Random quick updates:
Aminata has head lice. And I caught her trying to use one of my scarves as a head covering because she had to take her braids out. Don't worry, I recovered the stolen good before they were contaminated.
Mariama (my neighbor friend who has the same birthday as me one year earlier) braided my hair last night. Aminata had been harassing me about it for a while and I just sort of gave in. I feel very much like a 9 year old freshly back from a Caribbean cruise vacation, but it isn't awful...also, jogging with braids is AWESOME. You get a great breeze and no bangs flopping around in your face. But the entire time I was having it done last night, a stream of eligible men were coming in to give me appraising looks. And it's not like I could up and leave, or even turn my head away to ignore them-Mariama has a icelike grip. I feel like Aminata may have had something to do with this, she needs to set up like a Senegalese match.com or something-since she's been on Spring Break from school, she's had wayyyy too much time to make general mischief.
Mariama promised to teach me how to make mafe (rice and meat in a spicy peanut based sauce...my favorite Senegalese dish) this weekend. Hopefully we actually do it, I'm a little bit over being judged by the old ladies in the neighborhood when I tell them that the only dish I can make is spaghetti.
Amherst College has finally decided to join the 21st century and has made the switch to online course scheduling...which is great, because frankly I was starting to wonder how I would be able to get myself to the registrar's office with my little slip of paper indicating my fall class selections. True, this is not Senegalese news, but it was relevant to my life so I figured that since nobody really reads this anyways, I would indulge myself.
Oh and best for last; when I was walking home from school yesterday I got offered 300,000 CFC (about $600)...because a teenaged boy thought I was a prostitute. Not quite sure how he got to that conclusion considering I was wearing long pants and a scarf over my outfit, but hey, not bad when you're not even soliciting I guess. And then later some random girl offered me 200,000 CFA for my hair when she walked in and saw me getting my braids done, so at least I know that if I'm ever in a pinch, I could sell my hair before prostituting myself. Unless I needed more than 200,000 CFA, in which case I'll need to go ahead and do the latter.
Those were the more exciting events of the last few days...if anything else worthwhile happens I'll be sure to let you know. Mangiy dem.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Monday, March 28, 2011
March 28
Spring Break Post #2:
The sept place ride to Saly went much more smoothly; it took less than 2 hours and the car had functioning windows (and incidentally, the car was functioning too) so it was really just a breeze by comparison. We stayed at this adorable little hotel called Au Petit Jura, owned by this middle-aged Swiss man and patronized by wealthy middle aged French men...who bought us wine on a daily basis in the middle of the day so that we could drunkenly discuss world politics by the poolside. It was awesome. One of them was a professional traditional wrestler in Bretagne, and he kept trying to explain the rules and how it's different from Senegalese wrestling (let me give you a hint: everything is different) which was definitely mildly entertaining, especially after a few months of verrrry limited drinking and 2 glasses of wine in rapid succession without eating lunch.
Beyond that, most of the trip was spent sitting by the pool and tanning. I may as well be North African now. Aimee and I ventured one day to Mbour, a fishing port town, to see them bring the fish in on boats, and while we got to see a bit of it, we were getting harassed so much by the villagers that we abandoned our mission early to return to Europe-in-Senegal-land.
And naturally, being my mother's daughter, after a few days of lounging around, I started to get restless...so when another group of 3 girls from our program met up with us in Saly, we decided that we should leave a day earlier than originally planned so that we could try and catch the Senegal-Cameroon international qualifying soccer match in Dakar on Saturday night.
We had heard that national soccer games in Africa are a must see because of how crazy the fans get, but absolutely nothing could have prepared us for the experience. We make it to Stade Leopold Sedar Senghor about 2-3 hours before game time, and obviously it was already sold out; but, unfortunately for us, locating and interacting with scalpers in Wolof is much more difficult than we had anticipated. Shocker. Between trying to rip us off, and us drawing crowds of cops like it was our job (I wonder why? Oh yeah. We're the ONLY white people here), things reeealllly were starting to look bleak...and also we had no way of getting home. Then, just as we were about to lose hope, I make eye-contact with a group of 3 Senegalese men right in front of us, who ask us in French if we have bought tickets yet. I respond that we haven't, praying that maybe these are some nice scalpers that won't try to kidnp us/rip us off, but turns out they're even better; they're Senegalese people in search of scalpers too! So they invite us to join them, and off we go on a quest to illegally buy game tickets...which they find immediately, thanks to their superior cultural and linguistic skills. And we only ended up paying the equivalent of $14 for game tickets (which were initially prices at $10) so basically these guys were awesome. Oh and between us 3 girls, we only even paid for 2 tickets (they bought the third...and also gave us a free jersey, flag, and wrist bands so we could look more legitimate).
And the fun doesn't stop there. The game itself was "hache," or sloppy, as our new friends Alex and Alain said, but the ending was just about the most epic thing I've ever seen live. With just about a minute of stoppage time left, in the 92nd minute, Senegal breaks the scoreless tie with a gorgeous goal inside the 18 yard box-and I swear all of Dakar erupted as though Senegal had just won a war. Fans sprinted onto the field, grown men hugged and kissed, and children (and pickpockets) danced in the streets. I've never seen such excitement; and this just for a qualifying match! Like literally nothing happens now except that Senegal gets a few extra point towards qualifying for the 2012 African Cup of Nations. I'd be afraid to be here when a game that actually really matters happens. But it was so awesome to be there, and now we have some actual Senegalese friends that we met ourselves that weren't assigned to us by our host families.
