Kelly Quatre-Quatre (4x4) - Pronounced 'Kelly Cat Cat'

Nothing but desert ahead.

I could feel the blood rushing into my face as the car engine strained and then cut out. The entire Valdmanis Team Africa was suddenly stuck in a desert, seated comfortably inside our new Kia Sportage, which had become a virtual solar oven. It was over 100 degrees outside. I turned the key to restart the car, checked the four-wheel-drive was engaged, shifted into first and gunned it. Again the engine strained, but the wheels wouldn't turn and we stalled. I imagined lightly roasted Valdmanii as I looked around at the sand, a tall dune on either side of us, I wondered how we'd survive this latest adventure.

We were doing a day-trip from Dakar to Lac Rose, a lagoon so salty that when the sun catches it right, it appears pink -- hence the name. Apparently, it's 5 times more salty than the sea. On the south side of the lake, artisinal harvesters tend to mountains of the salt dredged from the lake bed, loading it up onto trucks bound for the markets of Dakar and Thies. On the north side, a lonely dirt track leads to a few quiet inns, horse stables and restaurants. We had just finished lunch at one of these restaurants, run by a French chef, and had inquired whether it was possible to circumnavigate the lake.

"If you have four wheel drive, it should be possible," was the response.

I was now regreting our choice to try. We'd followed the track, which quickly disappeared into abroad expanse of sand. We managed to climb a first large dune and slide down its side into a low area, and we were now imprisoned by hills of deep, thick sand all around us. I imagined Kelly and I having to carry Laird and Dylan under the opressive sun to go find help. I imagined the trouble we'd need to go through to find a truck tough enough to drag us out. Would we be stuck here for the night? For days? That's when Kelly Quatre-Quatre arrived like a super hero, occupying the body of my lovely wife.

"Calm down, you'll upset the boys," she said in a relaxed tone. "I'll take care of this, let me drive."

I got out of the car and Kelly Quatre-Quatre (Quatre-Quatre is four-by-four in French, and is pronounced "Cat-Cat") got into the driver's seat. She put the car into reverse and backed up 100 yards along the dune to the top.

"Reverse is the strongest gear," she informed as a wave of relief came over me.

We could now easily roll down the dune to the more solid dirt road and return to Dakar the wat we came, I thought. At that moment, two men from the village appeared and suggested that, instead of retreating down the dune like wimps, we should deflate our tires a bit and continue on the rest of the way.

"It should be possible," they said. "You just need to deflate your tires."

I was dubious, but Kelly Quatre-Quatre was full of confidence. She was certainly ready for a challenge. We allowed some air out of the tires, cranked up the car and waved our goodbyes to the encouraging villagers.

Kelly Quatre-Quatre gunned it down the dune and started plowing through the desert like a pro, the car rim-deep in sand. The steering wheel was cranked all the way to the right, yet we were going straight. The farther we went, the more nervous I felt. We were leaving help, water, a real road in our wake. A large dune loomed ahead. Kelly Quatre-Quatre downshifted and started the climb. At a snail's pace, the car rose up the hill and, impossibly, reached the top. Another descent, another hill. My heart was beating, as Laird and Dylan cooed in the back, clearly feeling the excitement.

"This is awesome," Kelly Quatre-Quatre whispered with excitement.

"Who are you?" I thought to myself.

A kilometer or two through the sand and we spotted some vegetation, and then, in the distance, evidence of a building, which surely meant a road. The engine continued to strain. We climbed the last sand hill and then dipped between some palm trees and cactuses and onto a potholed dirt track, home free.

"There, that's how its done," Kelly Quatre-Quatre said as we high-fived. "Now you drive."

I got into the driver's seat, and my lovely wife hopped in beside me.

Two of the locals letting air out of the tires.

Look how deep these wheels are buried!

And of course, camels...after all, it was the desert.

Laird looking out at the Salt Lake at the restaurant.

Dylan asleep with his beloved new Senegalese plane.

