Lost in transition...

Sadly there was no adventure to be found in Morocco since we weren't allowed to leave the airport...instead we sat on our keisters in the airport all day and tried to read up on any adventures we may find in Rome! As it turns out, we didn't have to look very hard as adventure was waiting for us on arrival at the airport. Seems Rome's airport baggage handling has made national news headlines. Yep...one week later, we're still missing 2 pieces of luggage. In a moment of brilliance, we decided to pack everything we could possibly need while in Europe in one piece of luggage...which of course never made it! It has meant repurchasing a few needed items (where's a Walmart when you need one) and lots of handwashing. Funny thing is that it'll look like we only spent a day in Rome and a day in Paris since we'll be wearing the same things. The other was gifts and a few of our more valuable items. Big big bummer! On the plus side, it's alot easier getting around with less luggage :)
Never-the-less, we've had a ball in Rome. The weather has been incredible - although we hear everyone complaining about how hot it is...they obviously haven't been to Africa! The city is clean and uncongested which has made getting around to see the sites a breeze! (I understand locals all leave the city in August for their summer holidays.) Most fun has been taking on the challenge of determining the tastiest flavour of Gelato...a burdensome task indeed but someone has to do it :)

• JP's favorite...stracciatella (boring!)
• My favorite...pistaccio!

Now, it's off to Paris in a couple of minutes... We're a touch worried we'll lose the last of our luggage but this time we at least have all of our remaining clothing (and toothbrushes) in our carry on!

On the move again...

Just saw Fanta off for the 2nd time! We're able to share a few 'firsts' with her during her stay in 'the big city' and had a ball doing it!

At the top of the list was having the pleasure of bringing her to her first amusement park! While she really enjoyed the ferris wheel and the kiddie roller coaster, I think the bumper cars were the biggest hit...especially after she realized she was supposed to hit the other cars!

Having rarely been a passenger in car let alone the driver,
I had to help copilot on occasion

She even chose to try the bungee/trampoline in harness (no idea what it's called)...in her pagne!

Other firsts included Mexican, Indian, Vietnamese and Italian cuisines. Wasn't sure if she was going to be able to handle a week without rice and fish but she was a great sport. The winner? A North American favorite...PIZZA! I couldn't believe she didn't like the strawberry milkshake we had with it though! But then I realized, she didn't even know what a strawberry was - maybe strawberries are an acquired taste?

What probably blew her mind the most? The world wide web!

Fanta Skyping her family back in Niaguis!

On one of our quieter mornings Fanta tried braiding my hair. During the 1/2 hr trial run, I heard many times how 'mes cheveux son pas bon' (my hair is not good) - because it was so 'slippery'. Eventually she refused to continue unless I promised to always wear a 'fullar' (fabric worn by married Senegalese women to cover their heads) on my head whenever I left the house...because my scalp was 'too white' and therefore unattractive...sniff.... I tried not to take it personal :)

Now, we pack. Somehow we've accumulated almost as much stuff to bring home as we brought here so it looks like we won't be travelling light through Europe! It's 7:30 pm here right now and JP tells me we leave for the airport at 3:30am! Just the thought of such an early start turns my stomach :) The itinerary as I understand it, is a 5 hour layover in Casablanca before continuing on to Rome...who knows what adventures await us in Morocco? We arrive in Rome at 8pm. Our travel plans as yet, are 'unplanned' so it will be as much as a surprise to all of you as it will be for us, but we'll try to update you sometime along the way - if for no other reason than to let you know we're alive and well :)

BTW- Got the call last night that our babies finally made it to Toronto in one piece. Apparently they're a little shell-shocked from the trip but otherwise unscathed!

Littlest globe trotters...

Today was a quieter day. After yesterday's rain, the streets are covered in mud so taking a walking tour of Dakar wasn't the least bit appealing. We did go out and about long enough to visit one of the larger markets in Dakar to find Fanta a pair of weatherproof shoes (aka flip flops). In Senegal, it's all about the sharp looking clothing so she arrived with only a pair of leather high healed shoes! Once in hand, we headed back to the house for an afternoon of 'cause'-ing (chatting) and kitten prep.

Yes our babies are on their way back to Canada...seemed a bit much to tour Europe with them in tow :) Guess they're going to be limited to having traveled to 'only' two continents!

Problem #1 - plastic cat carriers/dog crates are hard to come by in Dakar
Problem #2 - BIG plastic cat carriers/dog crates are impossible to come by in Dakar
Problem #3 - it's going take them 46 hours to get to memere's and pepere's!

We were able to buy a carrier from the Air France counter at the airport...but it was going to be a tight squeeze.

Trying to make their living quarters a little more spacious...


The dry run...it just might work...


Looking a little more intense...I think they know somethings up!


France cargo staff carrying my babies to the plane...

The next picture of course would be of me sobbing...but I'll save you the drama. We'll be counting down the hours to JP's parents call letting us know they've made it ok...

A long time coming...

Dakar saw their first rain today - much later than usual, which had the general population a little concerned and caused the generation and adoption of a number of theories as to why the rain had not yet come. We've been told the delay has been God's punishment for sins, or that President Wade had his religious people (Marabouts) run some climate interference so he can finish his many construction projects, but the winning reasons has got to be because women are starting to wear pants! Whatever the reason, it came and it came hard. The streets around the Mission office where we are staying were flooded with over a foot of water...a day after the very same streets were flooded with sewage!

Our weary traveler also arrived...24 hours after leaving Niaguis! She chose to take the cheapest but slowest form of transport here - a Ndiaga Ndiaye (a 32-seater Mercedes van named after the first person who introduced them to Senegal). Ndiaga Ndiayes are recognizable by their white colour, and the Alhamdoulilahi (Thanks to God) painted across the front. They also have no timetables, and usually set off when they're full, or when the driver feels like it. As Fanta will attest, they also take longer because they stop every few hundred metres to drop or collect passengers, and they have frequent tire punctures and engine failures. I think we'll help her take a more efficient way home!

You can see why flat tires are so common - fully loaded, they don't take corners very easily!

Big city living...

