A week in rural Senegal

During my week in rural Senegal my perceptions of community and understanding of Senegalese culture deepened dramatically, perhaps moreso than in 2 months of living in Dakar. It was clear immediately upon my arrival that the week of rural life would differ drastically from my Dakar life. The realization that I would be isolated from other CIEE students and my Senegalese support network was both thrilling and terrifying. But by the end of the week I was surprised at how deeply one week of true immersion, interaction, and observation had deepened my understanding of Senegalese society and culture.

            Above all my week was defined by viewing people not just as individuals but also as members of a community. My complex within the micro-village was comprised of Alassane’s extended family. Reflecting on all of the people I met, I have no idea where they fit in the family tree. While discussing this observation with Alassane, we stumbled upon the topic of how people’s positions within the family are not the most important thing. The important thing is that they are family. As an outsider, my natural inclination was to figure out each branch of the family. But after a couple of days in the village I realized that it was more important to get to know the people themselves, as individuals who contribute to a larger community because at the end of the day it doesn’t matter who is related to whom and how. Each morning, the emphasis on family was reinforced by going to each household of family members before leaving for the day’s activities and wishing them a good morning.

            Meals seemed to not be eaten based on parents/children and people who live in the same home but based on who happens to be in the house when it is time to eat. Tasks are shared by people in a way I cannot recall ever having seen in the United States. For example one of my family members, Ngoné, started braiding my hair with extensions one night. The next night a family member from a nearby village was visiting and she continued the job. The next afternoon two other family members finished. What in the United States could easily turning into a competition for territory (“I started it, how dare somebody else take over for me!”). The time taken out of their evenings that they took for an almost complete stranger still leaves me with the sensation of being welcomed into the community  

            Even amongst people who were not members of the same family the same blurred lines of individual identity versus identity as a member of the community. I spent two days at the Case de Santé observing and helping to open up the center in the morning. As I sat in the exam room none of the patients questioned my presence, demanding privacy. As the woman who works at the center spent the afternoon weighing young children and examining their records people were everywhere but nobody seemed to have any problem with that, unlike in the United States where people expect private examination rooms for themselves or their children. I noticed the first patient at the center walked in, was treated, and left without paying. When I asked about the system of paying, she told me that people who can pay, pay. Those who cannot pay however are not refused treatment. The cost of their treatment is noted and the center is later reimbursed for having taken on a social case.

The day I spent at the preschool/kindergarten, which was actually only a morning with class starting 9:30ish and ending before 1 o’clock, epitomized for me the importance of being a member of the village, a student, and a member of the global community. In a room filled with children ranging from around 4 years to 6 years old, I of course stood out because of my age and my color. However every child came and greeted me by shaking my hand, though some of them did it with a great deal of fear in their eyes. At the end of the day there were 4 students, 2 girls and 2 boys, who interacted with me in a way that will forever stand out as one of my memories from this semester. With the two girls on my left and the two boys on my right they touched my skin then touched theirs. They touched my fingernails then touched theirs. The girls moved my hand and arm and the boys mimicked the girls. All the while I could see on their faces the realization that even though I look different, I work the same way they do. Their faces were so intense as they processed our differences and similarities and I am certain those few minutes will be some of the most profound of my experiences abroad.

            Prior to the week of my rural stay I knew intellectually that community is important to Senegalese and that people take precedence of time and one’s own priorities. I knew that hospitality, terranga, is of great importance. But it was not a concept I had fully experienced in Dakar. At the end of the week I was happy to return to Dakar, to my family, but the emphasis on  membership in family and community is a lesson which will return to the United States with me. Alassane and I discussed how the true value in travel, in experiencing different cultures and lifestyles, is in sharing them with other people thus truly making a difference in the world. The lessons about people and community from my village will be one of the first things I share as I reflect on my semester abroad.