Writing a letter & threatening protests = 2-5 years in jail

An emergency message for the embassy:

'This message is to inform U.S. citizens in Senegal that the outcome of the trial of an opposition party member which occurred today that could result in civil disorder and demonstrations in and around Dakar. On October 10th, 2011, Malick Noel Seck, leader of a minor political youth group, signed and delivered an open letter to the President of the Constitutional Court threatening him with violence if the Court validates President Wade’s candidacy for a third term in office. He was arrested and faced a maximum sentence of five years in jail. This morning the court in Dakar sentenced Mr. Seck to two years in prison. Mr. Seck’s supporters threatened demonstrations and previously called on their members to "burn" the country if the accused was sentenced to jail. Counter-protests may also be likely, which could further destabilize the situation. U.S. citizens are urged to use caution in the coming days should protests be called as a result of this decision and to avoid demonstrations should they come upon them.

While most demonstrations in Senegal are non-violent, the potential for violence exists, particularly in this period prior to the planned Presidential elections in February 2012.'

Another attempt

Tabaski is fast approaching...a sacred muslim holiday. Families put all their money into purchasing a goat for the holiday celebration meal. The type of goat and price is often a reflection of status; the more expensive the goat, the better. (Yet it all tastes the same, doesn't it?)

A few nights ago, we had another break in attempt.

Rich and I bolted out of bed to the sound of a guard's whistle frantically blowing and then several voices yelling in Wolof.

I wish I had the ability to properly describe the feeling of what it is like to go from sleeping deeply, to running down the hall as fast as you can, armed with mace, a siren, a hockey stick, and telephone to Laird and Dylan's room. Words you don't understand are being shouted from every direction and echoing throughout the house.

Was the robber inside the house? Was he on the balcony? On the roof? WHERE? Are my children okay?

I am trying to make peace with the evenings events by looking at it as though it were a success on our part. We learned A LOT from our last robbery. We made a lot of interior and exterior changes, as well as stepping up security from 1 guard to 4. Our team of guards did a great job.

Needless to say, the robber climbed a wall to gain access to our property and attempted to climb a nearby mango tree to gain access to the balcony. A guard saw the robber, blew his whistle to wake us, as well as to alert other guards to come lend a hand. Guards threw rocks at the robber and chased him away.

**Note: As I was writing this entry, the doorbell rang. 40 meters of barbed wire will be installed next week.

2 times in 7 months. Not very good stats, if you ask me.

But, we are ready. We will not get sloppy. We will check and recheck every door and window every night. This last attempt was a reminder to stay on our toes.

How to clean up trash in Dakar...

The owner of the construction site next to our house told us workers would be cleaning up salvage construction materials and the trash today. We were excited. Until we saw this:

The sight and smell of burning plastic is awful, not to mention what this is doing to the environment and physical health. This is how getting rid of trash is done here.

Hard to believe though, that Africa represents only a small fraction, 3.6%, out of the total carbon dioxide (CO2) emissions per year, yet 14% of the population of the world lives here.

Guess who's #1?

Snuggling a Lobster and Blue Dog Under the Stars...

A long overdue, but special entry...

On our way to the island in the Valdmanis boat.

Laird and Dylan camped on Richmond Island in mid-July, braving the three-mile boat ride from the Spurwink River with their parents to visit one of Maine's most storied and magical spots. It was one of the highlights of our trip to Maine this summer.

We got there early enough to swim and frolick, eat wild raspberries, and search for seashells. We spotted the rams in the meadow, and counted fishing boats steaming by offshore. After hours of fun, our main concern was that they wouldn't take kindly to getting zipped up in a tent at 7pm, when the sun was still comfortably off the horizon.

But our fears were ill-placed. They were tired and out like lights within minutes, Laird sucking on his blue dog, and Dylan snuggling his lobster as the lapping of waves lulled them into dreamland.

Laird, asleep sucking his beloved Blue Dog.

Dylan snuggling his Lobster under the stars.

