Beeware of the Well and What's Work

Beeware of the Well

We have officially entered the hot-dry season in Senegal, with temperatures over 100 degrees during the day, and having had no substantial rain since early November. As we get deeper into the hot season, before the rains come in late May, most small streams and ponds have been drying up, leaving the Gambia river as the only local above-ground water source.

It never occured to me before arriving, but bees need water to make honey, and as all of the natural above-ground sources disappear in the woods, the little yellow and black soldiers have been coming into the villages on water missions. They swarm around our well and our hand pump to get any water that is spilled on the ground, and even to drink from the buckets as they are pulled out of the well.

The women walk calmly into the swarm and throw their bucket down into the well, pulling out load after load. Having faced my fear of baboons, I thought bees would be easy. So I centered my zen and walked right into the swarm. Just as I finished filling my bucket I was stung on the wrist. I thought I just hadn't found my peace with the bees.

The next day I tried again, taking a deep breath and trying to "be one with the bees." But this time I somehow managed to infuriate a particular bee who started taking nose dives at my face. I started dancing around, swatting him away and swinging the bucket at him, but finally gave up and fled. The angry bee hadn't finished with me, though, and gave chase, swinging around in front of me and stinging me right smack on my upper lip. While a painful experience for me, my ballet with the bee provided a good piece of entertainment for the villagers watching.

The following morning I was determined to outwit the bees. The girl who served in my village before me said she had left some bee-keeping equipment in my hut. So before heading out to pull my water I suited up in full bee-keeping garb, complete with a mask and heavy leather gloves. I expected the villagers to fall over laughing at how ridiculous I looked, but while some giggled, most had an unexpected response: "Boubacar, that is a really nice suit."



What's Work

Last Friday, I had the busiest day of my Peace Corps service.

In anticipation of the rains in May or June, my first busy AgFo work season has arrived. In order to give trees a decent chance of survival, many species need to be started in a nursery for a few months so they get a chance to become seedlings before outplanting them to their permanent homes. We try to outplant our trees at the beginning of the rainy season so they can be watered regularly for the first few months after outplanting, so we are beginning our nurseries (or pepinieres, as we refer to them) right now.

So last Friday, I had to go to four villages to arrange days to come out and do pepiniere training sessions. I left my village in the morning, and then spent my day going to the farmers in the villages and asking them to prepare the locally available materials needed (manure, sand, ash). In the evening I went to the biggest town near me - not Kedougou but a smaller town named Saraya - to have a meeting with the director of the local radio station there. This Saturday night another Malinke speaking volunteer and I will be hosting a one-hour show, completely in Malinke, about how to construct a tree nursery, while also playing music of our choice.

Finally, after 120 kilometers on the road, I made my way back to my village, exhausted and barely able to move, but feeling satisfied with a productive day of work.