Photo Update: 2014 Leadership Conference !

I'm feeling grateful and inspired after finishing up my biggest project so far. THANK YOU SO MUCH to friends and family who donated to the conference!

We had 22 vibrant middle-school girls and their accompanying fathers for an intensive camp-style workshop on gender equality.

The participants came from all over the region - by public transport, horse cart, or whatever means were available. For many of the more remote girls, this was their first time in a city. They stayed for 3 nights and were exposed to new ideas and thought-provoking speakers on women's rights in Senegal.

Some of the best sessions were group discussions on reproductive health, family nutrition, and educational empowerment. The fathers and their daughters had some individual sessions and some working together. It was really moving to watch the daughters create action plans with their fathers about the future. These types of conversations are rare in the typical Senegalese family.

Friendship bracelets and building a quilt for the future were favorites with the girls.

Writing action-plans helped serve the purpose of exposing the participants to all of the possibilities for a young woman in Senegal.

My girls from my village - Aminata Ndao, Awa Sall, and Deynaba Diallo. It was awesome to get much closer to them, learn more about their goals, and play sleepover games.

Kadidiatou Sow and Mariama Ba, lookin' serious. The go-to pose for photos.

We played relay races and soccer games which were both hilarious and educational!

It was cool for the girls to make new friends from different villages and different ethnic groups.

The incredible motivational speaker Awa Traore discusses taking control of your body, life, and future.

Team-building activities like pass the hula-hoop and the human knot.

The participants were encouraged to bring the new ideas fro the conference back to their villages and act as positive agents of change in the community.

Soccer is a great medium to start the discussion on gender equality. We also featured a career panel of successful working women from the region to inspire the group.

Beautiful Pulaar beads.

New friends and gorgeous smiles.

Presenting the awards and certificates

Thanks to Peace Corps Senegal, The Soul Project, and generous friends at home for the support!

Bring the Senegalese Heat

As the obtrusive heat rolls back in

tireless

and greedy

And the dirt clings to our sweaty bodies

creating an unshakable bodysuit of filth

I try to digest the why

Why has this pilgrimage left an everlasting impression on my soul?

Connections

Human

and Earth.

These People--

So distinctly different from me,

Yet they are mine.

Acceptance.

The overwhelming gratification of being included in something so beautifully foreign.

Family

Unmitigated.

This land--

Rich with ancient history.

Bold and destructive.

Alive.

Tradition.

Deep and powerful,

of which I have only brushed the surface.

Connections.

Holding my radiant mini-me.

Cool and collected despite the temperature - Baatoohooma and Mariatou

Aunt and niece - I love how relationship structures are so different here. You may be older than your uncle and raised by your cousin. But no matter what there is an easy familiarity between generations.

Isa, child number 3, holding Mane, child number 6.

#babyphat

Angelic.

Futbol with the local boys - a daily occurrence.

Eating "tangalos" or hard candies - the best!

It is pretty wild that I'be been living in Senegal now for 1.5 years. Trippy to think about. But seriously awesome. Send me a letter - -

Lauren Thomas, PCV

B.P. 320

Tambacounda, Senegal

West Africa

Portraits of my Family

Returning to my village this time felt different. Something was off. Or was it the opposite? Nothing was off. I didn't feel anxious. I didn't feel awkward. I felt like I was home.

The change was slight, but significant.

These people running to greet me and welcome me home are my family.

I am one of them.

PORTRAITS OF MY FAMILY

NENE SALIMATA DIANE (33) - THE WARRIOR

Mother of seven. Uneducated. Illiterate. Rich with knowledge beyond formal education. Opportunist. Survivalist. Will do anything to help her family, no matter how brash or embarrassing. Graceful and deliberate in the way she nurtures her family. Married and pregnant before her 16th birthday. Wants more for her children.

