Greetings from the WARC-
So we actually found our way to the Youssoou N'Dour concert without getting lost (too badly)...it was hosted by the Institut Francais, which is basically thios toubab safe haven in the middle of downtown Dakar. I legitimately felt like I have never seen so many white people crammed into one place at one time. Anyways, the show was great-especially sicne with N'Dour, as is typical of most African music, you get far more than you pay for. He had about 14 other dancers, singers, and musicians backing him up at all times, which really added some depth to the performance, not to mention a sensory overload for all people in attandance. Naturally, our group of students felt the need to dance afterwards, so we took the opportunity to explore the nightlife of Dakar. Sketchiest part of the evening: when we went to leave, we hailed a taxi and after settling on a price and driving no more than two blocks, our cab was stopped in the middle of the street by two rather unofficial looking men asking for our driver's license and registration. Rather than produce the necessary documents, our driver opens up a secret compartment behind the steerign wheel and procures a wad of cash, which he attempts to hand to the men. Naturally at this point, the four of us in the cab decide to make a run for it and head back to the club we had just left. Good thing we're so aware of our surroundings and able to handle those situations...
We eventually did make it home, and even got to practice Wolof with our cab driver, repeating the phrase "begg uma joxe sama numero" (I don't want to give you my phone number) for nearly the entire ride.
Saturday and Sunday were some crucial family bonding days for me-I have started doing the laundry (by hand) with my host sisters Aminata and Tabara, which takes them each about 6 hours to complete on each day. My arms and back are killing my, but I feel like this is the one way that I can actually contribute to the household and feel like less of a free-loading squatter.
And, the most important part of my weekend; I have officially graduated from "toubab" to "blonde!" After much bilingual confusion (apparently in Wolof, blonde does not refer to hair color, but rather an intermediate skin color between white and black), I am able to embrace my new title...I'm not sure if it's because I'm starting to tan or if they like me more now, but either way I'm happy to have moved beyond toubab status, no matter how subtly.
In further efforts to make me a "real senegalese women," my family has decided that my clothing is inadequate and that I need traditional clothing made. Aminata and I went to the market on Saturday (which was completely overwhelming, with cars, feral animals, and people all pushing against one another in an attempt to cross the same single thoroughfare) and picked out some fabric, and today we will be visiting a tailor to make a dress (fabric costs about 5-10 dollars, andtailoring should cost no more than 5, apparently). It's been really nice having host sisters to guide me with this sort of thing, because alone, I am completely lost.
Not too much else new for now...I'm off to class (with our Wolof teacher, who, according to his stories, was fired on several occasions from the Peace Corps as a teacher for smoking pot with the members) but I will write again soon. Ba ci kanam
Monday, January 31, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
January 27
Naka nga def!
I'll start where I left off earlier: we all successfully obtained Youssou N'Dour tickets for tomorrow night, so our huge gang of toubabs will be storming onto the Dakar concert scene a mere 2 1/2 weeks into our stay in Senegal...it'll be my first night "out" in Africa, so I'll see if all the fuss is justified.
Nothing else really compares in terms of fun/exciting events, so I'll regale you with a few random little snapshots of my last few days.
Yesterday, one of the other students that lives in Ouakam and I were walking home, when all of a sudden we notice drumbeats coming from somewhere in the distance. We follow the noise only to discover taht there is a djembe drum circle (impromptu, apparently) playing in our village quad, and all of the women and children of the neighborhood pulled around their lawn furniture to form a kind of a performance stage. Women in brightmy colored boubous and pagnes casually took turns in the middle of the circle doing traditional (and some more modren) dances (if you get a chance, check out Mbalax dancing on youtube-it's sweet and makes me feel super white and unrhythmic). Anyways, apparently this sort of thing doesn't happe often, but it was a fun thing to see at least once.
