabout, who is automatically respected for his status as a religious leader. They are used to assuming the marabout will take care of the kids, with no need for oversight. Many people don’t want things to change, or can’t imagine how the system could run any other way. It’s difficult and sometimes intimidating to broach this subject with Senegalese people of this mindset. But the more we talk about change, the more people accept that it is happening.

        Every year since the first Human Rights Watch report on the abuses faced by talibé in Senegal came out in 2010 (the first kick), things have started moving, even if slowly. Organizations and NGOs have amped up the programs they offer for talibé. Plan International and Pour Une Enfance offer the boys classes in everything from French to math and computer use; Taliberté and other groups maintain talibé youth centers and safe houses.

        Activists like Issa Kouyate in St. Louis and others in Dakar have continued their work conducting night watches, rehabilitating runaway talibé, and supporting these at-risk youth. Coverage of their efforts increased with the 2012 documentary film, “Talibé: The Least Favored Children of Senegal” (second kick). In 2013, the horrible fire that killed 8 talibé trapped in their daara and the subsequent media attention and lobbying of national leaders kept the issue on the forefront (third kick), resulting in promises by President Macky Sall to end the practice of forced begging.

        A national child protection strategy then passed in December 2013, and a law was drafted that would regulate daaras and shut down the ones forcing talibé to beg. HRW just published a second report in March 2014, urging Senegal to make the draft law a reality and enforce existing legislation that protects these children (fourth kick).

        Recently, leading up to the International Day for Street Children on April 12, Peace Corps Volunteers and local partners organized the 4th Annual Talibé Soccer Tournament in St. Louis. Putting together such a big event was not a piece of cake, but it managed to bring together both talibé and non-talibé kids, mixing them in organized teams, to emphasize to the public that talibé deserve the same treatment and opportunities as anyone else. With every kick, they proved that to the audience. They even made the local news.

        Photo by Hattie Hill (St. Louis Talibé Soccer Tournament 2014)

        Momentum rolling.

        In a few months, another documentary on talibé, “Raŋ Raŋ” by PCV Andrew Oberstadt, will be released. Still moving.

        But then what?

        All I ask is that we don’t let things unintentionally skid to a stop. That we don’t let anyone forget.

        If you’re based in Senegal, here are some ways you can help:

        • Organize events and activities for talibé to keep them in the spotlight (talibé days, sports tournaments, etc.)
        • Get the community involved (conferences, events, medical support for talibé)
        • Start up conversations with Senegalese locals 

        If you’re based in Senegal or anywhere else in the world, here are other ways to help:

        • Provide an audience for the media content on talibé (reading and linking to the articles, watching the videos)
        • Write about the issue

        In my site of Kolda, a regional capital in southern Senegal, I’m attempting to organize a conference on daara modernization in partnership with several Koranic teachers (marabouts) and other leaders. We plan to invite all the local marabouts, which is in the range of 30-40 in the city of Kolda alone.

        Even as global attention begins to fade after the International Day for Street Children, let’s not let these kids be swept to the side of the streets again, invisible in plain sight. Keep the movement going!

        This article was originally posted on the Peace Corps SeneGAD blog at http://senegad.wordpress.com/2014/04/18/kickstarting-change/

        Saturday, November 9, 2013

        Senegal’s Child Beggars

        I believe in facing your fears.  As it turns out, my biggest challenge and personal fear in Senegal comes in a very small package: talibé, the children begging in the streets of Senegal's towns and cities.

        Thrusting their skinny hands in your face through the windows of cars, surrounding you in a mob of shrill voices shouting “toubab” and demanding money, or just tiredly muttering Quranic verses as they hold out their yellow bowls, these (often barefoot) children in tattered clothes flood the streets of nearly every major city in Senegal.

        As soon as they notice me and my white skin, which they equate with money, the kids rush over and glue themselves to my side like barnacles.  Ever since my first week in Senegal, they have by turns made me sad (who could do this to little kids?), driven me crazy with irritation (stop following me, just leave me alone), sparked me to anger (they need to get out of my face), made me nervous (am I going to look stupid if I don’t have a good Pulaar response?), and – a rising tide under it all – stirred deep feelings of guilt.