MANE GORY (3) - THE INDEPENDENT WOMAN

Sassy. Boisterous. Gets what she wants. Incredible Vocabulary. Everyone takes care of her, but no one watches her. Roams freely. Fetches her own water. Makes her own decisions. Violent. Adorable. Temperamental. Genius. 

DAHABA GORY (5) - THE (CRAZY) NUT

Constantly covered in dirt. Always starting brawls with the neighborhood kids. Craves the attention that the baby receives, but no longer holds that place. Wild. Uncontrollable. Fragile.

SEN BAATOOHOMA GORY (9) - THE CHAMELEON

Hasn't decided who she wants to be yet, but has made the astute observation that it is up to her. Watches. Waits. Speaks rarely around strangers. Eerie calm for a little girl. Mind always working. Wallflower. Set to bloom into a strong young woman.

ISA GORY (11) - THE ACROBAT

Stoic. Forgotten middle child. Ready to impress girls. Ready for responsibility. Loves to wrestle. Sharp-witted. Incredible break dancer.

HABBY GORY (13) - THE PRINCESS

Hungry for attention. Devastatingly gorgeous. Trying to find her place in the world. Fight starter. Fake cryer. Second mother to her siblings. Gemini-like contrast between her immature tantrums and wise beyond her years poise. Sometimes I forget that we are not the same age, then I remember that she is still a child. The attention she gets from men in their 30s and 40s makes me cringe. This sort of inappropriate behavior from older men to pre-teen girls is disgustingly common and one of the things I like least about Senegal.

PAPE GORY (17) - THE LEADER

Quiet. Strong sense of self. A man, despite his age. Protector. Adorably kind to his little sister Mane. Silently carries the expectations of the oldest child. Excels in school and a pride of his parents.

 

SOULEYMAN GORY (45) - THE PROVIDER

Monsieur le Mayor. A Pillar. Not easily shaken. Doesn't raise his voice. Almost always speaks in a near whisper. Loves his wife. One of the only Senegalese men I have ever seen show affection to his wife in public. Frustrated with the near non-existent job opportunities in Senegal. Wants more for his children.

MARIATOU GORY (1 month) 

My namesake. Don't know anything about her personality yet, but isn't she adorable?!

Happy Holidays from Senegal: How you can help!

This year has been full of new encounters, from beautiful traditions to heart-breaking social conventions. I am still sorting out right from wrong, a process that becomes increasingly complicated as my understanding of and respect for Senegalese culture deepens.

As I have mentioned to many of you before, the area of development I have become most passionate about is gender equality. In preparing for the Peace Corps, I braced myself for extreme heat, weird food, and isolation. All centered on myself. I had no idea that the most difficult part would be witnessing the overwhelming inequality faced by women and girls in rural Senegal. As a foreigner working for an aid organization, I am in some ways spared from this treatment, but it is frustrating and painful to watch my sisters and friends treated with disrespect and often violence. Most girls in my village get married at 14 and start having children right away without the opportunity to continue their education.

Behavior change is an extremely difficult and slow process, but it has to start somewhere. I am impressed by Peace Corps Senegal's Girl's Empowerment Camps and this year have decided to organize the Father-Daughter Leadership Conference in my region.

We will invite 28 middle-school girls and their fathers to participate in sessions on goal-setting and action plans for the future, reproductive health and nutrition, and the dangers of early marriage and childbirth. For many of these girls, it will be the first time they have left their village and meeting other motivated girls from around the region will build confidence and encourage continued education.

We need to raise about $3000 to put on this conference, and are counting on donations from friends and family at home to make it possible!

Please follow this link to donate: https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=14-685-009


Here are some recent photos of what I've been up to:

At the Tambacounda Marathon for Girl's Education with Peace Corps Country Director Chris Hedricks and US Ambassador to Senegal Lewis Lukens

Hanging out with my brother Dahaba and our cousins Dahaba Keeba (Old Dahaba) and Housseinou

Awarding scholarships to driven students at the school in my village

Again, here is the link to donate to the Father-Daughter Leadership Conference:  https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=14-685-009

THANK YOU AND MERRY CHRISTMAS ! :)

Early Marriage, Mangroves, and Lions.

