Real entry for today: first full day in Saint-Louis

Asalaa Maalekum. I arrived in Saint-Louis yesterday around 1 pm safe and sound, and surprisingly with no problems, alxamdulilai! All 11 of us girls (Megan "Alaska" is now an honorary member of our program, she was at the baobab center with us in Dakar and is attending school at UGB too) packed into the sept-place with our gear for the year and took 4 hours to get to Universite Gaston Berger [UGB] (having what will probably be the most comfortable trip to Saint-Louis we will have all year). We arrived on campus dirty, disheveled, and exhausted (most of us had been up late making the most of our last night in Dakar with our families). We got a quick mini-tour of where classes are and then met with Baydallaye (the program director at UGB). As we were completely glazed over as Baydallaye was telling us the program for the next day (today), he caught on immediately, kept things short, and sent us on our way to eat. We had an awesome lunch that had been pre arranged by Baydallaye at a restaurant on campus, chicken with cooked carrots, onions, a salad and french fries...Glorious! Afterwards we got our rooms and had time to unpack/rest. All I wanted was to clean and shower so I did. Mom, you would of been proud, I cleaned my room for 2 1/2 hours before unpacking!

The dorms are in what I think is a pretty sweet set-up. They are arranged into what are called "villages", labeled A-F. Within the villages there are "blocs" or the dorms, 7 total. My building has I think 14 or so rooms, and only two floors (some have 3 or 4). The rooms are all open to the outdoors. Inside, we each have a bed, desk, and closet. The closet to me is HUGE, much roomier than at Wisconsin, or maybe it is just that I have a lot less stuff, either way I feel like I have a ton of space. Each room also has a sink and shower connected to the room. Sounds super ritzy, but there is one downfall, they only turn on the water upstairs from 11pm to 7am... We are given buckets that we can use to fill up with water at the downstairs faucet and then bring back to our rooms. I took my first "sponge" bath yesterday, somehow I mastered it enough to feel totally refreshed and clean. The bathroom/toilet situation was another fun adventure... one has to bring what we Americans call the "bring your own flush", or a little bucket that you fill with water from the little spigot inside the stall and use to flush down the turkish toilet (it is also supposed to be used to wash yourself with, but I think I'm still going to stick with BYOTP). It seemed rather sketchy my first time, but already I feel like I am used to using one now. This whole time my roommate hadn't arrived yet so I had the place to myself, something I'm still a little grateful for. Surprisingly, I definitely was having some homesick twinges; with having to say goodbye to my host family and just having to deal with another new environment I was feeling kind of overwhelmed.

Since arriving, us girls have started to create analogies for everything here. For instance, campus reminds us of camp. Lot of sand, everything really mellow and somewhat planned, but also a lot of free time. Walking into the "resto" you are completely reminded of camp mess halls, food included. Kind of funny analogy that Jill made yesterday was that "we are the weird kids, whose only friends are the other weird kids". Being the conspicuous white kids who just arrived we all feel a little estranged but I know it will just take a little time. Other than the camp comparison, things feel strangely similar to freshman year; new roommate, need to find new friends, don't know where anything is on campus, general ignorance of what is going on. Today things have already started to come together, I recognize places and where to get here or there, etc.

Today all we did was meet with Baydallaye at noon where we also met our Islam lecturer and Wolof prof. We figured out when/where we were going to start lessons and then with Baydallaye discussed our group tour of downtown St.Louis tomorrow. In between breakfast and meeting with Baydallaye I was hanging out in my room when I heard some girls talking outside by my door. I wasn't really doing anything so I decided to bite the bullet and go out and introduce myself. It went over really well. Two of the girls were my neighbors and the third was a friend of theirs who lived in one of the other blocs. All of them were really nice and friendly to me, which was very encouraging since some of the girls who had met their roommates already said they hadn't been that welcoming. They told me that my roommate is from Mauritania and in the math department. They didn't know when she would be arriving so I'm roommateless for the moment. Kind of exciting to have a roommate from someplace other than Senegal!

It's Natalie's birthday today so we are going to try and do something fun tonight, like have a mini party for her. Kind of hard to plan things when we don't know the area, but hopefully we'll be able to make it a decent celebration.

Later!

Friday 10/26/07

ATTENTION! THIS WAS MEANT TO BE POSTED ON FRIDAY BUT BECAUSE OF THE POWER OUTAGE IT WASN'T UNTIL TODAY THAT I COULD GET IT ONLINE:

Today will be my last entry for my home-stay in Dakar. I am rather sad to be leaving my family and the big city. Although it has felt like a long vacation for the most part, I have learned so much from all aspects of living here. I have grown really close to my family; something not all of the girls have experienced. They are expecting me back for Tabaski as well as other weekends just for a visit. They are excited and honored to have Katie (my sister) come and stay with us at the end of December too! To top it all off, because both of my parents are from Saint-Louis, my yaay called her cousin, gave her my phone number (and me, hers), and Fatou Seck is now expecting a call from me once I arrive in Saint-Louis. As Maman told me, “you should call her if you have any questions, problems, or just want to eat at a home, they will expect you to stop by and visit”. I feel so fortunate to have such a substitute family here, I think it makes dealing with life here so much easier (to my family back home: you have not been replaced, I now just have a very large addition to my family tree). It is awesome to know that I have been privy to the Senegalese teranga (hospitality). I will miss them.

