Update from Africa

Boa Tarde Amigos!! Here’s a sort of lengthy update on my status in Cape Verde. Someone send me some pics or bits of news, interesting or otherwise. Pretty much the OLY English I’m exposed to are my books (which I’ve already finished reading), and when I read or write an e-mail, so get busy typing. It’s funny how the mind craves English when it’s removed from you. Sometimes I go a little nuts from all the Kriolu and have to go walk to the closest other volunteer’s house just to hear a little “Hey what’s up” slang.

Things here are still going well. CV only gets 3 months with any rainfall, and they’re about to get them here at the end of this month. Consequently, there is a LOT of work going on to get ready for them. (The entire country revolves around these next couple months of rain.) Everyone is busy planting corn and beans. Many people, my host parents included, walk an hour or more to places where they can get work planting in the fields. I’ve volunteered to go with them tomorrow afternoon, and they can keep whatever money I can make for them, which will probably be about 75 cents. My Mai also takes water and food to the fields, which she sells to the other workers for about 2 cents. The women here are so amazing. Mai is 72 years old and carries a huge sack of cornbread-like stuff (cous-cous) in her hands while balancing a 50 pound drum of water on her head….and carries this, more or less) up an mountain and back down the other side. It’s beyond belief. Also, my neighbor had a baby 2 days after we got here, and the mother was back working in the fieldss the very next day. SO TOUGH.

On that note, they have a custom here that the baby is not named or really welcomed into the family until the seventh day. It’s nursed and changed and held of course, but nobody really speaks of the baby, like an elephant in the room.) After the seventh day, they have a big dinner and invite everyone over to meet the baby and announce the name. It’s to do with the high infant mortality rate here I think and weird to see. Another thin weird to see is the way kids are raised. It REALLY puts Darby’s life in perspective when I see kids her age around here. Girl’s her age are already learning to balance objects on their heads over here. Kids usually walk barefoot through the dirt and cobblestone streets, even though they’re scalding hot. I guess they build calloused feet because I can’t even stand to sit on them with pants on.

That’s another weird thing about this place. NOTHING is allowed to be put on the floor, and you’re certainly not allowed to sit on the floor. If you ask the locals, they say it’s because the floor is dirty, which makes me laugh because they’ll tell you this while they wipe their eyes or handle their food right after working with the pigs or cows or chickens or goats. There is also a shortage of chairs around here (almost no wood remember?) so there is a LOT of standing around and I’ve already learned not to carry anything with me, lest I be made to stand around holding it for hours at a time.

There is a definite hygiene problem here, although they’re completely unaware of it so maybe its no problem at all. (This is one of the many dilemmas of a Peace Corps volunteer…when are you helping and when are you adding to the problems??) Cuts and scrapes go unattended in all but the richest families. I used my Peace Corps medical kit to treat a huge gash on the leg of this 8 year old girl yesterday…she had tripped and fell off her porch. She freaked out and I think her parents thought I was hurting her, until they saw how much better the cut looked…at which point they tried to give me a chicken. There are kids here with what I think must be sinus infections…lots of stuff running our of their noses, and they definitely don’t have tissues or napkins to wipe them on, so you’ll sometimes see little kids with lots of snot on their face or shirt. Anyway…don’t get the wrong idea…it’s not like this place is a cesspool or that there is no medical care, it’s just that the problems that I see really leap out at me and make an impression. There is actually a full time nurse here in the village with basic first aid supplies, and a doctor that comes several days a month. It’s a free service, but the people just aren’t educated enough to take advantage of it.

The other big news is that on Friday I travel to Santo Antao, where I’ll spend a few days with a volunteer already living there, seeing what they do on a daily basis. It’s the big green, lush mountainous island that I’ve been hoping to get assigned to since I started learning about CV. There is a huge agricultural push going on there, with drip irrigation, micro-credit financed farm, honey collection projects, jam making projects, coffee production, Grog of course and a big influx big eco-tourism, as Europeans apparently go there pretty regularly to kike and camp in the mountains. I think its also sort of a test run to see how I’ll adapt to the language there, which is a very different dialect of Kriolu than the one I’m currently learning. I’m definitely the best student in my Kriolu class, and am even able to have some conversations with my neighbors and family. (As long as they are all in the present tense, which can be difficult, although I’ve found that as long as I insert a time reference “tomorrow” then I can just keep talking in the present tense, and they get that I mean in the future. Pretty much everyone laughs when I talk. I’m sure I sound like a drunk 3rd grader.) Its fun though, and I’ve found a neighbor called Suzi that helps me practice each night. She looks through my school notes, infers what we’ve been learning, and then she tries to make me practice it. Her whole family (like 10 people) sits around and watches this process, laughing every time I start to talk. Too funny. I’m already feeling at home in my village as well. When I walk to or home from school, all the kids are yelling “Keli!!!!!” and running up and giving me high fives.
Another funny thing is how the Fonze, from Happy Days, has invaded CV culture. I don’t know if its really from the Fonze, but everyone here gives everyone the thumbs up sign. Even during a formal greeting, it would be something like “good Morning to you Mam,” and you would give her a thumbs up, and she’ll say “good Morning to you as well sir,” and also stick her whole arm out with the thumbs up. People do it driving by, passing you on the street, pretty much its always appropriate to give someone the thumbs up…Its going to be a hard habit to break when I come home.

