Final blog post

Well, I guess this is as good a time as any other to write my final blog post. I just heard some distressing news from Senegal (via Germany). Regina facebooked me today to tell me that our Maman from Dakar kicked Marie-Louise, the maid, and Florinda, her daughter, out of the house. Apparently Florinda wasn't doing well enough in school for Maman to keep supporting them, so she cut them off. From what Regina told me, Maman told ML that she has to go back to her village in Casamance and she won't even let them stay in Dakar, but ML has a job in Rufisque, a suburb of Dakar, which Maman apparently doesn't know about.
This is just kind of a resurfacing of all the problems and emotions I went through while in my homestay in Dakar: the outrage, the confusion, and the feelings of helplessness. I would love to do something, especially for Florinda since she now has no means of going to school. Without education, there is no way she can be anything other than a maid when she's older, especially since her French is sub-par. Regina and I are going to try to work something out in terms of sending money to Florinda, probably through an NGO, since ML doesn't have an address (at least one that isn't also her employers' address). I wish I could be in Senegal to give Florinda and ML hugs, but at the same time I'm very relieved that I don't have to deal with this firsthand. I think I would have a very hard time living with Maman after this.
Anyway, other than that, life is moving along as always. I'm in Iowa for the summer doing anthropological research, and missing certain parts of Senegal while not missing others. I definitely don't miss pit toilets. It's been hot enough the last couple of days that I've been taking cold showers, which has made me oddly nostalgic for the days of village bucket showers! Other than minor things, I haven't experienced too much culture shock. The most culture shock I had was going from the village to Dakar, where everything seemed shiny and expensive and there was actually internet and non-Senegalese food! Nonetheless, I feel like I've been talking nonstop about the good and bad parts of Senegal to anyone who will listen, and am tentatively planning an ataaya date with Maddie, who was in Senegal the fall before me. I can't wait to have some bissap jam and clumsily make tea.
Ba beneen yoon!!! Heather

Internship, a typical day, and an atypical surprise!

April 24^th, 2011

Just before sitting down to write a new blog post, I found an egg on my bed, on top of the mosquito net, with no idea how it got there. I asked my sister Mounasse about it and she told me that the chicken sometimes comes into the rooms and lays eggs there! Definitely an Easter surprise if ever there was one. In any case, we saved the egg and I thankfully didn’t sit on it or anything.

Time is really flying by, and I can hardly believe that I only have a week left in Potou, and then a week in Dakar after that. It’s going to be really difficult to say goodbye to my family, and already they are telling me that they’re going to miss me when I leave. I don’t want to think about that yet!! I’ve really grown close with my sisters. In addition, my communication skills have improved a whole lot since being here. My Wolof, though far from fluent, is passable, and I can usually get across what I want to say, and I can sometimes even follow conversations that my family members have between each other.

My internship is still unfortunately far from perfect. I feel like one of the major problems for me is lack of communication, and the fact that sometimes the people in positions of responsibility are not responsible at all. For example, my supervisor the principal, while a nice guy, doesn’t really have any idea what’s going on in the school, and doesn’t really tell me anything. The first Monday back from vacation, I came to school at 8 as always, and the principal told me I would be in M. Diallo’s class that day. Until that point I had been mostly just observing in classes and had taught once or twice. I get to class and sit down at a desk, thinking I will be just observing. Five minutes pass and M. Diallo isn’t there yet, and then it hits me: M. Diallo isn’t coming. I have to teach this class for two hours. I hadn’t made a lesson plan or anything, but fortunately I had some grammar review planned that I had done with the informal classes during the vacation. The class went well, despite my total lack of planning, but I was extremely frustrated with the principal afterwards.

Lack of communication seems to be a theme that has plagued my internship. I’ve had the most success communicating directly with the teachers themselves, but even then I sometimes come to class not sure if I will be just observing and occasionally helping or having the whole class to myself. For the past two weeks I’ve been trying to organize a computer training for the teachers of the primary school, and although the teachers seem to be supportive, it’s been very difficult to organize. We had it all set in place that I would conduct a training session today from 9-11 AM, so I woke up early, had breakfast, and made it to the primary school by 8:55. No one was there yet, so I waited (I’ve learned that I need to bring a book with me everywhere I go). No one showed up. I waited until 9:30 before calling the director of the primary school, who told me that the teachers were too tired from another seminar and decided not to come to the training today. However, no one thought to call me and tell me this news. It’s these organizational things that have been really frustrating, and I feel like I am often in the dark.

