January 17

Naka nga def! (Hi)
So I just spent my first weekend with my host family...given the awkwardness I've been experiencing on a regular basis, my original plan was to sleep as long as possible and hole up in my room studying to avoid any superfluous family time (by which I mean awkward we-keep-making-eye-conact-but-none-of-us-speak-the-same-language-time).  I decided to be adventurous, however, and set off alone for the first time to explore my neighborhood, since I was just positively itching to go for a run.  I jog for about 20 minutes and all is well until I find myself back in my village courtyard, literally 30 seconds away from my house, unsure of which side street is mine.  (Author's note: when I say "courtyard," I am using the term loosely.  What I'm referring to is really a circular clearing of dirt, occupied by 4 women gossiping in Wolof, with 12 or so identical dirt passageways feeding into it).  I'm standing there, dripping in sweat, while they stare at me.  I finally get up the courage to ask how to gtet to Ami Diop's house...guess what? Turs out that there are a dowen Ami Diops that live in my village (hencethe dozen identical adjoining dirt roads, I suppose).  We pull out my phone (because I am a genious for bringing it with me) and call Maman, and she comes to rescue me.  In the meantime, I start chatting with the women, who all tease me lercilessly (in Senegal, the art of taquiner, to tease is somewhat of a national tradition; humor and laughter are constants in a household).  Later in the day, after sufficiently recoverign from my trauma, I am out walking with my host sister and cousin, Tabara and Aminata, and we pass the same women.  The laugh and greet me in Wolof and when I respond with the correct salutation in the local tonue, they erupt in applause, chanting "Toubab! Toubab! Baax na!" (very good).
After that point, everythign with my family became infinitely easier; they officially welcomed me into the family by giving me a Senegalese name, Maimouna, after my host grandmother.  The girls took me to see the National Monument of the African Renaissance, and took me walking along the Corniche (the road that runs along the coast) discussing everything from pets, to music, to school, to travel. 
Tabara introduced me to the neighbors (some of which are closer to my age, which is nice) and gave me helpful tips on how to ward off the multitude of beggars. 
On Friday, I spent the day with the other students at Goree Island; while it was certainly a beautiful place, all of the history and continuing effects of colonialism (the entire economy is based on tourism) rendered it a bit depressing.  However, it was there that I recived my first 2 marriage proposals; only one was tempting, as the other was the offer to be a fourth wife.  After politely declining (but beign given his cell number nevertheless) another student, Hannah, and I befriended one of the merchants.  He took the ferry back to the mainland with us, and as a sign of goodwill (and proof that he wasn't just being nice in order to sell us something), he presented us each with a kering kering, a sort of African drum-like instrument, as a welcoming gift of teranga, hospitality. 
And my independent streqk continues; this mornign I took public trqnsit all by myself to get to class!  The buses are terrifying and nobody on them speaks anything but Wolof, but somehow I managed to get off at the correct place (not a "stop" per se; those don't exist.  When you want to leave, you bang on the ceiling and hopefully the driver hears you and stops) and make it to the school on time.
Today and tomorrow we are officially signing up for our classes; I will be taking 3 at WARC and 2 at Cheik Anta Diop.  I'll be sure to keep you posted on the gripping detaild of my course selection process.
I will try and write again before the end of this school week.
Ba beneen yoon!