Monday, September 21, 2009

Korite!

Korite has come and gone. It was a day filled with food, beautiful colorful outfits and glasses of bissap and more bissap. The memories inspired by it will last after all of that is gone.

In the morning everyone went to the mosque for service. Afterwards it was back to the house for some pourridge with yogurt, my first breakfast food in Senegal and a very filling meal. Because I didn't go to the mosque in the morning, I had extra time to prepare for the day. Masake allowed me to borrow one of her dresses for the day and I wore my very expensive and fly (if I do say so myself) tresses.



Though we were all dressed up, Masake and Rugi's outfits outdid us all. They had their outfits specially made for the day and they were gorgeous.

The boys came over with Amadou for lunch, our first lunch in Senegal and afterwards we lounged around in our dress clothes until Masake decided it was time to make the visiting rounds. After everyone eats, the day is typically filled with visits to friends and families. When they greet they say to each other in Wolof:
Forgive me, I forgive you. May God forgive us both, in turn.


Our first stop was at the house of two of Masake's cousins They are two girls, 23 and 25, who we will be very good friends with in the near future...language permitting. Camille will be their neighbor and I will be living not too fa from all of them. Three men came in to visit a little bit after we came and we learned that they too leave nearby. I hope to see more of them as well. :)

That was the only visit that worked out for the evening. At the subsequent visits no one was home, most likely off making their rounds.

So, we headed to the Radisson Blu and got a few sodas. The view from the outside is beautiful. True to its name the structure is highlighted by blue lights at night. You can see blue lights glowing softly beneath the pool and around the corners of the patio area. If you walk to the edge of the enclosure you can watch the ocean rhythmically move in and out surrounded by the city and its lights. In the distance is the lighthouse we ventured to not so long ago, its light rolling in a circle.

It is the kind of place I can see my father wanting to stay when my parents come to visit me, but I think I will probably put them in a place a bit more traditional...

Once we left the Radisson, we went to the most western point of Africa and found everything closed. Then it was off to downtown for pizza.

Korite was fun and thankfully it also comes with a 2 day haedus from the school. As much as I say I love those kids, teaching is hard and mentally strenuous.

The holiday made me realize just how much I can't wait to move into my homestay. As much as I love living with the Kanes in Almadies, it seems to me that more people live in Mamel and Ouakam and I want to be where the action is. I just hope when that time does come, it will be all that I hope for and then some.

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Dinner with Ahmat

Friday all of the teaching fellows had dinner at Ahmat's house.

Ahmat works in administration at SABS and is also a relative of the Kanes. When the Kanes had their large Ndougou and invited several friends and families, the other teacher fellows and I sat listening to Ahmat as he detailed how we are all "persons" no matter what our color or religion or origin. It was a very interesting and passionate discussion.

Afterwards he told us that we must come to his house and have dinner before Ramadan was over. As Saturday marked the last day of Ramadan, our time to come over was running up.

Camille and I went to Amadou's house to break fast first and meet up with the boys. CP time prevailed and we unfortunately arrived after the sun went down.

Then Amadou accompanied us to Ahmat's house which was only about five minutes away.

We found Ahmat in the open outside speace of the front of house next to his little baby girl. A mat and a mattress sit invitingly on the floor and that's where we spent the next hours of our time. It was very comfortable. In the distance we could hear chanting and goats bleeting.

"You must only speak in French," Ahmat told us. "You know English very well already so you must speak French."

He was right. So I spoke my next sentence in very broken but understandable French.

"Je veux trouve un homme de Senegal et parle Francais toujours!" I announced. (I want to find a Senegalese man and speak French always.)

"Oh," Ahmat said. "You want to marry a Senegalese man?"

"Peut-etre." I replied.

"Do you want to be the first or the second or third wife? he asked me."

I frowned. "Le premier et le finalement!!!!"

"Well you know here in Senegal a man can have more than one wife."

"One, two, three, four wives." Amadou added.

"But not five." Ahmat finished. "If I make more money I may take a second wife. And have more babies. I may take an English wife."

"Why would you take an English wife when you have a wife that can speak English?" Ahmat's wife questioned coming up behind him. She sat in the chair across from him and positioned the baby in her lap so that they both were staring at him.

"Ahhh...."