Also, today I was supposed to start taking a class at the university...turns out it doesn't exist! I showed up with a classmate to the assigned room (which we were soooo proud of ourselves for locating in the first place) and a different class was taking place there. The university is sort of a free-for-all; there is no discernable central office, nor any real sort of organization (of enrollment, scheduling, or anything else that one in the US would assume to be a critical element of an educational institution). But, as they say, This Is Africa, c'est la vie. Anyways, after trying to navigate a series of lines (that led to ambiguous ends) in order to determine if, when, and where our class was taking place, we abandoned ship and returned to WARC...our supervisor told us he would look into it, but if nothing concrete materializes, we have enrolled in another class (African Political Systems) to replace it at WARC. At least we're really starting to know our way around.
The best thing that probably happened in the last few days though was yesterday afternoon: a group of us played beach soccer, and obviously we kicked the ball into the ocean. One of our braver (or dumber?)teammates jumped in and rescued it, and to celebrate his survival, we went to lunch at the university, where I had my first experience with Senegalese street food. Footay 5spelling?) ids the best thing that I have ever had. It is this triangular piece of dough filled with meat, onions, hot sauce, and some other unknown elements. And it's glorious. And more importantly it costs 250 CFA, which is about 50 cents. I love the exchange rate here.
Well that's about it for now, but I promise to keep you updated on my daily experiences...off to class. A tout a l'heure
I'll start where I left off earlier: we all successfully obtained Youssou N'Dour tickets for tomorrow night, so our huge gang of toubabs will be storming onto the Dakar concert scene a mere 2 1/2 weeks into our stay in Senegal...it'll be my first night "out" in Africa, so I'll see if all the fuss is justified.
Nothing else really compares in terms of fun/exciting events, so I'll regale you with a few random little snapshots of my last few days.
Yesterday, one of the other students that lives in Ouakam and I were walking home, when all of a sudden we notice drumbeats coming from somewhere in the distance. We follow the noise only to discover taht there is a djembe drum circle (impromptu, apparently) playing in our village quad, and all of the women and children of the neighborhood pulled around their lawn furniture to form a kind of a performance stage. Women in brightmy colored boubous and pagnes casually took turns in the middle of the circle doing traditional (and some more modren) dances (if you get a chance, check out Mbalax dancing on youtube-it's sweet and makes me feel super white and unrhythmic). Anyways, apparently this sort of thing doesn't happe often, but it was a fun thing to see at least once.
Also, today I was supposed to start taking a class at the university...turns out it doesn't exist! I showed up with a classmate to the assigned room (which we were soooo proud of ourselves for locating in the first place) and a different class was taking place there. The university is sort of a free-for-all; there is no discernable central office, nor any real sort of organization (of enrollment, scheduling, or anything else that one in the US would assume to be a critical element of an educational institution). But, as they say, This Is Africa, c'est la vie. Anyways, after trying to navigate a series of lines (that led to ambiguous ends) in order to determine if, when, and where our class was taking place, we abandoned ship and returned to WARC...our supervisor told us he would look into it, but if nothing concrete materializes, we have enrolled in another class (African Political Systems) to replace it at WARC. At least we're really starting to know our way around.
The best thing that probably happened in the last few days though was yesterday afternoon: a group of us played beach soccer, and obviously we kicked the ball into the ocean. One of our braver (or dumber?)teammates jumped in and rescued it, and to celebrate his survival, we went to lunch at the university, where I had my first experience with Senegalese street food. Footay 5spelling?) ids the best thing that I have ever had. It is this triangular piece of dough filled with meat, onions, hot sauce, and some other unknown elements. And it's glorious. And more importantly it costs 250 CFA, which is about 50 cents. I love the exchange rate here.
Well that's about it for now, but I promise to keep you updated on my daily experiences...off to class. A tout a l'heure
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
January 25
So yesterday I learned an important lesson about the Senegalese education system: people don't really ever show up when and where they're supposed to. A few of the kids on my program and I showed up to our class at the University yesterday, and the building was locked! Apparently our professor was still at Touba (a religious pilgrimage sort of thing) and decided nott o tell anyone. Oh well.