Long Time, No Blog

Wow! It’s March 11th already and I’m only 6 days from my halfway point. The first week back from break was a whirlwind and this week was as well! (Thus my minimal blog activity.) Monday I met with my fantabulous language partner Korka as usual. Tuesday I had classes from 9 am to 6:15 pm (so it was nearly dark by the time I got home). Wednesday I was out of classes at 4:15 and Liz, Julie, and I hung out at my house afterwards for a bit, then Thursday I went to the beach when my afternoon class didn’t happen (the class wasn’t so much cancelled as the professor was taking a nap before class and slept through the first half hour of class).

Monday Korka and I talked a bit about university life in the US. Tuesday a professor from Université Cheikh Anta Diop  (UCAD) came and spoke with our society and culture class about the educational system overall and Thursday we visited a local primary school. Some of the differences between our educational systems are incredible and very frustrating to observe, I can only imagine how frustrating it must be at times to students. Despite seemingly high enrollment numbers, absenteeism on the part of both students and teachers is a huge problem as is quality of teachers, most simply haven’t had the experience necessary to lead a classroom. So while the numbers reflect a country with high enrollment numbers, the quality is minimal. Last week most teachers were on strike because some haven’t been paid in months.

College is barely better. At the primary university (University Cheikh Anta Diop – UCAD) there are 50 professors in the English department for over 7500. Classrooms are small and students must arrive hours in advance if they want a seat inside in the classroom. Students who do not arrive early enough must listen through the window but that is not taken into consideration during grading. Housing is also a problem on campus. For every room on campus, there are 35 students. Most students live with extended family who live in Dakar.

Last Friday I bought some fabric in Ouakam (a neighborhood of Dakar where some of my friends live) and this week went to the tailor. The fabric cost me more than it should have (I have yet to be really good at bargaining) so four meters cost me $16 but the tailor is costing me $1.50. It should be finished by next week.

While the first month and a half here dragged a bit, the time is now flying by. In my Senegalese Society and Culture class yesterday we talked about what our rural visit options are. I’ve decided to go just south of Dakar to Petit-Côte just south of Dakar. I’ll learn more details about that next week. Then on the 19^th we leave for a week of rural stays.  By the time we come back we have less than a week left in March.  Though I still feel like a foreigner here because I obviously standout as a white American, I no longer feel like a visitor. Now I have the sense that I do live here. But for now I need to go do some more homework because the end of the semester shall be here soon and I don’t want to be bothered by homework my last couple weeks here.  Hopefully I will write some more exciting, more detailed blogs over the next couple days to catch you up on everything I’ve been doing.

Ba beneen yoon inshallah.

Relaxing weekend in Toubab Dialaw

The weekend before this past weekend we left campus at 9:30 on Saturday and drove about 3 hours (60 milesish) to Toubab Dialaw, an artisan community just outside of Dakar. In and of itself there’s not a lot to write about Toubab Dialaw. We stayed in guesthouses right on the beach. I roomed with my friends Liz, Shaina, and Rachel. Prior to departure we all chose one of three lessons to take (dancing, drumming, or batik). Most people, including me, chose batik because we have the opportunity for drumming and dancing lessons here in Dakar.

Batik is the process of painting wax on fabric to keep it from being colored by dye. With each new dye a new layer of wax is added to protect whatever isn’t to be colored. My batik ended up being orange, red, and white. Several people included quotes of some sort on theirs. Those of us who did batik painted the first layer of wax on Saturday afternoon then the second layer Sunday morning. It’s a really fun thing to do! The other great thing about doing batik rather than dancing or drumming was that I now have a concrete product to bring home with me.

The real charm of Toubab Dialaw is that it was simply relaxing. We had great food and in the evening there was a drumming and dancing performed for us. Afterwards several of us went down to the beach and lay in a circle with our heads together. It was like a mini-slumber party. In the distance we could see the lights of Dakar (as one girl remarked, you’d never know from that view that Dakar is a city with such frequent powercuts). When we looked up, we saw the stars. So many stars. We were all together but for a moment we were all quiet and I know I was thinking about how incredible it is that I’m here and how in spite of cold showers, frequent power cuts, and food I don’t love, I could not have made a better choice when deciding my study abroad destination.