My week has been busy busy busy. I made dinner for everyone (Yaay, Papa, Douds, Sals, David, Asstou, Sally[cousin], and Dass) on Tuesday night. Basic pasta with a pre-made pesto sauce I got at the casino (supermarket) tossed with cheese, tomatoes, and roasted chicken. Don’t know how “American” it is, but it is something that I would eat at home, which was the point. It definitely was a hit, both with the family and me (I was able to cook, something I miss doing). Classic American/Minnesotan finish: Congo bars (chocolate chip bars for anyone not in my family)! Also went over fantastically, although brown sugar was quite tricky to find, and extremely expensive. The funny thing was was that they seemed rather surprised that I could cook; Maman has been telling everyone about it.

Yesterday after our Wolof “test” and Baobab evaluation 8 of us went with one of our former Baobab guides, Adema, to her studio to learn how to batik (ba-teek). Batiking is a type of design on fabrics. Typically one uses wax to make the patterns, but some batik is also hand drawings with paint. We learned what chemicals are used to make the dyes (all organic at this place): hydro sulfate and compound mixed with the dye and water. Each of us got plain white fabric and went to town using stamps dipped in melted wax and then pressed on the fabric, or a dotting technique, or free-lance painting on of the wax. After putting the designs on the fabric with the wax we wet down the cloth, then dipped it in the cold dye of our choice, and after some minutes (depending on how dark you wanted it) took it out, rinsed it in hot water to get the wax off, and then hung it up to dry. It was a totally unique experience and we all had a blast. I took a look at my patterns today and I feel so proud of myself for making my own of something very traditionally African.

Things just got better from last night. Today I went to Lac Rose with Annie, Natalie, and Douds. My cousin, Lune (means moon in French) is a taxi driver, so he gave us a good price to be rented out for the day and drive us up to the lake (which is usually about 2 hours away). We headed out about 9 (really equivalent to 10, since it’s on Senegalese time) and got there in less than the estimated 2 hours…I think we just got lucky with the traffic out of town. It was so nice to get out of the city. You don’t realize how much of a bubble you are in, and it had been so easy to forget that there is so much more out in Senegal. The lake itself is dubbed Rose Lake because of its color: it literally is pink! The reason for it is its salinity; it is ridiculously salty. Everyone in my family thought it was crazy that I wanted to swim in it, but we girls really wanted to see what it felt like to have super floating skills. It was every bit as cool as we thought it would be. The bottom was kind of gross because there was major clay lining the bottom and your feet would be all squishy, but it was completely worth it to be so buoyant. It was crazy, you could sit up like you were in a reclining chair and the water would hold you! And lame as it is, I tried a little synchro ballet leg and holy moly, I don’t think I have ever gotten such height, and with so little effort! Other than the floating part, it was interesting to experience the transfer of heat in the water. Seeing as how I am no science person I have no idea why this is, but for one the lake trapped heat like no other; I felt like I was taking a bath. The other was that it was exponentially warmer/hotter on the bottom with the clay, and grew cooler by the top. Overall, it was an excellent adventure and quite the gem. I now am basking in my pulsating sunburn and ready to take a nap.

Á Saint-Louis!

Goree pictures

Picture link of Goree:

http://wisc.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2299351&l=e1935&id=8629540

House of Slaves

There I am sporting the Tilly Hat on the second floor. If you look closely on the first floor the little glimpse of light is the door of no return. The second floor where I am standing is where the buyers and sellers of the slaves would stand and haggle over the price of the slave that was standing chained in that middle circle area between the two staircases.

Goree Island

The beach and houses along Goree. The white retaining wall on the left was right in front of the restaurant that we ate at. Also, note the piroug in the water.

