The good, the bad, and the really, really disgusting

The good:



Site Placement! Josh and I are going to Porto Novo, Santa Antao! Most of you know we really wanted to go to Santa Antao, so weºre thrilled. We had hoped to end up in Ponta de Sol, but there was no site there for a Youth Development Volunteer, so we have a site right across the ocean from Mindelo, the perfect spot to enjoy night life, buy supplies and celebrate Carnival. We will both be working at the Kamara, sort of like City Hall, but donºt know our jobs yet because weºre both starting a new site. More to come as we have info.



LPI Results. In order to swear in as volunteers we must pass the language test called the LPI and we must rank at Intermediate Mid. Well, at week 5 we took a practice test...and both Josh and I are already at that level, so all our worries about language have subsided. Now my goal is to reach Advanced Low before taking off for the North.


Weight loss! Yay, I was worried I would gain weight with all the rice, but so far, itºs going fast. Might need new clothes soon!

The rain. Ok, I hate rain, but itºs so needed in Cape Verde that you canºt help but be happy when you have as much as we are this year. Some years and on some islands, there is so little rain that the corn is scarce. Here, it is raining frequently. Itºs a wonderful thing.



Our community project. Itºs slowly coming together and we may even get money from the Kamara here to help with costs of painting the school. Some shops in Asomada gave us donations already, and now weºre just hoping for more. The younger kids are busy practicing their dance routines for the Youth Day, and we couldnºt be happier.

The bad:

The façade. I mentioned this before, but I want to talk about it a bit. From the sounds of my blog and other information out there about Cape Verde, it seems like a little slice of heaven. And in some ways, it truly is. Some of the islands are hot spots for European travelers and resorts are becoming more common on Sal and Boa Vista. You can get a lot of things here that youºd find in America, including spices and meats and Nutella and Cadbury chocolate (thank god). But behind the scenes, in the fora or even in the cities, there is rampant poverty. Social services is...well, I have heard people say at least you HAVE programs for youth and for poor people, but again, itºs a show in many ways. Infrustructure is lacking, bureaucracy is unbelievable and things just donºt get done, nor is there money to get things done. Unemployment is a major problem, especially with youth (here youth are considered ages 16 up to 26). Food is scarce, especially when there is a short rainy season. Water is expensive and limited, electricity is unreliable or non existant in nearly everywhere except large cities. Things are expensive. This is the biggest issue - there is stuff, but it costs basically the same or more than in the US, and given that people here make a tiny fraction of what we make at home...they are frequently unatainable. When you canºt afford to eat because food is too expensive, you canºt afford luxury items, like clothes. I have yet to have a meal without rice because it is filling and cheap.

The strange flipside to this is that status and appearence is very very important in Cape Verde. Many people who canºt afford food have cell phones, yet they donºt have any minutes to use them. Because so many Cape Verdeans live abroad, the clothes many do have are sent from Europe and America, contributing to the need for status. It may not make sense reading this, but it does when you live here, and you start to get a feel for how desperate the situation can really be for so many people. I know many people see this as Posh Corps or Beach Corps, but very soon, the international community is going to start withdrawing aid from CV given itºs move to a middle income country, and itºll take a tremendous amount of work to keep the country afloat.

Social services. We had an opportunity to visit an emergency center in Praia for kids who are in abusive homes, or who are abandoned or have parents who have mental health issues or use drugs. They have the capacity for 14 kids and there are 26 there currently. They only have one staff member on each day, and currently 8 of the residents are babies, including a premature 2 month old and a beautiful girl who has cerably palsey and is blind. She has been in this emergency shelter for three years. There is no intake process, no health care unless someone gets sick there...it was heartbreaking.

The mud. Yes, a lighter note, but all this rain and unpaved dirt roads leads to a ton of mud. Itºs driving me nuts.

The mosquitos. My ankles are a wreck.

The flies. It is...unbelievable the amount of flies here. They are everywhere. The rain brings a lot of things I could do without.

The ugly.

Ok, posh corps my butt. We have had in the last week the latest in a series of bug infestations. And I mean on peoples bodies. One guy and another woman had those wonderful flies that I talked about hatch on their clothes and crawl under their skin. The woman had ten of them. Basically they look like bug bites or boils, but have a little air hole on top. To get them out you have to put vaseline on them and wait for them to come up for air, then pull them out. They are basically maggots living under your skin. Lovely.

And poor Josh...weºre not sure how, but a tiny bug burrowed under his skin on the bottom of a toe. It looked like he had a wort, but when I started playing with it and trying to see what it was, it burst open and a zillion tiny eggs came out. The bug laid an egg sack in his toe. Unbelievable. It was oh so fun to be on the receiving end of that!

Time is short again, so Iºm off to brave the rain and mud. Today Iºm going to make tunafish sandwiches for my family. They are getting used to my food experimentation, though Iºm not sure how much they like it lol. Iºm happy to get a little American food in my system though (not complaining about CV food, I love it, especially the ROOSTER we had for dinner last night - I would have loved to be the one to kill it).

Ti logu,

Dove

Photo Links

So here are the rest of the photos from Tabugal:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157607023391201/

Iºve had other trainees say that their parents canºt see photos from staging any more - the links are further back on the blog but Iºll post them again for ease:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157606983632707/
Tabugal, Part 1

http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157606194740637/
Peace Corps Staging in Boston

For the family, here again are the links to going away parties and other things of interest:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157606162164951/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157606161851547/

http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157606158039010/

Mom, here are the pics of Aunt Annie:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157606157808394/

Ok thatºs it for photos now, on to the blog!

Happiness

It would be impossible to describe every aspect of life in Cape Verde, every experience we are having, every new discovery or self awareness, every joy and pain. Change happens daily, and time is flying by.

