Audrey II has evolved and spawned in Senegal... (and if you don't get the reference, then you probably don't watch enough musicals).

These last two weeks felt like a year. It's really hard to get projects started in village right now. When I arrived back at site after such a long time with only a short 4 day interlude for a funeral, I was surprised at how refreshing it was to be back and also how different the village seemed. Pular somehow seemed clearer and I felt like I was able to communicate more clearly, which is strange after barely speaking a word of it for almost a month! The day I returned, it turned out almost every one in my compound went to Neenefesha for some festival/dance show. Only my host dad was there so it was nice to have some quiet time to clean my room and get settled in, especially since there were two kittens that will now be joining me (at least temporarily). I was exhausted and I left my bike in Kedougou so I had to carry heavy buckets of water repeatedly because I had abslutely no water in my hut. After a nice bucket bath, I played with some of the kids who hadn't gone to the festival and my host dad caught me up on the events that I had missed. It turns out that while I was gone, including my counterpart's husband's death (which I knew about), both of my brother's wives left for Tamba while he is still in Matakosi. It turns out that during the dry season, as the cold leaves and as the “starving season” approaches, many Matakosians leave to find work in Tamba (usually as vendors of some product). I also learned that my male counterpart, in addition to being out of town, has a two week old baby and his wife and all the kids (including the newborn) were back in village. I asked one of his daughters when her dad would return and she didn't know.
Everyone who had gone to Neenefesha returned that night after I had already gone to bed and in the morning I reseeded my backyard plant nursery. In the afternoon I grabbed my notebook and waterbottle and set off on a nature walk through the woods to help me reacclimate to village life. About 10 kids started following me on my walk. They were eager to help and join me and one kid grabbed my notebook and another my waterbottle and we headed into the woods rather aimlessly. Every time I saw a tree or plant that I didn't recognize, the kids would tell me the Pular name of it and if it had any uses and I would write it down. We veered onto a side trail that I wasn't familiar with and we walked through a beautiful field that will in a few months become a rice field once the rains arrive. Soon we came to a dried up, seasonal river bed. We walked in the river bed and followed it for a while. The kids started scrounging around the ground for these dried up little red or yellow fruits that they call kuukuu. We all snacked on a bunch of them as we rested for a little bit before continuing on. It soon started to smell really bad so I was teasing the kids and telling them that they smell bad and should go shower (they were not as ammused by this as I was). Soon we found the culprit. Underneath another kuukuu tree further down the river bed was a dead monkey. It was very sad and morbidly fascinating. Eventually, as we continued on in silence until the riverbed met up with the trail again and we took the trail back to the village.
During another wonderful visit with my female counterpart (who I love and admire) a few days later, she told me that I could use her garden space by the river bed. I was excited to finally feel like I could do something. A group of 14 women have garden beds fenced in by the Thiokoy river about a mile away from Matakosi. These motivated, hardworking, women walk to the river to water twice a day, often with buckets of manure that they carry on their heads. Because the cows are hearded daily to the river to drink, the women frequently complain about cows who climb the very steep and very deep riverbanks, break the fences and demolish their gardens... some years multiple times a season. The cows here are like mountain goats! It is too late to try to establish a live fence barrier this year, but for now, the women have built menacing dead fences with thorny branches. My counterpart's garden had been completely destroyed by the cows right before her counterpart died and any surviving plants died in the subsequent weeks without having been watered. The other women who have been going to their gardens twice a day have huge plots with beautiful, giant heads of cabbage and lettuce, massive bitter tomato plants, and beautiful onions. I have ths opportunity to start a demo garden from scratch, which on the one hand is great because it means that I can set things up however I want, but on the other hand, I am behind and the hot season is coming up and the women will be ending their gardens in a month or two when they complete their harvesting. Many volunteers and Peace Corps staff have recommended demo gardens to demonstrate the benefits of the techniques that we are encouraged to teach. We would have a control plot, prepped the same way that the Senegalese traditionally would and then an experimental plot where we ammend one element. For my nursery, I decided that I would demonstrate double digging with manure and ash. Because I only planted my seeds about a week ago, my babies are just barely in the germination stages and so far it is hard to tell if there are noticable differences. Also, despite the menacing cliff that they have to climb up and the thorny fence that they have to some how penetrate, they still manage to get into my garden. Luckily, my seedlings are so small that the cows lost interest and left before any real damage was done... but it is also very likely that now, while I am here in Kedougou, the starving cows will return to ravage whatever little I have.
Meanwhile, throughout the last week, I did my best to help around the compound – cooking, cleaning, etc. as usual. One evening the kids asked if I would join them to go collect firewood. We walked a short way into the woods and the kids and I were gathering whatever dead pieces of wood were lying around. As I was gathering a few sticks together, I noticed a crazy, alien looking plant. It literally looks like it comes from outer space. At first I thought it was some strange type of mushroom but it hasn't rained in literally months and I realized that it was clearly photosynthetic. It has a strange bulbous head and dark purple leaves with white polka-dots all over it. I tried to pull it up from the roots but the thick green and white stem broke off. I tried again with another two and I couldn't get the root up. I gave up and decided that I would bring it back and ask my male counterpart who had FINALLY returned from wherever he had been. I showed it to him and he told me to throw it out and wash my hands with soap because it was toxic. A few hours later, the kids came rushing excitedly to my house with some strange thing in their hands. They had dug up a root for me to see it! The root looked like a really giant and really fat cross between a potato and turnip... just as strange as the rest of the plant.
We had scheduled a cleaning day at the regional house for today so that the house can be clean and organized when the new stage comes in for volunteer visit. The compound looks spectacular, btw! I was ready to go Friday morning. Since I didn't have my bike, I was planning to walk the 10 kilometers to Neenefesha and catch a ride with the Neenefesha bus to Kedougou. I watered my garden and prepared to leave but as I got back, there was all this commotion and and people had come into Matakosi from various towns around region. It turns out that Friday was the 40 day aniversary of the death of my host dad's brother and they slaughtered a sheep for his widdowed wife. I decided I would stay for lunch of oily rice and sheep and then a few women who had come in for “Tzadaka” (Hebrew speakers I'm sure recognize this word) were also heading to Kedougou to catch the Neenefesha bus so I would just go with them. The women who I went with all speak Pular but they are really Jahankes and their last name, I'm not even a little bit joking, is Dunfakha. The Jahankes will frequently greet people by just saying their last name so it's really funny hearing people greet eachother with, “Danfakah” and then reply, “Danfakah”. Before we left, the women bought honey that my host brother had collected from some wild bee hives in the forest. While this wild bee honey, is one of the most delicious foods I have eaten in Senegal, I feel it is morally and ecologically irrisponsible to destroy wild bee hives (especially since the bee population is on a very problematic decline) so I hope to introduce my village to bee keeping. This not only would create a reliable market, but it would also draw the bees away from the wells which would be such a relief! I have been stung multiple times simply trying to pull water.
Overall, things are looking up and moving in the right direction. Now back to house spring cleaning!!