Kelly the Market Woman

On the stairs at the main entrance.

When Gustave Eiffel designed Dakar’s ornate Marche Kermel in the mid 1800s, he probably never imagined that, more than 150 years later, a beautiful young lady from Maine would make it her No. 1 grocery shopping venue.

Surrounded by traffic-jammed alleyways and child beggars packed with hawkers that speak little French behind rows of vegetable, fruit, fish and meat stalls, the lofty circular building in the centre of Dakar’s buzzing downtown area would intimidate most expats.

But not Kelly.

She arrives nearly every week, often wearing a brightly coloured African shirt, and always carrying her huge grass woven basket to fill with whatever’s in season.  

“Salamu Aleikum,” Kelly says – Arabic for God be with you – as she crosses beneath the high arching threshold and into the melee.  “Nangadef?” she adds – Wolof for how are you? Responses flood back from the market workers who, after three and a half years, now know Kelly well and seem to admire her.

“Ana wa keur?” they say – How is the family? “Et les jumeaux?” they say – How are the twins?Three languages so far, none of them English, and Kelly is in her element – a South Portlander in Senegal’s oldest and most storied urban markets.  Built in 1860 during the French colonial period, Kermel burnt to the ground in 1993. It considered such an important landmark – mingling colonial history, gorgeous architecture, and local color, - that it was rebuilt in 1997 in strict adherence to its initial structure and decoration.

On special weeks, Laird and Dylan accompany Kelly to the market. They tromp through puddles in their firemen and frog boots, often receiving many gifts from vendors. Laird and Dylan - who are called 'Ouseinou' and 'Assane' in Senegal according to the tradition that governs the naming of twins - are admired and adored. Like all twins, they are considered a special Gift from God. Senegalese believe that if a mother has three sets of twins, she wins a free pass to heaven when she dies. Just 2 more sets to go! Strangers tend to stop Laird and Dylan in the market, shake their hands, and touch their own hearts. After the greeting, they put a gift of fruit in their hands. Laird and Dylan leave the market with bellies full of tangerines, clementines, apples, and bananas.

In her early days in Kermel, Kelly had to haggle. In Senegal, negotiation is a method of getting to know someone. A person who caves easily has a weak character, and can expect to get little respect. One who can remain polite while whittling down the price with reasonable counter-offers and arguments, sprinkled with kind words of respect, is warmly appreciated. Kelly inherited a mastery for winning bargains – probably from her father – and has earned a record of halving prices almost effortlessly. (She once got a high-five from a street vendor who sold her a bag slightly over cost after four days of on-and-off discussions).

Now, though, the haggling is not required. Kelly is loved at Kermel and gets the local price for anything she wants, although she always leaves a 'cadeux' in their hand.

                           


                                                            

Kelly in action.

Enjoying a gift of oranges.

Fresh fish, caught this morning.

Entamoeba Histolytica

Entamoeba Histolytica

The Valdmanis family vacation to Maine was extended this summer by about three weeks, thanks to a one-celled creature that fell in love with Richard's liver. This was wonderful in a lot of ways - the kids got to spend more time with their cousins, aunts, uncles and grandparents on the beach. But it came at a cost.

Entamoeba Histolytica lives in water in the tropics and then hitches a ride with whoever is unlucky enough to drink it. Unfortunately, Rich managed to pick up some of these amoebas somewhere in West Africa during his travels for work. Its unclear where or how, exactly, as these things can hide undetected for a long time. But he started to notice it once we arrived in Maine for our annual summer visit. Needless to say, it cast a bit of a shadow over things.

It started as a mild belly pain that just wouldn't go away and it developed slowly as the days went by into a light fever, tremors, night sweats, and fatigue. It didn't immediately stop Rich from having fun -- two camping trips to Richmond Island, some good striper fishing, lots of lobstering, and days building sandcastles with the boys. But after July 4 it got to the point where a hospital visit seemed prudent.

"Have you been drinking alcohol lately?" the doctor asked.

"Well, yes, but..."

"How about barbequed food," he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"There has been some barbequeing, yes, but..."

