St. Louis (sans Arch) Part II

Upon our return to St. Louis, I quickly changed and met up with Joniffer (my name for the California classmates Jonathan and Jennifer), Elle, Lindsay, Ali, Kate, and Faith. The plan: to get our passports stamped by crossing the Senegal River into Mauritania. After walking for several kilometers, Jonathan proclaimed a grove of trees to be the border. A while later, we asked someone coming back to Senegal with rice where the border crossing was – surprise, surprise the International Relations major was right! After frolicking in the sand and surf, we returned to find a lovely dinner and running water!!! I changed and went out with the crew to a bar, the tavern, and a disco. Ali described the last as being “attacked by wild sharks” – there were no Senegalese women in the club, and several amorous Senegalese men. We managed to huddle together like musk oxen and form a protective circle, but everyone was still ready to head home after a few hours.

Sunday started slowly for me, as I had learned not to expect prompt meal service. After breakfast, we loaded the buses and went on a quick tour of some of the town’s highlights: a square with a statue of Louis Faidherbe (first colonial governor of Senegal), the Langue de Barbarie (a peninsula which shields the island from the ocean), and a museum. Ceebu jen was had and somewhat enjoyed by all, and we departed again for the return trip. My host mother still wants me to keep searching for the spoon, but is not too upset about it. Now to work on that final history paper…

Update: No one has mentioned anything else about the spoon, and I'm NOT going to bring it up!

St. Louis (sans Arch) Part I

I spent the last weekend in the city of Saint Louis, the original colonial capital of Senegal. We left only half an hour behind schedule, during which time I asked everyone if they had seen a giant spoon after Thanksgiving dinner. My seat mate was the always amazing Jen, and we had a relatively enjoyable five hours of chatting, reading, and napping. I brought along a novel and some homework for Wolof class – yay pretending to be productive! The program was split between two separate inns: one was more of a youth hostel with a really cool vibe, and the other was a more traditional hotel at which we ate all of our meals. I stayed in the more convenient accommodations. I would’ve said nicer, but there was no running water in either place, which isn’t a big issue after living here for over three months. Friday night, I headed over to the hostel and it was decided over beers that my friends and I would head over to this cool tavern to hear a free concert by Orchestre Téranga (Hospitality Orchestra). I was still in my school T-shirt and shorts, so I walked home to change only to find that my roommate couldn’t open the door from the inside without a key. Now, my own door works this way at home, but we keep the key in at all times in order to prevent people from being locked inside and outside of the house at one time. A quick jaunt back and forth, and I managed to briskly walk in the moonlight to the tavern for half an hour of good music. I hadn’t slept well the night before, so I went to bed in order to be up at 6:00 for the bird park!
On Saturday, I learned why we refer to these trips as “excursions,” which evokes camping, instead of “vacations.” We awoke to find that the water had turned on briefly during the night – just long enough for the back of our toilet to overflow the bathroom and soak an arc in the carpet of our room. No one’s stuff was damaged, alxamdulilaa (thanks be to God), but it did not bode well. After rationalizing to myself that no one would get a shower, I headed down to breakfast at 6:30 am to find that a) it was very cold and b) nothing resembling breakfast settings was in place. Several of us warmed ourselves by the oven until items began to trickle in at 7:00. Jen and Isaac passed the time by discussing favorite coffee-like beverages. Sadly, Nescafé didn’t make anyone’s cut. We loaded the buses at 8:30ish and arrived at the park before 11:00. For some reason, I had been expecting something similar to the boardwalk in the Everglades. Instead, we went off in two pirogues and were able to get very close to pelicans, cormorants, and other lake fauna (like crocodiles!). Our lunch was amazing: we each got a chicken sandwich, a cheese sandwich, an orange, a banana, and a pop!

