Toubacouta- Saturday

Looking back on this trip, Saturday was the most interesting day.  We started the day by taking a moderately long bus ride (again full of singing :) to a small village in the region surrounding Toubacouta.  The village was called Keur Saloum Diane, and we went there to talk with a women’s micro-finance group.  After a short wait, our group broke into two groups to talk with two of the four women's groups in the village.  My group was seated on wooden benches in front of a panel of women, with more women, kids, and a few men sitting behind and all around us.  Abba, one of the Senegalese students, was a translator for us, since none of the women spoke French.  This meeting was different than all of the previous ones since the women weren’t presenting anything to us, they were just answering questions.  So we asked about the work of their group, problems, goals, and stuff like that.  They mostly operate by doing “petit commerce”  which is basically going to a large regional market and buying supplies, then coming back to the village and reselling them for a profit.  There is also a fee to join the group which supplies them with some capital.

While this group seemed fairly successful in their current activities, they were rather limited in the projects they could do because of lack of funds.  They have never received any outside financing in the 17 years that they’ve been an official group.  They told us that it is hard to get NGO or bank financing, because the village is fairly close to Toubacouta.  Since Toubacouta has fairly good access to education and health care, the proximity of this village to Toubacouta made it a less desirable project site for NGOs.  While I understand the reasoning of the NGOs, it doesn’t change the fact that educational, health care, and especially commerce access is lacking in this village.  Also, one man told us the story of one NGO that came in and started building a beauty school to train girls in the village to be hairdressers.  But, part of the way through the project, it was abandoned.  I didn’t understand exactly what he said the reason was, but it was something to do with politics, and the local politician being against the project.  So now the building stands there useless, because there is no money to buy supplies or hire teachers for the school.  

As we drew near to the end of our time and questions, we asked the women if they had any questions for us.  The only question they had was if we had any advice or help for them.  I felt inadequate to give any advice, and at first was surprised that they thought we would be able help.  One of the Senegalese students, Edy, gave them a really good suggestion, which was to try to find a liaison between their group and potential funding sources like NGOs.  Since none of the women spoke French, or had any real experience outside of their village, they couldn’t had no one to lobby for the group to outside organizations.  In spite of this small bit of advice Edy contributed, I still felt pretty helpless, since visiting to “learn and understand” seemed rather insignificant.  Having the means, in both time and money, to be a university student is a unreachable luxury for most Senegalese, but even with our “wealth” of education, we had no answers for these women. 

After Keur Saloum Diane, the whole group went to another even smaller village about ten minutes away by bus.  We got off the bus, and went to look at the village well.  As Waly was explaining about how and by whom the well was built, the villagers were gathering all around our group watching us.  Then we were invited to come sit under this big tree and talk.  A communal meeting tree seems to be a fixture in rural Senegalese villages, as well as the plastic  lawn chairs which we had been sitting in at each stop.  Waly began the conversation by explaining the purpose of our visit, and asking about the history of the village.  The village elders told us a detailed history of when the village was founded, by whom, and notable happenings (like drought years, or construction of a well) since the founding.  After that, the floor was once again open for our questions concerning village life and problems.  Basically, we learned that this village has no school, no medical care or medicines (including pre or postnatal care), and the only economic activity is agriculture.  

Every day the village children walk three kilometers to Keur Saloum Diane to go to school.  This distance becomes a problem when the children get older and are increasingly expected to help farm, or for many girls, to get married and manage a household.  Especially in the villages, girls getting married between 13 and 15 is not uncommon, and I read that 40% of girls are married by 18, which makes it really hard for them to reach higher education.  

The closest health clinic is also three km away in Keur Saloum Diane, and transportation is a problem here too.  The only way they have to go to the health post is a horse and cart, which I guess is too difficult for severely ill people.  Some members of our group saw a woman who was extremely ill after having given birth, but no one had taken her to the health clinic.  I don’t know if they thought she wouldn’t survive the trip, or there was no money to go.  I only heard about it after the fact, but it’s still difficult to imagine being almost completely cut off from medical care.  

As the conversation progressed, we were shocked to learn that our group was the first academic group or government official to ever visit this village to discuss their situation and difficulties.  There is a government representative in this region, and Waly told us that he (or she) represents max about 20 villages.  The only interaction this village has had with the government in the almost 50 years since independence is paying taxes and voting.  Every person over 14 (I think) pays 1000 CFA (about 2 dollars) in taxes each year, which is collected by the village chiefs.  Even more amazing to me, is the fact that this village still votes.  They have to walk the three km to Keur Saloum Diane to vote, and as far as I could tell, everyone who was old enough votes in every election.

One of the striking characteristics of the villagers we were talking to, is that there weren’t any young or even middle aged men.  All the capable men, and many young women left the village to seek work in cities because there are no jobs left in the village.  The agriculture is incapable of sustaining the population any more because crop yields and prices have dropped so much.  As the population grew more land was cultivated, and the villagers stopped their tradition of fallow years.  This has created a big problem of soil degradation, which is partly responsible for the reduced yields.  One man said that in the time of Senghor (shortly after Senegal gained its independence in 1960) he was harvesting 200 sacks of peanuts (per year I assume), but this year he only got 2.  I don’t know if he is still cultivating the same amount of land, but regardless this is a tremendous yield decrease.  During Senghor’s presidency, the government was also distributing fertilizer and agricultural implements, which partially explains the high yields relative to the current production.  Now the villagers said that some animal manure and household organic waste is put on the fields, but it sounded rather haphazardly and irregularly applied. 

Saturday night, our group went to a Senegalese dance club near where we were staying.  It was a relatively small room, but it wasn’t too crowded.  The Senegalese and other American students were fun, and I had a good time.  Clubs aren’t really that different here except that I don’t know any of the music.  Well, I guess the dancing is somewhat different too, but I can’t really explain that.  Maybe youtube Senegalese dancing or something...