I have now been in Mauritania one year. It still can't seem to understand why this place is so poor...it's a desert yes, with much land, non-arable, but it is also rich in fish and newly discovered oil reserves off the coast...with a population of only 3 million. I don't understand how such a place can keep its people so poor. The obvious answer is corruption; it's easy to see. Even at one of my primary schools...the office of the inspector is close, separated only by a wall. (The inspector is like the superintendent of the schools). His office is a huge building...surrounded by beautiful kneem trees and a high wall. The school are buildings where classes are held are falling apart, the doors coming loose, windows missing shutters, floors with holes and cracks, and pieces remain of once upon a time were desks. While corruption is evident, foreign aid continues to stream in. Rice donated by U.S. Aid sits in my friend's store ready for sale. Rice that was intended for donation is sold to people. Something, somewhere...is wrong. Corruption reigns. And only breeds more corruption in order for the poorer to stay afloat. Does corruption on top of corruption equal a functioning society...do many wrongs make right? Would it be best for Mauritania if all foreign aid was halted? There is much corruption in the U.S. also, but the height of it here I feel is unreal. Everybody wants money, and social consciousness of what is morally right and wrong seems nonexistent at times.
Mauritania Peace Corps Volunteer Donna Lenius writes: Development is hard and confusing and I'm unsure if it's doing much good here. But I just do what I can, however small it may seem.
Out of Africa: Lenius describes her Peace Corps family
• by Donna Lenius
I live in a remote place; it's hard to get to. It's 85 kilometers from the nearest paved road...and the regional capital of Kiffa is having difficulties now with running water and electricity.
It is the second largest city in the entire country, and there is no telling when there will be running water or electricity or phone service. There is no way for the people to know when.
Kankossa is hot, reaching 125 degrees most days now in the afternoons. Many people are exhausted, sleeping is acceptable and socially the norm at any time of the day and in any place. I often don't have a desire to eat much in such heat. There is no air conditioning; and you're lucky if you can find luke-warm water...life is harder here.
But this doesn't stop the locals from being proud and telling me, this is the best time to be in Mauritania, there are fresh mangoes, it is the date harvest or the "Gettna" as they call it. The rains are starting to slowly come, and soon there will be
an abundance of fresh milk from the cattle...after the rains come and the cattle go out in the countryside to graze.
And me, I have now been in Mauritania one year. It still can't seem to understand why this place is so poor...it's a desert yes, with much land, non-arable, but it is also rich in fish and newly discovered oil reserves off the coast...with a population of only 3 million. I don't understand how such a place can keep its people so poor.
The obvious answer is corruption; it's easy to see. Even at one of my primary schools...the office of the inspector is close, separated only by a wall. (The inspector is like the superintendent of the schools). His office is a huge building...surrounded by beautiful kneem trees and a high wall.
The school are buildings where classes are held are falling apart, the doors coming loose, windows missing shutters, floors with holes and cracks, and pieces remain of once upon a time were desks.
While corruption is evident, foreign aid continues to stream in. Rice donated by U.S. Aid sits in my friend's store ready for sale. Rice that was intended for donation is sold to people. Something, somewhere...is wrong. Corruption reigns. And only breeds more corruption in order for the poorer to stay afloat.
Does corruption on top of corruption equal a functioning society...do many wrongs make right? Would it be best for Mauritania if all foreign aid was halted? There is much corruption in the U.S. also, but the height of it here I feel is unreal. Everybody wants money, and social consciousness of what is morally right and wrong seems nonexistent at times.
Development is hard and confusing and I'm unsure if it's doing much good here. But I just do what I can, however small it may seem...I didn't choose to be American and they didn't choose to be Mauritanian.
I have two science classes for 6th grade girls. In one class I have 17 girls, and teaching them is work, hard work, you have to go very slow. I try to keep it all in French, but usually have to translate everything back into Hussaniya. I prepare science courses that give them a chance to practice their French and introduce English to them.
The other day I had them singing the English alphabet in rounds. Which proved to be a notion quite hard to explain...(not only did they not understand why I wanted them to sing it, but why on earth would I want them to sing at different times).
Lately, as my language is improving I'm getting to know my family much more. Let me tell you a bit about them.
