It's not in my head, I'm NOT crazy!

I've sort of taken a vacation from writin my blog. Nothing much has happened since the last time I wrote (which I know pretty much said that I was continually sick) : I've continued to be sick! Fever, lack of energy, either missed work or went but didn't have enough energy to see patients...

Last weekend, my grand outing of the day was to go to laudine’s and decorate for Xmas. It was a lot of fun and it put me in the mood for Christmas, despite the everpresent sunshine, blue skies, banana trees etc. Claudine has a lot of teenagers in her family and everyone was into making the decorations and mounting them in their yard. Let me tell you though, being in a tropical muselman country, it sure doesn’t feel like Xmas! On Saturday night, Phil called me to say he had arrived in Senegal!! I pretty much spent all of Sunday in bed feeling like crap and waiting for Phil's arrival. My grand outing of Sunday was to go get him at the airport (which is pretty much a wall beside a runway...). I was so happy to see my paled tall lover boy!! We fit in each other's arms perfectly; four months of not seeing each other did not alter our fabulous chemistry :)

(Image left: People from Dakar have come to celebrate Christmas: Nadine, Anne-Marie, Mathieu, Marie-Hélène, myself)

Monday I went to work but was too pooped once I got there to actually work. Finally, MC + Claudine told me this has been going on for too long and to go see the doctor. Coming from a family of doctors, I know they CANNOT STAND patients who come to tell them they have runny noses and headaches. Hence the reason I didn't consult for the longest time. But, my friends were right: Dr. Fatou Bintou Diouf listened to my lungs, took my BP and told me I had bronchitis and to go get the Goutte épaisse (malaria testing). She was extremely sweet because she had been out of town for the day and saw me at 8 pm!

(Image right: 24th Xmas party. We spelled NOËL with human bodies. I'm the ¨ !!!!)

My coughing / bronchitis is easily explainable by the recent Ziguinchor fad of burning garbage near dwelling with massive amounts of plastic. Unfortunately and suprisingly, Africans haven't understood that you are NOT supposed to burn garbage. The streets are toxic these days; its extremely hard to breath and prompts headaches.

(Image right: mon chéri in the tropics :)

The next day, I got tested for malaria and the following day I got my result: POSITIVE! What a wonderful Christmas gift fate had for me! I Can't believe I got malaria considering I'm taking the most modern/expensive prophylactic drug on the market: malarone (5 CAD per day). As soon as I found out, I called Dr. Fatou Binto and she told me what meds to take, next my supervisor Abba wrote the Rx and I went directly to the pharmacy to get and administer the drug: Coartem. That very day (December 24), after TWO WEEKS of feeling under the weather, I started feeling better :)

I was in good enough shape to enjoy our Christmas party chez Claudine. We had a delicious buffet/pot luck. And when I say delicious, I mean it! Months and months of planning and craving for this meal! There was a good mix of Senegalais + white people and the most important person was there to share the happy celebration with me: Phil :)

(Image left: El Hadj - dressed in Xmas colors - interacting with his Canadian friends. To my nephews and nieces : note the fine art in the background.... I miss you guys so much!)

On Christmas day, Phil and I packed up (with El Hadj's help) and headed to Cap Skirring for our super vacation. We are staying at a French lady's private home on the beach that I researched for in October. To put it concisely, it is Fantastic. We have our own litte room with hot water in our bathroom + access to a nicely furnished kitchen. I'll let the photos explain the rest.

Nothing much planned for new years. Will make a shrimp salad and drink wine while watching the sunset. Then, we'll tune our ears and hunt for the best djembe party Cap Skirring has to offer us...

Happy New Year 2009!!!

(Image right: view of ocean from the balcony. In the background, a cow. There are more cows on the beach than tourists! Marjo, tu capoterais ici! Mom, this place is infested with bougainvillias!!!)

(Image left: Phil and I at the Djola Museum. We walked about 6 km on deserted beach to get to the next village. We are behind a fromager tree with a hole)

(Image right: tourists on the endless beach. I really enjoy the cows.

I had the pleasure of seeing a cow give birth right in front of me! Amazing the gift of life and animal instincts.

Marjo, je pense souvent à toi; ça serait vraiment la destination parfaite pour toi. Est-ce que tu penses que cela serait des vacances quand même? Tu te sentirais peut-être débordée)

(Image left: Phil and I enjoying a home cooked meal on our terrace during sunset. I'm telling you, its not easy this life!)