Ok...after a couple of tiresome weeks wrapping things up in Niaguis, and some teary goodbyes, we've finally made it to Dakar - but not before sharing my favorite dish (ceebu yap) for the last time with some friends at the clinic.

Serving up my favorite dish...

Actually we arrived in DakarThursday evening...to no electricity or water. Seems the big city has way more outages than Niaguis!

Plans this week include:

• Sleep, sleep and hopefully more sleep - I not only need to work off a huge sleep debt, but I'd like to bank a few hours for our trip to Europe!
  
• Updating the Mission on Dispensaire business
• Making the necessary arrangements for our minous to fly home and seeing them on their way...sniff
• Planning what we'd like to see/do in Europe
• Eating a tonne of veggies we weren't able to get in the Casamance
• Showing Fanta around Dakar - she's never left Niaguis/Ziguinchor so we've invited her to spend a couple of days with us
• Dining at least twice at what has to be the best Indian restaurant in all of Africa and
• Buying any last minute souvenirs for friends and family

Should be a good week...

Us with a few friends on our last day at the clinic...

The Beginning of the End

Yes, you heard right. In just a few short weeks we'll be back on Canadian soil! Why? Many reasons, but we're very happy to report that a Senegalais in his last year of medicine will be taking our place in the interim, while the Mission arranges for a permanent nurse. Even better, is that he has served at the Dispensaire in the past and is familiar with the work and the staff!

The plans for our departure have been in the making for some time now, with the details just recently being finalized. So JP and I have been very busy getting the place ready for 'take over' and it's been exciting seeing the fruits of our labour unfold. We've now got a few SOPs and flowcharts to guide the work that's done here; roles and responsibilities of staff are a bit more clearly defined; medication inventory is more complete; and a whack of maintenance has been done inside and out.

Still more to do, though, so we can expect long days at the clinic this coming week to tidy things up before our last day at the clinic - July 25th!¨(OK, that's only 2 days away now, but we've been without internet at home since last week; when we drafted this posting!) Our plans so far are to travel to Dakar on the 26th, and then fly out of Dakar on August 6th... via Italy and France! The Mission kindly agreed to send us home the 'not so direct' route, so we'll be spending about 12 days in Europe, unwinding, before heading to Toronto on August 17th - which coincidentally is our 4th wedding anniversary!

As for the minous, we're sending them ahead on Air France for a little holiday of their own in Southern Ontario. Memere and Pepere (JP's parents) have generously agreed to receive them at the Toronto airport and 'put up with them' for two weeks until our return.

Then it's back to our former life, nestled among family and friends, facing the realities of finding a car, a place to live, and going back to work (JP at least...)

We hope to post a few more entries over the remainder of our time here and maybe continue a few retrospective postings here and there as we travel home. We've truly appreciated all of the feedback and comments and emails we've recieved from so many people during our time here. Our blog has often given us the feeling that so many people were participating with us in this experience! Can't wait to get home and fill you all in on the details we couldn't fit into decent length blog entries!

By the way, if anyone out there thinks they'd like to come take their turn here for a year or more, Luc, the Mission President, is taking names! ; ) (mission@adventistesenegal.org)

Now where's that Canada place again?

After Life...

In Islam, the dead are buried the same day, so Mamadou was almost immediately whisked away and prepared for burial. To prepare for burial, the deceased is ceremonially bathed and wrapped in cloth, prayers are offered for the forgiveness of their sins and then they are carried by men to the grave site for burial. Only men are permitted to be present at the burial while the women await their return at the deceased's home. Upon return, everyone present - family, friends, acquaintances, passers by - will again offer ceremonial prayers for the forgiveness of sins. But the story doen't end there.

Muslims believe in a spirit life after death and therefore participate in certain ritualistic activities on the 3rd, 8th and 40th day after a persons death. Because these ceremonies are not based on Koranic teaching, exactly what happens at these ceremonies and the reason they hold them can differ among ethnic groups (and probably even within each of the various groups). From what I understand, prayers are offered on the 3rd day again for the forgiveness of sins since that is the day the deceased will be judged according to their works. Prayers on the 8th and 40th day have more to do with the body's 'believed' stages of decomposition.

One thing that does seem consistent among each of the ethnic groups is the giving of 'charity' (cookies, pop) to male guests. The treats are purchased by the family with the help of gift offerings from villagers.

JP blending with the crowd at the Imam's mother's 40th day get together

Some time ago, JP and I went to the 40th day get together for the Imam's mother who passed away (if you remember, she was the first patient of mine who passed away). Everyone was tickled that we showed and they made a point of stuffing JP's pockets with cookies and pop.

The women aren't recipients of the googies and always sit separate from the men...

His name was Mamadou Badji…

While getting ready for church this morning, we received the usual knock at the door to let us know that there was a sick child at the dispensaire. But today was different…today the messenger seemed to think the child was ‘very sick’. They were right. I arrived at the dispensaire to find a comatose child of only 5 or 6 years of age without a heart beat. His skin was fire hot. The parents informed me the fever had started during the night but that he became ‘lifeless’ only this morning. I quickly put him on the floor and kneeling beside him (in prayer) tried to resuscitate him. Hope kindled for a brief moment as I heard his little heart beat life once more but the hope was short lived as it quickly stopped again. Ten minutes later I stopped too. Cause of death? All signs suggested he had cerebral malaria.
And so the season begins...

PAAALM-BERRRR!

Some of you who read our last posting may be wondering about the type of wood used for the roofing beams of the house shown in the pictures. Some of you may not care. But for those who do, the beams were made of Ronier palms (the leaves used for roof covering were also from the Ronier palm). It’s an interesting type of wood – basically a bunch of ~2-3mm thick by ~10 to 20cm long woody fibres coated and bound together by an almost powdery but incredibly adhesive substance. As I first examined the wood, I couldn’t help but wonder whether anyone had ever tried to extract this binding material to make superglue. Or maybe that’s where superglue comes from and I’m just ignorant?