But there are some experiences that are so magical, so beautiful, yet so simple that they need to be described, even though no matter what words are used the experience will still be out of reach for the reader. Still, we try to convey and share what we can, because happiness is meant to be shared. And so, this blog is about my recent moments of happiness.

My first happiness is a path. One particular section of road that cuts the distance between my house and Josh’s in half. I suppose that in and of itself would be enough to make the path a happiness, but that is only a small part of it. The journey begins before this patch of land, perhaps at Josh’s house, after saying goodbye to Nana, the 103 year old grandfather that sits on the ground and who I am lucky enough to drink tea with. It continues as people shout goodbye and see you later and stay longer after me, even though I will most likely see them again in an hour or so, down the short dirt road, past the growing corn stalks where the road turns into cobblestone, down the hill and up the other side until you reach the beginning of this path, which starts among the overgrown plants and trees that have flourished during the rain season and provide ample breeding ground for the mosquitoes that love dining on my ankles. This is where the magic starts.

The beginning of the path is dense with vegetation, so dense that sometimes you can’t hear anything outside of it. It’s not a long distance, but there is a brief yet distinct feeling of being in a tropical rain forest. It’s almost as if the temperature changes and the humidity rises for this small walk. You hear the bugs and bees buzzing and clicking around you, and sometimes but not often, birds singing. And it’s a bit frightening, because of the way the plants rustle with hidden life and the subtle smell of rot and a feeling of not knowing if something could jump out at you at any time…

And then you step out and all of a sudden the sun is high above you and the path is clear and dusty and on either side of you are small but growing corn stalks and there, in the midst of this scene and the middle of this path, is the most amazing site: hundreds of small grasshoppers or crickets or other sort of small brown and green jumping type creatures with wings that click when they fly, that blend with the ground just enough that you don’t notice them there until you are about to step on them and they spring up in front of you, three or six or a dozen at a time, like fountains squirting water, forming arcs on the path, jumping one after another after another as if the sea is parting before you. All this accompanied by that light clicking noise that sounds like dainty faerie wings might sound if it were they instead of grasshoppers bounding around you, and for a moment you think maybe it is, maybe when I started on the path I was in one world and when I ended up on the other side of the dense plants I ended up in another where faeries do flit around and play on the path in front of you while you walk, and you smile because the sun is warm on your face and the corn is growing and the faeries or bugs or whatever they are, are crisscrossing patterns in front of you and it is a beautiful thing.

This is my most favorite part of every day.

My second happiness has much more to do with my village and the reason I joined the Peace Corps in the first place (not that I can possibly complain about all the wonderful aspects of Cape Verde, but as many of us are finding, much of the beauty and “posh-ness” of Cape Verde is a façade and behind that is a country very much in need of the skills and talents of PC volunteers…but that’s a different blog entry). Last Sunday, our group of Youth Development trainees had another meeting with the youth of Mancholy. Unbelievably, 21 youth showed up, ages 16 to 23 (youth in CV has quite a different meaning than youth in America). We talked with them about their lives, their wishes for their village and what activities they wanted to do with us. They worked together for over an hour to come up with ideas for a Youth Day we are hoping to put on for our PST project and seemed extremely enthusiastic. We agreed to open the school twice a week so that the youth could have access to it, we planned a hike (my third happiness as you’ll soon see) and hopefully we’ll be painting the wall of the school shortly. In short, we got a really good taste of the type of stuff we might be doing when we get to site, and we all came away from it energized and excited. This is why I joined the Peace Corps. This is the point where it all makes sense. This is what I spent 20 months of my life working towards.

My third happiness is…indescribable. The youth of Mancholy wanted to take us on a “walk” to a place called Tabugal. We weren’t quite sure what we were getting into, but here were the details we had: the hike was 1.5 hours one way (not bad), we were going to this really cool place where you could pick fruit off the trees and eat it, and there were monkeys. Similar to the place we’d imagined two weeks prior, but this time we had enough people to back it up that we thought we’d give it a go.

We arrived at 10am on Sunday morning with only 2 youth. In addition, several other PC trainees had signed up to go with us, but weren’t there. At about 10:30, our numbers had increased to 6 – three trainees and three youth. The youth assured us we would pick up more on the way. Okay. Oh, and by the way, we’d been hearing throughout the week that Tabugal was a three hour hike…some people even said 5 hours. And Helena, Josh’s mom, told us not to eat the fruit or swim (apparently now there was swimming) and that the monkey’s threw fruit at you…so things were looking a little grim. But we had promised we would go and were lugging gallons of water, so what the heck. We hit the road with apprehension in our hearts and a giant bag of pipoka (popcorn) in our backpack.

True enough, as we walked through Mancholy, more and more youth joined us. Soon we were up to about 10 youth and our group. It was our first time actually seeing the back end of Mancholy which was as spectacular as the rest of the view. Since Josh and I had taken up rock climbing, the hike was both more visually stimulating (given the awesome rocks we were passing…Johnny, you need to come visit and check this place out, tons of first assents for ya!) and easier, given much of the terrain was less than stable (ie I was glad I’d learned balance from climbing). We climbed down from Mancholy to the “bottom” (remembering how mountainous Santiago is) and continued the hike.

Our first “surprise” was the small waterfall that we were expected to navigate and climb down and across. Rather it was a 20 ft tall dam that you walked across, and on the other side you had to climb down some sloping yet stable rock, jump across a small creek, and continue close to the wall on the other side, cross back over and you’re there. Whether or not this sounds challenging, it was a surprise to us, and again I was thankful for the approaches I’d done with climbing – for me it was a breeze because I was confident in my balance and my feet (the shoes didn’t hurt either).