Everlasting cold

On Friday morning, I woke up with a sore throat :( It’s more or less a surprise. Everybody has been getting sick thanks to the huge difference in temperature between the day and night time. The day at work was long since I was feeling under the weather and the staff + patients were hardly there. I bought my weekend bag to work for an unknown destination. Indeed, we have hit most destinations in Casamance. MC brought the Lonely Planet and we haphazardly selected Diembering as our weekend destination.

After work, we headed chez MC to eat lunch – leftover spaghetti – yum! And left with Sabine’s (her roommate) son who is visiting: Yann. It took us 5hrs to transit there! I was expecting to only take 2! It was so long because we took a local bus which was late and stopped every 50’. Not feeling 100%, this transit was hell. I got there in a very foul mood because my seating had been extremely uncomfortable, I felt like shit and I had missed my seaside sunset.

(Image right: view of the front console of the bus. They always decorate their vehicles with a plethora of tacky things. Oh well: gives the passengers something to look at)

Diembering being a small village, there were not a ton of places to stay. Since the sun was setting and we had no reservations, we were forced to stay at the first suggested place which had outrageous prices. My being sick didn’t help the negotiating process; we were pretty much stuck. Because eating a normal meal would have been also expensive, we ended up eating an egg omelette sandwich.

(Image right: photo of my braid hairdo!)

On Saturday, we headed to the nearby beach after breakfast. The water has gotten really cold so I didn’t even swim! I started reading Great Expectations by Charles Dickens so indulged in that for most of the day. After beaching for hours, we headed back up to the village (about 1 km away from the coast) to move into a different campement. The village of Diembering is really charming: the streets are small and convoluted and there are no cars or motorcycles. Its very easy to get “lost” and there are animals everywhere + beautiful trees. As you walk between peoples’ homes with the chickens and pigs, the people kindly great you. The village has a different feel to it and I can’t help but believe this can be explained by the fact that it is mostly Christian (vs Muselman).

(Image left: at the center of the village stands the great fromager tree)

After finding and getting installed in our campement, a fellow villager escorted us to “the hill” so that we could watch the sunset. He was a really nice guy who simply showed us around and asked for nothing in return. Afterwards, we went back to our campement and had a most delicious dinner consisting of home grown rice, hand cut fries, salad and fresh grilled fish. Yum! We had grand plans to make a fire on the beach in the evening since it was a full moon. However, the meal was so fulfilling that we opted for being party poopers and rolling into bed.

The is a local artist who made it big (of sorts) who wrote a song about Diembering. You can see the video on you tube – its worth seeing because it depicts the village very well:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=__-k5mBfLrY

Still feeling so-so, on Sunday after breakfast, we returned to the beach for some more reading and relaxing.

(Image right: on the hill ready for sunset)

Unfortunately, Yann was feeling even worse than I and he stayed in bed. We headed back to Zig in the pm, this time taking taxis instead of the agonizing bus. Once home, I felt I needed exercise so I went for bike ride #2. People get really surprised to see a white girl on a bicycle. Oh well.

My work week started grimly: I was in no shape to go to work, let alone get out of bed. I had a full blown cold. Normally, a cold wouldn’t stop me from going to work, but its as though any ailment here in Africa is four times worse and takes far longer to heal. I’m at a loss for explaining why…

(Image left: the beach of Diembering is lined with trees which provide shade and make it feel enchanted)

Tuesday, I didn’t feel much better when I got up but figured that it is ridiculous to miss work for just a cold, so I went to work. Turns out this was a bad idea. I didn’t have the energy to see patients. Instead, I sat around doing more administrative work and relaxing before walking back home for sleep. During my time at home, apart from sleeping a lot, I watched the TV show Weeds which is quite entertaining.

(Image right: myself and MC on the beach of Diembering. Its wide and empty like this in both directions as far as the eye can see!)

I still felt crappy on Wednesday but better energy levels so went to work. I had scheduled a home visit that I (I should say the patient) couldn’t afford to miss. My poor lady was discharged home and has severe dysphagia. I spent hours trying to get her to eat, drink, etc. and was drained after the visit. Once back at work on Thursday, I was happy to learn that they have an ORL specialist at the hospital who I will be redirecting my dysphasic lady to.