Thanksgiving, Teranga Style

Happy Belated Thanksgiving everyone! We celebrated yesterday as a combined American/Senegalese cohort, complete with administrators, at the residence where I spent my first week in Senegal. All of the Americans brought a side dish (stuffing, pies, sauces, etc.) and the Senegalese provided the Fanta and Coca-Cola. Of course, being proud US citizens, everyone went to the grocery store around the corner and bought five buck chuck (from the south of France, no less!) to pass around the dinner table. My lovely friend Kate, who will make an amazing room mother in the near future, and I made Dirt and Worms. Well, it was instant pudding cooked over a propane tank with gummy gators and smurfs, but somehow "Dirty Swamp" just didn't have the same ring to it. I received several compliments on the dish and my new Senegalese clothes. The mitt story (see previous entries) was also good for a few laughs. The administrators made an admirable effort to mix up the two groups, with mixed results. Three Americans left our table of seven to be replaced by...thin air. Oh well, more wine for us! We had one Senegalese student - Jen's language partner Pathe - at the table. She enjoyed saying "Il faut bien manger" (It is necessary to eat well) instead of just hearing it! It was fun to explore the building and chill on the roof after the official gathering ended. When I returned home, my family noticed that the spoon I had taken to the gathering had been switched up with another in the process of serving. Thus, I write this after having spent 45 minutes walking along one of the main roads carrying a spoon. We'll get the mess sorted out...inchallah (God willing). I'll be in Saint Louis until Sunday night - have a great weekend!

Antsy and Anxious

Back in the United States, I'm not exactly known for being a "calm" or "chill" person. I always have to be doing something - one reason I exercise so much is that it allows me to reflect while still DOING something. But in Senegal, ca ne marche pas (this doesn't work) with the more relaxed conception of time. I've had some great discussions with my far more relaxed friends Isaac and Alicia, and plan to continue the habit with my far more relaxed friends Katie, Rehaan, and Kelly back home (hi guys!). It's also been very nice to talk with Molly about how frustrating it can be for someone used to always being on the go to be told to SLOW DOWN. I'm succeeding, petit a petit, and now have a set of goals for each day, but without planning it down to the half hour. I still get everything that truly needs done accomplished without stress.

Another reason for the title of this post relates to academics. As I mentioned on Wednesday, after three months of listening to lectures and doing a few presentations, this last month is when everything else comes due. Most of my finals count for 50% of my grade - I have an oral exam, two written exams, an in-class group project (OK, so that won't be hard), and a final paper. None of these assignments by themselves are very difficult, but in the aggregate when I'm trying to savor my last taste of Africa for a long time, they sometimes loom over me.

Furthermore, while I'm excited to enjoy my last few weeks in Senegal, I'm also pumped to return to the United States. I miss my friends and family, and I've been informed by multiple sources that you don't realize the true power of your study abroad experience until you return. Yea reverse cultural adjustment!!! But I also have some nagging worries, since I'll be making some academic changes at the same time. Who will be my new cohort? How will I make time to see my friends when we're all being pulled in different directions? Where will I live next semester?! (OK, I have an email relating to this, but an actual piece of paper would be nice too). I've never been a "good enough" kind of person and seek out challenges if I feel myself growing too complacent. Time for some more personal growth...

PS The computer lab is supposed to be open from 12:00-10:00 pm on Saturday and the library from 12:00-4:00 pm. The former was closed. US Steven would've just cursed about how nothing works in this country. Senegalesteve is writing this post from the library library. The system does work, with modifications.
PPS When my host mother was driving me to the tailor yesterday, several taxis honked at her. She just scrunched up her face and said "Waaaaaahhhh (imagine baby crying). There's nowhere you need to get THAT quickly in Senegal!"

School Daze: Wednesday Morning Musings

I'm sitting in the university computer lab, trying to edit a French presentation outline I've been working on for a few days now. One thing that strikes me is how Senegal has rendered me "weak sauce" in terms of sleep habits: back home, I could easily go from 8:00 am to 1:30 am with a quick half-hour nap squeezed in between classes, meals, working out, etc. But here, I go to sleep at 11:00 pm and wake up sleep-deprived at 7:00 am. But it has gotten better, considering that I couldn't make it through a day without reposing for at least an hour. Perhaps the weather change has something to do with it? The temperatures have been falling pretty drastically since we returned from rural visits - my Wolof professor had to cancel class on Monday since as he couldn't stop shivering! In any case, I've been experiencing the joys of the French school system, wherein one submits the majority of one's graded work during the last few weeks of class. My French professor bumped up our final exams by a week and changed our oral presentations from "evaluation" to "final" grades, adding just a bit more stress. Yesterday, my history prof announced that our final paper would not be due on December 11, but on November 30. Here's the ridiculous thing: these assignments AREN'T that hard. Yes, I had to read the novel and prepare a 15-minute presentation in my non-native language, but I've had to do harder assignments in the States. My history paper will be 10 pages in English and I've already done the majority of my research and have a strong thesis. But after coasting for so many weeks, my work ethic is being a bit sluggish. At least I can give the presentation today and get a wonderful night's sleep before diving into my next project: reading a collection of critical essays about African-American literature. But that one's just for fun...
PS My host family and I are still getting along quite well - they bought me bon-bons on Monday while I was finishing my society and culture paper!