"You have gastritis and maybe a virus of some kind," he said, dismissively before condemning Rich to a life without beer, chocolate, coffee, wine or anything remotely enjoyable.

"But I live in Africa, and I think I might have a..."

"Let's not get carried away, let's rule out the simple causes first," he said.

Needless to say he was wrong. On Rich's second visit to the ER a few days later  -- which happened immediately after he gave a speech on the dangers of a life in West Africa to an audience at the Scarborough Library (they all laughed when he wiped his brow and said he was headed to the emergency room later that evening) -- doctors advanced the diagnosis only slightly, by doing some additional tests.

"We have good news, Mr. Valdmanis, you have cryptosporidium," said a lady who called with results the next morning. "Its a protozoa that can cause stomach pain and fever. You can cure crypto with pills. You have an appointment with the infectious disease specialist first thing tomorrow and they'll take care of you," she said in a cheery tone.

Crypto! That was indeed good news. A diagnosis that seemed reasonable, and which had a name similar to the glowing green rock that troubled Superman. If you're going to be sick, its nice to have something cool-sounding to point to as the cause.

As it happened, we were headed out to Chebeague Island when we got that call. We'd planned to spend a night at the Chebeague Island Inn to celebrate our anniversary, and we weren't going to let a little illness get in the way. More reason to celebrate, now! 

Unfortunately the Crypto was not about to let Rich have much wholesome fun. After a brief reprieve while sipping sundown cocktails on the Inn's giant porch, Rich started getting the chills. Dinner became impossible. In fact standing upright shortly became impossible. We went up to the room, debating whether to take the boat back to Portland through the darkness, but in the end we decided to tough it out. The fever was quite insane that night, sort of a Hollywood version of a malarial fit. It was not something that gastritis would bring on. Damned crypto.

This picture was taken a few days before Rich was admitted to the hospital.  The ameba was thriving.

The next morning, the infectious disease specialist broke the news that Crypto, while present, was also unlikely to be the root of Rich's troubles. Our spirits sunk. More tests were ordered. 

We went home and Rich went straight to bed where he proceeded to shiver and shake and sweat for another 20 hours. When he rose, he looked pretty terrible. "I'm getting worse and no one knows what's wrong," he said. We were meant to move out of our house within 24 hours. We'd been there for a month already. We were days away from our flight back to Dakar. None of it seemed possible.

We called the infectious disease specialist who took a quick look at the previous day's blood test and said it was time for another visit to the emergency room. "Tell them to admit him until they find out what's wrong. Things look very serious," he told Kelly. Rich's blood test was essentially catastrophic.

"You've got the whole ER's attention," one of the nurses said as teams of doctors came in and out of the room trying different things. One of the rather barbaric tests was for typhoid: the doctor tied a tourniquet around Rich's arm and left it there for five minutes while the fingers on his hand turned pink, then blue, then deep purple, then black. "Nope, you don't have typhoid. You would've gotten a rash on your wrist," the doctor said as Rich struggled to revive his throbbing digits.

Rich got a catscan later that night, a much more comfortable experience, and then was sent up to a room in the ACE (Advanced Care for the Elderly) unit, a spot carved out for him because there's no 'Undiagnosed Tropical Diseases' unit at Maine Med yet.

At about 2 in the morning, a doctor came in, a bolt of light from the corridor shooting past his head, and said, "We've got it. The catscan showed you have an abscess on your liver the size of a tennis ball. You have entamoeba histolytica, a water-borne parasite that has attacked your liver. We'll begin treatment right away." (Kelly's sister, btw, was very concerned about Rich and managed to diagnose his illness a few hours earlier, using Web Md.)

Rich called Kelly. It was a very happy and emotional moment.

Entamoeba histolytica is Africa's second-most deadly parasite behind malaria and generally kills when, undiagnosed and untreated, it eventually explodes one's liver.  Apparently we're all evolved from amoebas, which begs the question why these ones are so hostile.

The next few days involved a surgical procedure and a lot of morphine for Rich, while Kelly sorted out the move and Uncle Rob rescheduled the flights (a time- and patience-consuming task for which he deserves a medal of honour).

It was another three weeks before Rich was healthy enough to fly. But those days were like an unexpected gift in a lot of ways.