In addition, one of my internship frustrations has been the way that English is taught in the schools. It’s a very structured approach, and barely requires any effort or creativity on the part of the teacher. Every lesson is divided into Pre-Reading (vocabulary), While Reading (comprehension questions) and Post-Reading (grammar exercises, usually). The approach seems very canned and I don’t think it facilitates students learning very well. I know half the class probably can’t follow the lesson, but I also feel pressure from the teachers to follow this pedagogical method. In any case, there is no creativity involved. During the informal classes, I asked the students to write a story and they had a hard time stringing sentences together. One student literally paraphrased a passage from the book. I really wish that I could do more fun things with my classes, but the educational system is so structured that I don’t think the students would even understand what I was trying to do. I’m really glad that I got at least a little chance to do that with my informal classes, though. The students will remember more if they are having fun while learning, in my opinion. I taught them Rock, Paper, Scissors, and there are still students who come up to me and play it.

On a different tangent, let me describe one of my typical days in Potou:

7 AM: I wake up to my alarm or to a rooster crowing. It’s already light out, so I hop out of bed, use the pit toilet, wash my face and hands, and get dressed. Even though I have just rolled out of bed, I make sure to greet everyone I see, since it’s considered rude not to. This usually consists of “Bonjour!! Nelaw nga bu baax?” “Waaw! Nelaw naa bu baax!” (Did you sleep well? Yes, I slept very well!).

7:20-7:30 AM: Eat breakfast, which is café au lait (Nescafe, powdered milk, and sugar) and a huge piece of bread (we’re talking half a long baguette) with butter. The first few weeks I had a lot of trouble eating it all, but now I can scarf it down in five minutes flat…I think my stomach is expanding.

7:30-8 AM: Walk to school, either through the market (lots of people) or through the fields (less people, and better if I am running late).

8 AM- noon: Teach or help out in the classes

12:30 PM: Return home for my lunch break. Usually my sisters have already started making lunch, but sometimes we have to go to the boutique for miscellaneous items.

1-3: Help out cooking lunch, which is usually ceeb u weex (fish, sauce, vegetables, rice) or ceeb u xonq (same thing, but with tomato sauce). Alternately, I can drift in and out of the kitchen, and sometimes I will take this time to nap, lesson plan, or just hang out with my sisters.

Lunch: Anywhere from 2-4, we eat lunch. We have a communal bowl and I have been trying to learn to eat with my hands the way they do. There is a special technique to making a little ball of rice with your hands and shoveling it into your mouth without dropping any, which I am in the process of mastering. A few weeks ago I told my sisters I wanted to eat with them, and so now I always eat lunch and dinner with them, squeezed around a communal bowl with at least 10 other people! Even though it's crowded, I much prefer it to awkwardly eating alone with my father. I always get more than enough to eat, and sometimes my sisters will even go as far as to put food on my spoon while I am chewing.

3:30: Return to school

4-6: Afternoon class, sometimes with a break at 5 for prayer, but sometimes not (I’m not sure why this isn’t consistent).

6: Return home, rest a little bit, and take a shower if I didn’t take one during my lunch break. One thing that’s very different than the US is that the preferred shower time is during the afternoon, since the water is warmer. Also, all my sisters change clothes right after their shower, so they look snazzy at night, then they sleep in their clothes, and don’t change them again until their shower the next day. I always feel a little weird in the morning when I am wearing fresh clothes and they are all in their clothes from the night before! Also this is the time when I sometimes run errands with my sisters: to the boutique, to the mill, etc.

7 PM: Help with dinner, which is always delicious and doesn’t get boring. Sometimes we have savory things and sometimes we have sweet things, like laax or fonde, both of which are millet-based. Usually any dinner preparation involved a lot of pounding with a mortar and pestle and chopping vegetables, and these tasks are usually easy enough to be entrusted to me.

9 PM: Dinner! Again, usually around a communal bowl with the exception of a few dishes like fattaya, which are easier to serve individually.

9:30 PM: Hang out with my sisters and wait for someone to make attaaya, though usually I am pretty tired so I end up dozing off.

11 PM: Usually I will wait until I have had my first glass of attaaya before excusing myself to go to bed, while my sisters are still up.

11:30 PM: Use the internet if I have it, get ready for bed, and journal. I’m so proud of myself that I’ve been journaling every day, and now it would be weird to go to bed without it. I’m almost out of pages in my journal!

Midnight: Crawl into my mosquito net and go to sleep, only to start the whole thing over again the next day!

That’s all for now! It’s really hard to believe that I only have two weeks (now less!) left in Senegal.

Edited to add: This morning the chicken snuck into my room twice in the space of ten minutes, looking for its egg! It’s a reminder that I should probably keep my door firmly shut. Sneaky chicken.