Back on Track

Yesterday was exhilarating and exhausting. I woke up at 7:00 am, and since Suffolk is doing construction on the soccer fields where I usually jog, I decided to jog along the Corniche. It was beautiful to watch the sun rising over the Atlantic with a few pirogues out in the water, especially after finishing “Old Man and the Sea.” Public Health was canceled (again), so I was able to check my Wolof homework and make some serious headway on my French presentation. I checked out a new fataya place with Isaac and Alicia – for the uninitiated, a fataya is basically meat and onions wrapped around fried dough. It reminds of a) my elementary-school bierocks and b) something you would see at a county fair but SO much better! After class and the obligatory web-surfing, I dropped my stuff off at home and went out to eat with my friend Molly at On the Run before heading downtown. While walking home, I noticed that campus was swarming with cream-colored butterflies – I asked the program director if this was an annual migration, but he said that he had never seen so many together in his life! The French Cultural Center and South Korean embassy were sponsoring a film festival and we saw “The Chanteuse du Pansori” about a tragic musical family. I returned at 11:00 pm, worked out a misunderstanding with the family which left me relieved, did some Pilates, and had a wonderful night’s sleep.

Dernière Partie

Day four began and continued to be a lazy day. After eating breakfast, I polished off “The Old Man and the Sea” (nothing like some tragic Hemingway to start the morning off right!). The only thing that was going on due to the national holiday for All Saint’s Day was the weekly market which attracted villagers from all over the delta region. This was actually a common theme throughout the week – several of our students lived outside of Samba Dia, and the school was getting ready to erect a “lunch hut” so that they could have a place to eat and rest while their classmates went home. Moreover, the fabric that the young ladies helped to dye is sold every Thursday and the profits are recycled back into the village. Jen was still in the clinic, and our host dad asked Jake and I to ask her some questions in English so that she didn’t have to translate while experiencing vertigo. Then, Jake and I set off with our host brothers, who needed to borrow a CD-rom for 8th grade mathematics. (Side note: the French version spelled it out as “cédérom”).

The market took up the village square and spilled off into a few alleyways, but was as lively as any other Senegalese market – vendors selling produce, fabric, playing cards, sunglasses out of little stalls. Jake bargained for some fabric and managed to reach a reasonable price, but one that seemed a bit high. Our host mother later explained that it had been brought from Dakar and the transport added at least 10% to everything sold in the village. Hannah and Tessah were able to have pants made by the tailor that day, but he was too swamped by the time we reached his atelier (workshop). Thus, we decided to meet Malang and some of his cooler friends for ataaya. As the week progressed, Malang became increasingly needy, calling Jake’s cell phone frequently to hang out. We headed home for lunch and just chilled out. Jen was feeling better and came out to sit on the veranda with us while we all shared stories about our families, our friends, etc. Hannah and Tessah went back into the village to purchase rice for our families, as a sign of thankfulness for all of the teranga (hospitality) we had experienced. While Tessah invited everyone to one of the many impromptu dance parties at her house, we just hung out with our host family and learned to play a game in the sand during a power outage (with generator!). Later, Jake and I helped our brothers with the mathematics CD-rom installation and exercises.

Friday morning came very fast, and we packed up into the bush bus after breakfast. Several of us were very sad to leave our wonderful host families to come back to noisy, polluted Dakar and schoolwork.