Fortunately, we're a positive bunch, and we decided to go exploring instead! We went to downtown Dakar for the second time, did a little market shopping (this oen was far more successful-we're better at bargaining now because we know some key Wolof phrases, and also this market didn't have taxis trying to run you down as you stood inside of shops), and found the best ever ice cream place...ever. It's called N'Ice cream...we don't really get the name, but since it was so good, we figured we'd let it slide. We got followed around by a giant group of vendors until we told them that we, myself and another female student, were both married to the male student with us. We concocted an elaborate story about how we were from Salt Lake, Utah, and how we felt so much more at home in Senegal because polygamy isn't so stygmatized there. Then they left us alone.
We also found out about a Youssou N'Dour concert on Friday night...he's the pride of modern Senegalese music. I can't really think of a current American equivalent, maybe the closest thing would be like a Michael Jackson comparison. Anyways he's a really big deal. We're trying to buy tickets today (they're only about 20 USD) so I'll let you know how those attempts go...it would be really cool to see him live.
That's all for now, but I'll write again soon.
Fortunately, we're a positive bunch, and we decided to go exploring instead! We went to downtown Dakar for the second time, did a little market shopping (this oen was far more successful-we're better at bargaining now because we know some key Wolof phrases, and also this market didn't have taxis trying to run you down as you stood inside of shops), and found the best ever ice cream place...ever. It's called N'Ice cream...we don't really get the name, but since it was so good, we figured we'd let it slide. We got followed around by a giant group of vendors until we told them that we, myself and another female student, were both married to the male student with us. We concocted an elaborate story about how we were from Salt Lake, Utah, and how we felt so much more at home in Senegal because polygamy isn't so stygmatized there. Then they left us alone.
We also found out about a Youssou N'Dour concert on Friday night...he's the pride of modern Senegalese music. I can't really think of a current American equivalent, maybe the closest thing would be like a Michael Jackson comparison. Anyways he's a really big deal. We're trying to buy tickets today (they're only about 20 USD) so I'll let you know how those attempts go...it would be really cool to see him live.
That's all for now, but I'll write again soon.
Monday, January 24, 2011
January 24
So good news ands bad news: good news is that the kid in my program doesn't have malaria! bad news is this is how we learned that every toubab that goes to a hospital gets diagnosed with malaria regardless of what's really wrong bc they just assume we haven't been taking our pills. Nice.
Anyways, spent the weekend with a bunch of classmates, they came to visit me in Ouakam to go to the market and the beach. It was really nice and relaxing just to kind of roam around and get to know the area together. Saturday night, we had dinner with our program director (who has since returned to America) and after we did a little belated birthday celebration for me, which consustred of buying cheap wine and ice cream and consuming them both atr the beach and at My Shop, the toubab hangout. Next weekend; we mght explore the club scene, theres a salsa dance club/bar that's allegedly where everyone here goes so we might try that out...I'll keep you posted.
This morning when I was out jogging I met an American who's based in Senegal with the Peace Corps! Very random, but fun to speak English with someone. We passed each other and were both clearlt so excited to see another foreigner that we both stopped midstride to talk.
Other than that...not too much else new to report! I start classes at Cheikh Anta Diop today wich is great so hopefully all will go smoothly there. I don't have a ton of time to post this morning but I promise I will write again soon. Ba beneen yoon
Anyways, spent the weekend with a bunch of classmates, they came to visit me in Ouakam to go to the market and the beach. It was really nice and relaxing just to kind of roam around and get to know the area together. Saturday night, we had dinner with our program director (who has since returned to America) and after we did a little belated birthday celebration for me, which consustred of buying cheap wine and ice cream and consuming them both atr the beach and at My Shop, the toubab hangout. Next weekend; we mght explore the club scene, theres a salsa dance club/bar that's allegedly where everyone here goes so we might try that out...I'll keep you posted.
This morning when I was out jogging I met an American who's based in Senegal with the Peace Corps! Very random, but fun to speak English with someone. We passed each other and were both clearlt so excited to see another foreigner that we both stopped midstride to talk.