        Why guilt?  Because my first exposures to them, during my first few months in Senegal, elicited an instinctively adverse reaction.  I didn’t know how to handle these kids, so they became my nightmare.  If I saw a pack of them, I tried to avoid the group.  They were caked in dust and dirt, staring at me out of infected eyes, heads sometimes covered in sores.  Overwhelming, because I didn’t know what I could possibly do.  There are so many. 

        So I unconsciously started doing what many Senegalese do: tossing them a few smiles (or coins) and going about my day, forgetting.  Eventually, talibé become a predictable daily occurrence, almost like potholes in a road well traveled: you know they’re going to be there, you know you have to avoid them or navigate the bump, so you get it over with quickly and move on. 

        Many people here don’t give talibé a second thought, except to dismiss them as obligations (for the giving of alms) or irritations.  One documentary film has labeled them “the least favored children of Senegal.”

        There are an estimated half a million talibé in Senegal. Approximately 50,000 of those children are sent out begging or "subjected to conditions akin to slavery," according to Human Rights Watch.

        Students Who Beg

        The strange reality is: these kids are actually students.  In Senegal, children as young as five years old can be sent off by their families to become talibé, living and studying for as many as 11 years under a Quranic teacher (marabout) at his school (daara), often in conditions of extreme poverty. 

        Talibé spend their days memorizing the Quran and begging for alms in the streets.  In many cases, they receive no meals from the marabout, so they must go out begging up to three times a day if they want to eat.

        Talibé studying the Quran

        A talibé entering his room

        The ascetic nature of this type of education has traditionally been considered a way of teaching humility, as well as a rite of passage for boys into adulthood.  However, the system has become twisted in so many ways that it’s almost impossible to imagine how to begin untangling it.  Kids suffer and often their families never know. 

        Unfortunately, poor families often see daaras as an escape – a way to lift the burden of financial support by sending their child away for a good cause.  (Parents have told me, “If we can’t pay for his public school fees anyway, why not send him to get a free education? Anyway, it’s good to learn the Quran.”)  Many talibé end up living in cities far from their original villages or towns, and sometimes families lose touch with their child for years.  A number of talibé in Senegal actually come from neighboring countries such as Mali, Guinea or Guinea-Bissau.

        Human Rights Violations

        Over the past few years in Senegal, reports have emerged of some marabouts exploiting talibé to grow rich off their earnings, while the boys lived in slavery-like conditions.  Many are forced to beg and punished if they fail to bring in their daily quota of food or money to their Marabout.  Several have reported being chained or beaten as punishment. 

        In 2010, Human Rights Watch reported on the physical and sexual abuse some talibé experience, and seven Marabouts were arrested that year.  Anti-Slavery International wrote another report in 2011 highlighting the hardships these boys face and urging the Senegalese government to protect these children’s rights. 

        Legislation banning “forced child begging” was actually passed in 2005.  But the tradition of Quranic education runs deep in Senegal, and the influence of marabouts and Islamic leaders stretches far.  In the end, they found a loophole for the talibé system: “soliciting alms” is not “begging,” they said. And so it continues.

        (Please note that not all marabouts perpetuate harmful practices; many do care about their students and treat them well, but are simply stuck in poverty.)

        Check out this video by Human Rights Watch for more info on the daara system:
        https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=2&v=qIigeLgtves.

        Talibé In My Town

        For me, after moving to my permanent site (Kolda, a regional capital in south Senegal), the talibé issue suddenly became personal and immediate.  My service here in Senegal has been all about helping wherever I can, finding those small cracks I can fill, facing my fears and trying to overcome my flaws.  I realized that I might be uncomfortable with talibé (and the whole daara system itself), but that was no reason to push the issue aside.  There are enough people doing that.

        So I chose to confront my discomfort. 

        Since I was placed in a small city and not in a village, I interact with talibé every single day.  They seem to appear around every street corner!  After my first month living in Kolda, I started forcing myself to stop and talk to the talibé, even with my limited Pulaar.  Giving out money is a tricky issue, since you’re also perpetuating the system in a way (this article - "Keep the Change" - argues against giving).  But once in a while, just to make a kid happy, I’ll give some extra food or a piece of candy.  They have so few bright spots in their days.  And they really do walk around barefoot, on dirty streets sprinkled with animal manure and broken glass (to name a few things).

