Diarra Pont

Diarra Pont
Diarra Pont: My village in southeastern Senegal, 75km west of Kedougou.
"Life in the Peace Corps will not be easy. There will be no salary and allowances will be at a level sufficient only to maintain health and meet basic needs. Men and women will be expected to work and live alongside the nationals of the country in which they are stationed—doing the same work, eating the same food, talking the same language.

But if the life will not be easy, it will be rich and satisfying. For every young American who participates in the Peace Corps—who works in a foreign land—will know that he or she is sharing in the great common task of bringing to man that decent way of life which is the foundation of freedom and a condition of peace."

-John F. Kennedy

Friday, December 23, 2011

Travel Woes

Traveling within Senegal is a particular kind of experience. It is reminiscent of frustrations I have encountered before, although, to a new extreme.

During preservice training, I did not have to deal often with arranging transport myself. We were frequently taken around in Peace Corps cars, and when we did go places at our training sites, our language and cultural facilitator (Pape) would negotiate a ride. While at the training center in Thies, we would frequently take cabs that were commonly found on a road just a block away, and if not, it wasn’t really that far to walk. Again, we are talking distances within a 5km radius. However, once I moved into the Kedougou region, things are much more spread out, and the first experiences on public transport were quite frustrating (although biking the 3km or 5km—depending if I am in my village or at the regional house--to the market is typically carefree and successful)!

Let me elaborate: I was trying to get back to my village before Thanksgiving since I had been away for a few days exploring the surrounding villages of Kedougou. I tried the privatized bus company (that is more like unreliable public transport in the States; e.g. a schedule(that isn’t posted anywhere) doesn’t necessarily mean that it comes when it should, and by schedule, I mean a couple times a week) , Niokolo, but it wasn’t running for some particular reason. I decided I would go to the garage, a hectic place where cars, sept places (seven passenger cars, although I have been in one seating ten), and Alhums (bigger busses that typically have a minimum of twenty five people on the four rows of bench seats and two sideways facing benches in the back) gather and people wait until cars fill up to go places. Time is not incentivized at all here. I missed a sept place although I arrived early, and decided to bike. However, my bike broke and I ended up flipping over the handlebars. I got picked up on the side of the road after waiting for five hours to go back to Kedougou. In order to get back to village after Thanksgiving, I bought a seat on the Alhum (since the night before we arranged for seats on a smaller car, but it decided not to go) and it didn’t leave for seven hours. For Christmas I was traveling to Kolda, after biking the 75km into Kedougou (getting a flat tire), when I went into the private bus company office to pay for my ticket that I called in to reserve and was told to come in at 6 to pay, was sold. The bus was full. Result, going to the garage in hopes of catching a sept place in the morning.

However, when I did take the overnight bus to Dakar, it was more or less pleasant although I was completely covered in red dust by the time I reached the city.

I have accepted that whenever I travel in this country, if it is not a headache, it is an exception.

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