Diatock, Casamance and the MMS Multimedia Center

current progress on the center

A friend from college who is now a teacher at the Milwaukee Montessori School (MMS) found out that I was living and studying in Senegal. She told me that her school had started a project in Senegal three years ago in one of her colleague’s villages and wondered if I would be interested in doing some follow-up research on the progress they had made and what work would remain to be done in the future. I was immediately willing, and we started to discuss details about the project. As a researcher, one of my favorite aspects is developing a work plan then seeing it come to fruition as I fill in the notions I had possessed with facts from what I experienced and observed. There are always many surprises—generally good and sometimes challenging.

Unfortunately, the Zuiginchor/Dakar ferryboat was under repair the dates of my trip to Casamance. I was obligated to take the road, opting to take a night bus on the way there and a 7-seater hatchback on the return trip. I thought that the 17-hour trip south to Casamance was a hassle until I compared it with my return trip that included running over a donkey and waiting six and a half hours to cross a river that measures about 200 yards in width. Who builds a road without thinking of building a bridge to cross the river? Africans. Whiling away those hours at the Gambian ferry crossing and observing buses, semis, political propaganda vehicles, cows and donkeys getting into and exiting the ferry reminded me of why Africa is considered so undeveloped. I praise the Lord for his safety and scribble the rest of the annoyances down in my journal of adventurous experiences. 

with the village chief

My friend had arranged my accommodations with her colleague’s family in Diatock—his mother and his brother’s wife, who stayed the week to help her mother-in-law take care of me. Having come to expect good hospitality here in Senegal, I was not surprised to find another wonderful host family during my week in Diatock. Their part of the village did not have any electricity, so I slept outside most of the nights, praying that the cows and goats—that wander freely during all hours of the day and night—would not bite me during my sleep.

with my host mother and her grandchildren

My host mother was an extraordinarily kind woman, and her daughter-in-law and the neighbor girls cooked wonderful food with the few ingredients they had available. Quite strange is the fact that, in the village, there are no vegetables. In general, people only cultivate during the rainy season because few people have access to water all year round. (My host family had to go to the well every day and fill up big plastic tubs for their daily water supply.) Few if any have household gardens, so they are dependent upon what nature gives them. Vegetables were scarce, except onions, but mangos were as plentiful as the sand on the path I took to and from the school. I ate mangos for breakfast and for dinner and with each succulent bite, I thanked God for the abundance he had given me.

My role was to gather information to send to MMS to assist them in developing a sustainable project that meets the needs of the school and the community. What I discovered was quite encouraging: one, the community is very invested in the school (e.g. they have built classrooms for the school out of collectively pooled funds) and in this project in particular (e.g. all the professional work is being done by local masons and carpenters and menial tasks are being done by community members); and two, parents want their children to have a good education and are willing to make necessary sacrifices to give active support to ensure their children’s success. I have no doubt that MMS will have a lasting impression in Diatock, and I am pleased to have been a part of it, knowing that my report will be instrumental in the completion of the center. 

down by the river with the neighborhood kids

Tip #19 for Surviving in Senegal: When given a “bathroom” where the “toilet” is just the cement floor, opt for nature. There is a lot less splashing and you can pretend that you are camping. I will never understand this type of bathroom. I would certainly rather have a simple hole than a cement floor; but maybe the cement holds a special status I am not conferring on it: a puzzle probably not worth contemplating.