After the game, I went back home to Ouakam...and it turns out my host uncle Isaakha had been there too. And also that my other host aunt had her baby of Friday! And also that Sunday was some major prophet's birthday so we got to celebrate and eat lax all day! So it was a bit of a whirlwind of a weekend, but it was wonderful seeing my family again...Tabara gave me a giant hug when I got back (I've never seen her display emotion so that was very exciting). Also, the new baby is enormous-like, it's already bigger than the 2 month old, and he's three days old. Yikes. Luckily, there weren't too many complications with the birth and his mother is doing just fine.
So that pretty much brings you up to speed with everything here through break...I'm sure I've accidentally left some things out, but I'll post them later if I remember them. Ba beneen yoon.
The sept place ride to Saly went much more smoothly; it took less than 2 hours and the car had functioning windows (and incidentally, the car was functioning too) so it was really just a breeze by comparison. We stayed at this adorable little hotel called Au Petit Jura, owned by this middle-aged Swiss man and patronized by wealthy middle aged French men...who bought us wine on a daily basis in the middle of the day so that we could drunkenly discuss world politics by the poolside. It was awesome. One of them was a professional traditional wrestler in Bretagne, and he kept trying to explain the rules and how it's different from Senegalese wrestling (let me give you a hint: everything is different) which was definitely mildly entertaining, especially after a few months of verrrry limited drinking and 2 glasses of wine in rapid succession without eating lunch.
Beyond that, most of the trip was spent sitting by the pool and tanning. I may as well be North African now. Aimee and I ventured one day to Mbour, a fishing port town, to see them bring the fish in on boats, and while we got to see a bit of it, we were getting harassed so much by the villagers that we abandoned our mission early to return to Europe-in-Senegal-land.
And naturally, being my mother's daughter, after a few days of lounging around, I started to get restless...so when another group of 3 girls from our program met up with us in Saly, we decided that we should leave a day earlier than originally planned so that we could try and catch the Senegal-Cameroon international qualifying soccer match in Dakar on Saturday night.
We had heard that national soccer games in Africa are a must see because of how crazy the fans get, but absolutely nothing could have prepared us for the experience. We make it to Stade Leopold Sedar Senghor about 2-3 hours before game time, and obviously it was already sold out; but, unfortunately for us, locating and interacting with scalpers in Wolof is much more difficult than we had anticipated. Shocker. Between trying to rip us off, and us drawing crowds of cops like it was our job (I wonder why? Oh yeah. We're the ONLY white people here), things reeealllly were starting to look bleak...and also we had no way of getting home. Then, just as we were about to lose hope, I make eye-contact with a group of 3 Senegalese men right in front of us, who ask us in French if we have bought tickets yet. I respond that we haven't, praying that maybe these are some nice scalpers that won't try to kidnp us/rip us off, but turns out they're even better; they're Senegalese people in search of scalpers too! So they invite us to join them, and off we go on a quest to illegally buy game tickets...which they find immediately, thanks to their superior cultural and linguistic skills. And we only ended up paying the equivalent of $14 for game tickets (which were initially prices at $10) so basically these guys were awesome. Oh and between us 3 girls, we only even paid for 2 tickets (they bought the third...and also gave us a free jersey, flag, and wrist bands so we could look more legitimate).
And the fun doesn't stop there. The game itself was "hache," or sloppy, as our new friends Alex and Alain said, but the ending was just about the most epic thing I've ever seen live. With just about a minute of stoppage time left, in the 92nd minute, Senegal breaks the scoreless tie with a gorgeous goal inside the 18 yard box-and I swear all of Dakar erupted as though Senegal had just won a war. Fans sprinted onto the field, grown men hugged and kissed, and children (and pickpockets) danced in the streets. I've never seen such excitement; and this just for a qualifying match! Like literally nothing happens now except that Senegal gets a few extra point towards qualifying for the 2012 African Cup of Nations. I'd be afraid to be here when a game that actually really matters happens. But it was so awesome to be there, and now we have some actual Senegalese friends that we met ourselves that weren't assigned to us by our host families.
After the game, I went back home to Ouakam...and it turns out my host uncle Isaakha had been there too. And also that my other host aunt had her baby of Friday! And also that Sunday was some major prophet's birthday so we got to celebrate and eat lax all day! So it was a bit of a whirlwind of a weekend, but it was wonderful seeing my family again...Tabara gave me a giant hug when I got back (I've never seen her display emotion so that was very exciting). Also, the new baby is enormous-like, it's already bigger than the 2 month old, and he's three days old. Yikes. Luckily, there weren't too many complications with the birth and his mother is doing just fine.
So that pretty much brings you up to speed with everything here through break...I'm sure I've accidentally left some things out, but I'll post them later if I remember them. Ba beneen yoon.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
March 23
Ok so we are corrently on a break between parts one and two of vacation, so I figured I'd give a brief update on the first half while I had some time/before I forgot.