Goree Island and Learning to Cook

The past few days have been chock full of activity as we are approaching our last week in Dakar. Saturday was the group trip to Goree Island. We took two hours in the morning to give us some background knowledge on the history and significance of the island. By noon we were at the docks where we all took a ferry (really just a boat, think tour boat size) from the mouth of Dakar to the island. It took about twenty minutes and the views of the city were great. The departure point was in the middle of the industrial sect of Dakar; lots of pirougs and big ships were around, it almost felt like Duluth (minus the pirougs). Everyone in my family had told me in advance how beautiful Goree is, and how similar it is to Saint-Louis with the architecture; they were right about the former, we’ll see about the latter. My first impression of the island from the ferry was how much it looked like some tropical beach island. All of the buildings are brightly colored and in the classic colonial style. Palm trees are all over the place, as are patches of tropical flowers. Straight off the boat we headed to the History Museum located right on the water and housed in an old slave house. To be honest the museum itself wasn’t that interesting. It was focused on the early prehistoric beginnings of Senegal, was all in French, and only had pottery and some arrowhead artifacts. However, the views of the ocean left nothing to be desired, and we also had a fairly good visual of the island and beach. Afterwards we grabbed a bite to eat at a restaurant on the beach and headed over to the Museum of Women. This was also in an old slave house and had a lot of traditional Senegalese objects. A tour guide brought us through and explained the role of women in Senegalese life, something that was very inspiring for all 10 of us girls. Right across the street from the museum was the famous House of Slaves. This was the most moving and powerful place on the island for me. It was so surreal for me to actually be there, especially after having done a huge project in my French class at the UW on a painting of this house. The house itself was not very large, but the number of people who have gone through it on their way to be sold as slaves in the Americas is astounding. It was horrifying to hear about how they were treated and to see where they were kept. The “door of no return” or “porte de sans retour” while very touristy, still struck a note in me. Looking out at the waves crashing against the rocks (back in the 1700-1800’s there was a long dock out to sea that the ships would dock at, now they have been broken down) one can only imagine how desolate a slave would feel looking out at the vast ocean. This took up most of our afternoon, so by the time we finished we had only a little free time on the island. I went for a swim, but I’m hoping to go back another time to explore more of the island as there is a large portion that we never got to see.

As though my long day did not tire me out enough, I decided to make use of the music scene in Dakar and went out Saturday night. A couple of the other girls wanted to do the same as me so we met up with Moussa and Mactar, the brothers of two of the girls, and their friends and went to a reggae concert. It ended up being just down the street from my house which was super convenient so I was able to leave whenever I wanted and not have to worry about being accompanied home! (It’s these little pockets of independence that become so precious when you are a girl at night). I had a blast with the girls and our Senegalese friends. The concert was outside in a basketball court so it was nice and cool and there was a lot of space. We danced like crazy so that by the time I crashed in bed I was completely beat.

Sunday was a lazy day with one exception. I woke up mid morning and made pancakes for everyone! I brought our Michigan maple syrup for the family and then made the pancakes from a mix I got right before I left. It was definitely a hit. I’m not really sure what to tell them to do with all of the syrup however, so if anyone has any great ideas, please pass them forward! My cousin Sally then came over to bring me to the market to buy more fabric, this time a more traditional African pattern. I’m pretty pumped for it, it may even become my Tabaski outfit…we’ll see how well my design turns out. The rest of the day was spent at my sister Sals’ house. I lounged around with the family and played with Abdoul Aziz and the baby. Doesn’t get a whole lot better for a Sunday.

Today the Baobab Center organized a hands-on day. We spent 4 hours preparing ceeb jen (pronounced chey-bu jenn and translating to rice and fish, the national dish of Senegal). I had no idea there was so much work behind it! Now I understand why servants are so common, food preparation alone is half the day. After eating, we then started to learn the process of making ataaya, the tea that is so popular here. So much harder than it looks, pouring the cups (or what look like shot glasses) back and forth to create the perfect amount of foam is quite the feat. I hope to learn how to do it like a pro by the end of the year, I’m totally hooked on it. After that experience the group went downtown to an art gallery to view a new collection by a Senegalese artist. His paintings were amazing. Very African themed, he used lots of bright colors and utilized great texturing techniques to create these oil paintings that I loved. We then ate dinner at the French Cultural Center. This place is super sweet, a weird little fusion of Western and African ideas. They have a large outside stage for cool concerts that they put on, and have a great restaurant (Katie, I am bringing you there when you come to visit, it is a little haven of “normal” food), all surrounded by well kept tropical gardens. Only now have I had time to relax and get ready for my totally scheduled rest of the week.

I can’t believe I am starting actual school in less than a week, inshallah!

SIDE NOTES:

At the request of my mother, and apparently others reading my blog, I have been asked to comment on the dress code here. With the pictures I have posted you have seen the range of what people wear over here. Surprisingly enough, from the waist up, anything is really fair game for women. I would even venture to say that young women wear more scanty tops than in the US. The knee rule definitely does apply here though. I have not seen a single woman wear something above the knee unless they are going out at night (and even then it is not common). I went running for the first time yesterday and wore a pair of long soccer shorts that hit right above the knees. I think half the looks I got from people was because they were a little "risque" (the other reason being that NO girls do sports of any kind). Traditional outfits and western style clothing are equally worn. Older women seem to tend to wear traditional clothing more often (my yaay only wears African style clothing) and for the majority of time wear a headscarf that matches. I believe that the headscarf is really more an accessory and fashion statement than a religious deference. In the picture of my family the women are wearing a longer shawl type thing (I don't remember the name of it). This is what they all must wear to cover their heads when they pray and I took the picture right after their Ramadan prayers. It is pretty rare to see women wearing the full shawl all the time, but the headscarf is common. As white Christians, we girls stand out if only because we don't dress as nicely as everyone else on a regular basis! As for men, dress is similar. There are equal numbers of people who wear western as traditional clothing, with older men tending to wear traditional style more often. I was so excited however last week when I ran into my papa as he was returning from a game of petank (the African equivalent to bocce ball); he was wearing the bright red University of Wisconsin t-shirt that I gave him, with matching red windpants, and a red hat!...He would of fit right in at any Badger football game he was so decked out in red! I will say that it is required for both men and women to cover their heads when they go to the mosque. Men wear a mini hat while women wear this shawl thing and both sexes are pretty well covered in the traditional outfits. I feel as though things are rather relaxed and don't feel very restricted by any means as to what I can wear. An interesting aspect of life that I have observed but hadn't realized other people would be interested in knowing more about. Please let this be an example of how I am always willing to share insight on random parts of Senegalese life, just give me a topic and I will definitely address it!