(Image left: Yann, MC and me on the hill at sunset. The ocean (not visible in the picture but was to us) is about 1 km away)

Thursday was a big day considering the cold was still lingering. Lingering might be an understatement…I was a snot factory! Nonetheless, I saw each of my patients and gave a two hour presentation to the porters as had been planned for weeks. It went well. I was late and not in a state to play ultimate so that will have to wait until 2009! I was supposed to go see a play at the theatre but after eating my supper at the location, was too pooped to stay. The smartest thing I did all week was go to the pharmacy to buy the equivalent of Sudafed for my clogged and oozing nose. That night, I slept well for the first time in a week!

(Image right: beautiful sunset. You can see the ocean in the distance. Beautiful land)

After work, I left with the girls for lunch and then to the bus station on route to Baila, a nearby small village. Things being as they are, we bought our bus ticket and waited TWO hours for the bleeping bus to fill up. The transit to Baila was a mere 50 minute ride. Very frustrating, but not much you can do about it.

(Image right: Baila pose; my invention; the fleuve in the background)

When we got there, we quickly understood that there was absolutely nothing to do. The campement we stayed in (the only on in the village) was justly named: Campement du Village. It is run by the village itself and they rotate managers at regular intervals. Our host/manager, Landing, was very welcoming. Since there wasn’t much to do, I asked Landing what the people from the village do; he said that these days, they harvest rice and fish. I therefore asked him if it would be possible to learn how to harvest rice and he acquiesced, adding that it would also be possible to have a tour in a pirogue boat + visit a home he was currently building. Very exciting plans for a day, no?

(Image left: MC, myself and our guide out on the very easy-to-tip pirogue)

We had a delicious supper after making our Saturday plans. We ended up going to bed rather early since there wasn’t anything else to do. For the first time during the trip, the three of us concluded that we should have packed a deck of cards… The weather in Senegal is changing quickly and that night, we froze! My usual instant Nescafe never felt so good on Saturday morning. After breakfast, our delightful hosts boarded us onto the grand pirogue (carved directly from the trunk of a fromager tree) and paddled us to the rice fields where we shadowed an

(Image right: me working the fields)

elderly lady harvesting rice. I even tried it myself and must admit, it is hard work.

(Image left: rice on its stalk, rice in its shell, rice de-shelled/how we eat it; all in my hand)

Once our pirogue/rice expedition was over, we ***halt!: I’m typing this blog in my room and just saw a mouse; I’ve gotten so used to seeing various critters that I didn’t even jump or react***

(Image right: me with bushels of rice)

packed up our bags and headed through town to the place where the house was being built. It was pretty neat to see a rather big house being constructed out of red mud!

Landing served us cony fruit from the renier tree (the tree looks like a palm tree but has fan like leaves – the fruit looks like a coconut but has three chambers instead of one; each chamber contains the gelatinous comestible portion of the fruit). See image left.

Our next stop was home: Ziguinchor. Landing (my African dad) is on a long trip to Europe, Russia and Finland and Astou was home (Bignona) for Tabaski so I was alone. The sheer excitement of having the house to myself reminded me of teenage hood. I took advantage of this rare and solitary occasion to cook a meal and have people over. Thus, me and the girls prepared shrimps in a white wine sauce in crepes. Yum! While making supper, we treated ourselves to home made sangria. The Senegalais people (Lucien – colleague, Daouda – my friend and Malick – Claudine’s friend) I invited enjoyed the meal but perhaps not to the same extent as us girls. Towards 11:45 p.m., we headed out to Ziguinchor’s hippest night clubs: The Bombalong.

(Image right: the delicious supper!)

I felt 100% (not like the last time when I had a stomach ache) and had a blast dancing; or should I say learning how to dance like an African! It was nice to have keys to my home and not have to wake anybody in the middle of the night to unlock the door for me. Lucien escorted me up the dark stairs and made sure I was safe and sound :)

(Image left: Lucien and Daouda - ready to dance dance dance!)

I spent Sunday on my own, thrilled with the peace and quiet of my solitude. I slept in, treated myself to left over crepes from the night before with chocolate and banana. Went to internet café to speak with Phil, who is arriving shortly, and to blog. Phil informed me that he got a job he thinks he’ll love. Congratulations! Towards the end of the day, I had the pleasure of going for a bike ride with Lucien’s bike (which he lent me for a week or so). I went two villages away from Ziguinchor and thoroughly enjoyed the scenery and fresh air.

After work on Monday, I headed out to Bignona (small town 30 km away from Zig) on my own. MC and Claudine spent Tabaski in Claudine’s family; I celebrated it in Astou’s family.