Day 1: woke up at 5:30 AM to work out before catching a 7 AM sept-place taxi to St. Louis...and encountered the world's largest rat while doing so. Any of you ever seent eh movie The Princess Bride? You know teh ROUS (Rodents of Unusual Size)? That's what I saw.
After a bit of panic, ended up meetign with Aimee and Jenn, my 2 travel companions, and we go to the Gare Routiere, teh "station" to catch our taxi. Now I put the word station in quotation marks because it literally looked like a junkyard more than anythign else; run-down, beaten-up station wagons were just strewn about haphazardly, with no discernable order system. Sketchy guys walk up to yuo, ask you where you're goign, and then point you to the (hopefully) correct car and driver. And then you wait in the car until it's full (7 passangers and a driver) and then you go. Simple enough.
UNLESS, of course, after 10 minutes into your drive, your driver realizes that two of the nuts on your left rear wheel are missing...in which case, you pull over, he spends an hour fruitlessly trying to jam various pieces of metal into the wheel to fix it, and then afterwards you bump back to the gare routiere going roughly 10 km/hr to start the whole process over again.
Take two!
Fortunately, this was a huge upgrade, because after they unloaded and reloaded us into a new car, it turned out this one had head rests for the 4 hour drive. So things work out.
Anyways, after arriving in St. Louis, we took a cab to our youth hostel...but, rather than pick us up and drop us off at our destination, our particular cab did 3 or 4 stops, picking up and dropping off the driver's buddies that he encountered on the road as he pleased. Weird, but super friendly I suppose.
We get to our youth hostel, which is super nice and clean (and about 10 USD a night) and we literally never even gave our names or any sort of identification to check in...we just walked in, were handed a key, and told to have a pleasant stay. Because that is the equivalent of a Senegalese security system. And it's a pretty uneventful day until we meet our new hostel friend: her name is Karina, and she's an Ivoirian who currently lives in Canada and just graduated from Boston University, spending 8 months in West Africa on a fellowship doing microfinancing research. She's great because 1) she's super friendly and awesome, and 2) she's African and proceeded to get us African prices on everything for the next 2 days. Score for us!
Day 2: We wake up early and meet a Mauritanian shop owner who invites us to Ataaya...more on that later. We go to the Guembeul wildlife reserve, where we see monkeys, gazelles, tortoises, and an umber of other African animals (so now we feel legitimized in coming here). Then we realize that there is no transportation to get home so...we stand on the side of the road waiting for a taxi to pass us.
Mom and Dad you might want to skip this next part.
And then we accidentally hitchhiked!
A man in a regular car pullqs up...we assumed he was a clando taxi. We greet him and ask how much to go to St. Louis and he says "C'est gratuit! Montez!" ("It's free! Get in!") So we all climb aboard and after about 5 minutes of drivign and chatting (his son is at Cheikh Anta Diop University as well, blah blah blah) I have the sudden epiphany that...we are currently hitchhiking. But the thing is, it really didn't feel like it-people just have a different idea of hospitality (and safety, I suppose) here...which was further proved when, halfway through our ride, we pull over to pick up an old lady walking in the heat with a cane as well. It was one of those moments where I felt liek I never want to go back to American social interactions.
Anyways, we make it back to St. Louis safely just in time for Ataaya with our new Mauritanian friend...during which we watch Al Jazeera and discuss the North African political situation with the vendor and his young son. It was surreal to say the least.
The rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully...until dinnertime, because as we were walking home, we realize we are being followed by a fou (crazy person), who drops his pants and picks up his pace to catch up to us. So Karina whips out her pepper spray and we sprint home, luckily not having to use it, locking ourselves safely in our hostel.
Day 3:Nothing too exciting, excpet that we received another attaya invitation, this time from a Senegalese man in the town. We accept, and turns out he serves ataaya to just about every person in the community: there's a crowd of about 10 of us seated on the sidewalk outside of his store front, and the women are all trying to teach us Wolof and chat with us-it was really nice. Until a drunk/fou comes up and starts babbling/proposing marriage to me, ignoring my pelase of "Bayyil lii nga def" (stop what you're doing), at which point Fatou, the eldest, most authoritative looking woman of the group gets up and dumps a cup of hot tea of the man and chases him away. And then she made us start a dance circle, and decided to rename us all...based on thze size of our hips. Awkward and reaaaally uncomfortable for us toubabs, but apparently that's a normal thing to do here. So Jenn is now Fonde, I am now Lax, and Amy, being the skinny one, is laalo. In case any of you are plannign on travelling to senegal: don't unless you are fine discussing very personal things, such as diarrhea and your weight, with complete strangers.
Anyways, byt the end of our 2 hour ataaya session, Lamine, one of the men, invited us to see his welding studio the next morning. Which we obviously decided to do, because, what the hell, we'd already been hitchhiking,why not just do every dangerous thing offered to us?
Day 4: We stop at Lamine's workshop and he teaches us how to weld. It's called soudure in French...and it's really an art form. They have such limited, run-down equipment, and yet are able to make absolutely stuinning pieces...us girls? Less so able. It was terrifying. And hot. But we did it, and it was a fun way to close out the St. Louis portion of our trip.