Last week on Wednesday we had no classes because it was the prophet’s birthday. This week we are on spring break. Many of my friends have chosen to go to other places in Senegal or the Gambia. I even have a friend who is in London. But I decided to stay in Dakar to rest and get ahead on some work before the end of the semester can sneak up on me (considering I’m already in my 6^th week here I think the end of the semester is going to arrive very quickly).

Jamm ak jamm. <3

Mishmash of thoughts before I write my Toubab Dialaw blog

I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t be thrilled to be told I could go home tomorrow instead of waiting for another three months. Having said that, I’m having a great semester so far. I know I’ve started falling in love with Dakar, Senegal, and my semester abroad because today I found out that Suffolk University will be closing its Dakar campus and I felt a loss. CIEE is looking to continue renting the space it currently occupies, but part of the experience here is participating in clubs with Suffolk students with whom we can bond and practice our linguistic skills. As I thought about it I realized I was sad because students in the future will not have this same experience, though they may have something different and just as rewarding, it won’t be this experience. My language partner is going to be taking the TOEFL exam and is hoping to be at Suffolk in August (which means we could continue communicating in person this fall!).

Just prior to leaving the United States and in my first week or two here I questioned if I had made the right choice. I questioned if giving up the familiarity of Europe for a country with unreliable infrastructure, food I knew I didn’t love (i.e. fish), and immersing myself in a country where I don’t have to say word to stand out because the color of my skin does that for me, was been worth it. I am confident that it was the right choice. Last Friday during my African drumming class local children came in and danced to the music we made and led us in a dance at the end of the lesson. On the way home from school today I walked through a crowd of people pitching tents on the side of the road to celebrate the prophet’s birthday (they’ll be praying all night and tomorrow is a national holiday). You pay 20 cents to ride a colorful and packed car rapide to your destination and look down realizing that you can see the road beneath the vehicle. The sense of community is reinforced every night as we all eat from the same bowl. These are things that simply would not have happened had I chosen to study in France or somewhere else in Europe. I could not have made a better choice.

I realize some of you may wonder what it’s like for me getting to school each day because that’s information I’ve come to take for granted. I walk to school each day and it takes me about half an hour. I turn left out of my house passing the UN, a hotel, a little bookstore, and various street venders. I then cross the street and cross the street a few more times, working my way through the traffic of two traffic circles. Just as I reach the opposite side of the second circle there is a Catholic primary school. I walk along a busy road for a while passing several fruit stands, some clothing stores, a butcher, and a mechanic. I turn left just before a building under construction which is located right next to a DHL. I walk on that street for just a couple of minutes and turn right onto the next street where I pass the Cuban and Palestinian embassies and another primary school. At the end of that street is another fruit vender. Then I must turn left onto Rue Cheikh Anta Diop. There has been massive construction going on there since we got here and each day I’ve had to work around a different section of road being paved. On Cheikh Anta Diop I pass a Turkish restaurant, a flower store, the place where public transport vehicles are kept, a mechanic, and CIEE/Suffolk is located on the campus of École Nationale Économique Appliqué (ENEA).

<3

They’re a part of the family…at least they are in the United States

Perhaps I’m wrong but I think if you ask most people in the US about their childhood pet(s) they’ll have a lot to tell you. Even though there are a few people here and there who don’t like animals, you often hear people describe their dogs, cats, horses, bunnies, and more as “part of the family.” We invest arguably ridiculous amounts of money into their health and keeping them alive and when they die, we cry at our loss (which is in and of itself a strange concept in Senegal where emotions are to be kept in check and not publicly displayed.

There are the pets large and small that put up with children grabbing onto them, playing with their ears, paws, and tails, the pets who we would swear understood every word we said to them; the pets who ate more human food than pet food, the pets who fell asleep beside our head every night for 12 years, the pet that shared its incredible physical strength galloping across a field (clearly those are my pet memories). There are feral cats and stray dogs that I pass on my way to school but not enough to make me think about it and I knew that most of our host families do not have pets. I didn’t realize how foreign of a concept having a pet was until talking with Korka.