        Eventually, I started visiting daaras in Kolda with a Senegalese counterpart, introducing myself to the marabouts (which is still pretty intimidating) and researching how many talibé studied or lived there, the health conditions, their sleeping situations, etc.  So far, I have visited 18 daaras – and there are many left to visit.  Even the official local Inspector in charge of daaras and Arabic schools didn’t know how many existed in Kolda, and he’d never heard of several that I’d visited. 

        The conditions I’ve witnessed are pretty dismal: bare rooms where boys sleep on the concrete floor, maybe on a mat if they’re lucky.  Usually there are not enough mosquito nets for all the children, making them highly susceptible to malaria.  The boys wear the same clothes every day.  With a few exceptions, most daaras here in Kolda teach the boys only the Quran and nothing else – so they never learn how to read and write, and never learn French (unlike their peers in public schools).  This severely limits their opportunities for the future. 

        Marabout showing me where the talibés sleep

        Talibé asleep in the room he shares with many other boys

        Marabout laughing with his kids

        Older talibés in their room

        Group of talibés showing me their room

        My Projects

        Since no recent Peace Corps volunteer in Kolda that I know of has yet worked with talibé, I’ve decided to tackle what was originally a fear of mine and make talibé my primary focus for projects over the next two years.  After all, who cares if it makes me uncomfortable?  Here is a need, and I can address it, at least in some small ways.  So I’m going to try.

        Recently I was elected to the board of SeneGAD, our Gender and Development group in PC Senegal, as Talibé Coordinator – so there’s my start.  In addition to my personal projects, I will also be acting as a resource for other PCVs interested in working with talibé. 

        Here are some of the projects I plan to do in Kolda:

        • Verify that they get enough mosquito nets during the upcoming national distribution 
        • Health talks (causeries) on nutrition, malaria, hygiene and hand washing, diseases, etc.
        • “Men As Partners” event, which sends a male Senegalese representative from Peace Corps to talk to the boys about their future, sex ed and reproductive health, violence, etc.
        • Conference / event to advocate daara "modernization," as it is referred to in Senegal (improving conditions in daaras; teaching talibé a trade or sending them to French school, in addition to their Quranic studies) 
        • French / alphabetization / literacy lessons with the kids

        With the daara system so deeply entrenched in Senegalese society, I don’t know how long it will take for things to change in Senegal.  But I do know that I can try to help these boys that live in Kolda, even if it’s just to expand horizons a little or improve their health on a basic level.  I can try to help Habibu, that smart little talibé that hangs out downtown and knows me by name. 

        After all, these are human beings we’re talking about.  Senegal’s future.  What’s more important than that?  So stay tuned for future stories!  In the mean time…

        PLEASE DONATE:

        If you’re interested in helping me reach out to the talibé, please support the work I’m doing by clicking on the “DONATE” PayPal button at the top of this website.  I am collecting donations to purchase these simple items for my health causeries:

        • Bars of soap (25-50¢ per bar, depending on size) – Just $10 can buy 20-40 bars, enough for 1 daara! 
        • Hand washing stations – bucket and pouring kettle ($4-6)
        • Powder laundry soap (“Omo” – 10-50¢ per packet, depending on size)
        • Bleach (“Eau de Javel” – $1 per bottle)

        At this time, I only plan to distribute a few simple hygienic items to each daara, to go along with my health lessons.  This way I can help talibs practice what I teach, but will avoid creating dependency through large gifts.

        DAARA DRIVE:

        If you would like to support my work with talibé by donating items yourself, feel free to mail things like secondhand clothing, shoes (flip flops are great), light blankets or sheets, balls, marbles, simple games like checkers, etc.!  I am starting this drive now, but will not be distributing items until later in my service.  The idea is to establish a good relationship with the daaras first, conducting educational activities and events, so that handouts aren’t expected.  Ultimately, I will distribute the items to the daaras that I have formed the best relationships with. 

        Mail items to:
        PCV Lauren Seibert
        Corps de la Paix
        B.P. 26
        Kolda, Senegal



        Wednesday, August 14, 2013

        Tricky Conversations

        Today I return home and sweep into my family compound in a bicycle whirlwind of sand, just as the sun is setting.  I hop down, greeting each family member (the more dignified ones grasping my hand briefly, the younger ones cheekily dapping me up).  I run through the itinerary of where I’d been that day, what I’d done and who I’d seen (this is necessary whenever returning home), and scrabble through my mind for questions I can ask them in Pulaar. 