We continued talking for several hours before the food finally came. And when it came, it was quite a feast. Beef and theib with onions and olives. As usual it was served in a large silver dish that we all ate from either with our hands or spoons. We dug in.

"Please, eat." Ahmat said. "You are not guests here. You must eat more."

Amadou and Ahmat kept dropping beef in front of us despite our protests that we were full. When we truly could eat no more Ahmat's brother served us small glasses of very strong tea.

Then we laid out on the mattresses and struggled not to fall asleep. I informed Ahmat about "the itis," much to the disapproval of my colleagues but it was clearly what was steadily overtaking us.

But finally, we were able to stand and leave the house. We went straight to sleep as soon as our heads hit the pillows.

Saturday, September 19, 2009

The Last Days of Ramadan

It's here, it's finally here!

The last days of Ramadan. I thought this time would never come. It feels so...bittersweet. There's a sense of accomplishment that I have made is so far in fasting (Well I did cheat a few days) and a sense of excitement. Not only will I be able to eat and drink when I want (whoo!!!) and there will be so many more available activites. People tend not to go out as much during Ramadan because everyone must be on their best behaviours. Some restaurants and other businesses even close for a month in recognition of the month. In addition if they were like me, they were so hungry during the day they conserved their energy by sleeping and sitting around the house. It's hot outside and the last thing one wants to do is break fast because they unnecessarily exerted themselves to much.

I was participating in Ramadan to fully immerse myself in the Senegalese experience. But now that it's over, I find that as a Christian Ramadan has given me the confidence to do my own spirtual fasting for a long period of time. In fact I plan to do one for a week sometime soon.

Because Ramadan is dependent on the lunar calender, it ends depending on when the moon can be seen. Tonight everyone will look outside and if a credible person says they see the moon then the fast is over. If not, the fast will last for one more day.

Then it's Kourite. We celebrate the end of Ramadan. It's like Easter they tell me, except that we're not celebrating the ressurrection of Jesus...so perhaps maybe not so much like Easter. Either way I will find out soon. Hopefully, the moon will reveal itself tonight.

Amistad


I'm chillin' here watching Amistad on this tranquil lazy Saturday afternoon with everybody here in the Kanes residence and I have to tell you it's a different kind of feeling.

Amistad is one of those movies that I purposely avoided due to the fact that I get quite sensitive about matters dealing with slavey and racism. I don't need to see a movie directed by Steven Spielburg to remind me of this fact. Although I must admit Djimon Hounsou is an attractive man and here's a fun fact: one of the languages the Africans are speaking is Wolof. I understood one word.

The thing that gets me in this movie and in others (Roots) is that African people are the ones that sold other Africans into chattel slavery. Yes, I know the institution of of slavery has been around for a very very long time and when there was war there were slaves. The movies told me nothing new.

But now that I'm on the Continent and in Senegal which was a large player in the slave trade, I have to wonder...is this the land where my ancestors were originally taken? Are these people that I interact with each and every day, the descendants of the very ones that allowed for my ancestors to be taken to America?

There is no way to be sure. It's a pointless question that I have asked myself many times.

The only thing I know for sure is that I reverence the past. The reason why I came to Africa was to form the connection that was lost in the greed and hatred that was the American slave trade. I want to build my bridge back to Africa.

I suppose my thoughts on this subject will continue once I am able to view and step foot on Goree's Island. Ramadan is almost over. So that will be sooner than later...inch'allah (if God is willing).

Monday, September 14, 2009

Journey to the Light House

Saturday afternoon the other fellows and I took a journey to the top of the light house. Under the hot Senegalese sun during Ramadan this is no easy task.


But we walked...then we climbed and we made it! You could see all of Dakar or so it seemed from the top...perhaps even beyond. I looked over this city which is now my place of residence and couldn't help but acknowledge the easy peace and calm that has washed over me ever since I stepped foot into Africa. Mach'Allah, may God maintain it.
(we turned out a bit dark in this pic. Can't be helped.)

Chivalry Lives in Senegal

So, I found chivalry in the kind and gracious person of Amadou. Amadou is the man that "the boys" (the 2 male teaching fellows) are staying with. He is the nicest person one can meet and has a true heart for service. One can learn alot from him besides Wolof, just by watching his actions.