As beautiful as that scene was, on the other side was a staircase that led to something even more spectacular. The giant rock walls coupled with the cobblestone staircase, the sound of water trickling everywhere and the lush, tropical greenery…it took us a while to let it soak in. Whatever the rest of the day held for us, this made it worth it already, and we truly felt sorry that our fellow trainees missed out on this experience. Little did we know what was to come.
We continued our walk through thick vegetation and began to really realize what was happening. It was like on this island of little water, a rainforest had sprung up in the middle of nowhere, and there was a constant flow of water that we were following. The water, apparently, is a natural spring from the ground and feeds these miles of palm trees and orange trees and banana trees and mango trees and avocado trees and…the list goes on. It also houses the infamous fruit-throwing monkeys, which we were not fortunate enough to see as our group continued to grow until we were approximately 20 strong and not so quite. Where all these youth came from, we’re not sure, but we were thrilled to have them with us and to get to know them. They were amazing navigators and the most hospitable hosts you could hope for, and we now have some truly wonderful Cape Verdean friends.

After a couple of hours, we stopped at an old house for a break to eat the oranges we’d just picked off the trees, though we were fortunate that the sun was not so hot that day and the clouds were keeping us cool. We asked if we were here, if this was Tabugal, and we realized that Tabugal wasn’t a destination, it WAS the hike, the whole place since we’d hit the dam/waterfall was Tabugal. This also accounted for the confusion on time. It was an hour and a half to hike to Tabugal…then another two hours to hike THROUGH it…and another two hours to hike out. By this time none of that mattered, we were having the most amazing time, and yet the best was still yet to come.

I had brought my iPod with me and a speaker and we played music and danced and passed some snacks, and more youth joined in…apparently they had thought the day was excellent for a hike as well and we continued on with about 30 of us. A few minutes later, someone shoved a coconut in my hand. “Bebe” he said, and we all sipped fresh coconut water through a sugarcane straw, then broke it open to eat the flesh inside. It was delightful but disappointing as there was only one and so many of us to share. Wait wait, they told me, and 10 feet later we were standing in the middle of a shaded grove, watching one of our new friends climb 30 or 40 feet up a tree to fetch coconuts for us. Down they came, one after another after another, until we each had our own coconut and then some, and our friends began breaking and chopping them open with their huge knives (there are many knife wielding folks in Cape Verde), drinking them straight from the top or making sugarcane straws, drinking them dry and then breaking them open to eat. My wish for you all is to have this experience sometime in your life. Already, only a day later, it feels like a dream. What I wouldn’t give for a fresh coconut right now.

We hiked on, drinking in not only coconut water but the sights and sounds, scaling cliffs (not really), hopping over and through streams, running from random roaming cows (again, an exaggeration) and then stopped for lunch under and in a tree next to an old grogue house, where we ate and sang and danced some more (iPods are a wonderful invention). Everyone brought food and shared, enjoying the communal generosity of the Cape Verdean people that we have experienced since the day we arrived. Then, we started on the hour or so hike to the ocean…because it wouldn’t be an outing without a quick bath in the sea.

It’s good to have guides in Cape Verde, and to pay attention to warning signs in the ocean. For example, there were people already there, swimming in one particular place, then more people swimming about 100 feet away with no one in between. Stay close to us and don’t go far out, they told us, and we could feel the pull of the ocean even where we stood. Again our friends were looking out for our rather unschooled American behinds (it was rather embarrassing for them to take care of us as much as they had to on our hike, but the reality was everyone needs a guide their first time out, and we wouldn’t have ever known about this place to begin with if it weren’t for them). After our swim, we were a quick 20 minutes to Riberia di Barka, another town where PC trainees live. We stopped in for a quick cold, refreshing drink (ahhh I have found diet soda in CV and it is delightful) before hopping on a Hiace at 6pm, 8 hours later, bruised and scratched and sunburned and exhausted and exhilarated from the best day we have had here yet and easily one of the best days I’ve ever had in my life…which is saying a lot given the amount of fantastic days Josh and I have shared with each other.

I know this is long as my posts always are, but I hope sharing my happiness with you will bring a smile to your face…and possibly encourage a visit to the tiny specks in the middle of the Atlantic that we now call home.

(Another HI to Dacia’s mom, she’s doing awesome and yes, she enjoyed the hike as much as Josh and I did. And only fell once.)

Because we had so many amazing pics, I’m uploading them to Flickr so it takes up less space on the blog. Hopefully these few will give you enough of a taste to see more!



(These are only part of the photos right now, the rest Iºll have to upload to flickr later as Iºm out of time!)

http://www.flickr.com/photos/doveandjoshua/sets/72157606983632707/

Ti logu,
Dove (and Josh! He’s doing awesome too! I promise!)

Tabugal

Our first peril...

The most amazing sight.

We're not in kansas anymore...

Coconut anyone?

Ease on down the road...

Ola again from Cape Verde! First, hi to all the mom’s of other volunteers who are reading my blog! Don’t get too upset if your kids aren’t keeping a blog yet; training is unbelievably busy and crazy and I just happen to be one of those crazy people who get up at 6am on a Saturday to write this all out for you. Plus, lots of the other volunteers are much further away from internet café’s than we are, so they have less opportunity to upload stuff.

So before the good stuff (and pics of other volunteers for once), I thought I’d give a breakdown of a “typical” day in the life of a trainee (note: this is basically my typical day and many other volunteers are much different).

At 4am, the first animal wakes up. This is usually a rooster, unless it’s a cat or dog, in which case they have been barking or meowing since midnight off and on. I have found the best thing I brought with me to CV is earplugs (parents, send these to your kids as a welcome surprise!). The roosters continue until about 11am with their cock-a-doodle-do competition, meaning that one rooster will start, and another will answer, followed by another, so that there is rarely a break in their song. By around 6am, the goats join the chorus, and, because our house is one where people come to get water with their donkeys, they join in as well. Yippee.