(Image left: dead lamb; sacrifice to Allah)

It was a thrill to see where Astou was born and raised + her siblings. The home was typical and so was the family: rudimentary infrastructure and finishings, many people, many young. For supper I had a warm cereal I had never tried before made of peanuts and rice. I like my fundai (corn cereal) better!

(Image right: deader lamb; being butchered)

Tuesday was official Tabaski day. I witnessed lamb getting killed and butchered first thing after waking up. I must admit, I had to devote a lot of attention on not being sick to the stomach. As I had previously mentioned, Tabaski is the biggest Muselman holiday.

(Image left: Astou`s family: El Hadj, her mother, Nabu, Astou herself taken the night before Tabaski)

It had much of the familial celebratory spirit feeling Christmas has in my family. The activities were obviously very different though. All day, the family cooperated in butchering the lamb which is an enormous amount of work. The men kill, skin, triage and chop the lamb. The women take the pieces of chopped lamb and cut them further and cook it. It pretty much took the entire day and everybody seemed happy. The highlight of their day was eating the prepared lamb as a meal together and drinking soda pop.

(Image right: Astou`s family enjoying Tabaski)

This is how Muselman’s celebrate; it is their idea of fun. Although I enjoyed myself as well, I can’t say it felt much like a holiday/party and I must admit that I don’t like the taste of lamb meat so I didn’t fully appreciate the meal… I still ate too much because they prepared “beignets” – highly addictive doughnut holes.

(Image left: me with my braided hair and dressed in my new boubou for Tabaski)

I was really happy to have gone there on my own because it forced me to participate in the festivities. Had MC or Claudine came with me, I’m pretty sure we would have isolated ourselves in a corner and observed from further away. As it happens, I circulated between Nabu’s family and Astou’s (they are neighbours) socializing and participating in the preparations. I also took advantage of being the outsider who doesn’t speak the language to sleep and relax a lot.

(Image right: the main meal of Tabaski)

On Wednesday, I made it back to Ziguinchor for a bicycle date with my friend Daouda. Indeed, I wanted to take advantage of being in possession of a bicycle. ** I don’t think I’ve talked about Daouda before… I’ve known him for quite some time now and he is slowly becoming a good friend. I say this because making friends here is really hard – everyone pretends to be your friend but has an ulterior motive. After many deceptions in befriending people, I had given up the idea of making friends in Senegal. Daouda might be an exception! I truly hope so!**

When I called him to say I had arrived, he excitedly proposed a motorcycle ride instead. How could I refuse? He took me out of Ziguinchor in a direction I had never been before and I very much enjoyed the ride. When we got back, it was still early and people were still celebrating Tabaski (kind of like December 25 and 26 – Xmas is pretty much over but it still lingers in the air).

(Image left: Daouda and the motorcycle)

Wearing my Tabaski boubou (to show it off to Daouda), we visited multiple members of his family and his friends as is the Tabaski spirit. We walked all around Ziguichor with not much to do other than to meet and greet people. I’m not usually a sociable person, but I really enjoyed this. It made me feel like I had thoroughly and successfully celebrated Tabaski to the greatest extent possible. While walking, we even went to the airport. I made sure it was still standing for Phil’s arrival in a number of days!!!!! So exciting!!! When dinner time came around, I invited Daouda to a restaurant I’d never tried and treated myself to gaspacho + shared a banana split with him. He had never tasted a banana split and I had been craving one so it was a very memorable experience.

(Image right: riding with Daouda -artistic photography, no?)

Getting back to work on Thursday was quite depressing. Most of the staff was absent and the department felt empty = not very motivating circumstances to work. Claudine was sick with the flu so was absent on Friday as well. MC was having a little down (it happens to all of us here every now and then) so we finished work early and did what’s best to do when you’re feeling a little blue: cook, eat and drink! I had talked to her about my delicious spaghetti and persuaded her into remaking it with me.

(Image left: me visiting Zig with Daouda; holding his niece in my arms. She is SO adorable!)

By the time we bought everything we needed, prepared and ate it and enjoyed the bottle of red wine, the afternoon had flown by. As on every Thursday, I headed to the park to play ultimate. There weren’t many people there again – apparently because of Tabaski. But, there was a French dude who showed up because he had seen one of my coworkers walking with a disc on the street and had excitedly approached him to find out where people were playing ultimate. Turns out the French dude is a pro and had tried getting the sport going here a couple of months ago too but had had less success than I. I’m hoping he’ll show up next week again.