Take Sunday afternoon for example. Amadou came over to the Kanes' residence for a quick visit. Because Camille and I had heard the wonderful tales the boys have of hanging out with Amadou, we decided we wanted to come along with him back to his home. So we set out on a very hot walk to Ouakam which is probably about a 15-20 min walk from Almadies. At first it was pleasant and carefree. Amadou offered to carry Camille's purse if it got to heavy for her shoulder. Then he proceeded to teach us Wolof words.

(Excuse the Spelling) "Nan ga tu do" means "What is your name?" "Fungajugi-" "Where do you come from?" "Howma-" "I don't know." "Sawaju" is "Family."

As we walked we came across a very intense argument across the street. They were speaking Wolof quickly and angrily so I didn't understand the conversation, but the body language gave the scene away. Two women--one older and one younger were arguing with a man and an empty taxi cab was parked nearby. The man had the younger woman's purple scarf and refused to give it back to her, keeping her at arm's length.

"Hold on," Amadou said and quickly crossed the street.

He approached the angry group and separated the younger woman from the man. He then began to talk to both of them and after a moment took out his wallet and handed the man some money. The man then obligingly gave the scarf back to the woman. But almost as soon as he did he reached a hand and looked as if he were about to hit the older woman. Amadou pulled him back again and the angry women walked away and called another cab. Amadou then opened the doors to the cab and made sure the women got in safely and watched as they pulled away.

He had completely diffused the situation. But what I didn't understand was that at no point during the altercation did I sense a "thank you." I can't speak Wolof but there did not seem to be any gratitude in their appearance.

To me that was one of the most amazing and kindest things I've ever seen. When Camille and I were walking down the same street with the boys two days before, they laughed when a car almost hit me. Here was Amadou, walking on the outside of the sidewalk to protect us from cars and fixing the problems of strangers. It makes me smile even now.

We had Ndougou at his house with one of the boys. He made us feel extra special and bought a watermelon. The he fried fish and made sure we had as much fruit and Bissap as we could possibly want.

--Just a quick FYI, mangos in Senegal are extra delicious and Bissap is a drink made with the flowers of some plant. It's GREAT!--

It was a memorable Ndougu and a happy day to say the least.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Le Premier Jour de Classe

On Tuesday, Sept. 8, 2009 school started at the Senegalese-American Bilingual School (SABS).

Though students normally wear uniforms, the first week or two of school they are allowed to wear regular clothes. All of the kids were around the basketball court talking and laughing and it brought me back to my days in middle and high school. It also made me feel very old. :(

I am teaching at the "lycee" which is the high school. High school in Senegal starts with 7th graders and goes until 12th grade. On Tuesdays the only class I teach (at least in the month of September) is 8th grade English. Public school starts in October and since many of the teachers at SABS also teach in the public schools, the schedule will change again.

School started at 7:45 in the morning, sooo early although waking up for Ramadan helped the getting up process. The bell, which reminds me more of the wail of a hurricane alarm sounds and the students get in line behind the teacher holding the sign to their perspective grade. An introduction was given in both French and English after which students walk in a line to their perspective classroom.

To be perfectly honest, the first day was the most disorganized, confusing and outrageous days I have had in a long time. Nothing was really together but teachers had to make sure that students could not sense and feel how unprepared we really were. There was paperwork after paperwork for the students to fill in. By the time it got to my first and only class which was the last period of the day, most of the paperwork was done. The 8th grade which is 6th grade according to the French system (the numbers count backwards) was not separated into Francophone and Anglophone so my classroom was filled with students that speak French, students that speake English, and students that speak both.

You can guess that made it a bit difficult for communcation. But if it's one thing that can be understood by all, it's hangman. So I let the kids happily play until another worksheet was handed out.

Even with all of its quirks and room for improvement, I can't say that I didn't thoroughly enjoy the day. Things will continue to progress and all will be pleasant as the school year continues, inch'Allah. (God willing).

Sunday, September 6, 2009

Senegal Days

Allow me to share a bit about this country I am calling home for the next year.

Please don't be disillusioned when I constantly remark on how hot it is or how many mosquitos there are or how there are power shortages. This country is tres beautiful!