Dust, Dust, and More Dust

Dust Views from our rooftop.

"Its really dusty there!" said Mark Rossetti over the phone.

Mark was standing at the Delta Airlines arrival counter in New York, luggage in tow. He had been hoping to arrive in Dakar the next morning for a visit, but had just been informed the flight was cancelled due to bad weather in Senegal. Not rain, not wind. Dust.

This is one of the hazards of living too close to the Sahara desert. When the wind blows for too long, from the wrong direction, a plume of fine sand fills the air. It can obscure the sun for days, interrupt air travel, and leave thousands of people with lingering coughs and black boogers. This dust cloud is apparently the worst since 2010.

Here's a sattelite image found on The Watchers website taken from NASA.

NASA image courtesy Jeff Schmaltz, LANCE/EOSDIS MODIS Rapid Response Team at NASA GSFC.

I spoke to the foreman at a construction site in Dakar today. He had some ideas about how to protect yourself from the dust, which some people believe can spread diseases like meningitis.

"Milk helps get the dust through the system. We also use masks when it is bad or go to the pharmacy to buy anti-dust pills. We're used to this, we know how to deal with it," he said during a break to sip heavily sugared Senegalese black tea.

Good news is that the cloud is meant to lift starting tomorrow. By the time Mark arrives on his rescheduled flight Sunday morning, we're looking at clear skies.

A footprint on our floor.

Wade allowed to run for 3rd term

We've been at home for the last 2 days as we awaited the verdict regarding the Constitution. Laird and Dylan certainly let us know they had a bad case of cabin fever, and out of desperation we went for a quick walk around the neighborhood today. All is calm and quiet right now, however there are warnings of riots and future demonstrations.

Below is the link for a story Richard wrote for Reuters.

http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/01/28/us-senegal-election-idUSTRE80R0LN20120128

Senegal opposition urges more 'resistance' after riots

12:31pm EST

By Diadie Ba

DAKAR (Reuters) - Senegal's opposition said on Saturday it would make the country "ungovernable" if President Abdoulaye Wade insisted on running for a third term in elections next month, raising the spectre of renewed riots in West Africa's most peaceful nation.

One policeman was killed during protests late on Friday, in which demonstrators threw rocks, overturned cars and burned tyres and security forces fired tear gas, after the country's top court said Wade had the right to seek a new term.

Calm returned to the capital Dakar by Saturday but security was boosted around the presidential palace, where truckloads of police in full riot gear were deployed, armed with tear gas grenade launchers and truncheons.

"Abdoulaye Wade has declared war on the people," Amath Dansakho, the head of the PIT party and member of the M23 opposition activist group, told reporters following a meeting with other political and civil society leaders.

"The decision that we have just made will prove to Wade that this is a country of free people. We will render the country ungovernable," he said.

Friday's clashes came after Senegal's top legal body validated the candidacy of 85-year-old Wade and 13 rivals for the February 26 vote, but turned down the presidential bid of world music star Youssou N'Dour, saying he did not have the required 10,000 signatures of support.

Wade's rivals say the constitution sets an upper limit of two terms on the president. But Wade, who came to power in 2000 and was re-elected in 2007, has argued his first term pre-dated the 2001 amendment establishing the limit.

M23 said in a press release on Saturday the court's decision was a "constitutional coup, and a prelude to what will be an electoral coup" and called on Senegalese across the country to resist Wade's re-election bid.

POLICEMAN KILLED

Senegal's interior ministry said on Saturday that a policeman was killed during Friday's clashes, which began after protesters that had gathered in a public square attempted to march towards the presidential palace.

The policeman "was gravely injured in the head by a brick that had been thrown, and he succumbed shortly afterward," the ministry said in a press release, adding security forces remained committed to preserving the peace.

A leading human rights activist and vocal critic of Wade, Alioune Tine, told Reuters by text message on Saturday afternoon that he had been arrested by Senegal's criminal investigation unit, but he could not give further details.

Wade had appeared on state television late on Friday appealing for calm and promising free and fair polls.

Senegal is the only country in mainland West Africa to have not had a coup since the end of the colonial era. February's poll, and a possible run-off a few weeks later, are seen as a test of social cohesion in the predominantly Muslim country.