So why use Ronier Palm? A few reasons, really. For one, there aren’t that many types of wood to choose from and most trees around here give some kind of succulent fruit that discourages cutting them down. For another, it’s strong, straight and long, making it easy to cut the 5m lengths used to frame most roofs. But most importantly, the over-abundant here termites won’t eat it. I had the opportunity to go about 1km into the bush with a friend from Church, “Malan”, to watch and help him split a couple of already-felled palms into the necessary beams for a roof frame.

We arrived around 9am where Malan's palms (trees) were already split into four quarters, lying side by each on the ground. He immediately started whacking lengthwise lines on the bark side as the first step. His accuracy tracing such lines with full-force blows of his machete was amazing! Two of the quarters were split in half, while the other two, slightly larger, were split into 3 pieces each, giving 10 beams per tree. Next step was to retrace these lines using his wooden axe. Again, I couldn’t believe how infrequently he missed the line by even as much as a centimetre!

Using an axe that anthropologists would assign to australopithecus man, Malan deepens his machete trace on one quarter of the Ronier trunk.

Next, we used a 10kg (~20lb) hardwood sledge to drive two metal wedges into the first of the traces. As the tree cracked and creaked open along the lines, we drove wooden wedges in beside the metal ones, so we could pull these out and move them further up the trunk. We did this about 5 times per length, with Malan cutting deeper through the fibrous wood with his machete each time the split got wider. After working our way up the trunk, and then back down again, the beam was pretty much split off and we started the next one.

This time, using a tool worthy of the Flintstones, or perhaps a heavy duty whack-a-mole game, Malan capably beats the metal spikes into the fibrous wood.

Cutting open the wedged crack with a machete. The wood really creaks as it opens, which Malan kiddingly says is the wood crying (ca pleure!) 'cause it knows it's time is up : )

For all the cro-magnon appearance of the tools, they were surprisingly effective! Takes a fair amount of skill and strength, for sure, but an elegantly simple process nonetheless. All told, making the 20 beams took us about 3 hours. I think my help actually slowed him down! Besides, after the first two beams, I had three blisters on my right hand and had to take it down a notch. Guess splitting beams isn’t a desk job : ) [Malan later came to house to start learning how to play the guitar. I regained a bit of my honour when the fingertips on his work worn hands were sore from pressing the metal strings for a few minutes, while my calloused tips felt no pain].

Once the beams were finished, we hid the axe and metal spikes (hardest to replace beacause of the metal) and walked home. Now the carpenter would pay Malan, come to get the beams, and then tie and nail them into place over the mud-brick structure. A bit of tin or thatch later, and voila, ready for the housewarming!

The finished product, ready to be hauled out of the bush and installed!

A new home for the Kandes...

We live in a pretty comfortable, solidly built home here. Louvre glass windows with screens all around, lockable metal door and corrugated cement panel roofing. Our four mission houses and dispensaire are easily four of the best constructed buildings in Niaguis. But as you can imagine, they were relatively expensive to build and definitely out of reach for locals’ home construction. Most of the homes around us are made from mud or mud-bricks, with thatched or corrugated tin roofs (mud with thatched roofing being of course the most affordable).

Fanta’s family recently added a second home to their small plot of land - not because they had the money to spare, but because her dad’s two wives weren’t getting along so well and each wanted their own home. One of the many perils of polygamy! Their choice was a mud home with a tin roof and we watched with fascination as their builder dug clay/dirt out of a hole next to the house, mixed it with water, and then slapped it into place with his hands to form ever-growing walls of the house. It took a little over a month and the walls (which were straight as an arrow) were up to their final height of about 3 metres (~9 feet), and about 30cm thick.

A look inside the Kande family's new home. The door to Fanta's room (which is also where her son and 'daughter' will be sleeping) is to the right of the ladder.

Nice thing about this type of construction is that there is essentially no finishing work. No plumbing (a woven bamboo enclosure outside serves for toiletries; cooking is open air), no electrical, no drywall, no painting, no flooring, etc. Besides simple doors and windows (boards or branches for a frame, covered with corrugated tin) all that remained now was the tin roof – the most costly part of the project. For a house the size of the Kandes (maybe 40ft long by 30 ft wide), it took about 115 pieces of tin (3ft x 6ft). At about $5Cdn each, this added up to almost $600Cdn – a monumental sum given that the family survives off of Fanta’s cleaning salary and picking and selling cashew nuts to Indian entrepreneurs for 20 cents Cdn per kilo! And that doesn’t include the cost of the roof frame (whose origin is an interesting story in and of itself and will be blogged about another time) or the cost of labour.

In Africa, the principal reason for having a large family is so that you will have more people to care for you as you grow older. Unfortunately, the Kande family is still fairly young with only Fanta and 2 brothers in the workforce -one who recently got in a car accident that took him out of the workforce, and the other still waiting to be paid for 3 months work (also very common here in Africa). So the problem now was a lack of funds to complete the project and the family watched anxiously as their newly constructed home began to slowly wash away with the rain!

Many hands make light work. Younger men were busy cutting palm branches in the bush while the middle aged men assembled the roof. The older men of course sat and supervised while the women worked to prepare lunch for at least 40 people.

But, not all was lost. The Imam (teacher at the mosque) rallied some men to gather palm leaves and erect a temporary roof until the family can save the necessary money to cover the cost of the tin! JP and I went over to ‘help’ too – as much as they would allow a ‘toubab’ to do anyway. As much as mud homes may sound unappealing to we North Americans (especially given that we endure winters), there are some advantages. For instance, dirt floors, dirt walls and no windows, make for minimal housekeeping! Of course, any time saved here is likely lost pounding millet/rice and gathering wood for the cooking fire!

Passing up the 'all natural' shingles...palm leaves. You have to be careful when handling them because they cut like a knife. The best palm roofs are made with dry palm leaves (to absorb the rain)
piled at least a foot deep.

Three thousand, one hundred and four hours and counting...

Yesterday marked our 4 month anniversary here in Senegal. Looking back, here's what I've liked the most and the least...