I had been asked by the Association of Physically Handicapped People of Ziguinchor to present all the assistive devices we had conceived during their national awareness day; Wednesday. I had organized all the assistive devices I wanted to present but didn`t think I`d be needing to prepare anything more. Some colleagues dropped me off at the Governance Square to attend to the official ceremony. Present, was a military band, security, the Minister of Social Affairs, media and the public (of which many were disabled).

To my great surprise, my role in the events of the day was much more than I had anticipated; I was one of their main line-ups. So I was half listening to the Minister speak in Wolof and then heard a couple key words which caught my attention: Canadian, aides techniques, Hopital Regional de Ziguinchor. Oh Geez! Seconds later, the president of the association asked me to go in front of everyone and speak about my profession and briefly present the assistive devices. And there I was, getting filmed, photographed as I spoke with a mic in a big sound system to over a hundred people. Yikes! I have no idea if what I said made sense or if they understood what I was saying given my accent, but it seemed appreciated. Talk about confronting your greatest fears… I detest and am scared of public speaking (not to mention terrible at it)!

It took over an hour to calm my nerves down. On top of it, I didn’t know anybody so couldn’t share my panic with anyone (my colleagues had left and the ones who were supposed to be present were not). The day continued at the city stadium where I waited for everyone to move and helped the organizers prepare the afternoon meal. Not knowing what the day’s schedule was, I eventually spoke again. This time more prepared, I received multiple questions and comments at the end of my 15-20 minute presentation. Another man spoke after me and that was it. Simply put, my presentation was one of the main events of the day! Yikes!

When I got home at the end of the day, I was exhausted. Meeting people and public speaking is fatiguing! I’d hate to be a politician. Since both Astou and I were sick on the weekend, my braids had yet to be done. She started tugging on my head at around 5h30 pm and we finished around midnight (about an hour break for supper). As usual, there was a power outage so she completed my braids with my frontal lamp on her forehead. It was a long night for us all!

The next day, I received compliments regarding my new look from a many, especially men. I'll be taking photos shortly. I realize I should have taken more! A cameraman from the preceding day found me at work and offered to sell me photos. He also informed me that there was video feed of me too! Soon, the paparazzi will be after me ;) Just kidding…

Thursday afternoons are official ultimate frisbee days. The turn out was bad though – four friends turned up (which is very good) but nobody else was at the field. Apparently, the turn out was bad because everyone is busy preparing for Tabaski. It is the most important Muselman holiday of the year. It is also known as the celebration of the lambs and occurs 40 days after Korite.

According to what I’ve been told, Allah sent a message to the prophet Ibrahim saying that he must kill his own son to prove his love of God. Ibrahim was about to kill his son when a lamb appeared and he killed it instead of sacrificing his son. The notion that Ibrahim was ready to kill his own son is supposed to show how devoted he is to Allah. Practicing Muselmans celebrate Tabaski by buying a lamb and slitting its throat (sacrificing it) after the morning prayer. Those who can’t afford to buy a lamb sacrifice a smaller animal. Once the man of the family has killed the lamb, the women grill or prepare it for consumption in festivity with family. Apparently the man who sacrifices the lamb must eat its heart and liver before eating anything else.

Lambs are ultra-present on the streets these days. I have seen many on the roofs of buses and cars being transported to their FINAL destination. As I type this, I hear many more “baaas” than usual; intermixed with the usual rooster crows, goat and pig noises. It is saddening to see all these good looking sheep who will be sacrificed instead of being featured in a neat Serta advertisement. I find it hard not to stop and tell each one I see: “If you want to live, you’ve got to smarten up and run run run far far away, you poor bastard!” Since I want to maintain my status as an international worker, I refrain from vocalizing my thoughts to the sheep around me. May their final moments be filled with sunshine and glory. May they rest in peace.

On Friday, I felt like a teenager again! Astou and company (Nabu and El Hadj – Landing is on a trip in Europe) left home to go celebrate Tabaski in her nearby village. I was therefore granted the one and only key to the home. What an honour! Astou gave me clear instructions about locking up and not using up too much electricity. She told me that she’d be shutting the refrigerator to save on electricity and asked that I displace the four chickens I had bought for the family elsewhere. Thus, on Friday morning, I left for work with my bag for the weekend along with four frozen chickens. With my supervisor’s and the janitor’s permission, I put my four trustee chickens in the freezer at work. Bet you’ve never done that in your lifetime, huh?

I discharged one of my favourite patients as we had obtained our treatment objectives. As a therapist, I always find it hard to discharge motivated and kind patients which I have come to befriend. I’ll miss seeing you, Mr. S! All the best!