An update from Potou!! Finally!

April 3^rd, 2011

Well, it’s been way too long since I’ve written a blog entry, but now I actually have a usable internet connection, so I figured I should write an update. I’m in the village of Potou, near the larger town of Louga in the northwest of Senegal. My internship here is with the CEM, which is the equivalent of a middle school, except that many students are as old as 18.

I was really nervous to come here and start my internship, especially given that I didn’t have the best experience with my family in Dakar, but my family here has been really great, on the whole. I have more siblings than I can count, and I’m not really sure which child belongs to whom since there are always a bunch of people running around. This makes it a little hard for me, as an introvert, because it’s very difficult for me to find any time to be alone. I have a whole lot of sisters, and they always have friends over, so I like hanging out with them. I’ve also been helping a lot with chores around the house, especially cooking. I want to learn how to cook all the yummy Senegalese dishes!

The food here is really wonderful, and I don’t think there has been one dish that I haven’t liked. Tonight we are having fattayas, which is one of my favorites: it’s sort of like a samosa with different spices, and you dip it in an onion sauce, which is delicious. Speaking of food, I am constantly being encouraged to eat, and my family doesn’t believe me when I say that I’m full. Every meal, I have to insist “Suur naa, neex na, bari na! Lekk naa ba suur!!!” which means, “I’m full, it was good and a lot! I ate until I was full.” It’s a little exhausting, though, and I know that I am probably gaining a lot of weight (which is what my family wants). They told me that when I go back to Dakar, they will be proud of me because I’ve gained weight, which is exactly the opposite of what Americans want, usually. One odd thing about meals, though, is that often I eat lunch or dinner with just my father, which is a little uncomfortable since it’s a lot more formal than eating with my sisters, and he always tells me “Arame…añal.” Or “Arame…reeral.” Arame is my Senegalese name here, and añal and reeral mean, respectively, “eat lunch!” and “eat dinner!” I have to respond “Maangiy añ!” or “Maangiy reer!”: “I’m eating!!” We usually have a communal bowl, instead of indvidual plates like in Dakar, but that makes it a lot easier for my parents or my sisters to push food towards my side. Anyway, I much prefer eating with my sisters but sometimes they tell me that I have to eat with my father. Here, eating alone is a sign of respect, so I guess eating with my father is also a sign of respect, but it’s still a little awkward sometimes.

Another food-related update: we make attaaya (Senegalese tea), at least once, usually twice and sometimes three times a day. I love attaaya and we barely made it at all in Dakar, but it has so much sugar that I’m sure I’m getting some cavities. Also, the order that the attaaya is served in also seems to have to do with respect. My parents are always served first, then me, since I am a guest, and then my siblings, usually the older ones first. The person making the tea always drinks last. I’ve tried to make it once or twice but I always end up spilling most of the tea, since you have to pour it from a height of about a foot in order to get a good foam on the top, and I’m not very good at pouring.

My internship here hasn’t been great, mostly because there is not much for me to do. My boss, the principal, doesn’t really have his act together, and he doesn’t really know what’s going on. The first week of my internship went pretty well. I sat in on some English classes and was able to teach a little bit. It’s really difficult to teach English to non-native speakers, and the level of the students is very low. I feel like something is not right with the way that English is being taught here, because I worked with students who had been studying for three years and they had trouble forming sentences. One thing that I have noticed is that there is not much review of concepts, and so students are being introduced to complicated grammar structures when they don’t even know the basics. My students couldn’t name all the colors in English, and they had trouble with ABCs and counting.

So, the first week went pretty well, but at the end of it, my boss told me that the next week we would start a two week long vacation because of the Independence Day holidays. I was very clear with him that since I am only here for six weeks, I wanted to keep busy even when everyone else is on vacation, but he basically just told me that there is nothing to do, and I should have a nice vacation. This really frustrated me, and I tried to figure out something that I could do at the primary school, but they basically told me the same thing. On the phone, they had said that there would be work for me to do, but then when I went there to check it out, they basically told me the same thing, have a nice vacation. Culturally, I think it’s more acceptable to say yes even when there is no work for me to do. I was given the key to the office to go and “work” but no one told me what work I should do!

Anyway, the first couple of days of the break were nice, but I honestly had nothing to do at the office. There isn’t a library and there is only one computer, so I couldn’t really help there. However, with the help of Waly, our MSID staff member, and my host father, we were able to organize informal English lessons during the break. They are at my house, and we have been getting together for two hours every weekday afternoon. I like this a lot better than teaching lessons at school, when I feel like there is a very rigid structure to follow and there are so many students in each class that I don’t really know what to do with them. However, in the informal lessons, there have been only five to nine students who have shown up, so we are more able to play games without everything getting out of hand. Even nine students is a lot to control when you are trying to play a game like “Simon says.” They like playing Simon Says a lot, but they have a lot of energy!!