Other than that...not too much else new to report! I start classes at Cheikh Anta Diop today wich is great so hopefully all will go smoothly there. I don't have a ton of time to post this morning but I promise I will write again soon. Ba beneen yoon
Friday, January 21, 2011
January 21
Just because I want to cause trouble, I'll start my post today with this slightly startling fact: one of the kids on my program got diagnosed with malaria today! Word on the street is that he didn't start taking his pills before he left so they didn't take effect quickly enough; He is getting treatment though and should be just fine, and I have not missed a pill so no worries here Mom.
Speaking of malaria pills, I noticed I had been having some really, really bizarre lucid dreams (and nightmares) lately, and so I looked it up online and as it turns out, that's one of the side effects of the weekly malaria pills! My latest night terror featured me as Natalie Portman's character in Black Swan, but I knew I was an actress, and really wanted to win an Oscar for my role, which added a whole other level to the over-competitive motif. Plus, it was a lucid dream, because I kept thinking to myself, yeah I'm definitely not Natalie Portman as I was dancing around and sprouting feathers.
On a completely different note, Senegal is great! I walked into the downtown area of Dakar with a few friends (which is basically the same as everywhere else, with goats and dusty dirt roads, just with more people) and when we got slightly lost on the way back, we actually wandered into this great little market where we got custom Senegalese shirts made really cheaply. It was a fun little diversion for the day...excpet I'm kind of over getting harassed for being white by all the merchants. I need to tan more quicklyyyy
I have finally registered for all of my classes, and the Cheikh Anta Diop ones begin officiallt for us on Monday, so I'm excited to actually start taking classes with Senegalese students. It would be nice to have some friends that know the area well and can show me around.
And more exciting news; yesterday I figured out how they do laundry! Apparently Tabara, my 16 year old host cousin does the family laundry and I offered to help her, so now on every Saturday we'll do it together...which is excellent since I've just about run out of clean clothes to wear. However, you cannot put underwear into the laundry, apparently it's unsightly or something. You wash it yourself in the shower. It's kind of weird but efficient I guess so it's not really a problem. I feel like I do about 75% of my daily activities in the shower now (wash clothes, brush my teeth because there are no sinks, clean my shoes...oh yeah, and I shwer in there too). I've been getting much closer with my host family, especially Tabara and Aminata (we all have a shared love of Indian feuilltons, or soap operas, as well as Bollywood films and clothing) and I've been helping them to run errands for the household and helping them with their English homework, and they've been doign the same for me with Wolof.
One more important discovery: a place right near WARC called My Shop, a convenience store type place that sells ice cream (thank goodness) and other toubab-friendly foods. It's quickly becoming the hangout spot for the foreign students.
Well, that's about it for now...I likely won't have internet access until after the weekend, but I will write again when I can. A la prochain!
Speaking of malaria pills, I noticed I had been having some really, really bizarre lucid dreams (and nightmares) lately, and so I looked it up online and as it turns out, that's one of the side effects of the weekly malaria pills! My latest night terror featured me as Natalie Portman's character in Black Swan, but I knew I was an actress, and really wanted to win an Oscar for my role, which added a whole other level to the over-competitive motif. Plus, it was a lucid dream, because I kept thinking to myself, yeah I'm definitely not Natalie Portman as I was dancing around and sprouting feathers.
On a completely different note, Senegal is great! I walked into the downtown area of Dakar with a few friends (which is basically the same as everywhere else, with goats and dusty dirt roads, just with more people) and when we got slightly lost on the way back, we actually wandered into this great little market where we got custom Senegalese shirts made really cheaply. It was a fun little diversion for the day...excpet I'm kind of over getting harassed for being white by all the merchants. I need to tan more quicklyyyy
I have finally registered for all of my classes, and the Cheikh Anta Diop ones begin officiallt for us on Monday, so I'm excited to actually start taking classes with Senegalese students. It would be nice to have some friends that know the area well and can show me around.
