Oh right, work

HOW I feel about starting work here: scared

WHY: Because no matter how hard I look there are no actual guidelines on how to improve the health and sanitation of an entire village. I googled it and everything...

WHERE I will go if things go as well as I think they will: home. By Christmas.

WHEN: Holy moly, I guess when I get up the guts to have a set time for learning

WHO: Hopefully someone will come to something I do

WHAT? In a nutshell, I am at a crossroads. My job is shifting from "integrate" to "do something great." I would be shaking in my boots if I was wearing sturdy apparel such as that, instead of these flip flops. Wish me "Bon chance"- I need it.

(I just like this picture.)

What Toubab Means To Me

Webster tells me it's pretty straightforward: toubab means foreigner or white person

However, when kids say it in a loud (often incessant) voice, it means "I am annoying and want to disrespect you." (For children to address adults in public is seen as rude, so for me to acknowledge the shouts of toubab, even if I wanted to, would be allowing the kids to disrespect me. Big no no.)

If the person knows my name and chooses to say toubab instead- I don't know what it means, but it makes me feel weird. Like they are choosing to talk about the color of my skin instead of just calling me Fatty. (The latter being my nickname and way more funny and simply better). Short for Fatimata: my village name.

Generally, being referred to as toubab doesn't feel good. However, culturally speaking it isn't derogatory. Like so many other things in life here, I am unable to express my true feelings to my friends in the village, so they simply know that I "don't like" being called toubab. Oh well, I have two years to discuss this cultural term and perhaps my first project will be to wipe it out.

Thanksgiving "en brusse" (in the bush)

Being away from the following things has helped me be THANKful (just going with the theme of the day, kids) for...

access to a washing machine
a variety of meals every day
pop music
tables
seatbelts
libraries
gestures such as a thumbs up and the shoulder shrug- both don't translate
noises such as "blech" for "that's gross" or "aww" for "that's cute- nope, don't translate either
lightswitches

The picture is of my Thanksgiving celebration. I bought 1.5 kilos of goat meat for the host family, and then deep fried balls of dough for desert. These girls have some dough (pre-fried) on their hands and check out the chicken...Welcome to the holiday season in Mauritania.

Tricks of the Trade- Traveling

1. Grab a spot in the back of the pickup where you have ample leg room and something sturdy to hold on to. Just kidding- this is impossible. Just don't sit near the creepy guy.

2. Don't ever loosen your grip from whatever you have chosen as your seatbelt. Also, hang on to your hats- literally. I have lost 2 scarves to the dirt road thanks to an overhanging branch and a stiff breeze

3. Refrain from speaking too much Pulaar for the first chunk of the trip. Later, when you open your mouth and Pulaar comes out, the other passengers will realize you have been listening to them, and they will be thrown into a slight panic reviewing what they've been saying about the toubab for the past hour.

4. Thank allah for arriving in one piece. It really is a miracle every time it happens.

So You're Thinking About Visiting...

Here are some facts in attempt to persuade you otherwise. If they do not scare you, please please come to my country and see for yourself the wonders of the third world.

1. it is so hot. it is just so uncomfortably hot.
2. traveling is physically painful and dangerous. everyone is jostled around, hanging on literally for dear life, piled on top of each other in the backs of trucks.
3. you will get diarhea. whether due to stress or change in diet, i repeat, you will get diarhea. it took me two weeks to not have a stomachache every minute of the day.
4. there are no beds, chairs, couches etc. hanging out comfortably is pretty much unheard of
5. you will be called toubab, children will want to shake your hand, and you will feel like the eyes of the world are resting upon you. this is not very fun when you don't know how to eat, talk, sit, stand, or do anything, the way everyone else does

ok. in a nutshell, visiting my village in mauritania is a flat out adventure. this is camping in it's worst form. normally, one spends a camping trip relishing the idea of the hot shower and squishy bed at the end of a few days. in this case, that comfortable end is in the distant, distant future. this trip would be an adventure physically, emotionally and intellectually. if you do not feel very fit in these three areas, do not come to Mauritania- you would be miserable.

On the flip side, this place will change your life.

New Pictures

if you want to see me hanging out in my bathroom and with lots of little kids, go to:

http://www.laurajeannesmith.shutterfly.com

And read the two new posts...they are pretty lame, but I've been in the bush for 6 weeks and kind of forget what is funny and what is not.

It's Like Swimming

My first two months at site were like learning to swim.

At first... I was simply gasping for air. Focusing on basic survival like eating and sleeping. Dealing with constant attention was exhausting and thinking everyone was looking at me was actually reality.

Then...I was able to tread water. Everything was still difficult, having to grasp some inner strength to leave my room and speak spotty Pulaar. Going to the market zapped my energy and memorizing names was a task

Now...I still don't know hardly any names, and it doesn't help that everyone has the same name! They are just referred to as "Little Fatimata, Old Fatimata" etc. It doesn't take all my energy to visit friends anymore, and so I think I am able to touch my tip toes to the ground.

Later... hopefully I will be able to stand on solid enough ground that I will be able to really look around at who all I'm swimming with, and what are the problems with this pool? I'm still too self-absorbed with my attempts at integrating to really get into working, but I'm looking forward to trying to give something back to this community that has been so generous.

The Game of Ramadan

The Players: Anyone not too old, young, sick, or preggers

The Rules: Not allowed to swallow anything between sunrise and sunset

The Catch: It's hot here in Africa (didja know that?) and without water, your body doesn't produce sweat...this month is miserable!

Bonus Points: Even though I only fasted 2 days, people were very impressed with my willingness to suffer just the final weekend

The Losers: Me, because I would drink about a gallon of water at sunset, adding a new element to the stomachache I endured all day due to hunger/thirst. Everyone else just lost weight

The Winners: Allah, and all those able to worship through the heat and the pain and the general weakness.