That gave Mom and Dad time to enjoy the sunset and later the stars, with frosty beers in front of the beach fire. Richmond is one of the most lovely places on earth -- the indians had clam bakes there hundreds of years ago, the explorer Jacques Cartier admired it in his journal on his way to the St. Lawrence seaway, and more recently, Tim and Lindy Nudd fell in love there by the light of a campfire.

Its nice that Laird and Dylan, at only 18 months, have found it too.

Sand, sand, and more sand.

Mom and Laird

Teaching the boys about the fire pit. Laird kept saying 'Hot. Hot'.

And what a wonderful way to start the day...an early morning breakfast as the sun rises above the sea, surrounded by Canadian Geese.

First Day of School

In Dakar, there aren't many 'children's' activities. There are no library reading groups, children's museums, and playgrounds and playgroups are limited. Parents have to be very creative to keep our kids stimulated and happy. We are lucky enough to have beaches and pools, but there is a severe lacking of educational or even social children's activities.

Today, the boys attended their first day of french 'preschool'.

The school is a GEM. Being a teacher, it is everything I imagined a school to be, but in Africa! Third world country Africa, no less!

At the door, the boys were greeted by the 'Gnome farm'. After signing in, and meeting their teacher (who only spoke French to them), they went straight to the library where they read French books with another teacher. (Shockingly, this was THEIR choice...not the car area, or the tool-time center, or even the activity center!) There was a little confusion, as their English words for 'fish, moon, car, and truck' were corrected with 'poisson, lune, voiture, and camion'.

After that they played with cars, cooked in the kitchen, played dress up, trampoline bouncing, and even enjoyed a room full of balls. The boys were squeeling with excitement.

It was a wonderful afternoon 'test run'... in fact, both boys cried when it was time to leave. After the tears stopped, the boys sang 'E-I-E-I-Oooooo' all the way home.

I however, shed a private tear, that my little babies, are growing up way too fast.

Je taime Laird and Dylan. ox

Enjoy the pics below. Also attached is a video of Dylan having a blast!

Going to school!

My little monkey.

Reading French books.

Aren't these murals AWESOME?!

Could life be any better? Rocking on a horse AND playing with cars and trucks?!!!

Laird and Dylan not happy about leaving the school at the end of the day. They are showing me their 'I'm not happy' face.

Dark Days in Dakar

At the end of June, someone flicked a switch in Dakar and the city turned into a riot zone. Hundreds, and then thousands, of people turned up downtown on the morning on June 23 to protest a scheduled vote in parliament that would have altered the constitution -- a vote many believed would have paved the way to President Abdoulaye Wade's reelection in February and his eventual replacement by his son Karim. Within an hour, the protest escalated -- fueled in part by facebook and twitter updates that lured even more youths into the streets. Demonstrators hurled rocks at police, who in turn fired tear gas and water cannons back. Cars were set on fire, roads were blocked, buildings were ransacked. A high-profile human rights activist was brutally beaten by Wade loyalists, and one of Wade's staunchest allies was evacuated from his home before hordes of angry youths broke in. Residents of the downtown area were shocked later that evening by the sea of broken concrete and burnt out vehicles left in the riot's wake.

This was a massive wake up call for Wade's government. Senegal's greatest asset since independence, some believe, has been its relative security in a part of the world that is otherwise rife with violence and turmoil. Basically, its not as bad as everywhere else in the neighbourhood. Many of the companies, aid groups and world bodies that had fledIvory Coast during its first civil war in 2002 set up shop in Dakar, using the seaside city as a regional base.

Against the backdrop of the Arab uprisings, and with additional pressure from Senegal's Muslim brotherhoods, Wade withdrew his planned constitutional rejigs before parliament could finish its session that day. The question now is whether this concession will be enough to pull Senegal back from the brink. After two terms in office, Wade still plans to run in February, dismissing a rising chorus from his opponents that he rennounce his candidacy. Power outages also remain a worry -- the lights are staying on slightly more reliably since the protests in late June, but routine blackouts continue -- a problem that has become deeply political. Can Senegal preserve its cherished reputation as West Africa's most stable and democratic state?

