Djenaba's Travels--That's Me!

Did Djenaba ever travel! (the D is pronounced like a J; my name is said: Jen-uh-buh, or read it like it's a name in Spanish)
For the past month I have literally traveled half way up Mauritania and half of the entire width of the country for the holidays, training, and visiting friends' villages.
The first amazing thing is the car ride from Kaedi to Nouakchott: 8 hours to go 400 kilometers! On the bright side we had some sheep going with us on our taxi ride and I was able to share with 11 Mauritanians their first ever Oreos. In our 8-seater Volkswagen we had the standard 11 riders: three in the front seat, four in the middle row, and four in the back row (and of course the 2 rams!) It's always interesting being a white, Christian woman in the Muslim Republic of Mauritania: as a woman I should be in the back (thus going along with the popular view that men are of greater status than women, who should be obedient), but as a white person it's obvious that I'm not African, so I'm a guest, and they'd like to treat me extra special to show that they appreciate having a guest. But I'm still a woman. So on this particular ride I was in the very back row, but the 3 others were sure to give me as much room as possible. (Though it could also be due to the fact that a man was sitting next to me, and he's not religiously allowed to touch me. At all. Even in a car.)
Being in Nouakchott was like being in Ensenada or Rosarito (Mexico): restaurants for the Westerner's tastes, huge buildings made by private international organizations, people walking around in all kinds of western clothes, all mixed in with the trash every where, dirty little hole in the wall cafes, dusty kids holding out their cans asking for money, and the strange dichotomy of wealth living with poverty.
But we did eat hamburgers, pizza and Ben & Jerry's!

After Christmas with the PCVs in Nouakchott (including my friends Sara Cate and Ava, as seen here), I spent the New Years with my host family from training in Rosso. New Years, or "the 31st" as its called here, was apparently outlawed by the government in the 90's, thus forbidding large parties or celebrations as they are not officially on the Muslim calendar. This was explained to me just before Midnight as we sat on the ground just outside the house. There was a small party going on in the next village over, but none of my friends or family went because, in this culture, married women don't go out at night without the husband's permission, teenage girls (the ones that aren't married yet) don't go out unless they want a tarnished reputation, and the men can do as they please. So we brought in the new year with me learning about life here as we ate tangerines under the stars.
Seeing my host family was amazing! I got to experience real Pulaar hospitality. First everyone is ridiculously excited to see you, running out to the car, giving hugs, holding your hands, carrying your bags, women and children touching your arms, back, legs (for the shorter kids), just to stay near you. Fresh milk is brought out, tea is made, the questions about health, peace, family, friends, work, life are never ending as they want to be positive that there is "only peace" in your life. Getting there in the afternoon it was a given that I'd spend the night, so me and Mariam shared a huge blanket on our side-by-side matelas. (Sleeping is according to gender and age: there are so many people in one household with three rooms, so we split it: mother and little children in one room, teenage/unmarried women in another, and young men in the third). I knew I'd be staying one night, so I brought just my tooth brush, face wash, and deodorant. (Everyone lives and sleeps in the same clothes for 2, 3, 4 days), but when I was trying to leave the next day, they were so kind, welcoming, and insistent that I stay longer... so I stayed 3 nights! And they were still sad to see me go on the 4th day!

After several days of agricultural training with the Peace Corps, I headed East to Selibaby with two other volunteers to see their region, the capital, their villages, and their gardens (always work related!) Because the only way to take paved roads in Mauritania would take us north 6 hours then back south 8 hours, we decided to go straight across, in the most direct line possible, which is only available through Senegal. 2 days, a ferry ride, 6 cars, 1 metal bed for 3 people, lots of waiting, and one canoe ride later we were back in Mauritania, about 200 miles to the east of Rosso!

Selibaby is right in the "crotch" of Mauritania, the little dip that is bordered by the Senegal River: the Sahel is in full swing, baobabs abound, and I was singing the soundtrack to the Lion King about the whole time. Tim, Shelby, Sari and I climbed a fallen baobab tree as the sun rose in the cold morning--yes, it IS cold!

Later that day Tabatha, Tim and I went out to Koumba Ndow (say it: coom-bun-dow), Tabatha's Soninke village to see an Ag/fo volunteer's dream: huge, lush gardens, shallow wells easy for getting water, motivated people, and budding fruits. I even spoke Spanish with about 5 or 6 guys that live/work in Spain!
After 2 nights in Koumba Ndow, Tim and I went to his Moor village, which is only slightly changed from the traditional living from hundreds of years ago. Firstly, they have a phone. Secondly, they no longer move their tents, but use mud bricks to make a sturdier, longer lasting tent frame. Thirdly, they have wells.

The coolest thing about going all over, visiting 3 different cultures, and meeting so many people is seeing that although the Pulaars, Soninkes, and Moors are all distinct, they are also similar in certain ways: the hospitality, giving nature, curiosity about foreigners, and overall kind heartedness.





Can you find the Pulaar, Soninke and Moor women just by looking at their clothes? Hint: Moors use a mulafa (say it: moo-laa-fa), like a sheet, to completely cover everything but the face, hands, and feet. Soninkes have a head wrap in addition to a shawl, as do Pulaars, but they also have different kinds of facial scaring for beauty.