Plot for Quentin Tarintino!

Monday was a HUGE day at work! I had patients every hour and the presentation for the porters which lasted three hours! I ended up finishing work at 6 p.m. which is unheard of here (seeing as how I had started at 8 a.m.). Intermixed with the larger than usual workload, was the unfortunate fact that Marie-Claude got robbed at work.

We always put our personal belongings in an office, behind the desk but this office is not locked. As of the first week of work here, I had asked my supervisor for an appropriate place to store my bag but he never put his words into action. So we sort of got used to putting our bags in the best place we could think of. It’s no surprise that one of us got robbed. What’s unusual is that our three bags were one next to the other and only MC’s things got robbed – wallet (60$ worth plus driver’s licence and ATM card) + camera (with all trip pictures) + cell phone. The robber could have very easily taken stuff out of my and Claudine’s bags. Since MC was the only target, this generated a sort of a witch hunt; trying to find out who would steel from her but not us. We tried thinking of all the staff, patients and patient family members who could have done this to her. What a terrible thing to have happen! We looked at everyone as though they were a suspect and doubted everything. This is hard on one’s mental health :(

Disturbed by the whole situation and unproductive at work, MC went home for a nap. The lady whose home she lives in woke her up to bring her to the Marabu so she could get her belongings back. Marabus are spiritual workers who use their powers to fix situations. When you have a problem, you go to the Marabu and he’ll tell you what you have to do, get you to pay him and he’ll work his magic. It’s kind of like voodoo. Very unconvinced but nonetheless open-minded, MC accepted to go see this Marabu person and we came along with her.

The experience was unbelievably far-fetched. We were welcomed into the guy’s nice home and he asked MC to explain what had happened. He told her she first needs to declare the robbery to the police. Then he explained that if she accepted to pay him 30 000 (75$) and bring him a kolobass (a dried fruit you can shake like a rattle) he could get the robber to bring her back her stolen items. He said that he could put a spell on the robber which would disable him from evacuating (pee and poop). The person in question would become very uncomfortable and grow a big belly. Eventually, he would realize that this is a spell and that he must return to give back MC her things so the spell can be removed. He told this in such a serious way that laughing was not an option… but come on!

After visiting the Marabu, we met at a resto with a colleague who had invited us to eat facko cherr (wild pig). I had never eaten this before and it was quite good (in a most carnivorous way). They served the pieces of meat with some chopped raw onion. Very basic. During the day and still during our evening meal, we made many futile attempts to call MC’s cell phone but it was as though the chip had been removed. After supper, Claudine tried once again and got somebody! He gave us his name and told us that he had bought the phone earlier today from a man who also had a camera for sale! The events of the day were really starting to resemble a Hollywood movie…

Lucien, the colleague we were eating with, spoke to the guy in possession of MC’s cell in Wolof and they set up a meeting point to further discuss the situation. Given the mysterious circumstances and the late night, we felt it was inappropriate for us white girls to go to the meeting + inappropriate for Lucien to go all by himself. We therefore recruited Abo, Stephanie’s boyfriend – Steph is the girl from last year who lived where I do now. He came with his motorcycle to pick up Lucien and they sped off into the dark night to meet our number one suspect. Unreal. Meanwhile, us now four white girls shared a bottle of bissap juice and expired chocolate. The night ended in disappointment since our number one suspect did not show up to the meeting spot :(

I still think the day’s events are Hollywood movie material though.

The next day, MC went to declare the robbery to the police. At work, things were calmer since our second presentation had been cancelled at the porters’ request. The day was nonetheless long given that I had new patients. After work, I went on internet and then rushed home in time to see the sunset on my balcony while sipping a beer I had bought over a month ago ! It was oh so peaceful. When I came back downstairs to eat supper, I got a call from Steph (who did not get along with Astou and Landing because of Abo) as she wanted to use my computer to transfer her pictures. Seeing as how I was at home and Astou heard me say their name, the situation was most awkward and tense. Since I have nothing to do with their whole charade, I simply told Steph it would be a good idea to bite the bullet and come say `hi` to Astou. Once done with my computer, she did so ; it was extremely awkward but now its done. Hopefully I won’t hear of their conflicting stories again…

Ile Karabane - ca tire! ca tire! ca tire des carabines a feu!

(Image left: Ile Karabane as we approach via small boat)

On the weekend, I went to another destination in Casamance called Ile de Karabane. It is an island in the fleuve Casamance which is a couple kilometers from the ocean. There are about 500 people who live on the island. It was the capital of the Casamance region back during the colonial days, during which it was inhabited by about 3000 people. Today, it is about half christian, half muselman.