Alright so I'm off...we leave for Saly in a bit, which will be a much less exciting, more lounging on the beach type of vacation. I just wanted to check in and let you all know that I am sill alive...and I will be in touch when I am back again in Dakar. Ba beneen yoon.
Day 1: woke up at 5:30 AM to work out before catching a 7 AM sept-place taxi to St. Louis...and encountered the world's largest rat while doing so. Any of you ever seent eh movie The Princess Bride? You know teh ROUS (Rodents of Unusual Size)? That's what I saw.
After a bit of panic, ended up meetign with Aimee and Jenn, my 2 travel companions, and we go to the Gare Routiere, teh "station" to catch our taxi. Now I put the word station in quotation marks because it literally looked like a junkyard more than anythign else; run-down, beaten-up station wagons were just strewn about haphazardly, with no discernable order system. Sketchy guys walk up to yuo, ask you where you're goign, and then point you to the (hopefully) correct car and driver. And then you wait in the car until it's full (7 passangers and a driver) and then you go. Simple enough.
UNLESS, of course, after 10 minutes into your drive, your driver realizes that two of the nuts on your left rear wheel are missing...in which case, you pull over, he spends an hour fruitlessly trying to jam various pieces of metal into the wheel to fix it, and then afterwards you bump back to the gare routiere going roughly 10 km/hr to start the whole process over again.
Take two!
Fortunately, this was a huge upgrade, because after they unloaded and reloaded us into a new car, it turned out this one had head rests for the 4 hour drive. So things work out.
Anyways, after arriving in St. Louis, we took a cab to our youth hostel...but, rather than pick us up and drop us off at our destination, our particular cab did 3 or 4 stops, picking up and dropping off the driver's buddies that he encountered on the road as he pleased. Weird, but super friendly I suppose.
We get to our youth hostel, which is super nice and clean (and about 10 USD a night) and we literally never even gave our names or any sort of identification to check in...we just walked in, were handed a key, and told to have a pleasant stay. Because that is the equivalent of a Senegalese security system. And it's a pretty uneventful day until we meet our new hostel friend: her name is Karina, and she's an Ivoirian who currently lives in Canada and just graduated from Boston University, spending 8 months in West Africa on a fellowship doing microfinancing research. She's great because 1) she's super friendly and awesome, and 2) she's African and proceeded to get us African prices on everything for the next 2 days. Score for us!
Day 2: We wake up early and meet a Mauritanian shop owner who invites us to Ataaya...more on that later. We go to the Guembeul wildlife reserve, where we see monkeys, gazelles, tortoises, and an umber of other African animals (so now we feel legitimized in coming here). Then we realize that there is no transportation to get home so...we stand on the side of the road waiting for a taxi to pass us.
Mom and Dad you might want to skip this next part.
And then we accidentally hitchhiked!
A man in a regular car pullqs up...we assumed he was a clando taxi. We greet him and ask how much to go to St. Louis and he says "C'est gratuit! Montez!" ("It's free! Get in!") So we all climb aboard and after about 5 minutes of drivign and chatting (his son is at Cheikh Anta Diop University as well, blah blah blah) I have the sudden epiphany that...we are currently hitchhiking. But the thing is, it really didn't feel like it-people just have a different idea of hospitality (and safety, I suppose) here...which was further proved when, halfway through our ride, we pull over to pick up an old lady walking in the heat with a cane as well. It was one of those moments where I felt liek I never want to go back to American social interactions.
Anyways, we make it back to St. Louis safely just in time for Ataaya with our new Mauritanian friend...during which we watch Al Jazeera and discuss the North African political situation with the vendor and his young son. It was surreal to say the least.
The rest of the day passed pretty uneventfully...until dinnertime, because as we were walking home, we realize we are being followed by a fou (crazy person), who drops his pants and picks up his pace to catch up to us. So Karina whips out her pepper spray and we sprint home, luckily not having to use it, locking ourselves safely in our hostel.
Day 3:Nothing too exciting, excpet that we received another attaya invitation, this time from a Senegalese man in the town. We accept, and turns out he serves ataaya to just about every person in the community: there's a crowd of about 10 of us seated on the sidewalk outside of his store front, and the women are all trying to teach us Wolof and chat with us-it was really nice. Until a drunk/fou comes up and starts babbling/proposing marriage to me, ignoring my pelase of "Bayyil lii nga def" (stop what you're doing), at which point Fatou, the eldest, most authoritative looking woman of the group gets up and dumps a cup of hot tea of the man and chases him away. And then she made us start a dance circle, and decided to rename us all...based on thze size of our hips. Awkward and reaaaally uncomfortable for us toubabs, but apparently that's a normal thing to do here. So Jenn is now Fonde, I am now Lax, and Amy, being the skinny one, is laalo. In case any of you are plannign on travelling to senegal: don't unless you are fine discussing very personal things, such as diarrhea and your weight, with complete strangers.
Anyways, byt the end of our 2 hour ataaya session, Lamine, one of the men, invited us to see his welding studio the next morning. Which we obviously decided to do, because, what the hell, we'd already been hitchhiking,why not just do every dangerous thing offered to us?