She was telling me the story of an American friend she had met online who came to visit Senegal. The girl was staying at a hotel but it was getting expensive. In the spirit of hospitality that Senegal is famous for, Korka’s family invited the girl to stay with them. What the girl didn’t tell them was that she had picked up a stray cat while here and was bringing it with her. Apparently the cat created quite the ruckus in the house and was not the most popular inhabitant. I don’t know exactly how to describe the expression of surprise and confusion on Korka’s face when I told her about our animal cruelty laws (then further explaining that though American culture doesn’t approve of beating animals whipping horses for example does happen and isn’t necessarily perceived as bad).

One of the things that struck me most about our discussion about animals was that just prior we had talked about “terranga.” She recounted how she didn’t believe her father when he first told her that you can’t just knock on somebody’s door in the US, not knowing them, and expect to be welcomed in and given food and shelter like could happen here. Only when her brother, who currently lives in Boston, confirmed this did she believe it. Why is it that we give animals such a high role in our lives, elevating them to the status of family, some people to such an extreme level as leaving them money but as a society we are unwilling to literally open our door to somebody from away who needs food and a place to stay because they are in a foreign place? I love the animals in my life and childhood as much as the next American and would never consider treating them as unimportant, but how can we justify not treating other people, other humans as part of our family when we share so much more in common with them?

Thththat’s all folks!

p.s. While on the subject of animals…I followed some cows on my way to school Monday morning for part of the way. They were just meandering. I’m pretty sure no person was with them but they were just walking down the street and turned very nicely as a group down a side street.

A couple pictures in case you can't/haven't looked through my facebook album

During orientation we learned how to eat "around the bowl" where 

all family members eat from one bowl.

Traditional Senegalese fishing boat being put in the water on Gorée Island

Me with Dakar in the background

Car rapide is a cheap (though not always rapid) way to get around the city. They cost only about $0.20 per ride

Here are just a few pictures of my semester so far!

Most Boys Are Players (and other conclusions reached with my language partner)

We don’t share classes with Suffolk students but there are clubs on campus are open to CIEE students, including a language partnership club. Over the next 13 weeks we will meet with our language partners twice a week, once individually and once with the rest of the club, to speak English, French, and Wolof. I have to admit that I was a tad nervous prior to my meeting today because my language partner, Korka, seemed to be about as shy as I am and I didn’t know how we would find things in common to talk about (as if it isn’t difficult to meet new people when they speak the same language). Of course I was nervous for no reason because people are people no matter where they come from, what language they speak, and what ethnicity you are.  

So put 2 college-aged girls together and they’re bound to come up with some topics in common and really, other than the occasional physical woes of being a girl, what’s more universal to girls than boys? None come to mind immediately and boys became a topic very quickly today. We both have had only one relationship and we compared and contrasted, coming to the conclusion that most boys are players and that what they say they’re okay with at the beginning of the relationship, quickly becomes not so okay. She told me how her mom had told her that all boys are players, except her father. Her father told her all boys are players.

She comes from the Seerer ethnic group and shared with me how one of her cousins wanted to marry her this past August during the Holy Days but she was not in love with him. She refused his proposal, which was a big deal in her family, but all along her mother supported her saying she should only marry somebody she loves. I am awed by her determination to date and marry only for love in a society that, though changing, is still very much dictated by tradition.

Family too is a universal theme that came up. We talked about how American families are so small compared to families here. She has 4 sisters (I think 4, she might have said 3) and a brother. She knows one family that is so large she said you walk into their home and it’s just bedroom after bedroom to fit everybody that lives in the home. We discussed all that our parents have done for us especially helping us to obtain an education and how we doubt there will ever be a way to truly repay them. She described her mom as “something special” and I imagine/hope the expression on her face of pure love and admiration is what people see on my face when I talk about my mom.

We ended up talking for an hour and a half and I’m already looking forward to the next time we meet with the rest of the group, on Wednesday. Her English is great, much better than my French. Today was the easy day (for me) speaking in English and reminded me that a common language is not necessary to have things in common. My next post: a minor thing that to many people is a really big difference between Senegalese families and American families.