On Friday, I was really proud of my students because I think they started to grasp a grammar concept that had shown up on their exam, but that they had not done well on. I made them a chart for declarative, interrogative, and negative statements in the past and present tenses, and I told them that literally, you can just follow the chart when you are trying to form a sentence. Charts and tables help me a lot, and they were especially helpful for Wolof, so I thought they might like the visual help, whereas earlier they just had to memorize. Honestly, I don’t think the system of teaching English is super great, and the book, while geared towards Senegalese students, seems not to take certain things into account. For example, the students were learning the English words for badminton and hockey, when they had no idea how these sports were even played.

Another thing that has been really difficult for me here is how different the concept of ownership is, and how I do have a lot more money than anyone here. Last week, I lent my brothers my iPod, thinking that it was a nice gesture, but since then they haven’t stopped asking me for it. While I like my family on the whole, many of them have been subtly or not-so-subtly implying that when I leave, I should give them the iPod, because I have enough money to buy another one back in the US. The thing is, it’s true that I don’t really need an iPod, and I was actually thinking that it might be nice to give it to my family when I leave. However, the fact of them asking for it made me immediately not want to. I guess it’s a cultural difference: here, if you want something you make it known, while in the US, you keep your mouth shut. Also, giving after being asked for something feels more like an obligation rather than a real gift.

On the subject of ownership, things here are definitely shared more, which can be a hard thing for toubabs to deal with. For example, my sister Mounasse asked me to borrow my shoes to go to the market. After that, my shoes sort of became public property, and I have seen at least half the women in my family wearing them. If one person has something, it belongs to everyone in the family. I’m struggling with my own cultural background, too, which tells me, “Those shoes are mine!” even if it is just a $2 pair of shoes that I will probably end up giving to the family anyway. One interesting insight: in the US, it seems like one of the first words children learn is “mine” or “no,” whereas here, it seems to be “mai ma,” which means “give me” or “offer to me.”

Finally, I’ll try to give you a little portrait of my family, as best as I can. There’s my father Saer and mother Awa, who I would guess are in their 50s. My father speaks French pretty fluently, but my mother barely at all. I have a whole lot of siblings, and though they aren’t all children of my parents, it’s easier for me to think of it that way. In fact, it’s very possible that they youngest ones are the children of the oldest ones. There’s Fa-Cisse, who is 4 and is very “reew,” or impolite, according to everyone in the family. She is a little rambunctious and whenever you have food, she will drop everything she’s doing and demand “mai ma!” Baymoor is probably 8, and though he doesn’t speak any French, he always gives me a high five when I come home and I like to act a little silly with him. He’s a little shy, though. Nogoye is about 11 and is already so much more competent than I am in everything concerning housework. I often go with her to the market and we went once to the mill to grind millet, so she has been able to show me the ropes a little bit. Sokhna is probably 12 or 13, and she loves to dance. We have fun dancing the youza together and generally being silly. Arame is my homonym (we are both named Arame Gueye), is 14 or 15, and has been such a big help to me here. She and Mounasse (17) have helped me feel more at home here. Arame also is kind of my mother sometimes, in that she always makes me eat a lot, and she is always trying to make sure that I am comfortable. Mounasse, or Maimouna, also helps me out a lot, and we usually go the market together every morning. She has a lot of copains (boyfriends) and is trying to find me a Senegalese copain, despite my pleas that I’m not looking for one. Kapy is also 17, and he always makes a lot of attaaya. Arame, Mounasse and Kapy have also been coming to my English lessons! Mami is probably 20, doesn’t speak a lot of French, and often does a lot of the housework, but she is really willing to help me out, too. She jokes that I am “Baby Arame,” as opposed to my sister, the other Arame. My brother Boss is 20 as well, but I don’t feel as comfortable around him, since I feel like our only interactions consist of him asking me to give him things, or him demanding me to dance. A side note: everyone here thinks that it’s HILARIOUS when I dance, no matter what it is. I nearly caused a riot in one of my classes because they were begging me to dance the youza. Anyway, Faou is another one of my sisters, and she is probably about 22. She speaks almost no French so we have a lot of trouble communicating, but she has been really nice to me and makes sure that I speak to all of her relatives on the phone (which is another ordeal all together! I can barely speak in French on the phone, much less Wolof). I don’t know how old Misse is, but she is definitely older than Faou and may be Fa-Cisse’s mother (not sure on that). She is also usually nice to me, but always tell me that I have a lot of money, and that I need to send her money or things when I get back to the US, which makes me feel a little uncomfortable. Thiambou is another one of my siblings as well, though she is only here for the vacation. She is a teacher in Podor, in the north of Senegal, and she is the one who lent me the Internet key. She is quite loud and bossy but in a likeable way, and she has also helped me by explaining things to me, even if it’s something I already know about. In addition to all of these people, there are always others hanging around! So it’s a lot of people to know and greet every day. In Senegal, and especially in villages, if you pass someone you know on the street without greeting them, it’s considered an insult. This has been quite hard since I’ve met so many people in the last two weeks and have trouble keeping straight who I know and who I don’t know.