Critics say that Wade, who spent 26 years in opposition to Socialist rule, has done nothing during his 12 years in power to alleviate poverty in a country where formal employment is scarce, and has dragged his heels on tackling official graft.

Wade points to spending on education and infrastructure projects such as roadbuilding as proof of progress towards turning Senegal into an emerging market country and a trade hub.

His candidacy has raised eyebrows abroad. The senior U.S. State Department official for Africa, William Fitzgerald, told French RFI radio that Wade's candidacy was "a bit regrettable."

Rival presidential hopeful Amsatou Sow Sidibe called on Wade to withdraw his candidacy voluntarily. "Peace and tranquility in Senegal depends on it," she told Reuters by telephone.

Reuters reporters late on Friday saw youths set fire to tyres and overturn cars in Dakar. Protests were also reported in the towns of Thies, Mbour, and Kaolack, where state radio said the local headquarters of Wade's liberal PDS were burned down.

(Writing and additional reporting by Richard Valdmanis; Editing by Myra MacDonald)

© Thomson Reuters 2011. All rights reserved. Users may download and print extracts of content from this website for their own personal and non-commercial use only. Republication or redistribution of Thomson Reuters content, including by framing or similar means, is expressly prohibited without the prior written consent of Thomson Reuters. Thomson Reuters and its logo are registered trademarks or trademarks of the Thomson Reuters group of companies around the world.

Thomson Reuters journalists are subject to an Editorial Handbook which requires fair presentation and disclosure of relevant interests.

This copy is for your personal, non-commercial use only. To order presentation-ready copies for distribution to colleagues, clients or customers, use the Reprints tool at the top of any article or visit: www.reutersreprints.com.

Valdmanis Prison

Front door

It's almost Christmas and our landlord blessed us with a gift of military style barbed wire surrounding our house. We are very happy about the added safety, however, our trees had to be drastically cut back in order to properly install the wire along the surrounding 10 ft wall of our house.

It looks like a prison. However, we will be safe inside. Not to mention we have for 4 guards, alarms, bars on all windows and doors, stun-gun, and mace. Oh yes, and 'robber rope'... For those of you that have not lived in a 3rd world country and have not heard the term 'robber rope' before: 'robber rope' is rope we have in various locations that will be used to tie up a robber.

Have left a message with Johnny Cash to see if he could come record an album from Valdmanis Prison.

It takes a village...

A highlight of our U.S. Thanksgiving weekend in Senegal was a two-day trip down to Popenguine, a little fishing village about two hours south of Dakar. We rented a house on the beach, swam in the sea, and ate leftover turkey. On our first morning there, we all decided to go for a long walk along the beach to town, before the sun got too hot.

On the way, we spotted about 10 men tugging on a thick rope that extended out into the ocean. About two hours later we returned from a stroll in town and the men were still pulling, and more people had gathered to watch and help. Birds were circling and diving. It felt like something was about to happen, so we decided to sit down in the sand and watch.

Laird and Dylan met some village kids and they all played together as we waited for the net to come in.

Given the amount of work, we expected the net to be teaming with fish. But when the men finally dragged it up onto dry sand, it contained barely anything. People from the village carrying empty plastic buckets rushed in and took what they could grab to go sell in the market. Children took the smallest fish, still alive, from the nets and put them in bottles of sea water to watch them swim. The men unfurled the net and put it up onto the beach in preparation for another day.

Finally, the net is on shore.

The ladies gathering the few fish that were in the net.

Disappointment

"We put the net out when the sea is calm, like today," said one of the wizened old fishermen, wearing a blue wool cap. He said they paddle a pirogue several hours before sunrise to set the net about 400 meters from shore, then they pull it in after first light.

"When we catch real fish, we sometimes sell them as far away as Rufisque and Thies," he said, refering to towns about an hour away. "But today we caught nothing."

Laird and Dylan were blown away by the whole scene and said 'fish' for most of the rest of the day.

Laird saying, 'Oh. Oh. Ohhhhh.' while watching the net.

Dylan loves the sand!

Letting the net rest for another day.