My eyes saturate with tears. Empathy is an odd thing. I do not understand why sometimes it overwhelms me to my core, and other times it passes right by me, leaving me feeling nothing.

Her story does not come close to some of the horrifying injustices I have witnessed or hear of, but for some reason, it strikes me deep down. 

I ask Mariyama her age, she says she does not know. Most people in my village don't. We reason out that she had her first child when she was 15 years old, and he is now 8. Her other children are 5, 2, and 1. That makes her 23 years old. The same age as me.

What if I was born here, in this village? A different life flashes before my eyes. Marriage to a much older man in my early teens. The terror as I anticipate sleeping with this man for the first time. It isn't rape, is it? He is my husband. I do not fight it. But I do not like it. The strain on my body, bearing children as soon as I am biologically ready. Being forced to drop out of school, if I have not already. Never learning to read or write. Maybe I am the third wife. My husband rotates between which wife he beds each night. But he pays special attention to me, because I am the newest. Now I have four children. I am 23 years old. I am hardened. 

This fleeting memory of another life hits me like a brick the moment I deduce that Mariyama and I are the same age. My eyes saturate with tears.

* I do not mean to villanize Senegalese men, or claim that all Senegalese couples do not marry for love. My host parents certainly love each other, but I do not know if that happened before their marriage, or grew over the years. Every marriage I have seen in the past year has been the archetype of the young teen marrying the much older man she barely knows. Recently, this was the case with my beautiful 14 year old cousin Diuma. I'm not sure if I feel guilt for inaction, or just general sadness, but every time I think about it, it makes me queasy. 

My host cousin Diuma

A stranger from another village asks to marry Diuma. Her and her family accept, but a couple days later, she changes her mind. She is scared and she doesn't want to leave her family and her village. And she is 14 years old. She barely even knows this man. This shames her family. She is a good daughter, and does not want to shame her family. So she marries him.

I tell my host mother that this is wrong, and makes me feel deeply sad. She says there is nothing I can do.

Should I have done more? Could I have? I almost feel like I have betrayed a friend. I have not seen her since.

Sometimes, I feel utterly helpless. Writing down and sharing my feelings helps me sort through my thoughts.

On a lighter note... Mangrove Reforestation

Mangroves are unique species that thrive where fresh water meets salt water in the Sine Saloum Delta in Senegal. They provide essential habitat to many wildlife species, combat erosion, and bolster soil fertility. Mangrove reforestation efforts have also been suggested to fight climate change.

We travel by shaky boat across deep blue water to the island.

We push in unison to remove the incredibly heavy beached boat with our 120,000 mangrove propogules from the sand.

We lazily float in the cool salty delta as the crimson sun begins to set.

We wake at the crack of dawn, working together in a massive assembly line to unload the propogules, then carry them what seems like miles on our heads to the reforestation site.

We wade barefoot through the muddy ankle deep marshes, destroying our feet on the upturned shells.

The sun glistens off the sandy marshes creating a metallic sea as we finish planting seemingly endless propogules with help from over 100 Peace Corps Volunteers, staff, and local villagers.

It is beautiful and satisfying.

Playing With Lions: less frightening than it probably should have been.

Rainy Season: Trees and Parties

Things are really looking up as Ramadan gracefully takes its exit and we remember how much more personable we are when eating breakfast and lunch and drinking water as we please.

About the same time we welcome food and water back into our lives rainy season arrives with force, as if the congratulate us for our hard work.

Rainy Season means it is time to start outplanting the trees in our nurseries and is the busiest and most exciting time for us Agroforestry Volunteers.

Even though Rainy Season is notorious for its hellish skin infections and moldy huts and clothing, it is my favorite season here in Senegal.