The top 10 things I love about life in Niaguis/Senegal:

1. Sunshine every day!
2. The slow pace of life – you don’t race the clock here
3. The extra time I get to spend with JP – working together hasn’t been that bad!
4. Fatu and Fanta – my 2 favorite kids in all of Niaguis…they’re BAD but boy are they cute!
5. Schwep’s Tonic Water – why didn’t anyone ever tell me about this drink in Canada?
6. Fanta Kande’s frozen drinks (she’s very entrepreneurial!)
7. Ceebu Yap – love it!…don’t care so much for the weight I’ve gained from it though…oops
8. The help around the house (what a treat!)
9. A personal tailor a couple hundred yards from my house that makes me properly fitting clothes for cheap…no more painful clothes shopping!
10. The snakes that I don’t see!

Fanta and Fatu - 2 of the most popular girls names in Niaguis

The top 10 things I find challenging about life in Niaguis/Senegal:

1. My overextended role at the clinic – I’ve spent many sleepless hours thinking/worrying about patients I’ve treated!
2. No place to escape the heat – being constantly soaked in sweat and dirt is less than appealing
3. No reliable vehicle making exploring the area very difficult
4. No safe place to swim…What?…It’s summer!
5. The shopping! – Fighting off vendors of items I don’t want, searching endlessly for those things that I do need and negotiating prices can be exhausting!
6. Cooking with only a burner…sure miss having an oven!
7. The many things that creep/crawl/slither/climb
8. Dial-up!
9. The distance from family and friends
10. The snakes that I will see!

Chameleon outside our front gate this morning...although some might class him in the category of those things that "creep/crawl/slither/climb" they are quite cute!

Busy morning, late meeting and unexpected exercise...

It was me and our cleaning lady N’Deye Sane yesterday - she busy at her cleaning and I trying desperately to keep up running between my consultation room, pharmacy and ‘pansement’ room (where I administer first aid…abces lancing, dressing changes, removals of foreign objects from orifices, eye washes, etc. ). JP had to be in Ziguinchor for business as he had the recent very necessary, yet never pleasant, experience of having to let Adama, our ‘midwife’, go and the two had to meet with local authorities to complete the necessary paperwork. Amadou, our pharmacist/cashier has been off sick (and will be for the rest of the month) and my ‘nurses aid’, N’Deye Diandy, was late as usual (not usually seen before 10am).

Since JP has been covering for Amadou, I had the added responsibility of selling consultation tickets, medications, and issuing receipts. Without N’Deye Diandy, I also had the responsibility of doing family planning consultations, administering depo injections (the contraceptive method used almost exclusively here in Niaguis) and looking for volunteers amongst the patients to help with translation.

Not sure her name but she was cracking my up!

But, 5 hours later, by the grace of God, I had finished my last consultation for the morning (and lost 5 pounds in sweat!), and had just enough time to close up shop, and run home to drop off my ‘stuff’, before being whisked off by our friend Omar to meet up with JP for a late lunch in Ziguinchor.

After briefing each other on the mornings activities, I was then off to a “Reunion de Coordination” at one of the hospitals. These monthly meetings are held for the purpose of coordinating health service delivery in the districts so those in attendance are either “Chefs de Poste” (nurses representing each Dispensaire) or local health authorities responsible for directing and overseeing those services. I had learned only the day before that a meeting was being held, and was obliged to attend since Adama had been the person representing our Dispensaire until now.

Truthfully, I expected a meeting starting at 4pm on a Friday night (a Muslim holy day, and a Christian’s start to their weekend) that the meeting wouldn’t go much longer than 5pm. I was wrong. The meeting went until 7:30pm! - plenty long enough for me to learn how poorly our little Dispensaire was doing in meeting the expectations of the local medical authorities (many things we should have been doing and weren’t and others that just weren’t being done well), and to plan how we could rectify those things!

Path by our house leading to the river...soon the area will be flooded
and families will be out en masse cultivating rice

Upon arriving back home, I realized I had left my bag in the meeting room…yes the one with my money and keys…and had to make the embarrassing call to the “Medecin Chef du District” (head honcho Doctor) to beg him to return to the hospital to help me retrieve my bag. I think my pitiful plea (I didn’t want to sleep outside) broke him down and he begrudgingly agreed. So off we go back to Zinguinchor yet again, but this time with a couple friends opting to come along for the ride.

And are we ever glad they did! Sadly…our ‘not-so-trusted’ vehicle quit on us about 3 km from home (problems with the alternator). After MANY attempts to push start the car, we gave up and pushed our 1500Kg pile of loosely associated metal and plastic pieces home! By the time we got home (11:30pm) I was soaked in sweat (despite a beautiful breeze), my legs were shaking and my back was sore from being bent over. Despite it all, we had a great time ‘laboring’ with our friends under the stars which were out in all of their glory!

And what about prenatal visits and deliveries now that our midwife is gone? I’m hoping for a real dry spell…

Not so fairy tale...

JP and I attended a friend’s cousin’s wedding some time ago in Ziguinchor...sorry you had to wait so long mom! While some similarities can be seen, there were a few noteworthy differences…

1. Wedding Attire

In preparation for the wedding, I was told ALL women (without exception) would be wearing an outfit made with the very same fabric. Each wedding has several ‘hostesses’ – who chooses them and exactly what their role is remains a mystery to me but one of their responsibilities is to choose the said fabric. Their choice? Yellow eyelet and black mouslin - supposedly both very chic fabrics special ordered from Dakar! Each guest was responsible for purchasing the fabric at the market and bringing it to a tailor of their choosing. While it wouldn’t have been my first choice of colours, or fabrics, I thought I would make the most of the situation and have my tailor create something genius with it. Sadly, my plans came to a screeching halt when I was told that not only was the fabric to be the same, but the style as well! Their choice? Yellow eyelet ‘pagne’ (wrap around skirt) and black mouslin ‘blouse’ – the hostesses even chose the finer details of lace and trim and where it should be used, leaving no room for variation! With one exception…Senegalese women consider it very appropriate to wear very sheer clothing without any underclothes because of their dark skin…seeing as how I am not so dark, I opted to have my tailor make me a black satin halter to wear underneath the blouse.

Like weddings back home, the men here are free to pick from their own wardrobe - JP was to wear his traditional Senegalese ‘boubou’ but needed to buy the traditional white leather pointed slipper/shoes…no sandals allowed!