And more exciting news; yesterday I figured out how they do laundry! Apparently Tabara, my 16 year old host cousin does the family laundry and I offered to help her, so now on every Saturday we'll do it together...which is excellent since I've just about run out of clean clothes to wear. However, you cannot put underwear into the laundry, apparently it's unsightly or something. You wash it yourself in the shower. It's kind of weird but efficient I guess so it's not really a problem. I feel like I do about 75% of my daily activities in the shower now (wash clothes, brush my teeth because there are no sinks, clean my shoes...oh yeah, and I shwer in there too). I've been getting much closer with my host family, especially Tabara and Aminata (we all have a shared love of Indian feuilltons, or soap operas, as well as Bollywood films and clothing) and I've been helping them to run errands for the household and helping them with their English homework, and they've been doign the same for me with Wolof.
One more important discovery: a place right near WARC called My Shop, a convenience store type place that sells ice cream (thank goodness) and other toubab-friendly foods. It's quickly becoming the hangout spot for the foreign students.
Well, that's about it for now...I likely won't have internet access until after the weekend, but I will write again when I can. A la prochain!
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
January 19
Helloooooo Mom and Dad and the approximately 3 other people that read this blog!
Not too much new to report here-we're starting to settle into a routine of classes (our WARC ones, at least) which is nice; I feel like I'm finally starting to have a little structure to my life. I have now had Wolof; Gender and Development, and African Literature, all of which have been great-I never have more than 8 students in ay of these classes. Hopefully, we'll have our other 2 classes (to be taken at Cheikh Anta Diop) by the weekend. I tested into the highest level of French proficiency which I guess is good, but I'm a litte nervous to be taking Anthropology classes taught in French with native French speakers...
So enough with the boring stuff. Unfortunately, there isn't too much new and exciting to report. I was hoping to put up my pictures from orientation today, but alas, Ani Cole (the cutest 3 year old girl ever that is one of my host sisters) found her way into my room yesterday, picked up my camera and deleted everything that had ever been on it. Ever. So I will be starting from scratch. I can't even be mad at her though, she's sooooo adorableeee. Well actually I am kind of upset. But I'll get over it. Anyways the photos up until this point were mostly the generic sight-seeing things that you can find on a postcard, but still. Needless to say my room is now locked, even when I juust step our to g to the bathroom where I can't wipe myself or wash my hands.
Oh! Had my first experince watching la lutte yesterday (Senegalese wrestling). So everyone here is obsessed with wrestling, and as far as I can tell, it's very similar to American wrestling (I mean real wrestling, like boys in spandex unitards, not that WWF fake crap), except that
A) they wear MUCH less clothing (if you can imagine that),
B) the men are about the size of WWF wrestlers, and
C) they engage in these bizarre "show of strength" displays before each match, but instead of like yelling and breaking things, they do a choreographed dance with their posse to intimidate their opponents.
And literally every TV in Senegal is turned to these fights when they are on. It was pretty standard wrestlign if you ask me, but what do I know I guess.
Not too much else to share for now, and I have class in about 15 minutes, but I will write again soon.
Ba beneen yoon
Not too much new to report here-we're starting to settle into a routine of classes (our WARC ones, at least) which is nice; I feel like I'm finally starting to have a little structure to my life. I have now had Wolof; Gender and Development, and African Literature, all of which have been great-I never have more than 8 students in ay of these classes. Hopefully, we'll have our other 2 classes (to be taken at Cheikh Anta Diop) by the weekend. I tested into the highest level of French proficiency which I guess is good, but I'm a litte nervous to be taking Anthropology classes taught in French with native French speakers...
So enough with the boring stuff. Unfortunately, there isn't too much new and exciting to report. I was hoping to put up my pictures from orientation today, but alas, Ani Cole (the cutest 3 year old girl ever that is one of my host sisters) found her way into my room yesterday, picked up my camera and deleted everything that had ever been on it. Ever. So I will be starting from scratch. I can't even be mad at her though, she's sooooo adorableeee. Well actually I am kind of upset. But I'll get over it. Anyways the photos up until this point were mostly the generic sight-seeing things that you can find on a postcard, but still. Needless to say my room is now locked, even when I juust step our to g to the bathroom where I can't wipe myself or wash my hands.