It is still over 100 degrees, but when the humidity becomes unbearable and the sky turns an ominous dark purple, you know a storm is brewing. I have never seen such awe-inspiring lightning shows, Back to back to back to back, the lightning dances and ignites the sky from all angles.

Rain brings life and action to Senegal. The wells fill back up and the fields are full. It cuts the heat and reminds us that there is respite from the oppressive sun. The simple pleasure of showering in the cool rain ALMOST makes me forget to torture of hot season.

Korite: Celebrating the end of our 30 day fast and symbolizing clean beginnings and pure faith.

Fresh Blood and Baking Bread: The first things I smell as my host mother wakes me up screaming, Mariatou, come watch the sacrifice!

The Celebration, In Brief

Inharmonious clash of flashy fabrics

Fresh braids and aching scalps

Joy,

In the rare treat of red meat

In the graceful prayers

In the vivacious dance circles

Endless feasting

Family

TRANSPLANT v. [trans.] move or transfer (something) to another place, typically with some effort or upheaval

Yeah, TREES!

Transplanting Acacia Mellifera for a live fence

Plantin' trees with a baby on my back

My namesake Mariatou

Mango Trees.

On Fasting, Oppression, and Circles

1. Ramadan

30 days. Sunrise to sunset. No food. No water. I find it incredible that millions of people submit themselves to this ritual every year. I find it even more incredible that my friends and family here in Senegal fast in the stifling heat while still working tirelessly in the fields. Why?, I wonder. So I ask.

I ask my host family, why do you fast? What does Ramadan mean to you?

It is a cleansing. It is a spiritual and physical purification. It is a transformation in our hearts. It is a time of serious reflection. What have we done to make ourselves impure? Surely, many things. Have we mistreated our children? Been unkind to our neighbors? Overlooked those less fortunate in a time of need? We reflect. And we abstain. Not just from food and drink. We abstain from using profanity. From negative or spiteful thoughts or words. We abstain from sex. We abstain from indulgence.
When we break our fast after sundown the whole community bonds in the completion of this ritual and gives thanks to Allah for all of our blessings.

I find this explanation beautiful and relevant. I tell my family I will attempt to fast with them, but I am not sure how long I will last because I have never done something like this before. They say not to worry, just do my best and that is all that matters.

2. Comfort

I have had it my entire life.

Physical and Emotional.

But I only just began ruminating on the significance. 

soft pillows

education

air conditioning

unconditional support

nourished potential

burritos.

Here in its absence, its past glory in unobscured. Here in the comfort void.

It often feels impossible.

On the brink of a precipice.

Inexorable heat a filth.

Suffocating oppression of women.

I want to scream.

I want to make everything right.

It is not that easy.

But I am here. I am a part of this. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

It is drastic, It is awful, It is remarkable.

In a year and a half I will return to the world of comfort. I will drink it up. But I will not forget what it is like to be without.

3. Circles

You are raised in a small town. Everyone looks the same. They have the same color eyes. They have the same color hair. They have the same color skin. Everyone is the same religion. This is not a choice, but a fact. As every person you have ever known has told you.

You are male. It is written that men are more capable than women, and that women must always be subservient to men. Both your mother and father reinforce this fact through their actions and words. You observe your father ordering your mother and his other wives around like slaves. Women are MEANT for cooking and cleaning and serving. This is a fact. Every other family you know functions like this. You did not chose to be born into this life. You literally know nothing else.

A stranger visits your town. She has different skin and different eyes and different hair. You call her mean names and point and laugh at her. Along with everyone else in your town. No one tells you this is wrong.

You do not have a television and you have never seen the internet. You have never even been exposed to the idea that this is not the way it has to be.

As a child your mother and father beat you when you acted out. Now as a father, you do the same to your children. You treat your wives as a second class and teach your daughters that their place is in the kitchen.

How can you be blamed?