Thanksgiving at Home

Will be in the United States from November 23 until December 10, celebrating Thanksgiving in North Carolina with my family.

Senegal - The Gambia Soccer Match

I have a story for you.....one that just wouldn't have happened in many other places.....

To try and make a long story short, a bunch of Volunteers went to the Senegal-Gambia soccer game last Saturday. A lot was on the line...a loss or a tie would mean elimination from World Cup qualifying. Soccer combined with national pride is huge.

Unlike stadiums in the States, Stade L.S.S. is broken into seating sections that are separated from each other with large fences. Also, once a section is "full", doors are shut preventing people from entering or exiting. The purpose of this system is to theoretically prevent fans from becoming too unruly and that unruliness spreading throughout the stadium.

Most of us all got separated so didn't manage to sit together due to the fact that the match was over sold and each section was shut closed while a couple thousand paying fans still had yet to get into the stands. This created a scene as fans were banging on section doors to try and get to seats. There were a few tense moments. It is also important to know, that frustration with the Senegalese power company had already fueled tension during the week and weekend due to widespread power outages.

Finally, just before half-time, as everyone had broken into smaller groups, we made it into the stadium. We squeezed into the north-east section of the stadium.

In the second half, Senegal scored and was up 1-0. The stadium was in jubilation. That all changed with a few minutes to go in the match when The Gambia scored and tied the game 1-1. We should have left at this point, but had no idea what was about to come.

As the clock ticked away, fans on the east side of the stadium above the players tunnel began throwing plastic bottles and such on the field. The game ended and the object throwing intensified. Each individual on the field was being escorted off the shield with riot police with their shields up for protection.

Chaos erupted and spread. The section barriers (8 foot tall - 150 feet long metal fences) were toppled on our side of the stadium. Large, heavy cement blocks that acted as steps going up the sections were being picked up by groups of people and being thrown down the sections. Large advertisement banners were being ripped down and their wooden backings were being thrown onto the field.

Being in the middle of this, you could see the rage in many of these peoples eyes in which you knew there was little that could be done to stop them. Scary feeling to have.

We really didn't know what to do, but felt that the stands would clear out, so we decided to move to the top of the stands. Chaos was still within feet of us but there were other bystanders doing the same thing as us. As we are standing at the top of the stands, we look out at Patte d'Oie, where streams of black smoke from burning tires has already begun.

After about 10 to 15 minutes of waiting in the stands we decided that we had to make a decision. Things in the stadium weren't getting better and we were concerned that the police might open fire with tear gas and such on our section. At the same time, police at the bottom of the section by the entrance were waving for us to get out.....so we did.

Entering the bottom of the stairwell after exiting our section, there was broken glass everywhere. Every glass pane had been shattered separating the stairwell to the outside.

We got outside and the smell of tear gas was in the air...a lot of it. Black smoke was everywhere. Mayhem was rampant. Rocks and such were being thrown.

We started running with the plan to go to my old house in Patte D'Oie until things calmed down. About 75 yards of running, we got grabbed a little bit, but somehow I started getting grabbed/mobbed a lot and I became separated from the group I was with. What is a lot.....between 60 - 100 people swarming me, grabbing every part of my body.

I would loosely break free and then get swarmed again. As this is going on, I am getting hit with rocks, but the adrenaline prevented me from feeling much. My camera was in my hand because I was previously worried about pick-pocketers, now, it was being ripped out of my hands....their was nothing I could do, but let go.

At this point, I was so disoriented, that at one point, I wished that I would just get knocked out. There was little I could do, and that is a scary thing.

Finally, I got pressed against a wall (basically at the end of the stadium property on the east side) and some guys told me to sit down. I couldn't think nor did I want to trust them, but I had no choice. One of the guys slightly pulled my green polo shirt down and realized that I had a Senegalese jersey on up underneath. I think he and some of the others felt stupid after that but things were far from over for me.

They told me to take my polo shirt off and stand up to show that I was "one of them". The second I stood up, I felt I heard others stupidity at realizing I was a Senegalese fan, but I also got hit square on the head with a rock. Of all the rocks I got hit with, that is the only one I actually remembered.

I don't really remember the process of what happened next, but I somehow made it into a family compound where I was told to hide. At this point, I also had 'helpers'. I like to think of them as instigators as well, but I had no choice but to trust...a lot was on the line.

In the compound, I was completely out of it, mentally and physically. I could barely feel my head, hands and shoulders were scratched up, but not much bleeding. I ended up going to the bathroom to throw up....don't know if it was from the rocks, adrenaline, or being scared to death.
The door was being banged on, but the lady's who compound it was, refused to open it. I felt bad putting her in a situation like this, but really had no choice in the matter.

I still had my phone somehow so after about 10 minutes of collecting myself as best as I could, I was able to get in contact with my group, who had been brought to another compound by these 'helpers'. It was really shady because these 'helpers' knew where I was and knew where they were...it just seemed fishy, but not much we could do....and nothing I could do at this point. Also, I was in contact with Peace Corps, but at the time, it was nearly impossible to relay the severity of what was happening.

After about 30 minutes, I was able to meet up with those in my group, where we stayed in the compound they were in for about 5 minutes. Finally, with one of the 'helpers', we weaved through the neighborhood we were in to get to my old house. You could feel the tension and hostility in the air. I looked like a war zone. The major roads were blocked with burning tires.

Making it home to Patte d'Oie was the first time in the ordeal that I felt safe. My host mom, was amazing as well as concerned. After a few minutes, I gave my 'helper' some money so he would leave.

