crime and Punishment

After a brief moment of contemplation, li hing mui (thanks mom) and socks for the feetzies (it's cold) I can now successfully try to entertain my readers with a not so happy story.

As many of you have no clue about I was robbed a few months ago while on a 3 day hiking trip. Yes, the trip was epic and yes I could see three countries from where I was standing but the return to my hut was not so epic. I was with my fellow volunteer, Ben, who stayed at my hut the night before our departure. As I entered the hut I immediately knew something was wrong.

My immediate instinct was to check for Ben's computer, he had left it in my hut not wanting to trek with it. I handed him the computer and told him to check to make sure everything was still there. Turning to the back door I discovered where the culprit had entered. I generally use a string to lock the back door of my hut. I thad worked for the year or so I'd been in village why would it fail now. That day I discovered it cut and I was able to freely open the back door.

I went into a rush. Ben told me everything was in his computer as I broke the news that my hut had been broken into. I went through all of my belongings which I now began to notice how out of place they were. Knic-knacks were strewn across my table, clothes on the floor, and buckets moved. I keep my hut fairly orderly to unsure minimal pest damage and cleanliness for visitors, it's not very big you know.

Anyway, I found that the money I had brought out to throw a party had been stolen (40,000 cfa), Ipod gone (neve realized how much I missed it till it was gone), voice recorder, solar charger, batteries, and 3 bars of soap. I screamed for my father to come over, not the best decision as unbeknownst to me the perp was still in village. My Dad, the village chief, came to my hut and I explained to him in very angry Pulaar what had happened. Then, my brother came over to tell me how sad he felt. I felt a little helpless but at the sametime at ease with what had been taken as it was mostly trivial things which could, if wanted, be replaced. My rage stemmed from the invasion of privacy and broken trust that had resulted from the theft.

A meeting was called and immediately my voice recorder emerged. I played for my Father and Uncle's present the recording I had done with my Father about compost 4 months earlier. How they didn't already know it was mine I don't know. They now believed me and told me Boubacar Diallo, a boy from Guinea who had been helping to farm some fields and staying in the village for roughly a month, had it and was taping people talking randomly in the village. Attempting to hatch out a plan in secrecy, something nearly impossible here especially when white person is involved, they set out to catch Boubacar.

Fail. Boubacar whether he heard me yell, my father call the meeting, or got suspicious when my brother took the voice recorder I don't know but he fled behind the fence into the bush with an excuse to poo. I hoped he pooed his pants. Ha!

Anyway, the chase began and my village was dedicated to catching him in a very non-chalant way. My Uncle who had house the boy took personal responsibility to the next morning at dawn ride 30 km to Kedougou to place a reoport than back 60 km into Guinea to place a report with all the villages on the border and the police. I saw him later that same day and bought him some cookies. Unfortunately, I felt all his hard work was a bit futile.

Morning came the next day and left. The afternoon brought some excitement as an old man said he saw him headin gotward Kedougou. The border patrol along with the forestry, because only the forestry has a motorcycle, left on pursuit. Nothing turned up and I went home a little bummed but my father had hope. He had called a Fatia, or done a religou offering with all the religous leaders and elders of the area to inform their people about the thief and to pray he gets caught or dies. Intense I know it gets better.

A few weeks pass and I am in Kedougou for a radio show. I'm packing to go back to village when I get a call from a number I don't know. I answer, "Alo?" -"Mamdou? It's me Malal. We caught Boubacar." Me - "What!? You caught him? Where? How?" Malal - " Come see. Come now. Tell your uncle in the market."

I left immediately to the police where nothing happened because the theft didn't occur in Kedougou. I asked them to tell the police in my area to bring the thief to kedougou (thinking of course that it was their job. I told them about it). Nothin happened because the police in my area don't have a car or motorcycle. So. I left ot village.