Photo Links

Since it takes up so much space and time, here are the links to two of my photo albums with pictures of life here. Enjoy!

http://wisc.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2292852&l=3774b&id=8629540

http://wisc.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2294628&l=2c4d9&id=8629540

Ecopole

Today was a hot one. I have no idea what the temperature was outside in the sun, but all I know is that sweat was running in rivulets down my face as I walked to class at 9 am (think sweatiness of working out). The heat is something I have definitely gotten used to though. When I first arrived I felt so gross being sweaty all the time, but now I have gotten past it and have figured out that everyone else perspires as much as I do. However, the girls and I do talk about how we could really go for a crisp midwestern autumn day about this time. October hasn’t quite felt like itself, and it’s hard to believe that we are fast approaching the end of the month.

This morning held many activities for us girls. We had typical Wolof class for two hours, but afterwards had another cultural session. Instead of staying at the Baobab Center, we went into the downtown Dakar area to visit a place called Ecopole. It is a small sub-region of the downtown, more to the east side. Ecopole is the name of an organization which collects everyday materials (some would call it garbage) and creatively recycles them by making different types of art. For instance, they collect bottle caps and wire them together to make anything from a table top to a small trinket box. They fashion functional rolling play cars out of tin cans and plastic bottle tops. The man who showed us around explained that the organization is not just about recycling; it is about providing jobs for people who have nothing, and affords the many kids who don’t go to school a chance to learn some technical skills. Every year Ecopole hosts an expo where they sell all of the products that they have made. This was the site that we visited.

We were also led around the surrounding area where the people who are involved in the recycling process live and work. The conditions were ridiculous. All of us were made acutely aware of the financial differences between our host families and these families working for Ecopole. There was no way there was a plumbing system, meaning no toilets and worse, no running water. Houses were just shacks lined up next to each other, made helter skelter with whatever leftover materials could be had. Kids were all over the place, most wearing ratty clothing. The living quarters were wedged in right next to the working shanties, whose enterprise varied from a forgery to a woodshop. It is so surreal to see people utilizing technology that to most people in the US is completely obsolete. Dad, I thought of you as I saw two boys about high school aged, working together to saw a piece of wood to make a relatively ornate headboard… They were using a rusty handsaw. I felt so out of place as a “rich white foreign girl” being led around and observing what lot in life these people had been given. Yet despite the stark difference between our socioeconomic levels, the Senegalese were very friendly and chatty with us.

This afternoon we were given a surprise and met briefly for another cultural session only to be given a little piece of homework to be done with our families before meeting again. A group of us wanted to go back into downtown Dakar to check out some traditional African fabrics, so we turned right around and went back into “the city”. It was exhilarating walking around one of the markets by ourselves. As we were walking trying to find the fabric area we were spotted by one of the many “hasslers” Senegalese markets are known for. These guys latch on to people and try to figure out what they are looking for. After extracting that knowledge, they then proceed to try and lure you to a store with that product and act as an intermediary between the vendor and yourself, getting a commission from the process. The last time I had gone into the downtown for a pair of shoes, a man latched on to me and actually was quite helpful in finding me a pair of shoes I liked. All I had to do was describe what I was looking for and he searched out possibilities and I said yes or no. He even made sure it was the right size. Today was not so fortunate. This guy was kind of a sleaze and so he was much harder to shake. Thankfully for us girls, we ducked into a small fabric shop where a really nice seller figured out what we were looking for and brought us over to his brother’s shop where there was more of a selection. We girls have decided that intuition is very astute and we should rely on it in deciding who is worthy of our trust. The nice seller may have had his family in mind when he brought us to his brother’s, but at least the men at the boutique were good humored and were somewhat honest about their fabric. The hassler however, continued to bother us even in the shop, but finally after ignoring him enough, left when we made it clear we were going home.

So goes the adventures of downtown visits. Much is to be seen and experienced. There are always surprises, but little by little I feel as though I am getting the hang of things and these surprises are easily dealt with.

Ba beenen.

These are the dudes I hang out with...they fancy themselves to be "thugs", or at least my brother does.
Left to right; (not sure of his name, just met him on Saturday), Lamine, Douds, Dass. This was taken while we were making ataaya.

N'Gor

Megan and I in the piroug on our way out to N'Gor island.