The Kanes live in Almadies which is a part of Dakar just as any city has it's various sections or bouroughs and such...across the street there is a beach and it is a religious beach which is currently a place of worship for the sect of Islam that go there. This beach is not very large and it is rocky, but it is lovely to sit on a rock and watch the tide come in and the children play. Going to the beach is a favorite pastime of the people here, as Dakar is right on the coast of Africa.


One day Masake, her younger sister Rugi, Camille and I all went to a larger beach after a day at the school and had a GREAT time. We went into the water and jumped the waves, watched when the children swimming next to us crying, "Madame look at me" (in French) and simply enjoyed the day. The water is not cold at all when you first jump in, it is not to warm either, it is just right.

Another pasttime here is soccer, they love to play soccer here although it is not my favorite sport (I don't actually have one) if you come here don't be surprised to find people playing soccer or running.
When we walk down the streets in Dakar, we often see boys and men jogging, training for some track competition.

Senegal is a very sandy city and no matter where you go you will most likely get sand between your toes or all over the bottoms of your shoes.

People here are very nice. When you meet them they will extend their right hand and say, "Ca Va?" It is not so much a handshake as a brief touching of the hands. Most people are very nice and will do their best to help you even if your French is subpar and are glad to teach you a few words in Wolof.

Everywhere you look you will see bright colors from the garments here. Senegelese are very tall and long and dark and traditional clothing includents long garments that cover the body. You will see bold greens, oranges, and bright blues, any color you can imagine. Some people do wear Western style clothes, but to me what's great about the traditional clothes is that they are made for you. There are boutiques all over Dakar where one can pick out fabrics and have a dress or a skirt made. Most women do not have their hair natural and out in an afro as I do. Women wear their hair in braids or relaxed mainly, or they will cover their hair with a bright colorful scarf. There is also a lot of weave. The best part about hair braiding is that it can cost what is equivalent to about $10 in American dollars. I have not yet seen what is called in America "Senegalese Twists" so perhaps that was just a commercial name given to charge someone $200 for braids.

(haven't seen this yet!)

It is customary that a family have a maid and you will find them in most households. Even the maids have maids sometimes. This has already spoiled me tremendously. The Kane's maid, Ami is great and a wonderful cook. If you are fortunate to have a large home in an enclosure, you will also most likely have a doorman who will open and close the gate for you.

At any given time you can see someone roll out a prayer rug and bow down to pray to Allah. I thought initally that it would be at certain times when everyone prays but I have seen the mat rolled out and heads bowed at varying times. Old men often sit caressing a necklace of prayer beads. Fridays are the Sundays in Senegal. On this day you can see hundreds of people walking to a mosque for prayer. Women's heads most be covered to enter the mosque and most people are wearing traditonal clothes. When the mosque is full you can still see people take out their mats and prayer on the streets next to the mosque. And when it is over everyone picks up their mats and get back in their cars and back to their lives.

Just as in any big city there are people on the streets and there are those who beg. Never have I in any city I've come across yet seen children beg and it shocked me at first and still does. Begging is taught in certain families and at some religious schools the boys are sent out to beg to teach them humility.

Cars are generally not as flashy and large as I see in the States. In truth I don't think they should be, the streets are narrow and I have yet to see a stop light. There are streets that I believe should be deemed "one-way" yet cars going in both directions have gone down them. It seems to work. Horse drawn carts also trot down the roads, they are smaller horses and are driven by boys carrying supplies but never people.

There is still much I need to see of Senegal. School has not started and I am not situated with my host family yet. I am living with the Kanes until they are ready for me. In addition it is Ramadan, and people are on their best behaviors. I look forward to seeing the differences in Senegal after the month is over.

Market Place Adventures

On Saturday I and the other teaching volunteers took a trip to the market downtown. We hopped on the 7 which with all of its usefulness reminds me somewhat of the 70 bus in DC. The bus has a row of one seat on each side that faces forward, seats in the far back and handicap seating in the front. With the limited seating most people are standing and the bus gets packed. It's also harder to keep your balance (or at least it is for me) because the streets are not all paved. In addition there is sand all over the floor of the bus.

When you get on the bus, you load in the back of the bus and pay in the back. Then find a spot and grab hold of a handle and stay on until your stop comes. We were not entirely certain where we needed to get off but once we saw the bright colors of the fabrics sold on the streets, the clothes, and other items on sale we knew we had found the right spot.