That’s all for now! I’ll try to write more but it’s hard to find time alone to use my computer. In any case, I’ve been keeping a pen and paper journal so maybe I can post some retroactive updates once I’m back in Dakar.

Project Jom

Hey everyone!
Last time I posted about the well pump project that we are starting--here are more details. The website is up and running, and we are ready to accept donations.
The website address is: www.wix.com/projectjom/warc

We visited a small village in rural Senegal called Dassilamé Sérère.  This village is home to a community garden run by a small group of incredibly hard-working women.  Each woman has her own garden plot, in which she cultivates onions, tomatoes, eggplant, carrots, okra, etc. year-round.  For some women, these small gardens are the only means of earning a living for their families.  In order to water their crops, the women have to haul countless buckets of water from a well far outside the limits of the garden.  We attempted to haul the water from the well to the garden, and found it to be an arduous task.

Noticing the need for an efficient system to transport the water to the gardens, we decided to start an initiative to raise money for a water pump.  The estimated cost of the pump, installation, and transport is $4,000 USD.  With your help, we believe we can raise this amount to help the women of Dassilamé Sérère become more self-sufficient and further advance their community organization.  Please consider donating to this incredibly worthy cause that we have witnessed first-hand. 

Thank you for your consideration!

Again, the address is www.wix.com/projectjom/warc.

I'll post a longer blog entry later! Heather

Dundu Afrikan yi

February 28, 2011

Oh dear…it’s been an exorbitantly long time since I last wrote a blog post, but at least it’s still February! (though only barely, I admit) Well, in the interim, I have been to Toubacouta (a village several hours south of Dakar), and have nearly finished with classes. Toubacouta was really wonderful: it’s primarily a tourist village, so we had quite ritzy accommodations. Seven out of the ten of us got sick at once point or another, though, which was unfortunate. While we weren’t sick, though, we were able to attend many traditional dance ceremonies, a traditional wrestling ceremony (la lutte), and learn a lot about development in a rural area. One of the site visits that most affected us was the visit to a community garden in the village of Dassilamé Sérère, which has a gardening coop run almost exclusively by women. It kind of seems like the men just sit back and relax while the women spend all their time in the fields. Anyway, Gabe had the idea to start a project to fund a pump for their well: right now they have to haul all the water up by hand, and a pump would make their work a whole lot easier. A couple of us are really spearheading this project, and we intend to set up a website in the next couple of weeks where we can take donations to fund our well pump project. I’ve sort of fallen into place as the treasurer for this project, and I will definitely post a link once we get our website up and running. In the meantime, please think about if you would be willing to donate to fund a well for these women.

It’s been really hard for us to believe that we have less than two weeks of classes! Most of us are going to St. Louis for spring break, which is in the north of Senegal (it’s the old colonial capital). We’ll spend 4 nights (I think) in St. Louis and then head back down south to the deserts of Lompoul, where hopefully we can do some roughin’ it and riding camels, possibly. After that, I will be headed to my internship! I’m going to be in a little village of about 4,000 people called Leona, which is about an hour south of St. Louis, I think. I’ll be teaching in the equivalent of a middle school, and most likely I’ll be working with 12 and 13 year olds. I’ll be teaching English and maybe another social science topic, as well as doing administrative duties. I might also get a chance to work in the primary school! I can’t tell you how excited I am, despite going to a tiny village where I will probably eat fish for three meals a day (ceeb u jen, here I come!). Speaking of food: I know this is a sidenote, but today the WARC cafeteria served curry (Indian-style except for the beef), and it was delicious. Not very Senegalese, but just what I’ve been craving. Normally I can’t eat the large portions that they give us, but today I ate the whole darn thing, and it only took about an hour.