Day 4: We stop at Lamine's workshop and he teaches us how to weld. It's called soudure in French...and it's really an art form. They have such limited, run-down equipment, and yet are able to make absolutely stuinning pieces...us girls? Less so able. It was terrifying. And hot. But we did it, and it was a fun way to close out the St. Louis portion of our trip.
Alright so I'm off...we leave for Saly in a bit, which will be a much less exciting, more lounging on the beach type of vacation. I just wanted to check in and let you all know that I am sill alive...and I will be in touch when I am back again in Dakar. Ba beneen yoon.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
March 17
Hello all-
Finished my exams for the week and just have to sit through 2 more classes tomorrow and then spring break woo! Very excited to take a sept-pace taxi (basically a regular taxi that they cram 7 random people into who are all going to roughly the same place) for 5-7 hours to St. Louis with 2 friends from my program...at the very least, I'm sure we'll have some interesting stories about the randos who end up all cozy with us in the car.
So this week, we had our usual adventure Wednesday (nobody on our program has class after 11am on Wednesdays, so a small group of us has decided to make Wednesdays our day to cross off the sights to see in the Lonely Planet)...this week's edition: Les Almadies. La Point des Almadies is the Western-most point in Africa-it's really beautiful, obviously has a market, and obviously, being a seaside, touristy spot, has delicious food. We went to a place called Sweet Coffee (which sells, *gasp*, REAL COFFEE, not cafe touba!), so naturally we all indulged. And afterwards, we went on what seemed like a wild goose chase searching for this artist's atelier, and after about 2 hours of circling around Les Almadies and N'Gor (another quartier), we found it...in the first place we tried (and missed it). Anyways, it's this place called Ceramiques des Almadies, owned by this French expat who's lived in Senegal forever...and he doesn't seem to get a ton of business, so he literally gave us a tour of his entire studio, from his firing kiln, to his own artwork, to works of art from other famous Senegalese artists. I'm finding that it's these random little out-of-the-way spots that seem to be the best here (mostly because you're not being harassed by a zillion Senegalese men asking for your number/money).
Let's see...well, I've been teaching lessons regularly at my school, and it's been going great (I've been making lesson plans and teaching at least one bloc of classes for both English and Geography courses now every day)...except for the part where one of the teachers made me call roll. Which was embarassing and probably really culturally offensive because I am absolutely positive that I did not pronounce a single name correctly (and often said masculine/feminine forms where inappropriate). Oops. Oh well, I'll count it as a part of my cultural education. It's just that I have since realized that there is nothing more horrifying than getting laughed at my a classroom of 70 plus 12 year olds. If I plan on a career in education I should probably get over that at some point in the near future.
Other than that, it's been a pretty standard week...I'm sure I will have lots more to blog about after my spring break trip. Until then, take care, and I'll be back on the 27th, Inshallah. Ba beneen yoon.
Finished my exams for the week and just have to sit through 2 more classes tomorrow and then spring break woo! Very excited to take a sept-pace taxi (basically a regular taxi that they cram 7 random people into who are all going to roughly the same place) for 5-7 hours to St. Louis with 2 friends from my program...at the very least, I'm sure we'll have some interesting stories about the randos who end up all cozy with us in the car.
So this week, we had our usual adventure Wednesday (nobody on our program has class after 11am on Wednesdays, so a small group of us has decided to make Wednesdays our day to cross off the sights to see in the Lonely Planet)...this week's edition: Les Almadies. La Point des Almadies is the Western-most point in Africa-it's really beautiful, obviously has a market, and obviously, being a seaside, touristy spot, has delicious food. We went to a place called Sweet Coffee (which sells, *gasp*, REAL COFFEE, not cafe touba!), so naturally we all indulged. And afterwards, we went on what seemed like a wild goose chase searching for this artist's atelier, and after about 2 hours of circling around Les Almadies and N'Gor (another quartier), we found it...in the first place we tried (and missed it). Anyways, it's this place called Ceramiques des Almadies, owned by this French expat who's lived in Senegal forever...and he doesn't seem to get a ton of business, so he literally gave us a tour of his entire studio, from his firing kiln, to his own artwork, to works of art from other famous Senegalese artists. I'm finding that it's these random little out-of-the-way spots that seem to be the best here (mostly because you're not being harassed by a zillion Senegalese men asking for your number/money).
Let's see...well, I've been teaching lessons regularly at my school, and it's been going great (I've been making lesson plans and teaching at least one bloc of classes for both English and Geography courses now every day)...except for the part where one of the teachers made me call roll. Which was embarassing and probably really culturally offensive because I am absolutely positive that I did not pronounce a single name correctly (and often said masculine/feminine forms where inappropriate). Oops. Oh well, I'll count it as a part of my cultural education. It's just that I have since realized that there is nothing more horrifying than getting laughed at my a classroom of 70 plus 12 year olds. If I plan on a career in education I should probably get over that at some point in the near future.
Other than that, it's been a pretty standard week...I'm sure I will have lots more to blog about after my spring break trip. Until then, take care, and I'll be back on the 27th, Inshallah. Ba beneen yoon.
Monday, March 14, 2011
March 14
Today is the official half-way point, which is crazy. And 35 new foreign students (none of whom speak any French or Wolof, incidentally) just arrived at WARC and now I feel like I've been here forever. It's weird.