More religions stats: Senegal is about 95% muselman; Casamance is about 90% muselman.

We (MC, Claudine and Sabine) left Zig after work on Friday afternoon and made it to a small town from which we took a boat to the island.

(Image right: Elinkine waterfront from where we took our boat. The baobab tree is the village's sacred tree)

On Saturday morning, we went fishing! We were quite terrible fisherwomen… Claudine caught a HUGE tree trunk, Sabine caught rocks and I got a fish, a crab and more rocks. The most exciting part was seeing dolphins again!

(Image left: view of Casamance Fleuve from our hotel room)

I enjoyed exploring the island on my solitary walks. Sunday morning, I set out on a mission to get what the island is reknowned for: coconuts. I asked around and eventually got a guy who asked a boy (about 7-8 years old) to climb a coconut tree obtain them for us. I was utterly amazed to see the agile barefoot boy climb the tree with no equipment. He stayed up there for a good 20 minutes, hanging off the tree, kicking the coconuts down one at a time. Every second he was up there I was scared he slip and fall 25`!

When I got back home with my coconuts as gifts for my family, I invented a dessert with one of them. I`m proud to say that I`ve learned the technique of how to break a coconut and access the meat in less than half a day`s work! I bought peanut paste (this is the land of peanuts but curiously, they don’t eat peanut butter!) and mixed with it with the coconut I had grated. I then rolled the paste into little balls which were extremely addictive and pleased everyone who tried them!

(Image right: what could have been! We did not catch these fish but we sure did eat them! Villagers come to see the catch of the day as the fishing boat returns before sunset. The fishermen give the fish to the villagers according to size. Very nice to see)

Since the trip to Dakar, my caseload had significantly decreased and I had zero patients scheduled for Monday. As it turns out, I had three appear out of nowhere which made for a full day! I was anxious for Monday pm after work since I had organized a palm wine drinking session with collegues from work (Lucien and Calyssao). I heard about palm wine when I first got to Senegal and really wanted to try it except it wasn`t in season. Now it is! Palm wine is the water collected from the top of palm trees. When first extracted, it is sugary and has a milky look/consistency. At one day old, it starts its fermentation process and becomes alcoholic. Devout muselmans do not drink palm wine = my family doesn`t.

Drinking palm wine is ritual-like in that they pour it in a special wooden bowl with a big wooden spoon that everyone drinks from. There is a special technique to hold the spoon and fill it with the liquid. I really liked the experience even though I didn`t dig the wine itself that much. I found the 1-day old wine was plain gross. The fresh wine was ok- I think its an acquired taste ;)

(Image left: I took lots of photos at Ile Karabane during my walks)

In the evening, I was invited to Sabine`s (MC`s roomate) for supper. We had sangria, red wine and german food! She prepared a delicious potatoe salad with meat balls unlike any that I had tasted before. The diversity in food felt really good. We ate by candle lite because Ziguinchor is plagued with black outs these days.

That night, I slept terribly! Since there wasn`t any electricity, I couldn`t sleep in my room because its too hot (no fan). So, I slept out on the balcony where I eventually got woken up because I was being devoured by mosquitoes. I then moved back into my room; the electricity hadn`t come back but I was sleepy and the temperature had slightly decreased. I had trouble falling asleep because Nabu (my roomate) was snoring hardcore. The next time I woke was to pee. Then the nearby Imam with a crazy throat started praying/yelling at 5:30 am. Then, El Hadj started crying. Then my alarm woke me at 6:30 to go for a jog. Arr. I ended up skipping the jog and doing it at dusk instead.

(Image right: little kids who really wanted me to take their photo on the island. Baobab trunk in the background)

Wednesday, I woke up with my stomach feeling kind of funky. Once at work, I was ecstatic to see that a little girl I had seen when I had the palm wine two days ago had showed up, as I had recommended she come to consult. The poor 8-year old girl cerebral palsy and walked on her knees. A pair of orthotics, a walker and some therapy will really increase her quality of life. The parents had never sought help because they are too poor. Us three Canadians agreed on splitting the costs of her interventions.

We tried a new place for lunch which is run by nuns (we didn’t see any though). It was pleasant and I now know of a place where I can eat pork! After lunch, we went to the market to buy our supplies for a Shepard’s Pie meal planned for the following day for our all our work collegues; 16 people. While at the market, I bought hair extensions as I will be getting my hair braided soon.