Children from My Village

These are some of the kids in my village. The little girl singing (if Iºve got the right Picture) is a little firecracker, and the most outgoing little kid Iºve ever met.

Hi guys.

So I got an e-mail asking a little more about the “paying compliments” and greetings on the street phenomenon, so I thought I’d give you a sample. When you pass any stranger, much less a vizinho (neighbor) on the street, this might be a typical exchange…

Bon Dia!
Bon Dia!
Nha dam Bensao.
Nha Dam Bensao.
Tudo Dreto?
Tudo Dreto…y Bo?
N sta fixi. Bo sta fixi?
N sta fixi. Tudo dreto. Modi Ki Bu Sta?
N sta Bom. N sta Bom. Y bo?

So that gets the greeting out of the way, and then you have this whole other conversation about how well you slept, what you had for breakfast, what your plans for the day are, etc. etc. It literally takes about 5 minutes to say Hi. There REALLY is no such thing as being in a hurry here. Consequently, nothing starts on time. Yesterday I was invited to come and watch the soccer game in my village, and was told it would start “promptly” at 2pm. Having already assimilated much of the Cape Verdian culture, I showed up at 3:30 and was the only one there. I think they actually kicked it off about 5. Crazy.

Also, I didn’t want to give the wrong impression about my host family being rich. They are by the standards of Cha di Tanque (my little village) but to put it perspective, today Mani (my Pai) and Palmeira (my Mai), who are both in their 70’s, got up, made me breakfast, then walked half way up a mountain to find a tree, chopped off two limbs with a machete, stripped the bark, made two splints, split the limbs, hammered on a hoe to each of them, then hammered in the splints. Then they came back, made me lunch, then walked about 45 minutes to the “Campo” where they will be out in the sun digging holes in the parched earth for the rest of the day, planting beans and probably getting paid about 50 cents for all their efforts. The people in Cape Verde are TOUGH.

Txio for now. Someone send me some pictures of something!!!!

All My Love

Hi guys! Just a small update. Today we took a group field trip to a place called Cidade Velha. The first outpost established on any of the Cape Verde Islands, it served as a fort and slave trading post for the Portuguese. Themost striking thing about the place (besides the view of the ocean) is the Pillory, which is a huge white marble column (topped by a cross of course) to which were tied tens of thousands of African slaves. After disembarking from the slave ships from Sengal, they were paraded and tied to the pillory, where they were inspected by potential buyers. It also served as the public whipping post for slaves who escaped and were recaptured or were otherwise resistant. It’s a powerful place, and at first I was surprised that it wasn’t the first thing tore down when they finally ousted the Portuguese in the 1970’s. (That’s not a mistake, it really was only in the 70’s that Cape Verde gained it’s independence from Portugal). In addition, there are still the remains of a convent and church, the slave quarters and the fort itself, as well as the town which group up around the fort. Really interesting history here, and one that actually parallels that of the United States. Eventually the slaves revolted and ran up the ribiera (valley) in the picture to the Forna (hinterland) where they hid and finally settled in the surrounding mountains here on Santiago, or fled to the other islands and put up a pretty much constant rebellion against the Portuguese.

We also got to visit a farm there where they harvest sugarcane and distill it into the famous Grogu of Cape Verde. They gave us all a sample at the end, and all I can say is that its lightning in a bottle…or coconut shell as it happened. Its like drinking fire, and goes straight to your head and gut. I can’t imagine how anyone drinks more than a thimbleful. It was no-shit Africa hot today, and a ton of people are burned, but I was smart and brought a huge hat.

Followed that up with a little Tabanka lesson. It’s one of several Cape Verdian traditional dances, but it the most fun you can have on two legs. The kids here learn it before they can walk and mostly it involves shaking your ass, but in a way that no white person can even begin to imagine. The locals, or Host County Nationals (HCNs we call them) tie this traditional piece of cloth (panditerra) right around the meat of their butts, and proceed to bootyquake in ways that would make porn star blush, all without moving any other part of their body….they even balance things on their head while they’re doing it. It’s amazing and TOTALLY HOT (although they explained the dance’s origins to us and it’s really nothing to do with erotica). We all had to try it at some point and I can tell you right now that I am going to be one booty-shaking bastard by the time I come home. In Cape Verde, if you don’t dance, you don’t exist. EVERYTHING here revolves around music, singing and dancing. As you might imagine, I’m feeling right at home already. Anyway, there’s your little Cape Verdian culture lesson for the day.