JP and I in our Senegalese finest! While I don’t know that we will ever have occasion to wear these outfits again in Canada, they sure were a big hit here! Everyone, both young and old, complimented us on how ‘jolie’ we looked!

2. Wedding gift

Every guest buys the couple a plate or glass…any plate or glass (no wedding registries here)! How many mix-matched dishes can a new couple use??

3. The ceremony

When we arrived, we were told that the men had already gone to the mosque to marry the young couple. Apparently no women, including the bride, are to be present…in this case, neither was the groom - he was in Dakar working but was expected to be back that evening! The ceremony consisted of the father informing the Imam (the leader/teacher of the mosque) that his daughter is to be married to the young man and presenting the Imam with 5 kola nuts to symbolically 'tie-the-knot'...that’s it. Interestingly, we learned later, that Muslim weddings are not registered with the country because it made it more difficult to divorce! Talk about dispensing with formalities!


4. Bride dress

She arrived fashionably late and looked stunning…in orange! A lot of energy went into the hair and makeup! She then changed into an equally stunning pink ensemble and after sharing a meal of “Ceebu Yap” (traditional celebratory dish of rice and beef…served from communal platters) she disappeared for several hours and returned later in the evening (now dressed in white) accompanied by 6 bridemaids and…the groom?

Turns out it was the grooms brother. The groom never joined his bride until a week later!

Here’s hoping they at least share the ‘happily ever after’.

She's back...

Yes Mariama is back and we’re having a ball!

After one week with the Kande household, Mariama ended up homeless yet again and back on our doorstep…skinnier and dirtier than ever! Turns out Fanta’s bratty teenage sister didn’t like Mariama and refused to let her stay at the house any longer…despite the rest of the family’s protests. Unfortunately, Annie and Samson didn’t want her at our house either. So we decided to make her the “Dispensaire kitty”.

Still very tiny (she hadn’t been fed adequately while away – our fault entirely for not having explained things better) we were concerned about leaving her alone at the Dispensaire during the night and enlisted the help Souleymane - the dispensaire’s night guard. A decision for which I’m sure Mariama would express her gratitude, could she speak. Souleymane was tickled to have been asked to help care for the little one and his compassionate soul insists she have a steady diet of freshly grilled fish in order to grow.

The result? One very chubby, spoiled kitty who refuses to eat anything but fish but who has also adjusted beautifully to life at the Dispensaire and is loving it!

"yes, yes I see...and when exactly did these problems start?"

It has been an interesting social experiment watching her win the hearts of people who typically don’t take the time to notice animals…maybe even helping the next generation to be a little more kind to God’s creatures.

But it’s not all play…Mariama has been receiving intensive training to become a great little hunter and guard kitty and JP (her trainer…since she was separated from her rightful trainer while still very tiny) tells me she’s doing nicely. I’m told the mice, bugs and geckos soon won’t stand a chance!

9 to 5... and then some...

We’ve often been asked “what do you do all day?” Here's the general gist…

5 to 6 am – wakened by one of several causes:

1. Arabic prayers blasting over loudspeakers from one of the two mosques that are located on each side of us (happens 5 times a day)
   
2. “The Boy” meowing pitifully because he’s bored and his sister wont play his rough-house games, or he wants to go outside
3. Restlessness apparently brought on in part by the anti-malarial medication (not to mention the vivid dreams it causes), and eating so late
4. Our night guard snoring :)
   

Samson high in our mango tree...with a playground like this, I'd be bored in the house too!

~6am – JP gives up on the possibility of sleeping any longer and gets out of bed to read. Tammy can’t sleep either but refuses to get out of bed…hoping/wishing/praying she’ll fall back asleep.

~7am – JP makes muesli with fresh fruit and brings it to the bedroom to share with Tammy (which is more the reason she stays in bed).

~7:30 – 8:30am – Dress, brush teeth,check email, change dirt in litter box, feed cats, gather our stuff, and head to work. About 150m away. Sweet.

9am to ~1:30pm – At least 90 percent of our patients visit the Dispensaire in the morning, so we usually know by the lineup (or absence thereof) when we arrive whether or not its going to be a busy day. A high number of people would be 15 or 20 consultations or bandages in a day, not including pre-natal consults, contraceptive consultations, vaccinations and deliveries. All told, we could see 30 + people on a busy day. A slow day would be maybe 5 people or less for the entire day, for all services. There are probably an even number of slow and busy days.

1:30-3pm – Lunch and rest break. Tammy usually makes rice and a Senegalese sauce like “Yassa” or “Maffe”, or just a sauce of whatever’s left in the fridge. Sometimes we’ll have cucumber and tomato sandwiches on locally baked bread, or leaf lettuce salad with corn chips and beans mixed in. The long rest means we get to relax a little bit over lunch as well, which is nice.

3-5pm – Return to work for the ‘home stretch’. There are usually no patient visits during this time (even 12-1pm is pretty dead), so we usually end up reading something or working on little projects around the Dispensaire, like organizing a cupboard or digging through archived documents. We also often wander out the back door into the garden to pick a few mangoes to eat on the spot, and to take home for supper and next morning’s breakfast. At 5, we lock the Dispensaire and head home.

5-7pm - We prepare something light for supper, like crackers or a piece of bread and fruit or nuts. We often eat in the backyard which is now closed in as a play-pen for the cats. Although we eat lunch on Senegal time, we find it hard to eat supper as late as the Senegalese (8-10pm), so we try to sneak in a small meal a bit earlier. We usually get visitors at this time, since they aren’t going to be eating supper for a while, and have sometimes been waiting all day for us to get home after 5pm.

Our little escape artist sharpening her 'tools' for the next window screen she plans on ripping open to escape (4 holes and counting)...we're still looking for rubber kitty booties on ebay!

Our night guard arrives at 7pm. It gets dark around 8pm.

7-9pm – Visitors continue to stop by and sometimes our neighbors come over and sit outside our door to braid each other’s hair by the outdoor light. Between visitors, we try to do a little bit of emailing and maybe Skype chats with family and friends. If we’re lucky, this is also when the after-hours patients show up at our door looking for treatment or medication.