On the fortunate nights where my earplugs don’t fall out, I’m up between 6 and 7. If I have time, I try to get some studying in of my flashcards, then iron my clothes for the day (something I never did at home but do here daily), make my bed, and get ready for my shower. Although I am very lucky to have running water and don’t have to take a bucket bath, I don’t have hot water, so every morning I am shocked awake by the cold water (with bucket baths at least you can boil the water to have a nice, warm bucket bath…then again, it is a bucket bath…). After that, I get dressed and have breakfast, usually either bread with cheese and a yogurt, or bread with egg and cheese. No complaints here, it keeps me going til lunch around 1. By 7:45 I’m off to class at another volunteers house (we rotate each week); for an hour we have a “cultural debrief” to talk about issues we might be having, followed by 2.5 hours of formal language class, followed by an hour of applied language in the community or with our host families, where we use our skills to talk to people. This is going much better than the beginning, and conversations are actually taking place; I think I can speak kriolu now nearly as well as I could speak French after 6 years in school (but that’s not really saying much). Lunch comes next, which for me is leftovers from the night before since my mom works as a hairdresser. And if I’m lucky, a short nap. Then back to school at 2 for more formal language, followed by more applied language or working on our projects or other activities for the Peace Corps. This week, for example, we have 6 things due, such as a small business questionnaire, a SWOT analysis, a journal entry from our INIDA trip, a community based survey, preparation for a PACA presentation and our appreciative inquiry interviews. Plus Tuesdays and Thursdays we have to travel to another city during the end of our lunch time and have 2 sessions on business or community development. And usually it’s really, really hot. See why we don’t really have time to write/call/blog?

We’re “done” technically at 5:30, but at that point we have to find time to continue our homework, study, talk with our families, wash clothes (by hand), help with dinner, watch nuvellas (really bad Portuguese soap operas, but a lot of families watch them and we’re supposed to integrate with our families, so…). Dinner is at 8, then if we don’t pass out right away we offer to help with dishes and/or get more studying in, and then pass out. I think I’m asleep by 9:30 each night, and I’ve found I need at least 9 hours of sleep, plus a nap, to function properly. This is far tougher than any semester at college, and every day provides new challenges.

Wednesdays are our center days, where we have to be in Asomada by 8am and spend the entire day in technical training sessions: health and safety, community development, adult learning styles, anything we might need to get buy in our first few months at site. These usually run into our lunch, so we don’t have time to head to the internet café after eating to check email (but we do have plenty of time to eat, don’t worry, and they give us two snack and coffee breaks too). It gets over around 5:30, though we frequently run over, so we don’t always have time after that to get to a computer either. This past week Josh and I were really late getting home because we lost track of time checking email and the news (um, btw, feel free to send us some updates on the election, the Times has been pretty sparse lately!). We’re lucky because we’re a married couple, so our host families assume we’re with each other, and though we are always home by curfew (8pm on weeknights, 10 on weekends), it gets dark by 7:30, and our village doesn’t have any street lights, and if it’s raining families tend to get very, very worried about us, so getting home after 7:30 isn’t a great idea…plus factor in we need to leave about an hour of travel time to get home…ok, so by now you get the picture that we don’t always get a lot of free time. This in and of itself makes life a little stressful, and coupled with the other things mentioned above, life during training is definitely a challenge.

Okay, that went on a bit longer than I’d hoped. Now, on to the update for the week! As I mentioned last week, we had plans for a hike on Saturday. After riding to Txada Tanque (Cha-da Tonk-eee) in a Hilux (with three goats), we walked about 2.5 hours on a flat but rocky and gravely riverbed type thing, with very little shade. It wasn’t terribly difficult, but I unfortunately developed a huge blister which started bothering me after about 1.5 hours. More on that later. The walk was gorgeous with the mountains above us and small village perched on those. We arrived at the “grotto” which was nothing like we expected: basically, we got to a rocky beach with very few other people. The most amazing part was the sound of the waves as they washed over the pebbles/rocks on the beach…it was beautiful, like those cd’s that play natures sounds, except it was in real life. A short walk away was this super cool huge cave with pink rocks “dyed” from the salt water. We played in there a bit, climbing around, then hit the water. It felt amazing after the hike, and we floated and talked and sunbathed and ate for hours. For the hike back, our guides (LCF’s who unselfishly spent their day off to take us) took us on another path, which happened to be an hour uphill. Ugh. For those in great shape, I know it was a walk in the park, but for the rest of us it was a challenge lol. But the views were amazing and I think we were all glad we went. We had dinner in Asomada for one of the trainees birthday and then headed home to totally pass our (oh yeah, this huge blister of mine had opened up and had gravel in it from the second hike, so I’ve had to do several “self surgeries” to remove the skin and dig the gravel out. It’s healing fine, just hurts to walk a bit, and keeping it clean is really hard given that it’s super dusty or muddy and the only shoes I can wear right now are flip flops).