We stayed at my old house for about 45 minutes before leaving. As we were walking, we surprisingly came across a group of Peace Corps trainees who were waiting in a family compound for safety. They also have an interesting story about the evening.

Eventually, a Peace Corps Land Cruiser came to pick everyone up. The trainees were taken to the Regional House and I was brought to Peace Corps to be checked out by a doctor and then was ordered to spend the night there as a precaution.

Sunday morning, I felt a lot better but the bumps on the head were still there as well as some cuts, but nothing major.

I was lucky.

--------------------------------------

As to why I was singled out, I am unsure. My major theory is that because I was running when I was being grabbed, I think it may have looked like I did something to anger someone and was trying to get away, so everyone started to grab me.

Another theory is that they thought I was a Gambian fan, but I am unsure why. Regardless, what happened to me, shouldn't have happened to anyone.

--------------------------------------

Am I angered....no. I wish things hadn't been the way they had, but nothing I can do about it. Out of all the Volunteers at the game, I'm glad it happened to me, just having a sense of familiarity with the neighborhood and such and having some minor experience with riots/tear gas here.....this was just much grander than past experiences. Needless to say, it was nice when Sunday began.

---------------------------------------

Finally, I had some great pictures of the match and scenes in the stadium as the chaos was going on, so that is what I'm somewhat bummed most about. The images would explain so much more. What happened is not something I've ever seen in the US nor can many Americans really fathom or understand most likely.....there are similarities between the US and here, but many differences as well, good and bad.

So I just got home from work and turned on the TV and an American Classic was on TV, "Escape from Alcatraz." It was dubbed in French, but what a great movie. It was towards the end, but I decided to finish watching it.

It was a nice little surprise.

Also today, the minute I got out of the cab, I headed across the street to the grocery store and as I was paying, Bon Jovi started playing. That alone makes it a rare and good day.

Hope everyone is doing well.

Pictures from tournee (September 18 - 21)

With the start of my third year, I have been able to go out and visit with urban agriculture Volunteers. Not only is it great to go out and see different sites and see how I can support them, but for someone who rarely got out of Dakar in his first two years, it is a cool way to visually see the country (a lot of time is spent in a Land Cruiser on the road)

This last tournee I went on, my boss and I visited Mbour, Kebemer, Linguere, Richard Toll, St Louis, and Louga. Enjoy

http://share.shutterfly.com/share/received/welcome.sfly?fid=8716ad8f412f3a56&sid=1IZsnLNo4YsLS

Pictures from atop downtown Dakar

Here are some photos taken from my buddy's apartment downtown. Think you might enjoy.

http://share.shutterfly.com/share/received/welcome.sfly?fid=395a60f18d9111f1&sid=1IZsnLNo4YsLw

Madelyn Jane Schoenfisch

While I am a little late getting this up, my sister and her husband had Madelyn Jane Schoenfisch on September 12. I couldn't be happier for Ash and Mark and really can't wait to see little Madelyn, apparently sooner than later.

Dakar Floods

Just wanted to post some pictures that new Dakar Volunteer, Jared Tharp took. They were taken in Patte D'oie, my old neighborhood. This pictures were taken the day after it rained, so the water levels are much lower than they were when it rained the night before. Enjoy and stay dry!

For any of you that have had breakfast breakfast at the Land household or attended a Matson family gathering at our mountain house, then you've probably had Swedish pancakes. They are pretty much to die for, especially when you load them up with powdered sugar, syrup, and being thousands of miles away from home.
With the ability to cook now at my apartment, I decided to take a stab at this traditional family staple. The recipe said it would make 16, I managed to get 8 out of it, which was primarily due to the fact that they were a lot thicker than they should, but they tasted just as good.

As I talk about food, I must also mention that the Muslim holy month of Ramadan started yesterday in Senegal. It is a time when Muslims around the world fast. As I said the past two years, it is really cool time to been in a Muslim culture and see people's faith at work.

Last year, I decided to fast for about two weeks, waking up around 5 am to have breakfast with the family and then go all day without food or water (some cheat and have water) until sun down. It is tough and I definitely have a greater respect for those who make it through the entire month.

This year is far different. Because I no longer live with a family and somewhat live the same life as I would be in the States, Ramadan has not affected me too much and I guess we can say that I'm not fasting this time around...my deli sandwich and leftover mashed potatoes for lunch today were really good.

But, but for all the Muslims in Senegal and around the world, this is your month....Bon Ramadan

Trip home....one last story...I think

The other day in Atlanta, I took MARTA up to Buckhead from Atlantic Station to meet a friend for lunch. I took the bus and then subway up there. Public transportation in the US is far different than in Senegal. While I found it to be far more reliable it felt sterile and lacked character.

On my return trip, I decided to just take a cab back to my buddy's house. I got in the cab and told him the address. He asked me if I was from Atlanta and I told him I lived in Africa. He went further and asked where and I told him Senegal.

It turns out he was Somalian but when civil war struck he moved to Dakar for 3 years and lived in a neighborhood adjacent to my old one. It was another cool encounter. We spoke in English and Wolof talking about the things that make Senegal great...food and hospitality. Also, we talked about how Senegal has changed since his days there. He had been in the US for 11 years driving taxis.

As we do in Senegal, I tried to negotiate the fare (in Senegal set fares don't exist and negotiation is done prior to entering cab). We both laughed as my wallet cried.

It's a small world.