The First Few Days:
Coumba Diouma, Senegal
May 19 – 25, 2010
I am not kidding when I say that all I did for the first week at my new home was crack peanuts. I cracked peanuts with my mom and grandmother, cracked peanuts with my neighbors, the women’s group two compounds down, with the school teachers, and with a group of men while drinking ataaya and talking about how hot the sun was that day. I have cracked and de-shelled over a baseball season’s worth of peanuts and have not eaten a single one of them.
In case you didn’t guess, it is peanut season right now in Kolda. Known as the peanut basin, peanut production accounts for about 40% of cultivated land in southern Senegal and is the main source of income and employment for rural farmers in the region. Peanuts are the main cash crop for farmers in the Casamance (the area of Senegal below the Gambia) and comprise around 60% of Senegal’s agricultural exports, 75% of which is in non-refined peanut oil. Yes, that was a mouthful. Having said that, we crack and de-shell a LOT of peanuts.
Early every morning, the women in the village walk to their peanut fields, pick peanuts from the plant and walk back home with a giant overflowing basket on their head. They dump the peanuts on a mat, usually in the center of the compound, and get to work cracking and de-shelling. Cracking peanuts here is an actual art form. They don’t crack them in their hands like we do at a ball game. Instead, they pop them on a wood block or the cement and they crack open easily if hit in the right spot. I haven’t mastered this quite yet but am getting closer. Every now and then I manage to make the same popping sound but it is rare. Something to look forward to over the next two years…
While cracking peanuts I did my best to chat in broken pullar to get to know people in my new home. I addressed the usual questions: where are you from, why are you here, and where is your man? I explained that I am from the US and that I am a Peace Corps volunteer and that I am here to help with environmental health education. Their response was “ah, just like Aminata?!” (the volunteer I replaced). And after a few bad jokes in terrible pullar people started warming up to me. I slowly started to talk about other topics outside of the weather, which is actually only consists of saying that the ‘sun is hot’, “nange no wuuli”.
I’m slowly meeting new people and my new neighbors and hopefully soon enough I will start to form real relationships with them. I have been playing with the kids and running every night with a large following. I feel like Forrest Gump a lot of the time. I’ll start out running by myself and slowly, kids will see me running, drop what they’re doing and chase after me. By the time I hit the road, I have about 20 little village kids in a clump panting and trotting about 20 yards behind me. It’s adorable.
Honestly, that’s about it. I’ve been trying to get some sleep these last few nights as I am still exhausted from PST and the emotions from moving in and starting my life in Coumba Diouma. While it may not sound like much of a way to begin work and life in my village, the important thing is that, so far, I am happy.
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