Hanging out with my good friend Mamadou...

9-10pm – We get cleaned up. Since a couple of days after our “Water we gonna do!” posting, we’ve had running water - no bucket showers since then! After showering the day’s sweat and dirt off (it’s amazing how truly dirty sandalled feet get in dry, dusty places like this!), we retire to our bedroom and chat about the day and read together. Right now, we’re reading Scott Peck’s A Road Less Travelled. Then, we drift off into dream land, ready to start all over the next day…or to answer the late night raps at our bedroom window which are inevitably followed by the too familiar words “il y a un malade au Dispensaire!”

The best laid plans...

Like I said…travel with the Duchesne’s is never uneventful!

After many late nights working the clinic and the need to both renew our visitor’s visa and celebrate my birthday…a trip to Gambia was exactly what we needed.

Gambia is the tiniest nation in all of Africa and other than it’s Atlantic coastline to the west, it is wholly enclosed by Senegal. Since Gambia is a former British colony, English is spoken by most and our trip there afforded us an opportunity to ‘brush up’ on our English :)

4 hours, 2 ‘sept-places’ (7 passenger station wagons), and 2 taxis later (all in a North-Westerly direction), we arrived at the quiet beach town of Fajara on the west coast of Gambia.

The ride there was hot and a little uncomfortable but not nearly as uncomfortable as after I took a spill returning to the car from one of our many military checkpoints. In my clumsiness, I fell and sprained my right hand…pretty badly. One week later the swelling has gone down and I can now pull up my own pants (yipee) but I still can’t bare any weight in that hand…I’m enjoying being catered to though while it lasts! :)

In choosing our holiday destination, we had 2 very important criteria:
#1 – a quiet place with nice accommodations…we weren’t going to chintz this time
#2 – a lot of good restaurants to choose from…it was going to be all about the food!

With the promise of beautiful beaches, a quiet garden hotel with a classy ‘near vegetarian’ restaurant, a nearby Morrocan restaurant boasting a celebrated chef and a mean Sunday brunch, a restaurant offering a dinner buffet of Gambian fare (always fun to try new things), and a chic Indian restaurant (my favorite), Fajara seemed like the perfect pick. The clincher though was the nearby “Palais de Chocolat” ('Chocolate Palace'…need I say more?)…now we knew Fajara was the perfect place to spend a couple days.

Turns out we had to move hotels because we were kept up all night in our quiet garden hotel by bed bugs; the Sunday brunch consisted of a few cold leftovers from the day(s) before (apparently a reflection of being the end of tourist season); the Gambian buffet no longer served a buffet (also because end of season); the Indian restaurant was delicious but very expensive and we were too embarrassed to go back after not having brought enough money to pay our bill (the mandated 25% gratuity/tax…oops); and the Palais de Chocolat didn’t have anything chocolate!

Bottom line is our plan for weekend indulgence was a bust. But not all was lost…we moved to a great little place on the beach (at 2/3 the price of the Garden Hotel…go figure) where we enjoyed endless hours of strolling the beach, chatting, reading and snuggling in perfect solitude…heavenly!

We also walked to Kachikaly Crocodile Pool in Bakau village – a sacred site for locals. Apparently, crocodiles represent the power of fertility so many ‘infertile’ Gambians go there to pray and bathe in the crocodile’s water…

JP taming the crocodiles...

With some 80 adult crocs and countless little ones, this is the last water I would want to bathe in!

A 'taste' of village medicine

JP – “What?!? Forget it!”
Tammy - “What do you mean you won’t taste his pee?”

It’s no secret I’ve often been frustrated with our lack of diagnostic services at the clinic. Tests as basic as blood sugar would often be very helpful in properly diagnosing and treating my patients. After one patient I saw for a large slow healing ulcer to his ankle (see below) refused to see a doctor in Ziguinchor for some testing (because it cost too much), I was left searching for alternatives.

David Werner in his sometimes-overly-practical guide book “Where There Is No Doctor” suggests that “one way to test the urine is to taste it.” So I took it to ‘my boss’ who has expressed great interest in beefing up our lab services…but he wasn’t interested. Probably just as well…David also says that “If it tastes sweet to you, have 2 other persons taste it. Have them also taste the urine of 3 other people. If everyone agrees that the same person’s urine is sweeter, he is probably diabetic.” Looks like I would have been on the hook too!

No Hollywood make-up here...he's been dealing with this kind of 'sore' for years!

Other side of the same foot!

David mentions in the following paragraph that “another way of testing urine is to use special paper strips”. Why wouldn’t he have started with that option??

$4000?!?

Many things in Senegal are a few years behind North America. One such ‘thing’ is the average age of the vehicles on the road. The most beaten up, run down, falling apart hunks of metal are serving as taxis and transport vehicles all over the place, both here in the poorer Casamance, as well as in Dakar. As long as there’s a shred of mechanical or structural integrity left in a vehicle, it’s driven. When a vehicle gets abandoned, you’d better believe it was impossible to keep it running for even an hour longer. By North American standards, I'd estimate that at the very least, half of the vehicles driving here would get pulled over and taken off the road back in Canada. At least. Could be much higher if you consider the emissions testing program in the larger centres.

Nestled into its favourite resting spot, the Dispensaire 'steed' contentedly awaits its next call to service...

The Dispensaire vehicle is a Renault Type 18 diesel wagon from the late 80s. It had 64,000+ km on it when the speedometer/odometer stopped working (or was disconnected?) Though we’ve been using it almost daily from the start, we’ve poured in a fair bit of work to improve its condition. If we were in Canada, I’d also say we’d poured in a fair bit of money, but all told, I think the repairs we’ve done, parts and labour, have cost somewhere on the order of $200 to $300. Included are 9 or 10 brake repairs (the hand brake is thankfully quite reliable!), changing all 4 tires (to decent, used tires with tubes), repairs to many lights and other wiring problems, adding side mirrors which were missing, etc. The vehicle is banged up a bit and has many ‘quirks’ that older vehicles tend to get when not well-maintained. For instance, the rear-right door opens from the inside but not the outside. The rear left door didn’t open at all until just recently. It can now be opened from the outside, but not the inside, and even opening it from the outside requires a bit of training and experience! The hatch cylinders do not support it in the upright position (and it’s heavy!). There’s no radio and we took off the antenna since it was flopping around in its bracket, apparently no longer affixable to the vehicle. There are headlights, but the highbeams don’t function. Which is fine because most vehicle that go by us anywhere near dark flash their lights at us as though our lights are blinding them… we’ll be adjusting them soon.