Ba beneen yoon inshallah.

I had planned on writing this blog a week ago…

Now that classes have started time is flying by like you wouldn’t believe.  As I was writing my most recent blog I realized that I had not written a blog about our group’s visit to Gorée Island which, when visiting Dakar, is a must-see. If you’ve been looking through my pictures on facebook you’ve probably seen pictures of it but I didn’t explain the images or history thoroughly.

Gorée Island was essentially a processing center for enslaved Africans before leaving the African coast. The small island was filled with “slave houses” that would hold slaves for a brief period of time (most likely only a few days) before the slaves were put on ships headed for the Americas.   The slave houses were owned by European merchants or African elites and the slave trade became central to the island’s economy. The most famous of the slave houses is “La Maison Des Esclaves” which can still be visited today and is in nearly original condition.

La Maison Des Eslaves is divided into several rooms/cells. One cell was for children and young women who were still virgins. Another cell was for men. Another cell was for women. Two small cells that require bending over to fit into were punishment cells for any slaves who misbehaved or attempted to lead an uprising. Of course with the mass number of slaves processed there were usually more than a couple of slaves who “needed” to be punished and the objective of the slave house owners was to punish as many slaves as needed to be punished, not ensuring that they had space to breath. Time in those cells was generally limited to 1 or 2 days.

Slaves were weighed to ensure they were large enough to be sold at auction upon reaching the Americas. Men had to weigh about 125 lbs, women a bit less. If any slave was found to be too light to be sold they were kept on the island for three months and force fed. At the end of the three months they were weighed again. If they were heavy enough, they were put on the next ship out. If not, they were sold domestically to be slaves to the African elite.

For me, the most striking part of the slave house was “The Door of No Return.” This was where ships would pull up as close as they could to the rocks then extend a plank to the door. Slaves were then forced to walk the plank to the ship after which they were never heard from again. The slaves were chained together so that if one decided to jump and try to die on the rocky coastline other slaves would be forced to go down with him or her. Two guards stood at the door in an attempt to assure that no such thing would happen.

Most of Gorée island has turned into a rather touristy area. There are vendors all over the place selling carvings and paintings and postcards etc. There is a beach and a few restaurants. There are a few museums and some people live on the island. It’s a beautiful in spite of its dreadful history. If you are ever in Dakar, it is definitely a place you should visit.

TTFN my friends. 99 days from right now I shall be flying over the same ocean that millions of slaves crossed on ships and the African legacy of slavery will come home with me.

Thoughts from during a power outage

Monday was a bleh day personally but the week overall has been great. Power outrages were relatively rare this week (I can’t help but wonder if the problems throughout the Arab world and in a few other African countries might be to thank for that) and even more importantly I am starting to get settled in and finding a routine. Dakar, though certainly still foreign in MANY ways is becoming less intimidating. With patience, friends, and time, which is a loose concept here anyways, it’s possible to have great adventures out of what you initially think might be a boring day of classes. (Tip: buying things makes the transition easier as long as you spend within reason. It’s a great way to interact with locals, especially in a country like Senegal where haggling is part of the culture – I bought two paintings last weekend for only 6 bucks!)

The two classes I’m taking as electives started this week (my Atlantic Slave Trade professor was travelling and my History of Islam professor was sick so I had neither of those classes last week). Both professors are very impressive academically and I have no doubt I will be learning A LOT over the next three and a half months. In my Atlantic Slave Trade class I have a book report and a 10-15 page paper 1.5 spaced to write but I’m excited about that. My book is about the Middle Passage and I’m thinking about writing my paper about the impact on African elites after abolition (it’s easy to forget that Africans did profit from the slave trade).