Korité

Left to right; Abdoul Aziz, David, Sals (Sally), Me rockin it in my traditional outfit, Ma yaay, new baby Salimata Edwije. This was taken on Korité.

How time has flown by. I just checked my computer to see when the last time I wrote an entry and realized I have not been very good with keeping up on my day to day activities. I can’t believe I have already been here for 2 weeks. Other than my French still being adequate at best, I feel pretty integrated in Dakar life. My Wolof classes have been everyday this week for 4 hours a day (2 hours in the morning and 2 at night). My class rules! Our professor’s name is Ismaila, who is a small, middle-aged, unmarried Senegalese man. He is hilarious and puts up with ridiculous amounts of teasing from us young, American girls. He has been a great teacher, although I should probably try and be a better student as I have good short term memory skills, but after one day of not really studying the material, I forget how to speak anything. We do get homework most every night, but it is one piece of paper with translation sentences. My family has gotten really into helping me every night after dinner. They regard my pronunciation and struggles with bemusement, however I can tell they enjoy helping me with my homework.

I finally got the opportunity to see the new baby on Thursday night. I went with Douds and my brother-in-law (Sally’s husband), David, to see Sally at the clinic. What a baby. She is the smallest thing I have ever seen, with quite the thatch of hair for a newborn. Sally had still not decided on a name for her which is typical in Muslim families. The process is to wait one week until the baptism before officially naming the baby.

Friday we only had Wolof class in the morning since no one knew when the actual day of Korite would be, so we all had most of the day off to explore Dakar. Right after class Cath, Natalie, and I walked to Marche HLM to check out jewelry and shoes. This was the same place that I went to last week with my cousin to get fabric. It was just as crowded although less hot as we maneuvered our way through the crowds to check out the wares. I got a few pairs of earrings for ridiculously cheap- one was $.20 and the other $1. They obviously were not of great quality, but you could find the same types in most stores in the US and they would be at least $4-5. Got to bargain for the first time; wasn’t super intense like I thought it would be, but I’m still excited about the experience.

After our adventure we met up with a few of the other girls and took a taxi up to N’Gor island. We got to take a real Piroug across the bay which was fun. These boats are the traditional fishing boats of Senegal and are somewhat infamous for their colors and designs. The beach on the island was decent. We could tell that it was definitely a tourist spot as the majority of the people on the beach were classic Toubabs (foreigners, usually just a coined term for white people). We stayed for an hour or two and then decided to explore the rest of the area. Our theories on the tourist bit were confirmed as we walked around. It felt like we were in some weird little wonderland secret garden. Huge houses (big for Senegal, for the US the square feet would probably be equivalent to typical suburban homes) with magnificent gardens took over the island and were packed next to each other with big walls separating each lot. The big rounded stone walls lined the road that we walked on, giving us the feeling that we were walking in a garden maze. There were some magnificent views of the ocean at certain points in our walk, which gave us an excuse to stop and take everything in. We got back just at sunset in time for the final breaking of the Ramadan fast. My night was like pretty much every other one this week, I hung out with Douds on the terrace/patio upstairs listening to music and chatting until late in the night.
Korite, the huge celebration that has been building over the course of the fasting month of Ramadan. I woke at about 9 am to the sounds of the house preparing for all the visitors. I had told my yaay that I would help, although when it came down to it, I felt kind of in the way or totally not needed. Therefore, I took up the one job I had had lots of practice with, watching Abdoul Aziz (my 17 month old nephew). By mid morning most of the house was ready. I was given ngalax, a millet sort of equivalent to hot oatmeal with a sweet peanut sauce, for breakfast. This is a traditional dish served specially for Korite. My yaay made a ridiculous amount of ngalax so that she could give some away to friends, which I assume is equivalent to Christmas cookie give-away for Christians. I found it to be tasty, although the sauce gets to be kind of intense about halfway through. I finally got my dress back from the tailleur (tailor). It turned out really well, especially seeing as how I motioned with my hands and used only a few words in French to tell the guy what I wanted. I did have some issues with the bust area, so Maman stripped me out of the dress and did some quick seamstress work. She completely fixed it, but in the process ended up taking in about an inch around my waist…that tightness combined with my peigne, which is the underneath skirt you wear like a wraparound, was rather uncomfortable throughout the day, but at least everything stayed in place. Dressing me up in the traditional style clothing was really fun for my yaay and aunt. I found how personal modesty is pretty nonexistent as I stood in my underwear and bra for about a half an hour while Yaay prodded me, sewed my dress, and Asstou cinched me into the peigne (oh Mom, only you would of appreciated the height placement of the skirt, think natural waist plus 2 inches higher).