A rare glimpse inside the cockpit of our T-18

For all of their faults, cars are like gold here. Our car, as is, would fetch as much as $4000 (Cdn) here... that's about 2million CFA!... anybody wanna buy a Renault?

Evil Incarnate

We had a rainy-season precursory visit the other day… while sitting in our backyard, a snake popped up onto the cement portion of our wall. We didn’t see it, but Samson did. As he shot over to the wall, I looked up to see it there – about 3 feet long, very slender and bright green. "The Boy" (Samson) whacked at it a couple of times as I shouted “No!” to get him away from it in case it was poisonous. But the snake realized it wasn’t interested in eating us (Tammy’s sure that’s what it was coming to do : ), and left quickly. Apparently, green snakes are non-poisonous here, it’s the brown and black ones that are of concern. Like the vipers and spitting cobras that apparently hang out around here! That’s what we’re being told, but we’re not buying the ‘green-means-go’ theory quite yet. We’ve heard a few over-generalizations already and this sure sounds like one to our snake-cautious ears.


That said, we just found out tonight that we’re neighbors with what the locals consider to be a fairly big black snake. Yup. He’s been seen coming and going from the termite mound that’s behind the house next to us, about 20 yards away.

Taken from the door to our yard, the offending termite hill is at the base of the tree...
a little close for comfort!

Here's a close-up of the mound, local children eagerly clamouring to get in the picture
The 'entry' hole is to the left of the little girl's head. See closer-up photo below, if you dare!

There seems to be no question that black means poisonous, anyway. I was busy pouring a bit of snake repellent (called "grezyl" - liquid that smells like moth-balls) on our wall when I was asked by a neighbor to pour some down this snake's alleged entry hole. Incredulous, I asked if this wouldn’t provoke the snake to leave it’s hole and then, finding me standing there like a not-so-smart guy with my bottle of grezyl… well, I tried to quell my imagination there.

“No”, I was bluntly told, “it won’t come out and eat you.” So I poured on the grezyl, my legs wound up like springs should the need-to-flee arise. I put about ¼ cup around the hole’s opening and thought that should be plenty. I walked back to our wall, keeping an eye over my shoulder… No sign of ‘im. We'll tell you if we ever see him, assuming we live to talk about it.

Evil lies within? I still don't like looking too hard at this picture in case my mind starts to see the serpentine outline of a head.

And the capper... this is a shot of the lane leading from our house to the Dispensaire... pleasantly lined with snake-infested termite hills. Who needs coffee for a morning jolt when you can walk down death alley? We're saving up to buy a whole case of grezyl!!!

Shakedown

I try to drive into town as little as possible because you never know when a police officer is going to stop you at one of the many checkpoints and shake you down for some spending money. After several of these episodes (didn’t give any $), I finally agreed to paint the word “Ambulance” across the side of our Renault 18 station wagon since health workers are usually left alone. We weren’t asked to stop at a checkpoint for quite a while but were once accosted by a police officer driving around the city with his moped who tried to get us to cough up a few $. He threatened to take the vehicle, which I resignedly agreed to let him do. I guess I called his bluff because after repeatedly yelling and screaming that he was going to take our car with no change in my answer, he suddenly drove off on his moped. We waited several minutes in case he was coming back, but I could see him a little ways down the road stopping another vehicle, so we just drove off. I guess someone else was going to pay for his groceries…
Funny after the fact, but stressful and unpleasant in the moment!

It was my 31st birthday on the 25th of May and on my way back from town, I decided to take someone’s advice (can’t remember who… Luc?) and bring a cold soft-drink to each of the four police officers on the road back to Niaguis. Omar, our plumber and buddy, was driving and I was busy congratulating myself on such a genius plan. I was just thinking to myself “We may never get stopped again” when the cop waved us over. I couldn’t believe it! Omar got out and shmoozed with the guy as he ‘angrily’ demanded our papers and his license. Omar said “C’mon, I’ll give you a cold beverage to enjoy.” The cop immediately said, “Yes, give it to me”. I handed Omar a Sprite, which he then handed to the officer, who opened it and began drinking as he walked away. Omar took a Fanta (think orange pop... a Senegalese favourite) to the other cop and we were on our way. What a bummer! The one time I had something to give, the cop stopped us and it ended up being a bribe! At least the two officers at the next checkpoint didn’t stop us and were grateful for the drink and the gesture.

Maybe we need to try painting “Police” on the vehicle…

A sampling of Senegalese currency... the object of the officers' affections. I'm told the typical bribe is around 2000CFA. A sprite costs 500CFA, so we still came out ahead. $1Cdn is worth about 450CFA.

Not so Heavenly...

Before arriving in Senegal, we had heard that, at least in some parts of Senegal, it was necessary to iron all clothing before wearing them as a result of ‘mango worms’.

We did a little digging and learned that mango flies (or myiatic flies) are common in areas with hot and humid weather. When clothes are hung outside to dry, the female fly will lay eggs on them and the larvae then burrow under the skin when the clothes are worn.

1st sign - usually general itchiness
Within 3 days – painful, boil-like lesions develop
Over the next three days - pus emerges from each sore as it gets ‘ripe’ – as in ripe to express the worm (I’m told a fairly painful process).

Luckily, the problem can be easily avoided by simply ironing ALL clothing (as well as towels, sheets, etc) with a very hot iron to kill any eggs or by not wearing the clothes for 2-3 days after they have dried since the eggs don’t live that long.

Given how much I detest ironing, it was very important to my emotional wellbeing to find out whether or not such a thing was found in Niaguis. With any luck, no one had ever heard of such a thing and I wouldn’t have to take up ironing (it was bad enough that I had to wash everything by hand with water I drew from the well!).