The rest of the week was less eventful but busy with work. We had a session on women in CV and services offered through two organizations, plus a session on the HIV/AIDS situation in CV. Last night was a huge festa back in Txada Tanque. I think I’m getting the hang of these festa things…typically there is a long Catholic mass (over 2 hours) at the local church as the festas celebrate the patron saint of the village or something similar. After there is a procession, where I think people carry a statue of said patron saint through the streets and to…well I don’t know, I haven’t participated in this aspect yet. After that, the festivities start with tons of food and drinks (don’t worry Hank, we all behaved ourselves and made the Peace Corps proud, politely greeting everyone, using our new conversational skills, etc.). Interestingly enough, each family serves basically the same food at each house, and you are expected to eat at each house or the family thinks you don’t like their food and it’s rude. You learn very quickly to eat just a little at each house, even if you are hungry when you get to the first one. We have five volunteers in the village of Txada Tanque, so we went to five houses and ate five times. Around 5 or so, we made our way down into the village proper where the streets were filled with people and cars and food and music. We were looking for somewhere to dance a bit, but everything was too crowded so we just walked around and enjoyed the sights and sounds. It was a big taste of CV culture, and just as we were warned, it wasn’t very safe with the cars trying to drive through large groups of people. Our Peace Corps family looked out for it’s own, and some great new friends we met along the way helped keep us going in the right direction (away from cars). It started to rain, and the roads can be impassable in Txada Tanque when it rains, so we took off in the first available Hiace and made it home safe and sound.

Our group is meeting with the youth in our community today followed by an American dinner at my place – woohoo! Tomorrow, I finally get to assist in killing a chicken and my mom is going to teach me to make katxupa. I’m also making the family omelets for breakfast now that I have discovered they have zucchini. Josh is spending the whole weekend here this week, and I’m spending the weekend at his families next week; it’s too much work to go back and forth every day over the weekend.

And now, for some pictures; they're in opposite order, sorry, so you'll have to start at the bottom where the rainbows are and work your way up...I'll get used to this yet. Enjoy, and see you next week!

We made it!

Unfortunately my camera didn't capture how cool this place really was.

The long hike back...

...still going...

...but what a view.

On our hike

Just starting out, the view from Txada Tanque



Here piggy piggy...

Goat Love and Happy Birthday T!

Hi L's mom! Here we are, enjoying our ride to our hike, with our new friends.

B looks a little nervous, but we all made it out alive.

Lovin' the goat. We called this one The Silver Fox because he stared at himself in the window the entire time.

Happy Birthday T! J spent a long time with that cake on her head to get it to you!

Trainees passing out cake to a few local kids. Everyone loves chocolate!

Somewhere Over the Rainbow...

The scene from Josh's mom's roof during the coolest rain ever...a light mist on one side and the sun on the other with us in the middle. It felt like you could touch the rainbow.


Josh's neighbor "D" (hi D's mom!) enjoying the sunny side of the rainbow.

Home Sweet Home

The view from my house in Macholy

Facing my house in Mancholy (you can see my house in the left corner, and my dad on the roof hanging clothes)

My house (the yellow thing, the grey thing is a garage, though we don´t have a car...)

The photos do not do this place justice...because it´s in the rainy season there is a haze over the mountains which is preventing me from getting great pics. No worries, there is plenty of time!

Attack of the giant asparagus!

Our LCF Denizia (yes, she said it was ok to post this!) losing it

Josh and the Giant Asparagus! We're not exactly sure what these are, but they are not edible according to a conversation we had with a Cape Verdean (who happens to be Josh's mother's cousin, but then again, everyone seems to be related around here...)...and we could't quite explain how they looked like asparagus, since they don't have asparagus here...but it was a fun conversation anyway (we think).
The picture doesn't capture the oddity of walking by these things. They are about 12 feet tall (and will apparently get much bigger) and it makes you feel like you are 2 inches tall. It's really, really surreal...

Me eating a giant asparagus (sort of)

Cooking in Africa

The Youth Development group (plus IT Josh, Denizia our LCF, Dacia (Day-sha) and Guerdine

INIDA photos

Endemic plant species in Cape Verde at INIDA

Josh at INIDA

Botanical garden at INIDA

The view from INIDA

More botanical garden

Saying goodbye, and Ode to Wegmans

This week we received some sad (tristi) news. Two of our trainees area leaving post. It’s sad any time that a trainee leaves, because you have made connections with them, but this was especially hard for us because they were volunteers in our village and also happen to be the only other married couple in our group. I have been speaking with them via email for about a month before arriving in Cape Verde and was looking forward to spending my time here with a fellow married couple to share experiences with. I really miss them already…it was such a sad situation, and my heart goes out to them. They will be in our thoughts.

Although I am sure after we finish training, Josh and I will be extremely grateful to have each others support in (what is hopefully) our remote site, during training being a married couple has been very difficult, particularly because we are in the same village. While other trainees are forming bonds between each other because of their shared experiences (being alone without any other support in a foreign country), it seems that others feel that because Josh and I are together, we are a “unit” and thus we aren’t really able to get to know and make friends with people one on one. We are trying to spend time apart when we are in big groups, but (I can only speak for myself) I have felt very isolated from other volunteers at those times and find myself sitting alone when I am not with Josh. I had hoped to make friends and get support from others here, but it feels like the only support I am getting is from Josh. Obviously that is a wonderful thing, but I feel that I need other people to share with as well.

Sorry, not meaning to whine, it’s just something that has been building and I think it’s important to relate to other married couples that might be joining PC that this has been my experience, and one I was prepared for. Other than this, Cape Verde is amazing, the other trainees are great, just distant, and this is easily the best thing I’ve ever done in my life (well, except for marrying Josh of course).

Yesterday was another field trip, this time to INIDA, an agricultural research center. Although not exactly my cup of tea, it was interesting to see what is going on to promote sustainable agriculture in Cape Verde. Drip irrigation is becoming more popular and supported by the government, and research on hydroponics is taking off. It reminded me of my days working at the Cornell Agricultural Experiment Station in Geneva. I wasn’t a big fan of that job either :o) But it is important to see what’s going on environmentally here.