The above photo is credited to BBC News. For more photos from the BBC, please click here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-13892506

Gary the White Warlock

When Kelly's dad Gary yanked off his thumb, he let out a yell, and then quickly put it back on. Shocked, the five children who had been watching this strange 'toubab' ( the Wolof word for anyone who isn't black' ) turned and ran shrieking into the maze of houses lining the dusty street near the fisherman's beach of Soumbedioune. It isn't often that a white guy with no hair wanders through this part of town, let alone one who stops to display his magical powers. Within a couple of minutes more than a dozen kids ran back toward Gary, the white warlock, for another show.

"Owwwwwch!!!" Gary said as he pulled off his thumb again. This time, the kids who have seen it before stand bravely watching while several of the others' jaws drop open as they turn to run.

Another demonstration, and then another and Gary reveals the trick, the kids laughing and smiling as they trip over eachother for a closer look and try to immitate it.

This was the scene last week on Gary and Cilla's last day in Senegal, during a quick trip to a tailor's shop in this neighborhood of Dakar. And it wasn't the first time they drew a crowd during their week-long visit. Everywhere they went, they made friends, and the kids particularly loved and feared Gary's antics.

"Toubab!!!" they would yell as they spotted him driving by along the Petite Cote. At a beachside village, Gary drew yet another youthful mob, frightening several of them half to death with his 'yank the thumb off' trick, and giving the other half a laugh they will likely never forget. It was unclear if he was reinforcing their superstitions about witches and warlocks

and strange gri-gri, or eroding them.

It wasn't just the Senegalese kids that enjoyed Gary and Cilla's visit -- the entire Team Valdmanis Africa did, and we're all very grateful. Laird and Dylan were over the moon to see Nana and Grampy in Africa, and Dylan is still making the duck noises Gary taught him. Both of them say 'Nana' often. They had incredible fun swimming at Toubab Dialaw, oggling the giraffes and rhinos at Bandia, and playing in the inflatable pool at home. And of course Kelly and I were thrilled to see familiar faces from home here in Dakar to share some of our experience first hand.

Thank you Gary and Cilla!

SOCCER RIOTS

After a nice afternoon at Virage beach, Kelly, Laird, Dylan and I strolled back to our car in the parking lot. There were lots of people sitting in cars, doors open and radios broadcasting the same soccer match.

“Who’s playing?” I asked.

“Senegal is playing in Cameroon,” someone answered.

We started loading up our car and as I was about to get into the driver’s side, a cab slowed down next to me and said – “Where are you headed?” I answered we were on our way back to Almadies.

“Don’t go that way. There are power outages and lots of rioting.” He seemed to be huffing and puffing.

This odd comment made sense to me, though. Senegalese are serious about soccer, and when the power goes out in the middle of a big grudge match, it often means riots. On the road between Virage beach and our house, there are dozens of charred circles marking the spots where tires have been set ablaze by frustrated sports fans.

I thanked the cabby and we headed up to the junction of the main road and had a glance in the direction of our neighbourhood. There was no sign of trouble except for the few dozen cars driving in reverse in our direction. We decided to take the long way home, the opposite direction and around the airport, hoping not to run into any other riots.

We heard later that there had been loads of rock-throwing and that the Senegalese riot police arrived and fired off some tear gas canisters. Things calmed down after a while and word started to filter that Senegal had prevented a Cameroonian win – good news as the teams jockey for a spot at the 2012 African Nations Cup.

Riots also happened in Cameroon apparently… Cameroon had needed the win for a solid chance at qualifying, but its captain, Samuel Eto’o missed a penalty kick and instantly turned from national hero to pariah. Unfortunate fans in Cameroon wearing Eto’o shirts had them ripped off their backs by angry mobs.

People in Senegal and Cameroon have bigger problems than how their teams do in soccer – but it’s the soccer that seems to get them into the streets.