(Image right: myself, Sabine, Claudine, Marie-Claude at the hotel`s restaurant. As you can see, the waterfront is very close to the hotel - the entire village is like this)

Thursday, my stomach discomfort continued accompanied with diahrrea. The day seemed long… We made the Shepard’s Pie for the entire department with one burner in a tool room and our cooking utensils brought from home. Quite a feat! The meal was enjoyed by everyone. They finished everything! The best part was the ketchup: they aren’t familiar with it so they called it Canadian bissap. Bissap is a plant here with red flowers from which they make sauces and juice (red). They loved eating the Shepard’s Pie with lots of ketchup so they kept on asking to “pass the Canadian bissap”. Ha ha. After the Shepard’s Pie and even though I felt yucky, I went to play ultimate since I’ve promised myself to try and introduce the sport. The turnout was pretty good. We’ll see about it again for next week!

(Image right: sunset during my walk on Ile Karabane. This is a little river within the island)

On Friday, my bed sore presentation got cancelled AGAIN because the nurses said they have no time. This is really starting to reflect the sense of professionalism in this department. One nurse explained to me that she had already learned all about bed sores in school so if she wanted a refresher on them, she could simply consult her notes. And if she wanted to update her knowledge, she could simply go online and research. No comment. I’m giving up; my time is spent better doing other work.

My upset stomach continued through the day and night. I took a nap and went to a concert I had bought tickets for. It was three Senegalais groups from different parts of the country and with different genres. Very entertaining and enjoyable. I came home early though because of sickness. I spent Saturday relaxing since I still felt iffy and had no energy. In between naps, I prepared for the presentation Claudine and I have to give to the hospital’s porters in the coming weeks. I took it easy on Sunday too but my energy levels were much better. I felt very homesick on the weekend so I decided to make some comfort food: spaghetti. The hardest part is getting the ingredients at the market. This procedure is getting easier with experience though. However, I don’t think I’ll ever get entirely comfortable with buying meat from a butcher with no gloves, who cuts your piece of meat off a huge chunk of the cow with flies all over it, bringing your warm piece of meet across the market to a gang of ladies with hand propelled mechanical grinders that aren’t so clean and who ask another nearby merchant lady to precut the meat. Gross. That’s why its so important to cook it very very very well.

(Image left: cemetery of Ile Karabane; beside the Muselman one)

The spaghetti meal turned out to be a success even though I didn’t have any of the ingredients I’d usually use except for onions, carrots, salt and pepper. It truly hit the spot and not just mine! My whole family devoured the dish. Astou even unbuttoned her pants to be able to fit more in! What a compliment!

work week

Last Tuesday, I was one busy chicita preparing for my presentation. The highlight of my day was eating lunch with one of Claudine’s friends named Jules. When we were finished and talking afterwards, I perused through a copy of the Coran lying next to me. I saw a couple of things which troubled me in it. I’m no scholar in theological studies, but it was the first sacred text I read that spoke of other religions negatively (it actually names Christianity and Judaism). The passages about how to treat a women were also an interesting read…feminists must boil when reading the Coran! Since I didn’t read it from cover to cover (and have no intention to), I feel it isn’t my place to expand on this subject any further.

My presentation on Wednesday went relatively well even though half the people weren’t even present and it started two hours later than initially planned (at nursing staff’s request). I printed the handouts at the very last minute – as usual and reminded myself at how terrible a student I am since I’m always last minute…its pathological! When the presentation finally started, I was surprised to see that my supervisor, Abba, attended which I found was a good thing. Maybe one day, he’ll give me feedback. He repeated most of what I said which seemed to help the people present understand the concepts more clearly. I found it quite funny because he pretty much repeated verbatim but with his accent. I ended up eating lunch at 5 pm!

After work the next day, I organized the first ultimate baptism. I started this sport while studying at McGill and have played more or less ever since. Seeing that it was only recently invented, it hasn’t spread to this part of the world yet. Two of my team mates in Ottawa own a company that makes the discs. They gave me a stack of new discs to promote the sport here. Exciting! Its been difficult trying to organize something but I did it on last Thursday. Many people at the park joined in and its surprising how fast some people learn to throw + catch the disc. Towards the end, we even did a little scrummage as I added more and more rules (which thereafter got translated). Not easy! It was mostly boys who were interested – but all ages! I had little guys about 7 years old and full grown men. I’ll be trying to do weekly practices…