I’ve been attempting to cook (kuzinha) an American meal for my family. At home, I frequently whipped up a baked macaroni dish with veggies, ground beef, pasta, tons of cheese and sauce. So I asked some Cape Verdeans where I might find some of these things and was directed to a “Super Mercado.” After arriving, I thought I had made a mistake and tried to walk around and find the “real” store. Come to find out, Asomada doesn’t have any sort of supermarket, only small markets like convenience stores (or the bulk section at Wegmans...side note: if you don´t know what Wegmans, think of the biggest, coolest supermakert ever, and then multiply that) that do sell some items…but not much of what I was looking for! I did manage to find sauce (un seasoned, and I can’t find spices), onions, garlic, peppers and pasta. I also found gouda lol, so I’m hoping to keep looking and find mozzarella. We’ll see. And apparently they don’t have ground beef in Asomada, only in Praia. However, one of our LCF’s (Language and Cultural Facilitator) offered to bring me some back from Praia, and some cheese if she could find it. There is hope! What is interesting is that Asomada is either the second or third largest city in Cape Verde, so if the selection is this limited here, I can only imagine what it will be like when we get to our site…

Last night we went to our LCF’s house and made garlic bread and lasagna. Sort of. I mean it was lasagna, but just with different ingredients. Who cares, it was delicious! It was made with a red sauce with ground beef (from Praia), sausage, peppers and onions, then topped with a white sauce, and the whole thing topped with gouda. Not what I would consider lasagna, but soooo good! And the garlic bread was fantastic too (complements of another volunteer). It was nice to relax with our LCF instead of always being in class, and hopefully we’ll continue to have dinners together!

A note about Josh: He apologizes that I have been doing most of the writing, however we are so busy that he’s having a hard time getting anything written for the blog. So he’s still here and alive and well (although he had a bad day last week; we call it “the mango incident” and quickly learned the importance of bleaching out fresh food for at least 20 minutes before eating it). When we’re at site, we should have more time to get write individually. Until then, you’re all stuck with me.

Ti logu!

(Dove) Training, Tarrafal and thoughts on food...

Two weeks in and training is great. We are starting the technical components and learning a lot about asset based approaches to development as well as small enterprise development - thank you Americorps VISTA for laying the groundwork for me in ABCD! It's proved to be an awesome tool and I think doing a year of VISTA before coming here was a great idea.

We're staring to put together our projects that we will complete before swearing in, and our group has some great ideas so far. I think we're going to do a youth festival since there is very little for kids to do in our town. Talent show anyone? Plus we´re talking about arranging a weekly play day for the kids where we can provide structured activities and hopefully work with the older youth so that they can continue after we leave. It's all about sustainability.

Yesterday we went to Tarrafal, which consisted of two parts: First, we visited a concentration camp that was opened by the Portuguese in the 1930's to house prisoners from Portugal as well as political prisoners who were fighting for freedom from Portugal in the 60's and 70's. Intense stuff. Of course, we followed it up with a trip to the beach...paradise. This side of the atlantic seems a lot bluer and a whole lot warmer, but it felt comforting to be in the same water as I was in back at home! Maybe Majik and family were in the water at the same time :o)

Tarrafal is gorgous. The beach was perfect and there were these cool black rocks deeper out that you could access from the beach and lounge on, or jump off of into the turqouise waters. Not being used to the salt, my skin was a little unhappy but who could complain. We bobbed up and down for hours and then played frisbee on the beach with the kids. I love this place. Especially the kids. Now if only I could remember everyone name...

And food...while the food at the beach didn't agree with me, the food at home (both Josh's and mine) is fantastic. Kudos to the Peace Corps for hooking me up with an amazing mom who can really mix it up in the kitchen. We have fish a lot, and rice every night, and then a main dish of maybe chicken and veggies, or just fried chicken (and french fries, mmmm), or sausage and veggies, and lots of beans. Those of you that actually know me know how many stomach problems I can have with certain foods...I have not been sick to my stomach ONCE since I got here (aside from the ver ocasional 'Big D' that is to be expected and we have all had regularly...I've had it probably the least of anyone!). Cape Verde is good to me. And while I love my family and life in Mancholy, I can't wait to see where we are going and meet my community and really get started with our projects.

Ti logu,
Dove

More photos!

Josh and Dove, getting ready to leave!

Cape Verdean cousins, showing CV´s variety

The 'Old City,' hub of slave trade

Courteny and me at the Embassy, finally meeting!

My little sister hoopin' it up!

Cape Verdean History

I just wrote this as a journal entry that was required as part of our ´portfolio´that we need to finish before becoming actual volunteers (7 weeks to go!). Because I am working with teachers in the US and their classrooms, I thought it might be a nice addition to the blog.

Two weeks ago, our training group had the opportunity to visit Riberia Grande, or Cidade Vilha, a place rich with history and the beginning of much of Cape Verdean life and culture. The "Old City" was once the major city on the island of Santiago, before a migration in 1612 (due in large part to pirate attacks, which also provide opportunity for slaves to run away to the hillsides which now accounts for many of the mountain villages) to Praia, which became the capital in 1858. Through the city, pieces from the past are visible, including a post in the middle of town where slaves were once tied before slavery was abolished in Cape Verde in 1836. From its accidental discovery in 1460 by Diaga Gomez and Antonio da Noli, to independence in 1975 to the most recent elections and shift in power, our history and tour guides led us through Cape Verde’s unique and rich historical and cultural landscape.

The physical location of the islands has contributed greatly to the social and economic history of Cape Verde. Located at a key point between Africa, the Americas and Europe, Cape Verde offered a safer portal to access African slaves; traders who went to the continent proper faced a host of possible dangers, from leaders unwilling to bargain to slaves running aground near or in rivers and being claimed by natives as their own. After slavery was instituted in Cape Verde in 1582, it became a much safer port to trade slaves. In addition, many were trained as skilled laborers and/or baptized and were thus more highly valued. Slavery was Cape Verdes main industry at this time, with 87.5% of the population consisting of slaves. Other economic industries at this time included sugar cane and cotton trade.