This morning, as part of our International Development class, we visited the Liberté 6 barracks. Normally, I’m not the biggest fan of my International Development class, but today was easily the best day we’ve had yet. The strange thing is, Liberté 6 is a very well off neighborhood, but there are these slums right in the middle of it. ENDA Tiers-Monde, which is a local NGO, funded people to move from more established poor areas to Liberté 6, but the effect is very chilling: poverty in the midst of bourgeoisie. ENDA sponsored them and built them schools and everything, but the schoolrooms aren’t even used because there are no teachers. It was strange to see little chairs and desks in perfect condition but with a thick layer of dust and cobwebs because they were so rarely used. About halfway through our tour of the barracks, a group of children ran up to us, as they did in Toubacouta. In many parts of Dakar, being approached by a mob of children means that they are usually asking for money, but in the barracks it was more similar to the village. They are not as accustomed to seeing white people, and thus immediately run up to you and hold your hand (or stroke your hair, or laugh at your moles, etc.). The minute we brought out our cameras they went crazy and wanted pictures taken left and right; very different to many parts of the city where people don’t want you taking pictures, or want you to pay for them.

It was really amazing to see people living in such squalid poverty, especially when contrasted with just across the street where there were modern-looking apartments. Everyone was really making do, though, and they were very proud to show us their houses, which were honestly no more than shacks. It’s also astounding to realize that while this NGO was perhaps helping them by moving them out of the banlieue, they either ran out of money or left before they could really implement the programs, like the school, that they had planned for, and so constructed a school that no one uses. It was quite a contrast from when we visited the Ecole de la Rue (street school). Even though the Ecole de la Rue started off with almost no money, they are really making a go of it by getting university students to volunteer as teachers. The whole thing is funded by one man’s profit from his farm, and he has invested so much into this school that it’s become more sustainable. By no means is it a perfect system, but they are able to send students from the street school into public school, and it seems like a more effective way of getting them out of poverty. Liberté 6 just seemed like an unfinished project, where the conditions hadn’t really improved much and, while there were some necessary infrastructures that had been put in place, ENDA hadn’t done enough to sustainably implement their programs.

On a completely different note, this weekend Regina and I paid a visit to Marché Sandaga where we bought (fake) hair to put in tresses. I think my host sister is going to do it tomorrow…it should be interesting and I will definitely post pictures. I can’t deny I’m a bit nervous, especially for the fact that I won’t be able to wash my hair as long as I keep it in. Regina is also blonde, and we probably bought all the fake blonde hair that is sold in Dakar…there’s not exactly a high demand for it. I also bought some more fabric this weekend at the Foire Internationale de Dakar! Hundreds of merchants came from a bunch of different African countries, and I bought some absolutely beautiful fabric from Benin. Still not sure what exactly I’ll have made…maybe another taille baisse, but maybe I’d like to have clothes that are a little more Western-style, I don’t know.

The Foire, which we visited on Saturday, was also a bit of a study in contrasts. When we first walked in, it literally felt like some sort of strange expo in the States, like a Homes and Gardens show. There were a lot of booths selling very different things: some were selling home furnishings, some were NGOs, and we talked to one man about aquaculture. There almost didn’t seem to be anything linking them together, besides a common interest in Senegal. There was also a complete other pavilion where merchants were just selling things from their home countries, which was quite cool. You can get a lot of the same stuff at Marché Sandaga, but Sandaga is so overwhelming: at the Fair, there weren’t people constantly following you around and trying to get you to come to their stalls (though that did happen a bit, let’s be real, we are in Senegal).

Anyway, it’s probably getting close to dinnertime. There’s a coupure so that means no electricity for now, though we were really lucky to have it for nearly two days straight! It’s always funny to see who gets courant (electricity) and who doesn’t, and sometimes it’s not what you’d expect. Of course, neighborhoods where influential people live don’t often get power cuts, but on the flip side, wealthier neighborhoods like Mermoz get cut a lot more often than poor neighborhoods like Pikine. Why? Mermoz is a very calm neighborhood as well, so there aren’t going to be any riots in the street if there isn’t power. Apparently, in more turbulent, poverty-ridden quartiers, people will take to the streets and start burning tires in the case of a power cut. Speaking of power cuts, I keep thinking about something my host niece Florinda said the other day. We were walking back from buying beer for my host mom (they’re Catholic, so they sometimes like to faire la fête), and I asked Florinda about her birthday. First of all, she doesn’t know when her birthday is, only that it is two days after her mother’s wedding anniversary (how she knows when that is, I don’t know). I asked her about her last birthday and she told me that she prayed and prayed and prayed that there would be electricity for her birthday. Instead of praying for gifts, she prayed for courant. Something that we in the US take for granted so much is so important here, where we don’t have it all the time. Now that I think about it a bit more, though, it makes more sense to me. She can’t really expect to get many gifts for her birthday, so instead of praying for something she knows won’t be fulfilled, she prays for something that is up to chance, and it’s no one’s fault if she doesn’t get it (well, maybe Abdoulaye Wade’s [current president] fault).

