Sticks and Paddles

In a row boat that I mentioned (see post below). The rowers use no paddles rather sticks from trees to steer. The river is not shallow so I don't understand how sticks provide leverage to navigate. But it works, and I'm with it. This kid was especially good at rowing. We were traveling in swift water across a broad river and he got us there safely without much freaking out (on my part).

Don't Rock My Boat, 'Cause I don't need my boat to be rocked

My road during the rainy season. Water washes out bridges regularly during the "saison des pluies". The trucks in which I usually ride become boats to cross the washed out roads. It's always fun and exciting until you get into a boat made from a trunk of a tree and it starts to wobble from the myriad of people inside. Once, I inquired about the safety of the pirogues to my dad and he said, quite reasonably, that, "Girl, they've been doing that since the dawn of man. Of course it's safe." I couldn't agree more. But every time I do it, I'm scared as hell.

Becoming a Writer

Black Arabia

Here I am hanging out with my friends in my regional capital. Ethnically, they are black Moors whose culture closely identifies with Arab culture. Most black Moors do not identify themselves as black, which directly juxtaposes their social position in Mauritania. In 1989, there was a brutal war here between blacks and Moors. To relate the fear and bloodshed of the time, imagine a routine market run and being killed on the road because of one's skin color. Incredulously committed to Arab culture, black Moors still refuse to identify with black Africans albeit similar, oppressive treatment from the government. The unifying facet of cooperation is their religion. Everyone, black, black Moor or Moor, is Muslim.

Black Tongue

Here is just an example of odd sicknesses that I've had here. It started with strep throat. I had it for about 4 days, then one morning I wake up to a black tongue and a mountain range of bumps on the back of my throat. This picture was taken after 3 days of having a black tongue. Before, my entire tongue was covered with warts and lesions. DISGUSTING! I'm still alive, though, so I can't complain.
The doctors never figured out what caused it. I didn't expect them to.

Freedom Town

Trekking along in Nouahdibou in the North of Mauritania. This city serves as a transit point for Europeans who travel over land to West Africa, as well as, illegal immigrants trying to go to Europe. Although Mauritania is an Islamic Republic, Nouahdibou has regular bars, and an abundance of prostitutes. The climate is ideal for "audacious" tourists (meaning those who think going to Africa is daring and bold) and the beach is close. Many volunteers placed there find it luxurious because of all the amenities (electricity, alcohol, sinks, toilets, cold sodas). I must admit in the beginning I was envious, but in my village I have learned how to do and deal when one doesn't have. Besides, what's the use of living in an under-developed country with all the amenities of the States? THe Nouahdibou volunteers have different experiences. I find they are not as integrated into the community and barely speak a local or national language. Contrarily, village volunteers are much more integrated and can speak either one or both of the national/local languages. For me, I rather learn and work through the sometimes unbearable frustrations of living in a village than have the easy, complaisant and unchallenged city living in Mauritania. I must say, when I do get have access to the cold beers and air conditioned rooms, I appreciate them much more. I assume it depends on perspective.