Dernière Partie

Day four began and continued to be a lazy day. After eating breakfast, I polished off “The Old Man and the Sea” (nothing like some tragic Hemingway to start the morning off right!). The only thing that was going on due to the national holiday for All Saint’s Day was the weekly market which attracted villagers from all over the delta region. This was actually a common theme throughout the week – several of our students lived outside of Samba Dia, and the school was getting ready to erect a “lunch hut” so that they could have a place to eat and rest while their classmates went home. Moreover, the fabric that the young ladies helped to dye is sold every Thursday and the profits are recycled back into the village. Jen was still in the clinic, and our host dad asked Jake and I to ask her some questions in English so that she didn’t have to translate while experiencing vertigo. Then, Jake and I set off with our host brothers, who needed to borrow a CD-rom for 8th grade mathematics. (Side note: the French version spelled it out as “cédérom”).

The market took up the village square and spilled off into a few alleyways, but was as lively as any other Senegalese market – vendors selling produce, fabric, playing cards, sunglasses out of little stalls. Jake bargained for some fabric and managed to reach a reasonable price, but one that seemed a bit high. Our host mother later explained that it had been brought from Dakar and the transport added at least 10% to everything sold in the village. Hannah and Tessah were able to have pants made by the tailor that day, but he was too swamped by the time we reached his atelier (workshop). Thus, we decided to meet Malang and some of his cooler friends for ataaya. As the week progressed, Malang became increasingly needy, calling Jake’s cell phone frequently to hang out. We headed home for lunch and just chilled out. Jen was feeling better and came out to sit on the veranda with us while we all shared stories about our families, our friends, etc. Hannah and Tessah went back into the village to purchase rice for our families, as a sign of thankfulness for all of the teranga (hospitality) we had experienced. While Tessah invited everyone to one of the many impromptu dance parties at her house, we just hung out with our host family and learned to play a game in the sand during a power outage (with generator!). Later, Jake and I helped our brothers with the mathematics CD-rom installation and exercises.

Friday morning came very fast, and we packed up into the bush bus after breakfast. Several of us were very sad to leave our wonderful host families to come back to noisy, polluted Dakar and schoolwork.

Troisième Partie

I woke up at 7:20 in order to get ready for my exciting day of interacting with local students. Full of hope, I merrily ate my bread with butter, which Jake thoughtfully suggested we place next to the hot water such that it was soft and creamy. When we arrived at school at 8:30, we saw a lot of students still sitting around in the courtyard. They turned out to be OUR students who had been waiting for computer lessons. After the principal turned the computers on, he proceeded to instruct the students how to open the Encarta Encyclopedia program. I should mention at this point that we had six very nice computers for 13 students, and there was a range of skill levels represented. The mice didn’t work very well on the wooden tabletops, which didn’t help the students without much computer experience. While in the US the teacher might have been encouraged to gently aid the student, the principal was rather brusque and didn’t seem to have patience with a few that just hadn’t mastered the unique coordination that comes with working on a computer for awhile. Jake took charge as usual and was in the middle of teaching them how to open a file when the power went out – quelle surprise! As we waited, we asked the students in Wolof how many times they had used a computer – responses ranged from months to never. To pass the time, we played a game in which the student gave a Wolof word, we guessed the French meaning and gave the English denotation.

At the end of class, the principal returned and thanked us for our help. Since the power was out, we couldn’t teach more computer classes, and since the school was on the French system, no classes were held on Wednesday afternoons. To boot, Thursday was All Saint’s Day and the whole village shut down save for the weekly market and we left Friday after breakfast. We exchanged contact information and wandered into town, wondering how to pass the time in Samba Dia. Tessah had came to school with her sister, so we just walked around for awhile before adjourning to the clinic for discussion and lunch. Evidently, the women didn’t require their help for much. Jake made ataaya for us after lunch and we just chilled some more. Hannah came by and we went off to explore a little clearing wherein we found several cute donkeys.

That night, we were trying to figure out a way to celebrate Halloween in Samba Dia after dinner. Tessah, Amelia, Hannah, Jake, and I were on the way to the village when we saw Jen riding in the back of a horsecart with her host mom to the clinic – never a good sign! She assured us that she was not in imminent danger and just needed some rest in a room with a fan. Still, the fête must go on and we bought some mango-flavored candies at a boutique before purchasing Fanta, Coca-Cola, and beer at a liquor store named (in the I-couldn’t-make-this-up category) “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary.” We sat under a little hut for awhile talking about holiday traditions and favorite TV shows. I was truly tired that night and was looking forward to making the most of my last day in Samba Dia.