Nothing too life-changing this weekend...did laundry for like 50 hours this weekend with the girls and then had a nail-painting/candy-eating party afterwards (a very special thanks to all of you readers who contributed to that activity). BUT more importantly Spring Break starts on Friday afternoon, so that should be fun.
OH and this morning I had one special Senegalese experience happen on the way to school. I was riding the death machine/kaar rapide per usual, and then suddenly, we turned off our normal route on Rue Cheikh Anta Diop and I started panicking, thinking I had gotten on the wrong one...or had chosen a rogue driver who was off to kidnap us. Either way, not good. However, afetr about 20 seconds I realize we're headed for a gas station. Apparently, the kaar was just running low and needed to fuel up...while 50-plus passengers sat inside, waiting.
Oh, Senegal, efficiency just really isn't your thing.
Oh and then today at the secondary school where I work, I broke up a cat fight between two girls in 5ieme! One pulled out the other one's fake hair and all hell broke loose. Luckily, being a freakish looking white person though, I hold the particular power of being able to immediiately command the attention of everyone in a room so they stopped and listened to me when I yelled at them in Wolof. Score one for the toubabs!
Class was cancelled today (again) because of the strike, but apparently on Friday they're going to start hosting University classes here at WARC so that us foreigners get our moneys' worth. And also so that we don't have to find our way through the armed guards and clouds of tear gas to get to class there. Things are lookign up!
Anyways, I'm off, but I hope you all had a great weekend, and I'll write again soon, Inshallah.
Nothing too life-changing this weekend...did laundry for like 50 hours this weekend with the girls and then had a nail-painting/candy-eating party afterwards (a very special thanks to all of you readers who contributed to that activity). BUT more importantly Spring Break starts on Friday afternoon, so that should be fun.
OH and this morning I had one special Senegalese experience happen on the way to school. I was riding the death machine/kaar rapide per usual, and then suddenly, we turned off our normal route on Rue Cheikh Anta Diop and I started panicking, thinking I had gotten on the wrong one...or had chosen a rogue driver who was off to kidnap us. Either way, not good. However, afetr about 20 seconds I realize we're headed for a gas station. Apparently, the kaar was just running low and needed to fuel up...while 50-plus passengers sat inside, waiting.
Oh, Senegal, efficiency just really isn't your thing.
Oh and then today at the secondary school where I work, I broke up a cat fight between two girls in 5ieme! One pulled out the other one's fake hair and all hell broke loose. Luckily, being a freakish looking white person though, I hold the particular power of being able to immediiately command the attention of everyone in a room so they stopped and listened to me when I yelled at them in Wolof. Score one for the toubabs!
Class was cancelled today (again) because of the strike, but apparently on Friday they're going to start hosting University classes here at WARC so that us foreigners get our moneys' worth. And also so that we don't have to find our way through the armed guards and clouds of tear gas to get to class there. Things are lookign up!
Anyways, I'm off, but I hope you all had a great weekend, and I'll write again soon, Inshallah.
Friday, March 11, 2011
March 11
OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS my house just got another bathroom. Apparently, it's been there all along but was just a hole in the floor of a random room in the back of my house but now there's a toilet and a working shower head in there too so now I don't have to go through my grandmother/Tabara's room every time I need to go! Yay!
Also, Professor Sene just got back from America and brought us like 50 jars of peanut butter so I just had the best brunch ever. Senegalese peanut butter (pate d'arichide) is made without any sort of sugar or deliciousness so it's just reallllly not the same.
And finally, today is our official 2 month anniversary...and Monday is our halfway point! Time has been flying...nothing too epic, but we're all definitely in a routine now (except for our University classes, which are now suspended indefinitely because now, not only are the professors on strike, but the students are too! And they got teargassed by the police yesterday because they had pellet guns and rocks and stuff and were getting violent. So...yeah). And next week we have exams and then Spring Break (I'll be off to St. Louis and Saly) so there will hopefully be better stories for you guys from my adventuring there...ba ci kanam.
Also, Professor Sene just got back from America and brought us like 50 jars of peanut butter so I just had the best brunch ever. Senegalese peanut butter (pate d'arichide) is made without any sort of sugar or deliciousness so it's just reallllly not the same.
And finally, today is our official 2 month anniversary...and Monday is our halfway point! Time has been flying...nothing too epic, but we're all definitely in a routine now (except for our University classes, which are now suspended indefinitely because now, not only are the professors on strike, but the students are too! And they got teargassed by the police yesterday because they had pellet guns and rocks and stuff and were getting violent. So...yeah). And next week we have exams and then Spring Break (I'll be off to St. Louis and Saly) so there will hopefully be better stories for you guys from my adventuring there...ba ci kanam.
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
March 9
Ok, so I really don't have anything too exciting and Africa-y to report, mostly because my parents have been visiting for the past several days and I have been avoiding everything from my regular daily life like it's my job.
However, I did take them to our first Senegalese professional soccer game...which was actually just what you would expect from a Senegalese sporting event. Tickets were cheap (like a dollar to get in), women were scarce, and the line consisting of 10 people to get in took roughly a half hour to get through. And the second you bought your ticket, they ripped it into shreds and tossed it on the ground. Because waste and pollution are not problems here.
