A week in the rabbithole

It's weird to think that we have been here for a week already. In some ways it feels like it was only yesterday that we followed mr. Rabbit into his hole. Usually when travelling somewhere, you kind of get a grasp of stuff after having stayed there for a week. Here in this wonderland however, I just keep running into completely new things, situations and different ways of understanding the world.

Just last Sunday evening I went with our hostfather to the shop. It was quite dark out, so I'm not sure if I was asked for the company's sake, or because of my headtorch. In any case, we walked along in the dark between the mudbrick houses and large tents, and had one of those conversations you have when you barely know a word of the other's language. Quite awkward really. At some point, I pointed to his toe (he sprained it some time ago(I think)) and asked "Läbääs?" - Good? The answer sounded: "Läbääs, läbääs" - Good, good. 'Nuf said.

On account of his toe (at least I think that was why), we got a ride by his friend back home. Not in a car, but on the back of a lorry. Quite exhilarating really. It was me, Bishiri (hostdad) and a few other local boys clinging to the loading deck of this lorry, zigzagging on hardly-visible roads, littered with rocks and sand. In pitch black darkness. Must admit I was a bit scared of falling off a couple of times, especially when we made sharp turns - me not knowing the driver and all. For all I knew, he could have had horrible vision. Could have been real short-sighted or something. I've heard they don't really get glasses down here...
Luckily, faith was on our side that night, and we all made it back in one piece - just in time for tea! Not that that actually says much. You see, in Western Sahara, just like in Wonderland, tea time - is all the time. These tea crazed refugees make even the most homegrown Brit seem like an amateur. And just like Alice at the hatmaker's table in Wonderland, I'm still working on making sense of not only the tea habbits, but most of the stuff happening around here.

Just as the Saharawis think that having a toilet seat is strange, we think teaching in a dark classroom with the only source of light being the window is exotic, strange and challenging. Eivind's classroom door doesn't close, Sunniva's advanced class struggle with grasping the verb 'I have' and my class shows up thirty minutes after we supposedly have started. On a good day, that is. Yet, we find our role as teachers very interesting. Being a teacher gives us a time where we are in full control of the situation- a stark contrast to the rest of our 21 hours of the day. Being in control can be demanding and sometimes even difficult. On Tuesday, while attempting to explain personal pronouns to my students, one woman entered my class. This was about one hour into my lesson, but instead of asking if she could join she simply took over, greeted all individual students in the very long, traditional Saharawi way (how are you, how is your family, I'm fine, Mohammed is fine, Fatima is fine... inshalla) and upon finishing the once-so-nice tradition sat down on a empty chair looking at me like she had won a battle. This whole thing took five minutes at least, and believe me, I tried to get her to sit down! Now, it turned out that the woman didn't speak a word of English and after a while she left my class. I'm adapting to the new Saharawi culture, and have after a while realised to expect everything. I'm not surprised anymore if the classroom is covered in sand when entering the centre, or if my student have to go outside to chat with her friend for the 17th time the very same hour. I have at least made them go outside! All three of us, Sunniva, Eivind and I, are enjoying the time at the centre. We have become close friends with some of our students already and despite cracked black boards and lack of paper, we are slowly adapting to this new role. Right now, we simply hope that our students will show up after this weekend. Inshalla.

We have been in the Sahara Desert for about 72 hours and have used more than a kilo of sugar. Mostly in all our cups of tea, but also in our breakfast drink which consists of soy milk, grains and.. yes you guessed it; sugar. Our Saharawi family is lovely and very patient. We have all received the mandatory tea-training and are slowly getting a grasp of all the tea terminology. While the whole process takes over an hour, with Western help it probably takes twice the amount of time. To our family's entertainment, we have all started doing the dishes, which would not have been so fun without Eivinds presence. Including a man in the kitchen is strange for most Saharawis, and consequently Eivind is sent out for more water- which is a man's job. In addition to our new family life, we have also started to teach English at the local community centre. With doors that don't close, cracked blackboards, cold class rooms and a thin lay of sand everywhere the teaching situation is challenging. The only source of light comes from a little window where we also have a view of the incredible Sahara Desert. Upon arrival, we were told that the Sahara winter was cold and harsh, yet in our experience, the sand has currently proved to be the most difficult issue. We have sand in our socks, suitcases, sleeping bags, cameras, cell phones, tooth brushes- indeed every possible cracks and crebices. However these challenges are minor and overall we are enjoying the Sahara Desert, our lovely host family, our students, the food, the language and the incredible stars at night.