Oh! Had my first experince watching la lutte yesterday (Senegalese wrestling). So everyone here is obsessed with wrestling, and as far as I can tell, it's very similar to American wrestling (I mean real wrestling, like boys in spandex unitards, not that WWF fake crap), except that
A) they wear MUCH less clothing (if you can imagine that),
B) the men are about the size of WWF wrestlers, and
C) they engage in these bizarre "show of strength" displays before each match, but instead of like yelling and breaking things, they do a choreographed dance with their posse to intimidate their opponents.
And literally every TV in Senegal is turned to these fights when they are on. It was pretty standard wrestlign if you ask me, but what do I know I guess.
Not too much else to share for now, and I have class in about 15 minutes, but I will write again soon.
Ba beneen yoon
Monday, January 17, 2011
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!
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!
Friday, January 14, 2011
January 13-14
My immersion has officially begun in earnest-I’ve moved in with my host family. The Diops consist of my host mother (Ami, though I am to call her Maman because, as she said, I am to be her daughter for the next 4 months), and all of the family members that I mentioned earlier. The soccer ball brought as a gift was a great move, as it turns out the kids, especially my younger brother, Mohammed, all love to play and I can see that it will be a way for me to reach out to tem, despite our limited French and my complete ignorance of Wolof.
Within the first few hours of my arrival, there was a power outage (“bienvenue a Senegal,” as one of my aunts said) but unlike in the United States, where a blackout seems to stop all functioning of society, here things just carried on with the help of a few flashlights. I was shocked upon my arrival to discover that, despite sharing a home with 15 other individuals, I was given my own room. “Fais comme tu fais a la maison,” Maman told me. Make yourself at home, do everything that you would at your house. Maman’s broter, Isaacha, who works for the Senegalese department of education as an overseer of high schools, has really taken the initiative in terms of introducing me to the various family members and explaining things to me. However, this is a relative responsibility; while every member of the family has been very kind and friendly, I can tell that they expect me to simply know a lot of things that I don’t. For example, toilet paper is not used here-an alternative cleansing method exists instead. Meal times seem very consistent, but someone has yet to tell me when those consistet times happen to be. It’s difficult to contribute to the household conversations, as most occur in Wolof, but those that do occur in French are often to quick for em to understand. They are certainly making an effort to include me and to slow down for my benefit, but I can tell that a lot of my learning is going to come from observation and my own adjustments, rather than theirs, which is actually probably more beneficial for me in the long run.
The youngest children, who do not yet speak any French, refer to me as “toubab;” a somewhat derogatory slang for a white person (think the Wolof equivalent of the word “gringo”). I don’t mind, since my name is certainly difficult for them to pronounce, and hopefully as I learn a bit of Wolof we will be able to communicate more. Mostly, they are just curious about me. With the older girls, I am hoping that I can form a more legitimate relationship so that they can help me to adjust to the youth culture of Senegal.
Before our family placements, we also went on a tour of the city, visiting old military bases, monuments, and the President’s place of residence. It turns out that we had been staying in a rather poorer part of town, Yoff, where displaced Senegalese were forced to make their homes with the presence of the colonial French. I am currently staying in Ouakam, a much nicer suburb, and the house in which I am staying really is very comfortable and nice.
One major adjustment that I am finding myself forced to make is the difference in time; schedules don’t really exist, and if they do, they are more often than not disregarded. Nobody, neither program leaders nor my host family, really informs us of any plan of action, but somehow, everything that we need to accomplish seems to get done. I’m attempting to curb the neuroticism, or at least limit it to my classes and keep it out of my daily life.
Today we took our placement exams at WARC and we will be having our first Wolof class in the afternoon. I can access the internet pretty regularly here so hopefully it will be easier to stay in touch now.