Arriving at around sunset I fonud Boubacar sitting with my grinning father. I asked what would happen. They told me to wait until my uncle came back so, I went to bathe. Boubacar wasn't tied up and didn't look hurt but he looked tired, sad, and a little remorseful. As I showered I thought about how he was just a kid who saw an opportunity to have something he may only be able to dream of (I don't mean this offensively. Look into Guinea's status). I began to forgive the boy not in a religous sense but in a okay he did wrong he needs to pay but not necessarily by going to jail.

My uncle arrived and the meeting commenced, if you could call it a meeting. It consisted of humiliating Boubacar, telling him how shameful his actions were, and asking me to talk to him and him to talk to me. I wasn't having it and just wanted things to be decided and over. Unforunately, due to the time and Tebaski (a major Islam holliday) taking Boubacar to jail was out of the question for the next few days atleast, until Tebaski passed (2 days away).

Their first choice Tie him up to a tree or post until the holliday passed then take him to jail. He'd eat, he'd sleep, he just wouldn't be able to go any where. I wasn't a fan givent he immediate ridicule allready givent o the boy i could only immagine what would happen if he were tied up. Next and final option, Saria. Saria in Pulaar literally mean law and until today I didn't know what that meant. So, after some discussion with my advisor and my father and i agreed that this Saria would be the quickest and most acceptable puishment that would make everyone in the village feel like justice was brought.

Saria began at midnight with the showing of all the clothes Boubacar had bought with the stolen money. He then removed the stolen clothes he was wearing, in front of everyone, and put on the slothes he wore when he arrived. He was asked what would happen to him if he were caught stealing in Guinea. He said, "they ask you whether you like your foot or hand better?" My father now weilding a machete than asked, "well which do you prefer? Bring it forward?" Boubacar chose his left hand and my father raised the machete high and borught it down swiftly. Laughter erupted as my father stopped his swing just short of Boubacar's hand. The verbal abuse continued.

Until, one of my uncle's grew tired and called for the children to get sticks. Excited the children each brought a stick. A discussion broke out whether to tie Boubacar up. Thankfully, the decision was no. My unlce than, like something out of a movie, order the boy to sit on a map. He grabbed a the first stick and began beating Boubacar until it broke. Boubacar began crying and screaming with pain. The first stick broke and a second was taken swiftly. These step were repeated until Boubacar leapt with a yelp and began pleading for it to stop. He was ordered again to lay down on the mat. Compling Boubacar suffered again until the fourth stick broke and while the fifth came down on him he leapt again and plead for it to stop. They didn't so he bolted for the door. He ran through the village as the villagers followed for fear he might steal their bikes. Apparently beating and ridiculing is Saria.

I was astonished and intrigued. The people of my village thought nothing of it. They even joked and laughed at how he yelled in pain and congratulated my uncle on a good beating. The whole next day I heard how well my uncle did and how Boubacar cried. I also slept with my bike in the security of my locked hut and woke the next morning to do laundry.

Still shocked I didn't leave the village until the afternoon the next day. I was gone for maybe 3 hours and came back to find my back yard a bit of a mess. I thought, “Damn cat” and continued on my way to bathe. Then the greeting of, “Hey Boubacar is by the forage. Did you see him?” I replied no I hadn't and that you're not funny. Then, I began to think and opened my eyes. My back yard was a mess and there was an interesting space in the clothes I left to dry in the sun. That little SOB came back and tried to break into my hut again. Finding it was locked he took my shirt instead. I'm not going to lie I was scared and slept the next few night with my doors locked for fear of what he may try at night.

Boubacar showed his face in and around the area for the next 3 days before finally being spotted heading towards Kedougou. I haven't heard anything since but everyone is on the look out. I now lock my doors when ever I leave, sucks, but I do. I learned my village really does care for me and will go through a lot to make things right. I also learned that I should've shared the things I hid from my village (Ipod) because then they would've known it was mine and things wouldn't have gone so far. In the end, we have moved on and learned. Boubacar is no longer welcome in any part of my community and I know people are looking out after me.