Culture?

"Men and women are equals," said our uncle while helping us carry the food from the living room to the kitchen. But after putting the food down on the kitchen floor, womens rights was not a subject just a matter of culture. In Saharawi culture their are many conflicting traditions. On the one hand women have to do the dishes and men have to get water, on the other hand women are represented in the camps' councils by at least 90 %. The women are in charge of organizing the rations of food that the camps receive from humanitarian organizations. So when can you talk about equal rights and when can something be classified as culture? Are you discriminating when you say that men can't do the dishes because it is a womens job, or is that simply one's traditon?

First Impression

20 hours in the camps, 9 cups of tea, a new family, new language(s) and "very cold" weather. When we landed in the Algerian military city of Tindouf, Marianne was asked to marry one of the customs officers. Unfortunately for him, we were immediately rushed onwards to meet with the Saharawi coordinator of the project, Abba. Eivind was carrying his small Norwegian flag on the outside of his back pack, but then the Algerian police saw the flag and wanted it for themselves. And after a quite forceful persuation the flag was bequeathed.

We were escorted by the police to the Saharawi territorium in a old car while listening to the techno song Sandstorm. Watching the night turn dark we realized that there was no turning back. We had finally arrived!

We came into our new home, sat on the floor and got the traditional three cups of tea (sugger with tea). My name that usually is so hard to pronounce in English was the easiest of them all. The called me Sinia, a Saharawi name. Since I got a Saharawi name they called it out in joy, and I felt that I was a part of them already. But the language diferences made communication difficult. Abba translated what the many visitors said, but most of the time I tried to say all the Arabic words I could remember. I still have a long way to go before I become a real Saharawi.

Bon soir from the city of lights!

Today we've been to Paris. Quite simply. We saw the sights, heard the sounds and ate the croissants. As we wandered among the magnificent buildings, we started talking about the refugee camps. About how different it will be. About how this prolonged layover put us off our course. You see, we were ready for dirt, sand, and tents. Then we end up here! In Paris! And merely five hours flight from here lies the Laayounne camp, where people don't have paved roads or even clean drinking water.

Of course, it's not like we didn't enjoy the prepaid hotel and the good food, but the vast differences definitely gave us something to think about.

French engineering?

We woke up this morning believing we had taken our last shower in four moths, not knowing what the next 24 hours would entail. After having spent an hour at the airport in Norway, waiting for our delayed flight, we finally made it to Paris. However, the joy didn't last long when we realized we had missed our flight to Algeria. As Air Algeria only flies to Tindouf twice a week we are forced to spend two nights in Paris on the expense of AirFrance.

So here we are, at the hotel bar with our new friend Adam, trying to plan our day of sightseeing in Paris instead of doing what we came here for. Save the world. 

Saving the world is really hard to do when the French design airports as well, and efficient, as Napoleon invaded Russia! So instead of exploring the Sahara desert we decided to dress up like French people.

Even though Paris is not the worst place to be stranded, we are disappointed that we are no closer to the Algerian refugee camp. The new plan is to leave Monday morning. And hopefully we will meet our Algerian friends then.

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New adventure

A new adventure is about to start. Sunniva, Eivind and I are packed and ready for moving down to Laayoune refugee camp in Algeria where we will be staying for about 4 months. Excited? More than words can describe! We have heard so much about the camp, yet a bit confused and slightly worried about what these months actually will entail. Right now, we can only dream of what the place looks like. However, having tried to consider what a situation in the Sahara Desert looks like, we have packed sandals, head torches and gifts for our host families. Internet is not a priority in the camps, which we obviously understand, so we will try to update the blog whenever we are able to. For those of you who are particularly keen on following us, we have created a different communication channel, where will send text messages to the previous volunteers in Norway with short updates which they will add to our facebook page, SahaNor- http://www.facebook.com/SahaNor and a twitter account- @SahaNorUWC. So please, follow us on Facebook and/or Twitter as well! So far so good! Algeria next!