Today made History of Islam worth the entire semester if I learn absolutely nothing else (which is highly unlikely). The class on Thursday is scheduled for 2:30-4:15. The professor, Dr. Kébé, asked us what time it was at about 3:45 and told us he had to leave at 4 because he had a student presenting. What he made a little less clear was that he wanted us to follow him so at 4 we all (all being 4 of the 5 people in the class) packed our bags and followed him to a car where he indicated we were to sit in the back. Squeezed very tightly in the back seat we took a short ride to Université Cheikh Anta Diop where his student was presenting.

When we got to the school there were seats saved for us in a room full of the student’s peers as well as local religious leaders. At 4:15 she started presenting what we later found out was a master’s dissertation about Islam in international organizations, followed by feed back Dr. Kebe, the president of the university, and the former president of Amnesty International in Senegal who is currently a professor at Cheikh Anta Diop and a member of the international board of Amnesty International out of London. After an hour it was determined that she had in fact passed.

We were invited to join the reception in the room next door afterwards and had our photo taken with her as well. We also met and spoke with the former president of Amnesty International in Senegal and that was just a bit more than exciting. Dr. Kebe offered us money to take a taxi back to campus but we declined and decided to walk. Ultimately we took a taxi back to campus because we got lost but I’m pretty sure we actually got a fair price (perhaps only a few hundred CFA above what we should have paid).

This afternoon in particular was certainly not what I expected when I walked in for my afternoon 2:30 class but with each passing day I’m discovering more and more that the Senegalese don’t feel bound to a particular schedule (or informing you of your role in it) and that can lead to fantastic experiences and meeting people that you might never meet otherwise. For somebody like me who likes to be in control, following others blindly is difficult but it is worth it to awkwardly follow your professor, squeeze in a back seat with three of your classmates, and listen to somebody you didn’t know existed two hours early.

All in all I think the weekend bodes well (in case I haven’t told you my school week goes only Monday thru Thursday…Friday is a free day so people who have internships can work on those).  Tomorrow I have the first of five African Drumming classes sometime in the evening and will take a walk around my neighborhood maybe buy an ice cream in the afternoon. Saturday I shall hopefully do most of my homework and Sunday if all goes well can be a day of complete relaxation.

TTFN!

p.s. I come home in 100 days! The time is flying by!

"My dad said find someone new"

Yesterday in my Senegalese Society and Culture class we talked about the caste system in Senegal (though caste is a very loose word to describe the social system here). Traditionally castes were divided into two groups: those who tradespeople or artisans who create products necessary (called Neeno) and the other is composed of those who are not in the first group (called Gér). Within Neeno there is a degree of hierarchy with blacksmiths being at the top, leather workers, woodworkers, and weavers below them, essentially performing artists - literally people who make a living off their voice - after that. Below singers there used to be another group that gave praise to people all the time but because it was thought they didn't speak the through they eventually died out and were integrated into the group above them. Each of these groups within Neeno and the Gér are very distinct and names or roles in ceremonies can indicate what group an individual belongs to. Of course, because of these distinctions, intermarriage was and is not particularly accepted.

Yesterday evening I was talking with my host mom about the lesson on castes. She passionately agreed that castes are very important and when her children were looking for boyfriends or girlfriends, she had to tell them that the person needed to be from the same caste otherwise there would be problems and it simply would not be possible for them to date that person. She also added that Islam is a religion about equality for women, children, and men. But nonetheless the importance of dating and marrying within one's caste is critical. I think perhaps this is not because of the idea that one group is superior to the other (though that exists within the neeno hierarchy) but more because all trades are important and need to be carried on by somebody.

In the United States I think we would like to believe that we are above such a "caste" system. But our careers/professions and those of our parents are important factors in forming our identity. "Rags to riches" is a phrase commonly heard. Although it manifests itself differently, we aren't really all that different. Perhaps I shall have more thoughts on this to share as my knowledge of Senegalese society and culture and Islam deepen.

Met Another Member of “The Club” Today

As many of you reading this blog know, my mom and I are extremely close and became even closer after she was diagnosed with cancer almost 5 years ago. Though I don’t even remember writing it, I must have included this information on my housing form for CIEE because Mame Khady (my Senegalese mom) asked me about my mom’s cancer today.