Just like in any other city there are hustlers. Almost as soon as we got off the bus, we somehow found ourselves in a fabric store and one of us ended up buying a yard of unneeded fabric. It seemed like everyone knew we were American. A guy approached another one of us on the street seemingly good naturedly. He gave us useful information and we followed him off of the main street into a cooridor with numerous shops and BAM! Just like that, we were trapped.

"My sister!" "My brother!" They called. "Madame! Only 5000 CFA."

After awhile there are only so many "no mercis" you can say. One of the vendors, a painter, declared his love for me and invited me to his house for thiebou dienne. Several minutes later I was physically pulled out of the cooridor with 2 paintings in tow... I didn't buy them because he said he loved me, I'm just one of those pushovers who will eventually buy something if you keep on carefully insisting.

And I was pulled out because there were two other sellers who would not leave me alone. On side there was a woman would not leave my side and kept attempting to press her necklaces on me. Then there was a boy trying to sell me naked wooden statues. Those are just not my thing. The paintings can hang on the wall in my room and I'll grow to love them.

All four of us had bought something by the time we left the area. We continued down the street, my friend strumming the strings of his new little fiddle as we walked. When we finally found the bus stop to go home, we were then harrassed by a little bedouin nomad girl who threatened to follow me to my house and kill me if I didn't give her money. I took my chances and kept my money. It was in the end a fun day. And you know what, I'm still alive.

Saturday, September 5, 2009

More Power!!!


In an instant without warning, the power may turn off. When it goes out there is no light, there is no wireless and there is no fan and when there is no fan it is HOT!!!!! I believe that it is possibly no hotter here than in SC but because there is not as much AC you really feel the difference.

You can't go around wearing practically no clothes, the mosquitos will eat you alive. With time you get used to the heat, you sweat and it cools you down. Then there is the unnecessary heat that you bring upon yourself. Last night Camille (one of the other teaching fellows) and I turned on the fan and still it was impossibly hot. After tossing and turning for hours I found a bit of relief and went to sleep. When Masake woke us up at the crack of dawn for the breaking of the fast, she turned on the light and exclaimed, "Why do you have the heat on?"


Both of us turned groggily and looked at her. "What?"


"You have the heat on and not the AC. These are not the right settings." She switched them and immediately a cool rush of air filled the room. It didn't matter because we had to get up to eat.

Madame Kane had a good laugh at us at breakfast. She found it hilarious. "It's like you went from a 76 degree room to 102!" She managed in between laughs. I did not find it so funny.

Even still we must be grateful. The Kanes have a generator which sustains the power when it goes out. Some people are not so fortunate and in the heat with no food in their bellies because of Ramadan, they protest. There are riots. All the while the Senegalese president drops thousands on his trip in Paris and his people suffer in the excessive heat.

J'ai Faim!!!!!!

In case you are wondering "J'ai faim" is French for I am hungry.

Ramadan for those who do not know, is the month of fasting in the Islamic religion. The idea is to become more disciplined and spirtual as you abstain from eating and drinking from dawn until sunset. Now as a Christian I have never participated or celebrated Ramadan but since I am in Senegal which is a majority Muslim country I have decided to fast. Why not ascribe to the cultural traditions while I am here and besides, there is no food to eat in the house really until the breaking of the fast which is also called Ndougou.

At the Kane's house they keep the table set for Ramadan every day, somethingi I was not initally aware of and I accidently ate from the table and used cups from it my first day because I was hungry...another mistake but now that I know better I will do better.

After the sun goes down (thank God) we eat at the table to break the fast. It is not dinner, just a bit of food before the meal. The usual food for this is bread, varying bread spreads, dates, tea and water. We've had soups and fruits generally as well at the Kane's house. The actually dinner is not at a table. It is in the living room at a very low table that we all sit around on small stools. Each meal has been different. The first meal I had here was chicken and couscous which was served in a very large silver pan that we all ate from. You eat from the food in front of you traditionally with your hands. Tear a piece of chicken and a handful of couscous, then squeeze it together in a ball and eat it. You should not touch your mouth with your hands so what I did was raise the portion over my head and drop it in. It actually ended up being a bit messy. The meals are generally very communal which is not my style but "nio ko bokk," we are all in it together.