The game itself was about at the level of a mediocre high school boys' soccer team...it's ambiguous how much they train together, or what exactly their coaches' roles are. And because as youth players, they just play small-sided games in dirt and sand, the goalkeeping is actually comical to watch. Like sometimes they can't even kick the ball out of the 18 yard box on goal kicks. But I will say that given the situation of the country, it's actually quite remarkable that they even have a league at all....and the fans are great, and they also sold peanuts for less than 5 cents per bag, so you really can't complain about the ambiance.
Oh and also real family met host family last night...which was lovely and basically a mime-fest, considering that they speak zero overlapping languages. But now the curiosity on both ends has been satisfied and my real family knows that I'm not living in squalor and being abused so yay.
Ummm that's about all I've got for you today...I'll post again soon.
However, I did take them to our first Senegalese professional soccer game...which was actually just what you would expect from a Senegalese sporting event. Tickets were cheap (like a dollar to get in), women were scarce, and the line consisting of 10 people to get in took roughly a half hour to get through. And the second you bought your ticket, they ripped it into shreds and tossed it on the ground. Because waste and pollution are not problems here.
The game itself was about at the level of a mediocre high school boys' soccer team...it's ambiguous how much they train together, or what exactly their coaches' roles are. And because as youth players, they just play small-sided games in dirt and sand, the goalkeeping is actually comical to watch. Like sometimes they can't even kick the ball out of the 18 yard box on goal kicks. But I will say that given the situation of the country, it's actually quite remarkable that they even have a league at all....and the fans are great, and they also sold peanuts for less than 5 cents per bag, so you really can't complain about the ambiance.
Oh and also real family met host family last night...which was lovely and basically a mime-fest, considering that they speak zero overlapping languages. But now the curiosity on both ends has been satisfied and my real family knows that I'm not living in squalor and being abused so yay.
Ummm that's about all I've got for you today...I'll post again soon.
Monday, March 7, 2011
March 7
Okkkk so I am back from Toubacouta and while it would be impossible to fill you in on all of the details/mishaps on the weekend, I can give you a brief overview and some highlights of the trip. So here we go.
So we stayed in a rural village practically right on the border of Gambia called Keur Moussa (yes, also the name of the monastery we visited, but they are unaffiliated), which is the village where Wally, one of our program directors, was born and raised. Each student was assigned to a new host family that spoke exclusively Wolof (yikes), where we were to be treated "as though we were the son or daughter of the family," meaning that we were asked to help out with daily tasks to really experience life in a rural village. Which basically meant that us womenfolk got to experience the following activities:
Catching a chicken to be slaughtered for dinner
Dismantling said chicken
Cooking said chicken
Peeling several kilos of onions and potatoes
Making beignets
Drawing water from the well and transporting the water in buckets on our heads...which, by the way, is soooo much harder than it looks
Pounding millet, using a human-sized mortar and pestle
Playing with the children and carrying them around strapped to our backs
And the men did this:
Lounged around in the shade
Played with the kids
That's all.
So basically I have decided that I really love America and am super happy that this was just for a weekend...especially since there is no electricity, running water, or any sort of bathroom facility there. Although I started to think I really did belong there when, at 1am, after a late-night dance circle with all of the village in attendance, as we were preparing for bed, my host mother non-chalantly strips off her boubou, and plops down naked, on our shared bed, and proceeds to devour an entire chicken. Because let's be honest, the number of times I've had an urge to do something similar in the United States late at night is a little bit embarrassing, seeing as it's entirely socially unacceptable there. Shoot. Looks like I'll have to forego that perk if I do return home then.
Beyond that, here were some highlight:
We saw our first real-live wild monkey, just strolling about as if it was no big deal. But obviously it ws.
We all got to ride motorcycles...without helmets or any sort of protective equipment, entirely off-roading it with no visible medical care in case of an accident. Just added to the thrill. And I'm pretty sure I want a moped now.
We took a pirogue through the mangrove forest on the river, which was absolutely stunning...for the first time, I felt like we really got to experience the African wilderness, rather than exhaust-polluted Dakar.
We watched a lutte tournament...which, yes, is Senegalese wrestling, but also dancing and chanting and drumming. It's more of a general spectacle, and also I need to add that Senegalese men fight dirty. Its like WWF, but real. Like Large men dressed in nothing but spanky pants and a colorful loincloth are throwing sand in each others' eyes and punching each other in the face, and throwing each other over their shoulders and into the crowd and stuff. It's a little terrifying. But mostly awesome.
We also took part in about 6 mandatory traditional dance circles...seeing as electricity isn't really a 'thing' in rural villages, theer are other more creative forms of entertainment, the foremost of which is music and dance (which is also a major form of communication and ceremonial life). Basically they just loved harassing the toubabs into being publicly ridiculed for our lack of rhythm and grace. But I suppose it's not that embarrassing, seeing as we will likely never see those villagers again, and I plan on destroying all photographic evidence that surfaces of these nights.
Let me see...I think I hit most of the major events of the weekend. It was really an eye-opening experience, but while I am so happy to have gone, I am even happier to return to Ouakam (with a quick, much needed stop at the Radisson Blu Hotel with Bruce and Sandy in between for my first hot shower in 2 months...Alhamdulilai). I'll keep you informed if anything else comes to mind.