Later, as slavery died, Cape Verde was used for other purposes. In 1838 Sao Vincent harbor, Porto Grande, was developed as a coaling station. In addition, Cape Verde served as a telegraph point connecting Europe, Latin America and West Africa. Industry shifted to exporting cotton, wood, fabric, leather, corn, turtles, rum, tobacco and salt.

The climate of Cape Verde, also heavily influenced by geography and geology, with it’s long dry season and short rainy season, shaped the countries history, culture and economy. It encouraged Portuguese women to "stay put" in Europe, leaving Portuguese men with the options of either celibacy or taking an African woman as a "wife." This mixing of ethnicities and cultures is evident today in the wide spectrum of Cape Verdeans skin, eye and hair color, as well as the blend of languages, known as Kriolu.

As mentioned, the rain season in Cape Verde is extremely short and also varies from island to island. In general the rains begin in July/August and end in September/October; the specifics vary depending on the source. With little rain comes little food, and the history of Cape Verde is fraught with numerous droughts leading to famine: 1901 – 1904, 1920 – 1921, 1941 – 1943 and 1947 – 1948. This pattern could have continued were it not for international aid beginning in the 1970’s which prevented an unknown number of deaths.

The combination of isolated location, Portuguese control, arid climate and general economic under development/lack of jobs have led to much of the population emigrating all over the world. Early emigration took place from the island of Brava where whaling ships would bass and pick up men to work on the ships. These vessels frequently brought men to New England in America, which partially accounts for the large number of Cape Verdeans in cities such as Boston. Other emigrants traveled to Portugal, France, the Netherlands and Italy; Brazil and Argentina; and Senegal, Angola and Sao Tome, though the "emigrants" on Sao Tome were more indentured servants than employees and were unable to leave the island due to the inability to make and save money. Emigration continues today and in many ways shapes the social realities of Cape Verde. Many men leave the country to make and send money home to their families, and return infrequently, leaving the women and younger children to run the house hold. In addition, many young adults leave Cape Verde hoping to find more opportunities abroad, which can have a damaging effect on the ability of Cape Verde to build capacity and rely on human resources that may affect change.

In 1924 in Guinea, Amilcar Cabral was born. His fathers occupation led the family to travel frequently, and Cabral received his high school education in Cape Verde, on the island of Sao Vincent. His degree in Agronomy was earned in Lisbon. In 1959, the young and politically minded Cabral formed the PAIGC, the African Party for the Independence of Guinea and Cape Verde; having grown up in both countries and given their colonial status under Portugal, the union survived despite tensions between party members from the different countries. In 1963 he began the fight against colonial rule, and in 1973 he was killed before seeing the country win its independence.

In part because of revolution in Portugal and diminishing support in that country for fighting in Africa, Cape Verde and Guinea won independence. From 1974 to 1975 a transition government between Cape Verde and Portugal was formed, and on July 5, 1975, Cape Verde received full independence. Aristides Pereira, one of the key players in the fight for independence, replaced Cabral as leader of the ruling party and, according to the constitution, became president for life. The government from 1975 to 1990 was based on the following structure: Single party rule; Life term for the president; One Prime Minister; and Parliament. Government and industry was nationalized and Cape Verde was under a strong rule. However, after 4 to 5 years, the government became more flexible; although historically this period may not seem to have a positive summary, many excellent policies were instituted, including family planning and working with the UN for food aid, in particular for children (which both provided much needed nutrition for young people and also encouraged school attendance, contributing to the high literacy rate in Cape Verde).

Without the uniting presence of Cabral to solidify the tie between Cape Verde and Guinea, the conflict between the countries continued to grow. When, in 1980, there was a coup d’etat in Guinea, the Cape Verde official broke ties and formed a new party, PAICV (African Party for the Independence of Cape Verde). At this time the economy was state controlled and 80% of food was imported. Major industries included salt mining, ship repair, manufacturing, and exporting shoes and clothing. The economy was supported by international organizations and aid from other countries; in addition most emigrants sent money home. Employment in country consisted of high intensity manual labor.

Democracy arrived in Cape Verde in 1991 with the first free elections. Two major parties were represented: PAICV and MDP, Movement for Democracy. MDP swept the elections – presidential, parliamentary and municipal. Democratic changes were instituted, including a new constitution, a 5 year limit on presidency, and a new flat and anthem in 1993. The MDP economic approach was quite different from its predecessor, and most of this structure continues today: free market economy, expansion of the private sector and privatization of industry, efforts to attract foreign investors, tourist development and a focus on service oriented economy, and a fixed relation of the Cape Verdean Escudo to the Euro.

In the 2001 election, PAICV regained power and has been the ruling party since. However, as opposed to returning to its old platform, it continued many of previous parties policies. Today, the president of Cape Verde is Pedro Pires and the Prime Minister is Jose Maria Neyes. However, the political landscape may soon again change; in recent municipal government elections MDP regained much of its power.

View from our window in Praia, Santiago coast, Dancing at the Embassy and Mancholy

A word about getting around...

I’m not sure our brief discussion about the transportation in Cape Verde was sufficient in capturing the whirlwind of excitement and adventure that is the Hiace ride. Fortunately for everyone, immediately after posting our blog on Monday we had another fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants-thrill-ride in one on our way back to Mancholy from Asomada.