I’ve been doing a great job making friends and getting to know my village here already. I’m about a 10 minute walk from the closest volunteer (a nice gal from South Jersey) and I walk to her house each morning to pick her up, then we walk another 10 minutes to the school where we go to learn Creolu. Along the way we pass, among other things, goats, pigs, chickens, cows and ladies (NEVER men) balancing enormous objects on their heads, on their way to the market or the water well. It’s very surreal. The man in charge of my sector of Peace Corps (Youth and Community Development Mobilization) has inferred that if I keep it up, I’ll get my choice of islands to serve on. Right now I’m leaning towards the lush mountains, streams and fruit trees of Santo Antao, or the volcano island of Fogo where they grow coffee and make wine. I know I’ve said it before already, but the people here are ridiculously friendly. You actually have to pay a compliment to ANYONE you see passing by. It takes FOREVER to get anywhere.

I hope everyone is doing great and haven’t forgotten about me already...I miss you!

All My Love

Mi Casa!!!

Hi guys. Here~s the latest update from Africa. Hope things arew well for everyone. Today Iºm taking my first baby steps out of my village and into the nearest vity....Assomada. Africa is....well...itºs certainly Africa. Txao!!

Things here are amazing. My host mom and dad (Palmeira y Mani) are about 75 years old. They have 5 grown sons, all of whom work and live in the main city of Praia. The first night was VERY SCARY. The three of us just staring at each other for about 15 minutes. Complete silence. Fear and Panic. Then came the food. Tons of rice, fish, salad, bread, juice, coffee, beans, corn , more fish and more rice. A Feast. All of it tasty, and a little weird. After I ate all of that, she cleared the table and did the dishes. Bout 20 minutes after that, one of her sons, who happens to be the UN representative for CV, came over and we had the whole dinner over again. N sta fartu. That was the first sentence of Ceiolu that I learned. I am full. Anyway, Palmeira is the richest lady in Cha di Tanque, a small village where I am staying. They’re dirt poor by any but African standards, but live well for this place. During the 2 dinners, 37 neighbors came over to meet me. No shit. 37. I know because I wrote down all their names. (Which they all thought was a little weird.)

The house is amazing. It’s a big square with the middle cut out and open to the outside. From the rua (street) you enter a sitting room with 4 chairs. This is the ONLY room where members of the opposite sex can talk to each other alone. (First rule of the house) From there you enter the opened square I mentioned which is a tile concrete floor with broken bits of colored tile laid about, and huge pretty plants, including a papaya tree, all around. To the left is the cusina (kitchen) about 5 X 5 feet, to the right, the master bedroom (10 X 10) and a water closet (4 X 4). There is water in the toilet, which comes from an underground tank. You pump a bunch of water up to the roof with a lever, and that operates the plumbing (sorta) for the day. We get to flush it once per day, and there’s enough water for 3 cold showers, about 2 minutes each. (2nd rule of the house) Other side of the square is the alfombra fresca. A porch covered with empty bags and hay woven together to form a thatch roof, held up by sticks, under which sits a table for 8. Beyond that lies a second cusinia, the one where they use fire to cook fish, boil water for coffee and tea, etc. Then there is the jardin (garden). Papaya, Mango, Banana, Coconut, Corn, Beans, Kale, and amillion other things. 3 chikens, 3 rabbits, a turkey, 2 goats and a pig. I literally wake up in the mornings, pick a mango or papaya of the tree and eat it for breakfast while Palmeira cooks me up an ovu (egg), coffee and some fish stew (cachupa).

Best of all is my room. Up a set of steep white stairs from the open square of the cenete of the house, I have a rooftop apartment all to myself with a view of the mountains and the entire ribiera (valley). I have a patio all to myself where I sit and play my guitar and read in my chair when I’m not studying or over at the neighbor’s house playing with their kids. (I’m learning more from them than I do at school!) My room has a door with a lock and key that only I have. It is about 8 X 10 painted white with flowered curtains on both of the windows. I keep them open all the time and a really nice cool breeze blows through them all day and all night. Fiku, the dog, sleeps on the patio outside my room at night. I have a bed to sleep on and a second bed on which all of my things are laid out, as well as a desk and chair, and some flowers in a cup. There is a light that works if I need it, although I’ve been so tired that I usually go to bed as soon as it gets dark, around 730. I’ve put some pictures here (I think) so you can see all that I’m talking about.

I’ve been here only 3 or 4 days (already lost count) and already I’m able to at least make all the basic communication. (Me hungry, me thirsty, how are you, whats your name etc.)

One quick funny story….So I’ve been going around saying “Boa Tarde. Modi Ki bu Xioma? N Xioma Caley”, which means Good Afternoon, whats your name, my name is Caley. Turns out Ke Li (pronounced Caley) litrerally translates into “What is this?” So, I’ve been going around the village saying “Good afternoon, whats your name? My name is What is This?” LOTS of people looking at me like I’m the dumbest thing that ever came to Africa. So funny.

Anyway. I’m SO happy I came. Africa is everything I thought it would be and much much more. It’s poor and rugged beyond description, but beautiful as well. I can’t begin to tell you how vibrant, beautiful, pleasant and polite the people in this village are. Everybody sings all day long. Amazing.

I want for nothing, have more than I need, and have never been so happy.

All My Love.


ps I think the pictures arenºt working becuase theyºre huge files. I may try otra vez when I get back to a computer.