OK, dinner is soon. I’ve been attempting to keep up with current events in Libya but have not been doing such a great job. No one needs worry that the unrest will spread to Senegal, though; I would be extremely shocked if the movements from the Middle East reached us. A couple of weeks ago I asked my host family what they thought of the situation in Egypt and they had no idea what I was talking about, though I think they’re more informed about Libya. All is pretty much safe and sound here, and though people are angry at Wade, as always, at the moment Senegal doesn’t have the willpower to take to the streets.

Kudos to you if you read through this whole post—it was quite longer than I expected. Pictures, as always, are on my Facebook, though I will try to put some up here soon. Also, in the vein of trying, I will try to be a more regular updater.

Ba beneen yoon!

A necessary update

February 6, 2011

It’s been way too long since I actually wrote a blog entry! Oh dear! Anyway, Dakar life has been really great so far, if extremely tiring. Every night when I go to bed, I’ve been falling asleep almost immediately, even if I’ve just been relaxing all day! At the moment, four of us are sitting in MyShop, which is a bizarre little extension of the US in Dakar: it’s a little convenience store, plus burgers, pizza, and ice cream, and American music constantly playing. A lot of toubabs hang out around here, and it’s near school, so it’s a convenient meeting place. Also there is free wifi, which is a great incentive! Yesterday Regina and I spent most of the day working on our schoolwork in restaurants, which went well until one VERY DRUNK Senegalese man kept harassing us (keep in mind this was at about three in the afternoon). It was really inappropriate and wouldn’t have happened if we had been Senegalese instead of white and blonde. On our walk home, we saw the cutest little lamb in the road, and someone had tied a baby’s bib on it. We stopped and started to take a picture, but a man just ran out of the nearby house and started shouting, “Il faut payer!” (You have to pay!) We were again really shocked at this and just kept walking instead of taking the picture. It’s very strange to be immediately judged just because we are toubabs, and to have people try to take advantage of us.

Mostly this week has just been a lot of getting more comfortable with Dakar and everything. On Friday, Megan and I took a walk around Mermoz, and ended up managing to get to Katie’s house in Liberté 2 (without a map and without getting lost!!) It was great to just hang out at her house in the afternoon when we don’t have class.

All of us have been spending a lot of time at the beach, which is really nice, as the weather has been wonderful lately (if a little chilly sometimes—all you Midwesterners can laugh at my wimpiness).

Oh, also I’ve been honing my bartering skills at markets and taxis, where most things are ridiculously overpriced and you really have to work to get the prices down. But it really does help if you have a Senegalese person with you when you are trying to negotiate a taxi, and they can get you a much better rate than you would normally be able to get. Taxis are everywhere! I would say almost half the cars are taxis, which are yellow and black and look like they have parts taken from at least four different cars.

Anyway, I am getting quite sleepy so I think I will leave it at that for now! But if I can I will post something in the next few days. Look at my facebook for pictures! Heather

Another post! I am in class but we are on a break!

January 28^th, 2011

Things seem to be settling in a little bit more since I last wrote, and it helps a lot that I am learning a lot of Wolof very quickly. We started classes on Monday, so this is the first weekend that is a real break for us, rather than just more fun activities. It’s Friday afternoon around 6, which is usually when we eat at home. The sun is still shining away here, though. It usually gets dark around 7:30, and when the sun goes down, it goes down fast. You don’t want to be caught in the dark alone. Today, we ended class around 2:30, after three full hours of Wolof. I feel like I am learning a lot of Wolof, but it’s all jumbled in my head and I can’t really form sentences. We’ve really only had three classes so far, but it goes so fast that sometimes I feel really lost. Today we learned what felt like every single verb we would ever need to use, but when I came home I still could barely understand anything that people were saying in Wolof. I was proud of myself for picking out the occasional word here and there, and I did learn the word for ironing. In theory, I can form simple sentences like “Maangiy jangi ba ci kanam,” (I am going to school so see you later!) but it really gets all jumbled. We’re also diving straight into grammar, which is completely different from French and English: instead of conjugating the verb based on tense, you conjugate the pronoun. So “laay” is first person present and “laa” is first person past (I think). Goodness gracious! Also, I had a little bit of a private linguistic anthropology moment in class today: to ask if someone has brothers or sisters, you literally ask “Do you have olders and youngers?” And you always specify older or younger siblings when you are talking about them. I thought that was pretty cool, and it also displayed the importance of age and the respect that comes with it in Senegalese and Wolof culture.