Recently, my 20-year-old sister told me she will be married this summer to some guy and she'll be whisked away to a new life in Nouakchott (the capital of Mauritania). And I may very well never see her again. She is the best friend I've ever had who doesn't know any English...other than the few things I tell her, which I'm unsure if she remembers or not.
Her name is Nata, but most of the family calls her Hiceeya, and I call her Zeinabou, because that's what she told me to. She likes doing impressions of people...she does an impression of me often, so often, that, I have an impression of her doing an impression of me.
She seems to know what I'm thinking and understands impeccably well what I'm trying to say, she often acts as a translator for me to the rest of the family. She oscillates from being absolutely astonished by what I know to being equally disappointed by what I don't know in Hussaniya.
My other sister, Khaditou, is a joker and a gossip, she likes to talk and she's good at it. I've been trying my hardest to get her to use her talented tongue and speak French or English with me. But I don't think she understands how much knowing French and English could help her in her future. She wants to know English, but is discouraged, because it is so difficult. She is my fashion counselor and advisor, she taught me how to tie, wear, and hold my mulaffa. She never hesitates to let me know when she thinks I am about to make a fashion faux pas.
My host father, Habiib, (Habiib is "love" in Hussaniya) is a very respectable man. The more I find out about him the more I like him. He is a retired French teacher and my French tutor here, now the president of student's association of the primary schools in Kankossa and the surrounding communities.
He spends much of the day with his cattle working, herding and feeding them. He teaches me Hussaniya proverbs and explains them to me in French. He refuses to speak to me in Hussaniya. He is smart, hard working, and seems very down-to-earth. He keeps the household running and all his kids on task.
My host mother, Molly, just returned from Nouakchott. She stayed there for the bulk of the hot season. Nouakchott is often an escape of the over-bearing heat for many people in rural areas. I like chitchatting with her one-on-one. She has a quick sense of humor...and teaches me quick, one-line, totally helpful phrases in Hussaniya...such as "my a neek" meaning "none of your business" and "ee laa," "hand it over."
There's the young Showclee who is my 4- or 5-year-old sister. An attitude with the likes I have to smile at. Most of the time she refuses to wear a majority of her clothes. I usually have to ask her where her clothes went. Generally the answer is discarded rapidly after she first had them on. Sometimes I give her piggyback rides...and she'll often be very interested in what I am doing in the garden. She is my favorite. I know you are not supposed to have favorites in a family, but I make an exception for her.
Caartooma, 16, is another one of my sisters, and I think is having a difficult time. A middle child, coming of age...no one really gives her much attention anymore. But man, can she dance. She makes the mulaffa move like I have never seen.
My older brother Mohammed Mahammoud, who is studying to become a school director in the city of Aioun, east of Kiffa, just returned home from school for break. He is a good son. I can tell my father is very proud of him. He is also studying French and sometimes we'll study together or he'll ask me questions about something. He basically constructed my fence for my garden for me with little help from me.
And Zeyne, the 9-year-old rascal, I teach him numbers and basic things in French. I can tell one day he will be a great man, and I hope he does great things for Mauritania.
Mohairy is a squirrely, bouncing- off-the-walls 11-year-old. She is intense. She makes dolls, dresses them in mulafas and has them make tea, similar to what any young girl in America might do...play teatime with dolls.
That is my family, with extended family always coming and going. I wrote about them in no particular order, just in the order I thought of them. They are here. They are real.
Their country is in the midst of change and as always the great struggle of development is the conflict between remaining one's own identity, keeping your cultural heritage while adding modern conveniences of technology such as electricity, cell phones, internet, so much influence from the outside world. A world they don't understand. It's moving towards them quickly, and I worry it may swallow them. Is there a balance?
I am also hoping to help them with their family cooperative. They asked for my help in financing a new fence for their cooperative garden, in which, they grow organic vegetables and sell in the local market. They have an acre of land on the lake in Kankossa. It's the least I can do for saying thank you for taking care of me during my time here.
If anyone wants to help this family cooperative and donate money that would help real people, go directly to them, not to some big non-face NGO, it would be appreciated. This would help them in the long-term and in years to come. If you are interested in helping, you can contact me my mail or e-mail. The addresses are as follows:
Donna Lenius, PCV
Corps de la Paix
BP 222
Nouakchott, Mauritania
West Africa
djlenius@gmail.com