Lunch came at around 4 pm. I accompanied Douds to his friend Bill’s house to eat. Apparently he and his friends have the tradition of eating at Bill’s every year for Korite. I wasn’t complaining, the food was excellent. We had couscous (oh man yes, something other than rice!), with the onion sauce, and chicken and mutton. What an experience eating crammed around the bowl with about 10 other Senegalese guys and one girl. They were packing it in! I don’t think I have ever seen that much food eaten. The bowl kept being refilled and refilled. I was finished after the first round! Those of you who know my eating habits would be floored to see this group take it in. It is a battle every night to refuse more food, and yesterday was even more so as everyone kept telling me to eat more. Once everyone finished we went to the outside deck of the house and sat around talking and making ataaya (Senegalese tea which I have taken a strong liking to). Everyone was speaking mostly in Wolof, but every once in a while someone would talk to me in French. I actually really enjoyed hanging out despite not knowing what people were talking about. Later I went back to the house to be with the new baby and Sally. I ate again at about 8:30 with my yaay and papa. Everyone left the house relatively early resulting in the parents going to bed earlier than normal. I took a nap for an hour before heading over to Cath’s house for a little gathering with all of the girls. We hung out on her roof with all of us, plus two girls who are with the Kalamazoo program and are doing a shorter program in reverse of ours (they are in Saint-Louis right now and are coming back to Dakar, but lived with two of the girls in our program’s families), and Moussa and a couple of his friends. A few of us later in the night decided to hitch a ride with Natalie’s brother and friend on their way to a dance club, so we didn’t have to pay for a cab. We arrived on perfect Senegalese time, sometime after 1 am. It was a really fun time; the club wasn’t super crowded so we actually had space to dance. I saw two guys rocking it with the mbalax style dancing so I went over and started trying to copy their moves. They thought it was pretty funny, this white girl in full Senegalese garb trying to move like them. In retrospect I don’t think I was half bad; we’ll see how it goes next time. I came back home way past my usual weekend bedtime (early for Senegalese), but proud of myself for making it that late.

Today I got to experience a Muslim baptism. It was the biggest family gathering ever. My observation was that it was more about the entire family than either the mother or the new baby. I took tons of pictures because the actual ceremony was pretty cool. The Muslim religious man (I think he is called an Isman) gives a sermon and at the end blesses the baby with its new name by whispering the name in each ear. The rest of the day was spent split between the house of Sals and my house, where everyone ate. I am dog tired now, all the stimulation of meeting a ton of people, eating like its my job, and trying to think in French has been quite the killer.
A toute a l’heure.

L'ile de Madeleine. We didn't swim at this exact spot but the other side was much calmer.

New Baby in My Family!!!!

What a weekend! Saturday dawned early with Wolof class (only at 9, but still, a Saturday class). We have class for two hours at a time usually, but one thing I am learning is that it usually only ends up being 1.5 hours. At the Baobab center we always take a “short” break for coffee or tea in the middle of the two hours. All of us sit around for a while chatting and don’t end up getting back into the classroom for at least 20 minutes. We also end up getting off topic; today we talked with our teacher about why he doesn’t cook for himself…he sounded like the typical bachelor. After class on Saturday I went back home where I met my cousin, also Sally, who brought me and Sandra (another girl in the program) to the market to buy fabric for our new Korite clothing. Reflecting on my first venture into a Senegalese market, it followed all descriptions of craziness. There were thousands of people in quite a small area. What at first glance seemed to be totally haphazard stalls, really was a general conglomeration of similar products organized into different sections. So nerdy to say this, but my best description would be to compare it to my version of Diagon Alley. When we first got into the market we pushed our way in to a stall that sold fabric, looked around for a while and then all of a sudden Sally pulled me through a random little opening between two stalls and it was like appearing in the middle of a completely different place! I was surrounded by a multitude of stalls all advertising their wares with brilliantly colored cloth. It was a lot of fun to look at all of the cloth, although a little overwhelming because there were so many different kinds to choose from. I decided on what I wanted pretty quickly, although ironically it proved to be kind of hard to find. I ended up choosing medium blend cotton, teal blue, with gold threading in it. It came with a matching head wrap which I am rather pumped to wear, true Senegalese style!

Saturday night I “went out” with Douds. Because it is Ramadan things are much slower paced; most clubs and bars are closed, and everyone just “chills” as Douds likes to put it. We went to his neighborhood hangout where I met a bunch of his friends. He has known all of them since he was born; kind of cool that the “neighborhood gang” has been together for all of these years. After an hour or two Douds and I walked over to another hangout, an American fast food place called Ceasars. We just sat and talked for a couple hours while I got an ice cream, what a treat! Douds is an awesome host brother, while we hung out with his friends he would periodically stop to explain to me what was going on. The relationships they have with each other are fun to observe. They speak in a mixture of Wolof, French, and “cool/gangsta” English words. When it was just Douds and I at Ceasars, we had some really fun conversations; he taught me some “street slang” (aka somewhat bad words, hehehe) and we just joked around for a while. I surprised myself by being able to understand as well as crack jokes in French, something I’m rarely able to do in English, let alone another language. All in all, a good night.