Animals

Senegal has a variety of animals living in the wild that (I could be wrong) one cannot see in the wild in America. Things such as lions ("ohhh!"),Snakes ("ewww"), lizards, and yes the cute and cuddly hippopotomaus. Not to brag but I have seen a few of these little critters while attending to the daily business.

Baby hippo - Early in my service our entire region (Senegal is broken in 14 I belieev) went on a retreat in order to discuss desired projects, a visons for the year, and possible improvements. This pas tyear it was held at a Campement roughly 40km North of the Goo. The trip was pretty standard some alcohol, arranging for one of the worker's wifes to cook for us instead of the regular white people chef they have on tap, and the daily out door frolicing near the river.

I was fortunate enough to be blessed with a thought full, creative, and fish loving father who decided to send me a fishing pole. Sorry Pop, it's been used once but it does play a key role in this story.

A now retired volunteer and I decided, knowing the the campement is on the Gambia river, to bring the pole along just in case. After a long day of meetings and discussions we decided to get a few casts in before the sun fully set. Per usual we stayed out casting away, really just messing around, until dusk. Now, as many of you dwellers of the developed world may have forgotten but with no cars, generators, tvs, radios, or noise making devices the world is a fairly quite place and atleast in my perspective the darkness brings about with it a new level of silence. My friend and I were slowly approaching this silenece when it was abruptly broken with sound of water breaking. (You know the sound that you heard when you submerge a bottle under water and it pops back up or when your ears exit the water and are ambushed by the freedom of air).

Anyway, immediately we looked to the river and found a cute little Baby hippo (real life size probably about the size of a small car) and its mother. They came for down river and were sitting behind a little rock sehlf in the middle of the river avoiding the current. The baby was attempting to climb the rock. A few seconds later we began to notice the shines of not jus the two hippos but roughyl 3 others also resting in the shelter provide by the rocks from the stream current. My initial though, like any, was this is awesome, how can I get closer? We quickly scuried down the river bank to a clearing that put us directly in line with them and at roughly 50 yards away.

As we sit and watch these beautiful creatures the sun grows tired and decides to go to bed. We stand mesmerized staring now only at the contrast of shinynes between the hippos and water. No we don't have a flashlight. Why would we? CRACK, RUSSLE, SPLASH! We freak out now in an instant realizing hippos are very territorial, especially around their young and in the dark and they can easily out run us on land. We take off running/fast walking up the bank, down the trail and back to camp.

We laugh as we arrive, out of breath, and only able to ask, "Did you see it? Was it a hippo? Shit!" The crash was big (hence, the capitals), the russle equally as big and the splash well you can imagine. Waht caused it? I don't know but that Baby Hippo sure was cute.

For more info on hippos - http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hippopotamus

Reptiles - There aer many reptiles in Senegal most of which youreally don't want anything to do with. I've seen them in the back of my hut and be headed (the common death penalty of a found snake after being beaten with a stick) on the side of the road. The other common reptile of interest that I've seen commonly are monitor lizards. They usually scare the crap out of you by plopping out of a tree, scurrying through the bushes, or swimming across a river. These actions are also true for most snakes.
My most recent enconter with one of these lizards was down at a farmer's field. His 10 year old son pointed the lizard out to me. It was sitting high up in a tree and appeared to me to be pretty tires, maybe a little hungry but definitely thirsty. The boy and by this time his mother, little brothers and father all agreed with me as we stared up at this lizard willing it to move.
The boy had other plans. No sooner than I pulled out my camera to take photos the boy was hurling rocks at the lizard to get it to come down. His little brother, age 2, scurried to his mother and somehow never took his eyes off the lizard. The rock throwing continued for about 15 minutes, none ever hit the lizard, until finally the boy's mother decided it was time for them to get back to picking peanuts.
The lizard seemed unperturbed but as we began to leave it turned around and started down the tree a little. I left for another field but was greeted later that night by an estatic little boy claiming he had hit the lizard with a rock, causing it to come down and run away. This is fairly classic rural animal and human interaction in Senegal however, this doesn't hold true with some of the larger mammals.