I`ll write again soon. Bisous
Within the first few hours of my arrival, there was a power outage (“bienvenue a Senegal,” as one of my aunts said) but unlike in the United States, where a blackout seems to stop all functioning of society, here things just carried on with the help of a few flashlights. I was shocked upon my arrival to discover that, despite sharing a home with 15 other individuals, I was given my own room. “Fais comme tu fais a la maison,” Maman told me. Make yourself at home, do everything that you would at your house. Maman’s broter, Isaacha, who works for the Senegalese department of education as an overseer of high schools, has really taken the initiative in terms of introducing me to the various family members and explaining things to me. However, this is a relative responsibility; while every member of the family has been very kind and friendly, I can tell that they expect me to simply know a lot of things that I don’t. For example, toilet paper is not used here-an alternative cleansing method exists instead. Meal times seem very consistent, but someone has yet to tell me when those consistet times happen to be. It’s difficult to contribute to the household conversations, as most occur in Wolof, but those that do occur in French are often to quick for em to understand. They are certainly making an effort to include me and to slow down for my benefit, but I can tell that a lot of my learning is going to come from observation and my own adjustments, rather than theirs, which is actually probably more beneficial for me in the long run.
The youngest children, who do not yet speak any French, refer to me as “toubab;” a somewhat derogatory slang for a white person (think the Wolof equivalent of the word “gringo”). I don’t mind, since my name is certainly difficult for them to pronounce, and hopefully as I learn a bit of Wolof we will be able to communicate more. Mostly, they are just curious about me. With the older girls, I am hoping that I can form a more legitimate relationship so that they can help me to adjust to the youth culture of Senegal.
Before our family placements, we also went on a tour of the city, visiting old military bases, monuments, and the President’s place of residence. It turns out that we had been staying in a rather poorer part of town, Yoff, where displaced Senegalese were forced to make their homes with the presence of the colonial French. I am currently staying in Ouakam, a much nicer suburb, and the house in which I am staying really is very comfortable and nice.
One major adjustment that I am finding myself forced to make is the difference in time; schedules don’t really exist, and if they do, they are more often than not disregarded. Nobody, neither program leaders nor my host family, really informs us of any plan of action, but somehow, everything that we need to accomplish seems to get done. I’m attempting to curb the neuroticism, or at least limit it to my classes and keep it out of my daily life.
Today we took our placement exams at WARC and we will be having our first Wolof class in the afternoon. I can access the internet pretty regularly here so hopefully it will be easier to stay in touch now.
I`ll write again soon. Bisous
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
January 12
So thankfully we landed safe and sound yesterday...and even more impressively on time. Only one person on the program lost their luggage, and it wasn't me so who cares? yay!
We're staying in a hotel for the night, and meeting up with our host families to move in tomorrow afternoon-I am currently rooming with a sophomore from Mt. Allison, and she's a cross-country runner so we're going on a scenic run of Dakar tomorrow morning before orientation activities start.
Today, right after the continental breakfast (which is basically hot chocolate or coffee and a full baguette) at the hotel, they let us sleep for a few hours before forcing us to become oriented-we went through our cultural handbook and rules of conduct, learned a few traditional Senegalese dance moves, and checked out the beach (pictures to follow). It's incredibly different here-despite Dakar being a large capital city, it's nothing like any city I've ever experienced before. Pedestrians, which include goats more often than people, cross major highways at will, and many of the "streets" certainly do not deserve the name. However, the tropical weather makes everything seem a little more pleasant, except for the fact that all of us are wearing full length skirts or, even worse, jeans.
The food is fantastic, and even more importanty, there's a lot of it. We share dishes while seated on the floor, and eat with our right hands only (without utensils, and without left hands, because they are seen as being used for more unclean bodily purposes), and the food generally consists of a base of some grain or carb, topped with vegetables and a protein (usually chicken or fish) that you combine with the grain into a compressed ball to consume. It's very messy, but you're on the floor anyways so I guess it doesn't really matter.