Ba ci kanam
So we stayed in a rural village practically right on the border of Gambia called Keur Moussa (yes, also the name of the monastery we visited, but they are unaffiliated), which is the village where Wally, one of our program directors, was born and raised. Each student was assigned to a new host family that spoke exclusively Wolof (yikes), where we were to be treated "as though we were the son or daughter of the family," meaning that we were asked to help out with daily tasks to really experience life in a rural village. Which basically meant that us womenfolk got to experience the following activities:
Catching a chicken to be slaughtered for dinner
Dismantling said chicken
Cooking said chicken
Peeling several kilos of onions and potatoes
Making beignets
Drawing water from the well and transporting the water in buckets on our heads...which, by the way, is soooo much harder than it looks
Pounding millet, using a human-sized mortar and pestle
Playing with the children and carrying them around strapped to our backs
And the men did this:
Lounged around in the shade
Played with the kids
That's all.
So basically I have decided that I really love America and am super happy that this was just for a weekend...especially since there is no electricity, running water, or any sort of bathroom facility there. Although I started to think I really did belong there when, at 1am, after a late-night dance circle with all of the village in attendance, as we were preparing for bed, my host mother non-chalantly strips off her boubou, and plops down naked, on our shared bed, and proceeds to devour an entire chicken. Because let's be honest, the number of times I've had an urge to do something similar in the United States late at night is a little bit embarrassing, seeing as it's entirely socially unacceptable there. Shoot. Looks like I'll have to forego that perk if I do return home then.
Beyond that, here were some highlight:
We saw our first real-live wild monkey, just strolling about as if it was no big deal. But obviously it ws.
We all got to ride motorcycles...without helmets or any sort of protective equipment, entirely off-roading it with no visible medical care in case of an accident. Just added to the thrill. And I'm pretty sure I want a moped now.
We took a pirogue through the mangrove forest on the river, which was absolutely stunning...for the first time, I felt like we really got to experience the African wilderness, rather than exhaust-polluted Dakar.
We watched a lutte tournament...which, yes, is Senegalese wrestling, but also dancing and chanting and drumming. It's more of a general spectacle, and also I need to add that Senegalese men fight dirty. Its like WWF, but real. Like Large men dressed in nothing but spanky pants and a colorful loincloth are throwing sand in each others' eyes and punching each other in the face, and throwing each other over their shoulders and into the crowd and stuff. It's a little terrifying. But mostly awesome.
We also took part in about 6 mandatory traditional dance circles...seeing as electricity isn't really a 'thing' in rural villages, theer are other more creative forms of entertainment, the foremost of which is music and dance (which is also a major form of communication and ceremonial life). Basically they just loved harassing the toubabs into being publicly ridiculed for our lack of rhythm and grace. But I suppose it's not that embarrassing, seeing as we will likely never see those villagers again, and I plan on destroying all photographic evidence that surfaces of these nights.
Let me see...I think I hit most of the major events of the weekend. It was really an eye-opening experience, but while I am so happy to have gone, I am even happier to return to Ouakam (with a quick, much needed stop at the Radisson Blu Hotel with Bruce and Sandy in between for my first hot shower in 2 months...Alhamdulilai). I'll keep you informed if anything else comes to mind.
Ba ci kanam
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
March 2
Very little exciting news to post for the week...accidentally wandered into an art gallery (with really creepy paintings) with a friend on the program while looking for a glass art exhibit...so we didn't exactly find what we were looking for, but we got to feel superior to everyone for the rest of the day because we did something "cultural..." and then got ice cream.
Umm today a bunch of us are going to this international arts/artisans' fair in Liberte VI...it's an annual event, and it's supposed to be really cool, so I'm excited for a little exploring. And shopping. And avoiding getting mugged again.
Tomorrow morning we leave for Toubacouta, a small rural village near the Gambian border...we get one night in a hotel, and 2 nights with a new host family, and from what I've heard, this place is far more rustic than the conditions in which we've been living up til this point.
Yikes.
And then my mom and dad are coming to visit me! So I probably won't post for a while (since I'm pretty sure they comprise 2/3 of my readership anyways) but I will remember to relay any bizarre stories that happen in Toubacouta (and based on how my excursions have gone thus far, I'm sure there will be plenty). So, I hope everyone has a great weekend, and I will be in touch. Ba beneen yoon
Umm today a bunch of us are going to this international arts/artisans' fair in Liberte VI...it's an annual event, and it's supposed to be really cool, so I'm excited for a little exploring. And shopping. And avoiding getting mugged again.
Tomorrow morning we leave for Toubacouta, a small rural village near the Gambian border...we get one night in a hotel, and 2 nights with a new host family, and from what I've heard, this place is far more rustic than the conditions in which we've been living up til this point.
Yikes.
And then my mom and dad are coming to visit me! So I probably won't post for a while (since I'm pretty sure they comprise 2/3 of my readership anyways) but I will remember to relay any bizarre stories that happen in Toubacouta (and based on how my excursions have gone thus far, I'm sure there will be plenty). So, I hope everyone has a great weekend, and I will be in touch. Ba beneen yoon
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