Lion - Ona return trip from Dakar I must pass through a National Park in which there is no cell service, houses, and one will see numerous monkeys, warthogs, and sometimes a lion. I got a fairly late start this particulair day getting out on the road for the last leg of my trip home. The sun began to set and most of the people in the car were asleep, thank goodness the driver was not. As we putted down the road a strangefigure began to emerge from the distance. The figure seemed to be laying on the road. My first assumption was it was a cow but as we approached I saw that it was a tad smaller than a cow. I live with Pulaar people I know what a cow looks like. I then decided it was a dog but quickly destroyed that though as the animal was much to large to be a dog. I hadn't made my third prediction when we arrived at the animal's resting spot. The driver was jsut as curious if not more than I in what this things actually was and upon learning what it was he quickly sped up and looked back at me.
He asked, "Did you see that?" Me, "Ya, what was it? Was it a lion?" He just nodded manicly and focused his speeding car down the road as his fear stem from the numerous stories people tell of bikers, herders, and even cars being chased, harrassed and sometimes destroyed by lions. I on the other hand was shocked but it made sense. This large figure mimicked the way a dog or cat would lay. It was smaller than a cow but much larger than a dog. It was a lion.

These are just a few of the animal encounters. Others include hearing Hyenas at night as they follow our cows back to the village, warthogs, and monkeys. I unforuntaely have not seen Chimpanzees yet but will before leaving. Any questions?

I stink at keeping this thing updated.

As the holliday times roll around volunteers begin to plan their trips home and families and friends begin to roll in to Senegal. As the times are in America, Senegal is happy and cheerful in the Peace Corps's world during the holidays. Even amongst the arguments over an upcoming election, this years drought, and the constant "Tobabing" children we volunteers seem to be able to make ourselves feel at home. Before I forget I'd like to wish you all a late Happy Thanksgiving, a Merry/Happy what ever religous holiday you celebrate and if none the have a good day, and of course a Happy New Year. Thought I would cover all the bases all at once just in case I don't write another blog post for the rest of my service.

I decided to jump back on the band wagon of blog posting after sharing some of the interesting stories I've thought I told my parents but have some how gotten lost in the back of my now some what Sengalese mind. Some of these are happy, some are sad and as I am a fisherman's son they may or may not be embelished. That is for the reader(s) to decide.

In an attempt to use this little intro blog as a reminder and table of contents for the stories I will lis the "chapters" of the stories below. Seeing how I have been eating straight pork for the past 2 days and ran 15 km today please frogive me if the stories aren't filling your new found appetite for fresh African stories.

Chapter One - Animals - Over my past year and few months in country I have encountered a few animals that many people will only see behind bars. Some deadly, some cute, and some tastey and all we seen while simply going about my daily business.

Chapter Two - Crime and Punishment - Everyone thinks that going into a third world country means on will have to strap on a bullet proof vest and buy one of those uncomfortable and akward traveling wallets. The fact is that yes people do view you as upper class, even if you aren't bac at home. The simple fact is that you have something they want and they may just decided to try and take it. A variety of crimes happen to volunteers here and across the world. I'd like to share my little incident and how I've never felt more at home while being no where near the place I truly call home.

Chapter 3 - Police - The most recent story about how one event can be ruined by what I deem as selfish.

Chapter 4 - Disease - Maybe the most gruesome of the chapters. I think it is time you hear about some of the diseases, illnesses, and health issues I have personally gone through while in Senegal.

Chapter 5 - Marathon - We'll try to end on a good note as I speak about beginning to train for a Marathon in March.

I hope this works and I actually saty on top of it for your benefit and mine. My Pops says I should share these stories and maybe some of them he hasn't even heard. So, here goes nothing. Fingers crossed I don't bore you too much.