Sunday was also an early morning, seeing as how I didn’t get to bed until 3am (and Douds even brought me home early, he went back out again after walking me home)! On Friday the entire group of girls had decided to go to l’ile de Madeleine, an island off the coast of Dakar. With Cath’s host brother leading, bright and early we set off on foot, to the departure point for the island. When we finally got there we had to take two boats as one was already partially filled with another group. It is a 40 minute round trip so I along with 5 others waited for the return boat. As I approached the island on the boat my breath was caught by the majesty of the dark rocks, jutting straight up from the ocean floor. To get onto the island the boat has to dart in between the cliffs and dock at a small rock pier. With the waves crashing against the sides of the island it looked a bit perilous, but as soon as we entered the little islet the waves calmed and I saw little pockets where the waves had carved out little pools for swimming in. There was one tree on the whole island so shade was hard to come by, but the sun felt great since I was in a swimsuit and had the ocean at my feet. Of course after about an hour, I could feel the UV rays rocking my unseasoned skin so a little late I frantically applied the SPF. The burn hasn’t been that bad because I thankfully brought aloe here, my only complaint could be the wicked suntan lines I have now acquired. I stayed later with part of the group which ended up being an excellent choice because it cooled down significantly later in the afternoon and we were able to experience the island at a more pleasant temperature. Last night I stayed up despite my sun exhaustion to watch Douds at the coiffure. Senegalese are very fastidious with their appearance, taking care to always look good. He goes to the “hairdresser” twice a week to get his head and facial hair shaved. Chalk that one up to a sweet Senegalese experience.

Today I had normal Wolof classes as well as a cultural session on the Senegalese education system. The exciting news of the day was that Sals (my older sister) just had her baby!! A little girl. She has yet to name her, but the christening will probably be next Monday. I’m so excited to be able to be a part of it all. The whole family is very happy as both the baby and Sals are healthy. Tomorrow I will get to go visit her at the clinic, I can’t wait.

This is the "highway" that I pass on my way to and from class. They are in the process of rebuilding it so that there will be a sidewalk. The Islamic summit is supposed to take place here in a few months so there is major reconstruction being done all over the city right now.

The view from our apartment the first day. Notice the taxi as well as the horse drawn cart. Interesting contrast between the two.

This is me in Madrid while we had our 8 hour layover, a few of us ventured into downtown to check out Spain. Notice the tilly hat, can you tell Im a foreigner?

Meeting the host family

So much has happened in the past few days it is hard to believe it is only Friday. I have been so busy getting moved in to my host family and starting classes at the Baobab center that it has been hard to find time to get to an internet café. There is one right down the block from my house, but my older brother informed me that we should be getting internet at their house sometime next week. I’ll start with my family, the most exciting part of these past few days.

I am living in the area of Mermoz, pretty much smack dab in the middle of Dakar. My host family is pretty well-off; apparent from the super nice living room/dining room that they have, and the fact that everyone has/had a job. I have my own room which is small (compared to mine back home), but is perfect for the amount of stuff I have. I share a bathroom with my older brother, Douds (pronounced, “Dudes”). My family really consists of Maman and Papa and Douds. My parents are both grandparents, their two oldest daughters have small kids. Their oldest lives in Washington DC with her husband, who works for a big bank. Salimata (Sally) is in her 30’s and is very pregnant with her second child. Her first, Abdoul Aziz is 17 months old, and the cutest little boy I have ever seen. The two of them don’t live at the house, but they are there for most of the day, every day. Sally is the one who helps me with my French the most, correcting me when I say things wrong, something I really appreciate. Douds is 30, and works for a computer company making websites for other companies. He has been the most helpful and is always trying to make me feel at home. The first night was not as awkward as I thought it would be. My French is terrible, and my family was rather surprised when I told them I took French for 5 years, but I think they understood a little better when I said I took a break for 2 years. The kids and Papa are all fluent in English, so in a pinch I am able to ask what the translation is in English. We looked at my photos and then ate dinner together around the bowl on the ground. They have a nice deck/patio on the second floor where everyone eats and hangs out. It is really nice at night because you can catch a breeze which cools things down quite a bit. Everyone is very patient with my questions, all formed in the worst way, but I am learning a lot about the relationships within a family.

Yesterday I got up for class and walked to the Baobab center by myself. It is about a 10-15 minute walk. I really enjoy walking to school by myself as it gives me a sense of independence in this big city. We started Wolof on Wednesday so I now know the basic salutations. Being able to greet people is really important in Senegal and people are still surprised and pleased when I can say hello and ask how they are. We had our first cultural session yesterday where we started to learn about different Wolof words which convey a Senegalese value. They all are charged with such meaning that it is interesting that there is no straight translation for any single word. For example my favorite word yesterday was Jom, which is loosely translated as hardworking, perseverance, and the courage to be strong. We all had lunch together at the center around the bowl, only with our hands. We learned the correct practices and manners for when you eat around the bowl. It feels like you are going back to when you touched everything as a little baby. Our teacher explained it in a better way though, that eating with your hands is more natural, and actually the oils in your hand break down food easier. Interesting to say the least. Unfortunately by lunchtime I had started to feel a little under the weather; my stomach region was starting to react to the new environment. When we commenced the afternoon session I was having a hard time of things and so left to lie down for a while. I ended up getting sick a few times, the first one of the group! Thankfully we had a late lecture with a doctor, so while I was delirious and going in and out of sleep, he was able to prescribe me with Peridys, a medicine that helped with my nausea. When I got home (after two of the girls brought me back in a taxi) Douds went and got the medicine for me and so I just rode out the sickness for the night. My family was really nice throughout, trying to make sure I had everything I wanted. Even though I know it was their job, I was so grateful for their hospitality.