Today, we also went to the tailor! On Wednesday a whole group of us went to Marche HLM, which is the main fabric market. It was quite crazy and there were so many fabrics, African patterned and otherwise, to choose from. I ended up choosing an African printed fabric which is blue and cream colored and has stylized birds on it, and I could only get six meters of it, which is way more than enough to make an outfit. I also got a three piece packet of more Indian style fabric, which was pink and orange. Each of them were 4000 CFA, which is about $8. Today I went with Marie-Louise, one of our maids, to the tailor, where I paid 10000 CFA to have two outfits made. I think I got a taille baisse, which is like a two piece dress, and a shirt with pants, but I honestly have no idea what the tailor is going to make. I just pointed at some dresses in magazines that I liked and he flagged them. I’m going back on Wednesday to see what he comes up with, and I know it will be a surprise either way! With my limited French and Wolof, I sometimes feel really stupid. Also I had no idea what I wanted in terms of an outfit, but I’m sure I will like it when I see it.

Speaking of markets, yesterday Katie, Ian and I went to these Moroccan markets in downtown Dakar, near Marche Sandaga, which has a reputation for being one of the craziest markets. And let me tell you, it is quite insane. We were basically the only toubabs (white people) there, which made us such a target for people trying to sell us stuff, especially if we stood still. At one point the three of us had I think six or seven people trying to talk to us, which was quite overwhelming. After we escaped the craziness of Sandaga, we went back to the Moroccan markets, which were a bit calmer. I ended up buying a very interesting garment: at first glance, it looks like a dress, but you first wrap it around your chest, then swing it through your legs, and that comes around so you can wear it like a coat. And then you finish it off by tying a belt around your waist. So it’s like pants, but very loose fitting and more like a skirt actually. I really hope that I can wear it in the US, because although it’s probably not the same quality as a tailored piece, it’s very comfortable.

My family situation is also settling in, as is everything else. Funnily enough, I have talked more with the maids, who speak extremely limited French, than anyone else in the household. They are so nice and welcoming, and I especially like talking with Fatou, who speaks no French. Usually, we don’t really have actual conversation, but I try to practice my Wolof by reciting the days of the week or some equally mundane thing, like all the verbs that I have learned, or all the different body parts. She thinks it’s pretty funny, and I feel stupid when I can’t even understand the most basic sentences. But she is really great at helping me learn. It does make me uncomfortable how materially privileged I am compared to her and Marie-Louise though. This afternoon she asked me for the equivalent of 50 cents so that she could buy a phone card to call her mother. Of course I gave it to her, because unlike when people approach me on the street, I would have felt extremely selfish saying no. I hope a pattern of asking me for things doesn’t develop, because I would have a very hard time saying no. Though, I really should try to help out the maids as much as I can: even though I live in a comparatively well off family, the maids earn barely anything and they work all the time, I don’t think they ever get time off either. Fatou joked that starting Monday, I should be the one to buy the attaaya tea, and while we all laughed, it makes sense since I have comparatively so many more resources. I think I will buy the ingredients for attaaya, though I have no idea how exactly to make it. I know it’s a little block of green tea (I think it’s green, at least), mint leaves, and a whole lot of sugar. I wouldn’t be surprised if each little glass of attaaya has a full ½ cup of sugar in it…and I’m talking little glasses, too. I should definitely be taking more pictures around the house, especially when we make attaaya.

My proud accomplishment today was that I took the car rapide! Car rapides are quite hard to describe, and I don’t think I have a picture of one, though I will take one tomorrow and try to post it ASAP. They are buses that are extremely brightly colored and painted with all sorts of religious imagery and sayings. Most of them have eyes painted on the front, along with “Alhamdoulilah” (praise God) written in big letters. Regina, my German host sister, was planning on taking one to her class this morning and so I tagged along! Car rapides are very small and cramped, but even though we felt like sardines in this one, I’m sure you can fit double the amount of people in there. It’s only about 50 CFA, or about 10 cents, for my commute, which takes about 30 minutes walking. The man collecting money didn’t ask me for it, though, and Regina said if they don’t ask, you don’t have to pay it. So I stepped off the back of the bus, which was probably still moving a bit, without paying, and got to school quite early. It was a good experience though, and now I am not nearly as intimidated by it as I was before. Barely any toubabs take the car rapide, so Regina and I stood out a bit with our pale skin and blonde hair. I will definitely do it again, though!

Ba ci kanam!