The students on the program all seem very like-minded; it's definitely going to be a rigorous academic experience, but the nice thing is that we all seem to get along and want to experience the youth culture of Senegal together, as well. However, I am really looking forward to joining my host family in the suburb of Ouakam-two of the other girls have been placed within the same neighborhood, so we'll be able to figure out the public transportation system and class schedules together.
While we haven't done that much, it has been an exhausting day; I haven't slept more than two consecutive hours since I left home, so I think that even though it's only 9:15 here, I'll be going to bed soon. Since turning 21, I've really been a party animal.
I may not have internet access for a bit, at least until we enroll in classes at WARC and Diop starting on Tuesday, but I may do some exploring to find an internet cafe before then.
We're staying in a hotel for the night, and meeting up with our host families to move in tomorrow afternoon-I am currently rooming with a sophomore from Mt. Allison, and she's a cross-country runner so we're going on a scenic run of Dakar tomorrow morning before orientation activities start.
Today, right after the continental breakfast (which is basically hot chocolate or coffee and a full baguette) at the hotel, they let us sleep for a few hours before forcing us to become oriented-we went through our cultural handbook and rules of conduct, learned a few traditional Senegalese dance moves, and checked out the beach (pictures to follow). It's incredibly different here-despite Dakar being a large capital city, it's nothing like any city I've ever experienced before. Pedestrians, which include goats more often than people, cross major highways at will, and many of the "streets" certainly do not deserve the name. However, the tropical weather makes everything seem a little more pleasant, except for the fact that all of us are wearing full length skirts or, even worse, jeans.
The food is fantastic, and even more importanty, there's a lot of it. We share dishes while seated on the floor, and eat with our right hands only (without utensils, and without left hands, because they are seen as being used for more unclean bodily purposes), and the food generally consists of a base of some grain or carb, topped with vegetables and a protein (usually chicken or fish) that you combine with the grain into a compressed ball to consume. It's very messy, but you're on the floor anyways so I guess it doesn't really matter.
The students on the program all seem very like-minded; it's definitely going to be a rigorous academic experience, but the nice thing is that we all seem to get along and want to experience the youth culture of Senegal together, as well. However, I am really looking forward to joining my host family in the suburb of Ouakam-two of the other girls have been placed within the same neighborhood, so we'll be able to figure out the public transportation system and class schedules together.
While we haven't done that much, it has been an exhausting day; I haven't slept more than two consecutive hours since I left home, so I think that even though it's only 9:15 here, I'll be going to bed soon. Since turning 21, I've really been a party animal.
I may not have internet access for a bit, at least until we enroll in classes at WARC and Diop starting on Tuesday, but I may do some exploring to find an internet cafe before then.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Pre-departure
Hey guys!
Just thought this would be an efficient way of keeping in touch/letting you all know I'm still alive while I'm abroad...as of right now, I don't have a huge amount of information regarding my stay, other than these basics on my host family:
Just thought this would be an efficient way of keeping in touch/letting you all know I'm still alive while I'm abroad...as of right now, I don't have a huge amount of information regarding my stay, other than these basics on my host family:
Famille Diop: Ouakam en Centre d’état civil ; Tel: 77 502 40 10
Host mother: Ami Diop, 50 years old. She lives in the house with 2 nieces: Tabara (16) is in middle school, and Ami Colle (3) is in preschool. Mohamed (4) is in preschool and is adopted by Ami Diop. My host grandmother, Maimouna Sow, also lives in the house. (They all live downstairs.)
Issakha and Omar (Ami Diop's brothers) live upstairs with their families. Issakha (42) is a civil servant and lives with his wife, Ndiagna (a housewife), and their two sons Badou (10), and Mamadou Lamine (6). Both sons are in primary school. Omar, Ami Diop's other brother (30) is a civil servant too; his wife Adama Sow stays at home raises their 4 children: Aminata (14), Ousmane (12), and Marietou (10) all go to school and Mame Maguette (3) goes to preschool.
That's about it for now, but I will continue to post updates as they occur. A bientot!
Bisous
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