        The animals do something ridiculous that makes me giggle, like the baby goats hopping all over each other or the chickens stupidly perching on the satellite dish again, and my family giggles at me for the same reason.


        After washing off a little of the day’s dust, I sink into a plastic chair and listen to my host dad’s radio show for a while.  I write down a few of the Pulaar phrases I catch into my notebook.  After eating dinner (maafe gerte - rice and peanut sauce, my favorite) around 9 PM, I sit staring at the glowing embers as my uncle makes ataaya, trying to calm my mind.  Senegalese people do a lot of sitting, and that’s one of the things I’ve found the hardest about this culture, since I have eternal ants in my pants.

        I chat for a bit with my host mom, Mariama.  She catches me up on the latest developments: she’s started a boutique (small shop) in a section of our house, a very common thing here – practically every other house has a boutique.  They sell things like coffee, eggs, cooking oil, soap, butter, mayonnaise, phone credit, candies, baguettes – and if they happen to have a refrigerator (luxury!), maybe some sodas or kossam (sour milk).  I am excited because now I don’t have to run next door at some ungodly time in the morning to buy eggs for breakfast.

        She goes on to relate the latest misadventures of our resident grandmother, who is old and confused.  She has been known to wander out of the house and into neighbor’s houses, forgetting where she is.  Sometimes she imagines things, like the time she thought soldiers came into the house, and we have to sift out the truth from the tall tales.

        During the conversation lulls, I skim through a National Geographic article on the Aboriginal people of Australia.  I am mentally comparing their way of living to the things I see here, and some things are pretty similar: very basic housing, living day-to-day and consuming all food the day you make it, holding on to cultural traditions amidst the rising tide of modernity, multiple wives.  I exclaim aloud when I read that one woman’s father had eight wives.

        “That’s a lot of wives!” I say to Mariama.  “In Senegal people have up to four, right? Isn’t that the limit in the Koran?”

        Mariama laughs.  “My father had eleven wives.”  She grins as my jaw drops.  “He first had eight wives, and then his brother died, who had three wives.  So then they came to live with us, and he had eleven.”

        I close my mouth and process this for a moment.  I guess since she lives in the city now, I hadn’t associated my host mom with the extremes of village life.

        She continues, “You know, in the village, men don’t work like the women.  They just rely on their wives to bring in the money – to keep gardens, sell things.  They don’t do anything; they just sit.  That’s why they have so many wives.”

        Hmmm.

        As I write this blog post, I am seated cross-legged on my bed surrounded by moringa seeds.  (I’m counting them for tomorrow, when I plant them in our family garden – my first agriculture venture!)  Over my head, mice scurry busily on the tarp that protects my sleeping head from the showers of the rainy season, which tend to leak through the thatched roof.  Don’t worry, I’m not pulling a Cinderella… the only talking I do with these stupid mice is to yell at them in various languages.

        Outside, crickets chirp away, the cow moos itself to sleep, and the sheep bleet away their sorrows to the oblivious goats.  The chickens are blissfully quiet, but that only lasts until 5:00 AM.

        It’s time for bed, but my head is swirling.  I’m still thinking about what Mariama said, and also a conversation I had earlier today with another Senegalese friend.

        In that conversation, my friend told me he doesn’t believe Senegal (or Africa) “needs” gay rights.  He said that if the West can’t accept polygamy, then Africa shouldn’t have to accept the gay lifestyle.  (This was spurred from a discussion about President Obama’s recent visit to Senegal, and his clash with Senegalese President Macky Sall over gay rights.)

        My friend’s perspective was one I hadn’t heard before, though I already knew about Senegal’s strict stance against homosexuality (it’s treated as a crime here).  Since my friend cares deeply about his people and is probably one of the least judgmental Senegalese I know, his comment took me by surprise.

        Senegal is a country with a strong democratic track record, and good on them for that.  They’ve made many positive strides for health (such as the battle against HIV/AIDS) and human rights (such as the campaign against female genital cutting).  But every now and then, some cultural reality comes jarringly into focus and I realize what a long road it is to human equality and tolerance.

        Well, step by step we go.  Or as they say in Pulaar: “seeda seeda” (little by little).