I found out today that my host mom is a member of the cancer club just like me and too many of my family members and friends. We’ve all lost somebody we love because of cancer or have that threat loom over us daily that someday we’ll hear the words “It’s back.” Mame Khady’s mother died of stomach (if I understood her French correctly) cancer in 1979.

My first thought was how young she was when her mom died because Mame Khady must only be in her 40s or 50s. Then I wondered if her mom were to have the same problems today, would she be able to be saved? Her mom received treatment in France but it was unsuccessful. But even if she were to be diagnosed today, being from a developing country would she be diagnosed in time and have access to proper treatment?

Now as I’ve been thinking about it more, I’m reminded of the universal impact cancer has made. I am 20, Catholic, American, in college, living with my parents, and have a career that I haven’t even started in my future. She is the widow of a minister in the Republic of Senegal, lives with her niece and a cook, Muslim, and Senegalese. But it doesn’t really matter. We’re both the daughters of women who have been diagnosed with cancer. That one word crossed languages, continents, races, age, and religion among other things to remind us that we aren’t all that different and that mothers and daughters always have been and always will be special.

One of the joys of being away from home is being away from the things that drag us down daily. It is easy to write off negative things like poor healthcare and low life expectancies in foreign countries because it’s “foreign.” We have our own difficulties at home and as my people have said “I want my semester abroad to be relaxing. I want to go to the beaches and soak in the culture.”  But I’m starting to wonder if there really is such thing as foreign or if things, good and bad, simply come in different casings. So this year when I relay, I'll be relaying for one more family.

I thought I knew French…

All through high school and thus far in college, language classes have been some of my easiest. When listening to people who aren’t teachers or professors (because I know they slow down the language a bit to help us learn), I’m usually able to understand. Except for grammar being a huge annoyance (and admittedly it drags down my claim to speaking French) I’ve always thought I’m relatively strong linguistically. Ummm…apparently not!

On Thursday I got my first ego blow by not placing into Advanced French I. Besides really wanting to be placed at a high level of French for ego’s sake, I needed to test into advanced I in order to take all of my classes in French. Right now besides my actual French class the only class in French I’ll be taking will be l’histoire d’islam. International law had to be replaced by Atlantic Slave Trade and I am taking Senegalese Society and Culture in English instead of French.

Ego blow #2 was moving in with my host family on Friday and barely being able to understand them! Nor am I particularly efficient at communicating to them what I want to convey. Yet on an intellectual level, I know we “speak” the same language. This is surprisingly frustrating and very humbling (to anybody who is a hardcore believer in “You’re in America – speak English” keep in mind that it is so much more difficult than it sounds. Even if it is a language you “know” and have studied academically, actually using it around people who speak it everyday and expect you to understand them without repeating themselves 10 times is not an easy thing to do. When it becomes clear that you aren’t fluent linguistically it makes you stand out even more…here toubab is the word to describe somebody from away).

(As you might be able to tell I’m dealing with my first bout of homesickness.)

Today I walked around my neighborhood (Sacre-coeur 3) with a 5-year-old (Mahkmeesh) and an 11-year-old (Kinné). I was completely dependent on them for directions. When we were at the small garden with their friends I found myself surrounded by 6 girls all of whom where shrieking, playing with each other, talking to me, trying to talk with me, and calling me toubab all at the same time. It was one of the most overwhelming experiences I’ve had in a long time. I could neither hear individuals nor the group overall and had no idea what was going on.

Moral of the story: I know the next 110 days will make me much more fluent in French but right now I’m feeling pretty lost.

A bientôt.

p.s. I’m typing this during a power cut on Saturday evening so who knows when this will actually be posted online.

If You Know Me Well You Will Truly Appreciate This

The traditional way of eating (and the way my family seems to eat lunch and dinner) is “around the bowl.” We all sit on the floor (adults sit on stools) on a mat around a giant bowl. The bowl is covered with rice or couscous. Each person has an invisible pie slice shaped portion of the bowl that they claim as their own. In the middle the meat is placed, which typically is eventually distributed among the people eating by the head of the house. Other things like vegetables (carrots and eggplant are common) are also in the dish. If they fall in your section you move them towards the center to be shared with everybody.