Three different sources were consulted upon arrival and all reports came back favourable…"no such thing here in Niaguis”. In otherwords, NO IRONING NECESSARY! I had just finished washing all of our clothing the day Fanta, our “Bonne” (aka. Housekeeper - we’ll tell you about her another time), started with us (it was a Friday). She asked if we would like her to come back in the evening to iron all of our things and I of course said ‘no’. I knew I didn’t have to worry about mango worms and I’m not that particular with my clothes, so I was happy to tell her that anything that needed ironing could wait until Monday.

Saturday night, JP and I were awakened by the feeling of something crawling on us. Reaching for the light quickly, we were horrified to find our bed crawling with little worm like creatures with tiny wings! Mango worms? Could it be? Tried as we might to kill them all, we just couldn’t get to the end of them! For every one we killed, 10 more appeared out of nowhere. So up we were at midnight ironing our bed (mattress and all) and all of our clothing! Needless to say we didn’t sleep so well afterwards thinking we might have missed one!

I mentioned our experience to Fanta the next time I saw her - she didn’t seem at all surprised and indicated that was precisely why everyone ironed their wash! Did I mention that the 3 different sources we consulted were all men…they didn’t even know their wives ironed or why! Thankfully, Fanta enjoys ironing, especially with our electric, non-stick iron!

We still don’t know if we were actually woken by mango worms or not, but believe me when I tell you that unpleasant as they may have been, they aren’t nearly the worst/most repulsive thing Niaguis has to offer!

Just a few of the kids that hang out at our place everyday!

A little slice of Heaven...

Over the years, we have spent a lot of money looking for good mangoes - our search propelled by the occasional decent mango - but have had to eventually conclude that there was no such thing as a good mango in Sault Ste Marie! So when we learned that the clinic was on the grounds of a large mango orchard, we were ecstatic!

How even more exciting to learn upon arrival that we had 3 mango trees (and a lemon tree) in our very own yard. We envisioned waking in the morning and harvesting breakfast (and lunch, and supper…) and quickly sought to learn when they would be ripe enough to eat. After 2 months of borderline agony watching the mangoes grow and turn colour (you know the saying ‘a watched pot never boils’), they are FINALLY ready to eat!

One of our 3 very own mango trees!

Imagine our bitter dissapointment when JP and I finally bit in to our first mango from our very own tree and found it to taste worse than many we’ve had in Canada! Turns out that there are many varieties of mangoes and the small stringy variety in our yard is only 1 of dozens of local varieties. Thankfully, the orchard has a number of other FABULOUS varieties that we have been steadily feasting ourselves on all week!

Dinner prep chez les Duchesnes...

But, truth be known, even the best tasting mangoes can get tiresome when eaten ‘en masse’ every day. So…we want you to send us your favorite recipes using mangoes by email or you can post it as a comment so others can enjoy them too!

Looking forward to your suggestions...

Water we gonna do?!?

“It’s a crushed pipe (underground)” we were told over and over. That’s why there’s no water to the houses in Niaguis.

A seemingly random claim, for how could a PVC pipe buried 2 feet underground get crushed, cutting off water to the house? Instead, we knew there were a number of more likely problems with the plumbing setup that would prevent water from coming to the house. Below is a mere sampling of the process we’ve been through.

Problem #1 – Since water supply from the village couldn’t climb all the way up into the Dispensaire water tower there musn’t be enough pressure

Solution – We ignored the water tower and rerouted the village water supply directly to the house we’re staying in. Voila! Running water to the house!


Problem #2 - Since the village didn’t always have diesel fuel to run their water pump and fill their reservoir (or at least, the diesel they did have wasn’t used to fill the tower…) we often had no water for several days at a time.

Solution – So we figured we’d better now fix our water tower supply problem. We installed a smaller diameter hose at the tower to increase pressure, and voila! Water filled the tower!



Problem #3 - Water still wasn’t coming to the house so there must be a blockage between the tower and the house, a mere 60 metres distance

Solution - Dig! We started digging every 20 or so feet, trying to find the pipe each time to see in what general direction it headed on it’s path from the tower to the houses. We discovered that it took the most unexpected path – right through the root system of a very large tree!


Problem #4 – A crushed pipe!

Solution - We dug a new channel about 35m long to get around the tree and attached the new PVC to the existing pipe and voila! We now have a constant supply of water! No more drawing water from the well using our 70 ft rope and bucket! No more ‘bathing by the cup’ or hand filtering water to drink using our little filter pump we used when camping back home (it takes about 600 pumps to fill a 5L bottle!). The reservoir holds well over 1000litres (maybe even as much as 2000), which hopefully will be enough water to bridge between days when the village pumps water that we can use to refill.



But it gets even better…
- We also have a small electric hot water tank (~30-40L) that automatically refills from the reservoir when it empties. Not that we use the hot water showers - a cold shower is much more inviting here in Niaguis – but it’s nice to was dishes with hot water.



- In the kitchen, we also have a wall spigot leading to two filters – one ceramic, one carbon – from which we refill our drinking water bottles. It’s good water and we know it’s not chemically treated!
- AND last but certainly not least, we have a ‘Bonne’ (housekeeper) that does all of our laundry…by hand of course…Tammy will tell you more about that another time.

Life is good!

___________________

Problem - since drafting this blog entry offline a couple of days ago, we are now without running water again! We’re back to bucket showers and maybe hand-filtering water again if the village doesn’t pump water soon. But as of this morning, there’s a diesel fuel shortage in the area that might mean no water for a little while yet… we’ll see. Just when we thought we had it made!

Solution - We’re now working on fixing an old hand-pump that was in storage so we can pump from our own well into buckets, or even up to our own tower. Gotta be resourceful around here!

Canada still has reliable running water, doesn't it?

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Earlier this week, we also got water of another sort. Rain water. It was only a light spray for 10 minutes or less – a mere introduction of the torrential downpours we’re repeatedly being told to expect. We both love hard rainstorms and thunderstorms (not sure our cats will be that fond of them), but it’s the mosquitoes and snakes that come with the rain that have us worried… bet your gonna hear more from us about these critters...