Today I slept in, hoping to give my body some more time to adjust. I missed my Wolof lesson, but I know it was better to get the rest. I made it to the Baobab center in time to go to the Downtown sortie. We took the bus to get to the heart of Dakar. What a trip! First off, I realized on the ridiculously crowded bus that I perhaps was not fully recovered. I was able to get a seat for most of the trip which helped matters ten-fold, but wow, think of how you would feel pressed up against either heavily perfumed, or total B.O.ed sweaty people in 90 degree weather in a confined space, not good combinations. It seemed only appropriate that our first public transportation experience ended in our bus breaking down in the middle of the road and so we had to wait for about 15 minutes until we could get on to the next one. Downtown reminded me of any other big city, lots of people, tons of sellers trying to hawk their wares on the side of the street, and cars everywhere. The taxi situation here is somewhat comical. Horns are used for everything, whether to just say, “I am behind you” or the equivalent of a catcall, the air is always filled with the noise. While we were downtown we stopped by the huge market that Dakar is famous for. A little intimidating, but I’m excited to go back when I feel a little bit better.

Tonight I am going to go out with the other girls in the program for Megan’s birthday. We are going to find a restaurant and then afterwards there is a free play we heard about through the Babobab center that we are going to try and go see. First night “out on the town”…hope all goes well.

Alxamdulilah.

First Real Day in Dakar

Hi everyone! I survived the flight in to Dakar with few hitches (surprisingly the trouble I had was in the US and not in Madrid or Dakar). I am writing my first words to everyone back home via the telecentre next door to the apartment that all 10 of us girls are staying in until we get our host families-which will be tomorrow night. You will all have to bear with me as I write as I am on an hour limit and writing with a french keyboard (think of what it was like when you were in 3rd grade learning how to type and you missed the keys all the time...I never realized how much I dont look at the keys anymore as well as the symbols-I still cant figure out where some of them are). Once I get into a routine and settled with my host family the baobab center has internet access so I should be able to get internet more regularly. I'll try to put up the many pictures I have already taken.

I cant really believe I am here, things still seem like a dream. Getting by with my french is not as bad as I thought, although we'll see what happens when I am on my own with the family.

Today we got a mini tour by some of the ladies (about our age maybe a little older) who work at the baobab center around Dakar. Things remind me a little of Mexico if I could compare it to anything-the heat/temperature (we are still in their summer so it is hot and humid even for them...aka like 90-95°), people all over the streets, the level of poverty, etc. The architecture in the area we are in is very similar to the styles of the middle east, think lots of arches and stone/plaster. I saw my first baobab tree! They are all over the city and not as big as the ones you see out on the plains, but still impressive.

So far though, I don't feel as out of place as I thought I would be as a white female. People have been super friendly; firsthand evidence of their hospitality. We start Wolof classes tomorrow which will be good because way more people speak it than outsiders believe. People are also way more impressed with you when you break out the Wolof. They laugh at us "toubabs" or foreigners but you can tell that it pleases them a lot to hear someone try to speak their native tongue. The gals who were our tour guides in the morning came over to our apartment while we ate (it is still Ramadan for them so most of them were fasting and didn't eat, although if you are a woman with your period you don"t have to follow it for the week) and hung out with us until we had to go back to the center. They were an awesome source of random Wolof vocab as well as just fun to ask girly cultural questions. If these ladies are anything like other Senegalese females, they are super open about everything.

The food has been well prepared for us every meal, I feel rather spoiled. Same type of food as what I experienced at my orientation in Madison; cooked root vegetables in some type of spice with rice and lots of baguette! They also do this casserole type thing with peas and beef and a sort of gravy/sauce...just like home. The only thing is that most things are made hot or cooked, which means you sweat even more than usual; hot food on a hot day, definitely very different from what we are used to. Breakfast is like how the French do things; baguette with their version of nutella, or jam, or this awesome swiss spreadable cheese. They gave us bananas for dessert at lunch, oh man I was so pumped. Fruit never tasted so good.

The girls on my program are all really fun. We've bonded like crazy in just these few days. I'm excited to have them around as we all seem pretty ready to be independent and meet Senegalese people, but also come back together to rehash the funny mishaps and discuss the new culture. I forsee more good times to come.

This little synopsis of my day has taken me quite a while to chicken peck out so I will need to cut this short, but I hope you are all doing well back home. To those of you who are going to skype, I'll be working on that as soon as possible; bear with me, time moves much slower and relaxed in these parts of the world.

As the Senegalese say: Jamm ak Jamm!