Language (**SEE NOTE BELOW) is still a huge barrier and we have been having trouble conveying to Hiace drivers going in our direction that we are going to Mancholy and are ok with just being dropped off at the entrance of the Village, given that NO Hiaces go directly into Mancholy (without paying extra money and pre arranging it). So each trip starts out like this:

US – Mancholy?
HIACE DRIVER – Txada Lem
US – Sin, pertu Mancholy, pera Mancholy? (Yes, close to Mancholy, stop at Mancholy?)
HIACE DRIVER – (random gesture that we will need to pay more money to go to Mancholy)
US – Nau, ka NA Mancholy, na Estrada principal (No, not IN Mancholy, at the main road)
HIACE DRIVER – Ah, sin

After this we get on the Hiace, and the conversation happens again, just to make sure the crazy American’s realize they will have to walk to Mancholy from the main road, which we are well aware of. The whole thing has become very amusing at this point (the first time it was frustrating because we didn’t know how to say “main road” yet and thought the driver was trying to make a quick buck off of us just for stopping at the side of the road, but we figured out pretty quickly that it was just confusion as to where we’d be dropped off).

Ok, so we’re on the Hiace, in the back (still not sure where the “best” place to sit in the Hiace is at this point), and then we wait. Until it’s totally full. Well, totally full to the drivers standards, because in our minds, it’s full when there are three people in each seat, which is what is it meant to seat comfortably, which means…15 including the driver. Right.

On this particularly day with this particular driver, there seemed to be no cap or limit on “full” and we didn’t take off from Asomada until there were 22 people on board, including those hovering and sitting on laps. No worries though, because right after we started going, someone came running after us, and the number jumped to 23. Yes, 23 people in a van meant for 15. Ok, I’ll even admit that we can squish 19 in normally, and a couple of kids on laps make it akward but doable. But on this particular ride, on this particular day, there was only one kid in the whole Hiace, so that meant 22 adults crammed in. And did we mention we were in the back, furthest corner from the door? Meaning no easy escape had we felt it was too crowded and chosen to take another Hiace.

Each stop we made, folks got off but were replaced with more, including at one point a “traveling salesman” and his wares, which was like two extra people. Super fun. We should also mention at this point that Dove was feeling under the weather (more about that later) and super achy, so a Hiace ride in the back under normal conditions would have been less than comfortable, but on this particular day, with this particular driver, and with feeling particularly not good…but wait, there’s more!

As we were nearing Mancholy, passing the hospital, a bunch of folks were headed towards the road, presumptively headed back to Asomada. Our Hiace driver slowed, jerked the Hiace around, stopped on the opposite side of the road and declared (we think) that this was the end of the road and everyone should get off. Seriously. There were still at least 10 people left on the Hiace at that point, most going all the way to Txada Lam, which was still quite a hike from where we were, and none of us with a ride to our destination. In America, I can only imagine the indignation and outrage the riders might have expressed, but we all just got off, paid our money and went on our way. Of course the ride to Mancholy typically costs 50 Escudos, and we each handed him 40 Escudos instead, to which he replied “Nau, 50! Mancholy e la!” (No, 50! Mancholy is there!), to which we replied “Sin! Mancholy e la, mas nos e LI!” (Yes! Mancholy is there, but we are HERE!).

Arguing with a Hiace driver in Kriolu and winning made the whole trip totally worth it.

The thing that we are noticing about Cape Verde is that there are lots of (pretty minor) frustrations but they are pretty easily handled with humor and a little humility. Plus, it’s hard to get too huffy riding in a Hiace when your ride takes you past some of the most beautiful scenery you’ve ever seen – hillsides and valleys covered in green, mountains capped with clouds, tiny villages with houses placed precariously on the sides of said mountains and nestled in said valleys. This place is awesome.

And now for some health news…Dove has just recovered from her first official illness. She was feeling a little icky on Sunday which continued through Monday morning. In the afternoon, after getting back from Asomada (and that fateful Hiace ride) she took her temperature only to discover it was *gasp* 102. Oh no! It spiked in the night to over 103, but lots of napping, Tylenol and water helped, as did several trips to the bathroom, and now things are much better. Getting sick in Africa is a lot like getting sick in America, except 1) when you have the chills, they don’t necessarily have the blankets to keep you warm, 2) when you get the sweats its already 90 degrees, 3) your husband lives across town and isn’t around 24/7 to baby you, 4) the whole village knows you are sick and as soon as you step foot outside the house everyone asks if you are better yet, and 5) your host family is so nervous that something is really wrong that they ask if you are feeling good about 30 times a day, truly concerned about your health. Of course, this just goes to show how our host families have really welcomed us into their homes as part of their families.

**NOTE BELOW: Kriolu is a beautiful language, taken partly from Portuguese and partly from the languages of slaves brought here by slave traders. It is also, by most language standards, a pretty easy language to learn. Sentence structure isn’t terribly difficult, and unlike romance languages there aren’t any annoying very conjugations and very few gender agreements to make. However, although we are both doing pretty well in learning the language, we are both finding it a major challenge, mostly because in any language you have to memorize oodles and oodles of vocabulary. Interestingly as well, lots of words we use in English don’t exist in Kriolu; we may have 10 words to distinguish between super minor differences in words, and they may have just one or two words to do the same. (Dove: I’m beginning to think English just has waaaay too many words and I’m waaaay happy it’s my first language and I don’t have to learn it later in life). We are both SUPER grateful that we took advantage of the Rosetta Stone package in Portuguese that the Peace Corps offered to us (for free) because, if nothing else, it got our minds back in that “language learning” mode, and also because there is some cross over in Portuguese and Kriolu (though usually just enough to be confusing and accidently say things in Portuguese). So for any future Peace Corps Trainees/Volunteers out there reading this blog, do as MUCH language before you get here as humanly possible, even if it’s not the actual language you’ll be speaking. You can’t possibly be a good, effective volunteer if you can’t speak the language.