Les visites rurales Deuxieme Partie

Day 2 for me began at 9:00 am when I went to the little hut outside the house where we took our meals. There was a man waiting for me there who asked me how I was doing, if I had eaten and slept well, etc. Then he explained to me that once Jake was up, we should go to the school and start working on our project before disappearing into the house. Shrouded in the haze of sleep, I had an epiphany while buttering my bread – this was our coordinator/host father! We had a purpose! After breakfast, I finished “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” and was left feeling like I needed to do some serious reflection/philosophical diagramming to understand the novel. One of host brothers came over and said, “It’s time. We’re going to school.” Like I said – we may not have had a clue what was going on, but someone obviously did!
Upon arriving at the school, which had been proudly built by USAID, we were ushered into the principal’s office. He explained that we were to install Encarta Encyclopedia 2007 on the school computers, then move on to some light programming. I am quite capable at many things, one of which is NOT technology. However, I perked up at the mention of possibility of helping with an English or science class. We set to work on the new computers, and the installation process went rather smoothly once we got the password to the administrative identity from the IT guy/secretary (watch for his return). Returning home for lunch, we ate delicious ceebu yapp (rice, meat, and legumes) and drank ataaya (tea). Making ataaya is a ritual, so specific that the Wolof language has a separate verb simply to refer to this one action. One pours some tea into a glass, which one then hoists before a quick turn of the wrist pours the ataaya into a second glass. Repeat until foamy. While no more tea leaves are added to the kettle, spoonfuls of sugar are, such that by the third round you’re basically drinking sugar. We were supposed to return at 3:00, and arrived at 3:40 pm to see the principal hanging out with some friends just outside of the office. Once we got the installation routine set, we explored the playlists for jazz, classical, and rock music. When the IT guy came in to check on us, he just sat down, grooved out to our music, and rolled a cigarette. After finishing around 5:00, we were led on a tour of the school by the principal. He asked us to come in the next day at 8:00 to teach computer class, making sure to explain that if we showed up at 8:30 no one would really care. On the way home, we ran into Tessah, Amelia, and Jen, who had indeed gotten off in the right village and had just been placed with a slightly-out-of-the-loop host mother. Amelia, Jake, and I met Malang at the boutique and went off to visit his family. He has a lot of siblings, a very nice mother, and a blind father who is a Koranic teacher. It wouldn’t have been a truly Senegalese evening if the power hadn’t gone out, and we walked home in the dark with Malang. Twenty minutes later, everything sprung back to life and we sat down to dinner after refreshing bucket showers. Our host mother asked Jake if we wanted forks to eat the spaghetti with, to which he replied “No” before looking across the table to see if I wanted one. I came here for cultural immersion, right? “Cultural immersion” amounted to my host mother feeling offended that I wasn’t eating a lot of her spaghetti because I couldn’t master the art of twirling the noodles around pieces of bread. Tired from the day, I dozed off as soon as I hit the mattress.

Les visites rurales: Première Partie

I was very excited during the days leading up to rural visits, but also a bit cautious. I was at the stage where if I carefully budgeted my money, I could have taken a bit with me and not have had to leave gobs of cash just sitting in my armoire all week. Thus, I found myself on Sunday with $1 in CFA to my name, having economized my way through a beach party on Friday night – Saturday morning. Luckily, Senegal is a developing nation and things are quite cheap here. I was able to buy several little goodies for my future host family in Samba Dia with a little left over (aka $0.30). On Monday, I was double-checking that I had packed correctly when I saw one of the maids come out. I asked her if there happened to be any left-over bread from dinner last night, being careful to add that if it would be a problem, she didn’t need to bother. Five minutes later, my very angry host mother appeared at my door and asked me what would make me think to ask for bread at 6:30 in the morning. I didn’t fight back, but when the maid asked if I was going to eat the bread, I just brushed past her to the door with an “Au revoir!” Luckily, I had stockpiled some crackers for just such an occasion and had a decent breakfast nonetheless. I had let her know I was leaving a little earlier in the morning, so was a bit surprised. At school, I turned on the mooching skills and got some pieces of baguette (thanks Jen!) and learned that most of the other host families sent someone out to buy bread for the family a little earlier than usual. My friend Sally is living with my host mom’s BFF, and has concluded that she could never be a Senegalese woman as she is not “complicated” enough.