In the past three days I’ve had fish twice, rice a lot, and 4 cups of tea (well more like shot glasses of tea but you get the point). Yup. This is me bragging. I’ve eaten fish (which I’m not particularly fond of…though there seems to be one that doesn’t have much flavor and might be good if you were eating it not with rice.) I’m actually liking some of the fish more than I thought I would though steak will always have my heart.

I have eaten rice in small amounts but without a doubt more than I’ve ever eaten in the rest of my life combined. Nor has it been simple white rice. It’s been spicy. Yeah…not such a fan of the flavor or texture. Def not something that will be worked into my home diet.

The tea hasn’t been bad although once again it’s not something I would actually spend money on. A note on the drinks in general, it seems like drinks are not actually consumed WITH the meal but AFTER. To me who needs a coke or pepsi WITH every meal, this is difficult. I don’t mind the flavor of some of the tea that I have been served (when they are sweeter I have less of a problem). However there are some that have more of a mintyish (and I use that term loosely just because I can’t come up with a better word) flavor and I’d rather not drink those. Fortunately the more bitter teas are followed by the sweeter flavors so all’s well that ends well I suppose.

Trying all of these things and eating even very small portions is really a huge step for me. However that’s difficult to explain to people who tell me to eat more or ask if I don’t like it or if it is not good. But to me it is such a big step that it is actually exhausting.

I am quite confident of loosing weight while I’m here. Guesses anybody? <3

Whirlwind!

Salaamaalekum! (Peace be upon you!)

Hi everybody!

So far things are going quite well. Power blackouts are common in Dakar (I’m already becoming very skilled at getting dressed in the dark) and hot showers tend to be hit or miss. The weather is beautiful and even windy days are comfortable. The evenings do get a bit chilly but certainly better than what we have at home right now! Suffolk University Dakar is quite small, essentially a courtyard and the surrounding building. Yesterday I bought a cell phone.

This week has been all orientation things. Yesterday was the first day of “Survival Wolof” which wasn’t too difficult to learn though I am far from being a pro! Tomorrow we have another crash course and that is the last session of orientation week. But I will be taking basic Wolof as one of my required language courses. I’ll also be taking a French class. Beyond that I don’t know what classes I’ll be allowed to take because I’m waiting on the results of my placement exam.

Today we watched a film called Democracy In Dakar, a film that was filmed by a former CIEE student. It examines the youth role in politics through the eyes of hiphop, particularly during the 2007 elections. It was a great film and gave me a lot to think about in terms of my thesis.

The most exciting part of today thus far has certainly been finding out a bit more about my host family. I will be living in the Sacre-coeur 3 district. My host mom is the widow of a minister of the republic who has children that live abroad. Apparently her home is large and she shares it only with her niece who helps take care of the house.

Well, I’m off for now. I’ll take pictures at some point and post them (either here or on fb).

Ba beneen yoon! (Until next time!) <3

MB

Last Day in Maine

Technically I don't leave until Saturday morning but today was my last day in town and essentially my last chance to say good-bye to most people (Tomorrow we are bringing my best friend back to college and Friday we are going to Boston to spend the night) and start last minute trip preparations. So while I checked to see what the weather is in Senegal (today it was 70 degrees and partially cloudy) Maine bid me farewell with a good old fashioned Nor'easter! My hometown got nearly a foot of snow today and the temperature was just around freezing all day. Fortunately I'm not flying today so this weather is a great way to say goodbye. The next blog I post will be from Senegal!

The first few days of the semester will be chaotic. I will arrive in Dakar around 6:40 am local time (1:40 am EST) and have orientation from the 17th through the 21st. For the first five days we will be staying in group housing before moving in with our host families. Wolof classes start on the 18th and normal classes start on January 24th. So between now and my next post there shall be more goodbyes, many hellos, some jet lag, and probably a bit of culture shock. Until then my friends and family!

Au revoir!