The official meal of Senegal is thiebou dieun-- fish and rice cooked in palm oil. It's very good although when the fish was served it still had the head on it and that freaked me out a bit. I got over it and dug in. Not everything is sanitary here, sometimes there are flies and they may land on the food but in the end you simply realize that you're hungry and the flies cannot eat it all.

The fasting gets easier they say, so that you could see a full table of food and not want any of it. This is what they tell me but I am not so sure. It gets so hot here and you really just want a refreshing taste of cool water but you can't if you're fasting...sometimes my stomach grumbles and I get so angry.

I can't wait until Eid-al-fitr, that's when they eat. It's not that I dislike Ramadan, I think it takes much strength and dsicipline to complete such a fast but it's hard to abstain from food for so long during the day. The first meal is around 5:30 in the morning which means we have about four hours before we need to get up again. Usually I find I can't go back to sleep. I lay on my back watching the sun rise in the window. Various birds chirp outside the window, feet shuffle and then I hear the steady bang of a hammer.

I like to listen to the sounds; and think about God and life and what the day will bring. Enjoying the morning is the most relaxing feeling. Perhaps that is what Ramadan is truly about.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

A Closed Door and a Good Fan Are Your Friends--Tank Tops Are Not


There are alot of mosquitos here. I mean I knew there would be mosquitos but dang! Last night they completely devoured and ate me alive. The doctor told me the best defense is to wear long sleeves in the evening but did I listen? Of course not it's insanely hot. I wore a wife beater and pajama bottoms to bed and about halfway through the night I woke up and had the sense to pull the covers over me but the damage was already done. I am covered from head to toe in mosquito bites. I scratch about every two seconds and I think I probably look like a crackhead in need of a hit scratching my neck, rubbing my arm and my legs. Masake looked at my arm and said I'm glad you're on malaria pills! I'm sure she was joking.

Senegal is in the midst of Ramadan which I will be sure to write about soon but first I must scratch an itch.

Airport Trouble

Just as I had been told that there was no hot water in the shower I also quickly realized that it as not needed and it was the most refreshing shower ever...that was until I broke the shower head. Not a good look on my first day.

But before I regal you with more tells of my first day, allow me to back it up to Sunday afternoon-United Airlines tried to play my life. "Where's your visa?" the woman at the check in counter asked flipping through my passport. "Oh I don't need one," I informed her confidently. A concerning frown began to form on her face. "Who told you that?" The next several minutes consisted of her making several phone calls and me frantically trying to make calls but realizing my phone can't make international calls while my family reorganized my suitcase because the bag was about seven pounds overweight. They told me that you can only stay three months without a Visa although the return date on my ticket is set for June. They also told me that when my United flight landed in DC, the connecting flight to Dakar with South African Airlines could stop me from boarding if they so chose. Needless to say she really scared me.

Then once I got on the United flight, it started to rain for about 30 minutes and I thought I'd never leave, Visa or no Visa. When we finally did leave, the pilot was flying haphazardly through the sky--the plane swerved up and down in the air and again I thought I wouldn't make it regardless of the Visa situation. "Make sure your seatbelts are fastened," The pilot instructed over the intercom. "I'm taking some shortcuts so we'll get their on time." Who knew there were backroads in the sky. Whatever he did we made it to DC only five minutes late and I found out that South African Airlines didn't really care about the Visa or how long I was staying. They gave my boarding pass with no questions asked.

The flight that I took to Dakar was an airbus. Its final destination was Johannesburg; Dakar was just a stop along the way. My seatmate was going to Johannesburg, she is studying zoology and will be voluntering at a Baboon reserve for four months. Not my cup of tea but to each his own. The trip was very enjoyable with the diverse movie selections (Two thumbs up for Little Manhattan) and the awesome music album collections. Gotta love Seal singing, "A Change is Gonna Come" and "Jai Hoi" on the Slumdog Millionaire Soundtrack. Makes you wonder if that's what you pay thousands of dollars for. That and all of those choices will keep you from going insane if you're going to South Africa because that's a 20 hour plus flight.

Overall I enjoy South African Airlines. I did however have a problem with this stick figure they had in the background on the tv monitor. It was a person beating a drum with a very large butt. Below is a sketch of the figure which I have perfectly drawn to illustrate my point. I mean really SAA, is that necessary???? Maybe that's just the Howard in me...