After waiting 45 minutes for some stragglers (one repeat offender in particular), we headed out of Dakar at 8:00 am only to run into morning traffic. It didn’t help that due to our strange itinerary, we had to go to Thies to pick up a coordinator for the Meouane group, drop the group off at Meouane, backtrack to Thies, and THEN head to the destination for the other three groups. Once we arrived in Samba Dia, the housing situation was worked out in a “first-come, first-served basis” – reminiscent of the orphan train tales I used to read in elementary school. I was surprised to learn that Jake and I would be sharing a host family, and very excited to learn that we would be living at the health clinic which serves a population of 9,000. Upon exiting the bus, we were greeted by our host mother who showed us our room off to the side of the clinic. My guess is that it’s the Senegalese equivalent of the Ronald McDonald House, which would make sense if you needed to travel several miles with your ill friend/family member. We ate delicious ceebu jen (they should probably just add it to the Senegalese flag), and then sat around for awhile. For you see, dear reader, while we were informed that we there were things to do in Samba Dia, no one had yet told us where they were or at what time to do them. After chilling, Jake and I walked around the village, at which point I realized that Jake is far better at Wolof greetings than I am. We met a guy at a shop named Malang, who was studying for his baccalaureate in languages (English, French, Portuguese, Wolof, Mandinka, etc.). Having seen where Amelia disembarked, we visited her house and met her host mother, who walked back to the clinic with us. About 15 minutes after we arrived, Tessah showed up, saying her host mother had suggested she go to the clinic as well. Hannah wasn’t far behind. I for one was relieved to discover that someone knew what was going on! We chatted for awhile before someone broke the news that our coordinator wouldn’t be back for our little orientation meeting that night, so we decided to explore a path which led to a beautiful clearing with trees. Upon our return, I showered and read a bit of “A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” – so thankful I didn’t go to Catholic school in turn-of-the-century Ireland!!! Dinner was an amazing plate of French fries, grilled fish, and onion sauce, and our host mother continued with her refrain of “Lekkal! Lekkal bu baax!” “Eat! Eat well!” Stuffed, we headed to our room and talked for a bit before falling asleep around 10. Stay tuned...

The Silence Breaks

Note: I wrote this post before going on rural visits (October 29-November 2), but the power went out before I was able to do so. Yay development! More substantial entries to follow soon.

I just noticed that I hadn’t posted for a few weeks – whoops! However, this is not in itself wholly unfortunate, for it is partially the result of my integration into life in Senegal. My family and I haven’t had any big issues for awhile, except laundry. I NEVER expected this to be such a vibrant conversational topic, but I have learned the hard way to not bring white things to Africa. When my host mother asked me to get grey socks instead of white ones for running as they were quickly turning brown, I treated it as a reasonable request and bought some from the market. OK, she actually bought them at the market, but I paid for them and went back to said market by myself later so I could get the “cultural experience” of being hounded to purchase cheap American-made goods. But now she’s moved on to my shower towel, and actually suggested that I was not washing myself well enough (because of course it couldn’t be that we live on a dusty road and one of the maid’s daily duties is to sweep the dirt in front of the house). She bought me a shower mitt, which resembles something I saw years ago during a late night infomercial for pet grooming products. I’ve been using for a few days now and have been pronounced “bien frotté” (well-brushed), but the towel remains dirty. Her latest solution is that I should just buy another one – I think I’ll just stick to my blue beach towel from now on. But I actually do appreciate all that my host family does for me. We woke up this morning to no running water, yet they still managed to make a delicious macaroni and cheese lunch with a bit of steak on the side. Plus, my friends (especially Jen) and sometimes even their immediate family members have derived hours of laughter from my mitt.

Lack of running water might be a serious issue next week during rural visits. I’m excited about my group and the tasks we’ll be doing. Part of me wishes I were going with a Peace Corps volunteer to see if it’s something I would be interested in, but I’m also glad to have the chance to see how several different organizations work together in a community. I’ll be back on Friday with tons of journal entries (in Wolof, no less)!