Wrapped Tight

Me wrapped in my typical Mauritanian travel gear. As I say below (view sandstorm post), sand gets into and onto everything. When traveling in the back of a pickup, the wind in combination with dust creates a serious problem for la rhume (allergies). I have bad allergies so I have to wrap up tight in order to ensure when I arrive at my destination, I'll be well. I traveled without a wrap only one time and when I got to my regional capital, I was a shade lighter from all the dust that had accumulated. I had sand in my ear for weeks. Needless to say, I won't make that mistake again.

Sand Blasted

A wall of Sand. Usually these occur before a big storm during the rainy season. If you get caught outdoors in this, most likely you'll find sand in crevaces of your body that you didn't know you had. It's pretty tight.
Picture compliments of Ben Bergen, a Peace Corps volunteer.

On the Road again...

Here I am on Taxi brousse. Pick up trucks are the principal mode of transportation in Mauritania. The cab seats 4 people and the back seats up to 25 people. Usually there are goods (sacks of potatoes, onions, gasoline, etc...) that serve as one's cushion. It's pretty uncomfortable though not unbearable. I've found ways to deal with the mayhem of taxibrousse travel...zoning out into space. Then you're there (wherever you're going) before you know it. Recently, I was riding taxibrousse to Kaedi, which is about 150 km from my regional capital. It was midnight and we still hadn't made it to Kaedi although we left at 4 in the afternoon. On the road, something went wrong with the rim of our front right tire and the rim fell off taking the tire with it. The chaffeur lost control of the car and sparks started to fly creating a small fire on my side of the car. Because the doors don't usually open from the inside (broken door handles), I had to jump from the car via window. It was the scariest most exhilirating experience I've ever had in Mauritanian. Afterwards, some locals found my panic hilarious. I still don't understand why.

Fight the Power!

A rally in Kaedi. I am unsure what these people
were protesting specifically but I can safely assume that it was a
political rally (it took place right before provincial elections).
Sometimes political rallies can turn violent as they did last year. In
November of 2006, a friend and the nephew of my village mayor, was
stabbed to death during a political dispute. InKaedi , a man was shot
and killed. Relative to American crime, this does not seem like a big
deal. But in Mauritania, violent crimes are always a shock and a
tragedy, especially in a village as small as mine.

Temple of My Familiar

The oldest mosque in Kaedi, a regional capital in southern Mauritania. Mosques are a focal point of Mauritnanian culture and livelihood. Five times a day an Iman,
a Muslim holy man, leads the community in prayer call which summons
worshippers by loud speaker. In my village, my host father is an Iman and every morning I awake to the first prayer call of the day at 5:30 in the morning. Often times the Iman will disclose local happenings which serves as some villagers' only source of news within and outside their communities. After all, Mauritanian is an Islamic Republic. No separation between church and state. Everybody born here must be Muslim. It's the law.

The Sanctuary

Here is the hospital at which I work. I have mixed emotions about working as a Health volunteer. Sometimes I find it difficult to fulfill my Peace Corps duty. I understand that I have a vague commitment of contributing something to the bigger picture of humanity but I still can't figure out what that is. What exactly is the nature of my role? I work in a hospital and I have zero medical experience. So what exactly am I supposed to do? If my joining Peace Corps. was simply a matter of patriotism, I should have stayed in the States. That realization further convoluted my understanding of a Peace Corps. volunteer. I was and am confused about the nature of my duty. On the other hand, I am grateful to work in such a unique environment, learning a new language and gaining incomparable experience. Just the other day, I found someone in Harlem who is from region where I live. We spoke in his local language for over an hour. My volunteership was finally validated and my training and hard work had materialized. That brief interaction helped me to realize that Peace Corps. is paying off...I guess.

The Road to Prosperity

This is the road to the fields where most people in my village tend to their farms bringing food back for the family. Mauritanians eat what they produce in the fields. A lack of productivity or a skimpy rainy season causes families to starve. Ironically, this is the same road to the district hospital.