ThInGs I No LoNgEr TaKe FOr GrAntEd

Just a list of some things I've noticed are no longer in my life...

1) Washing machines. I really wish I had one. There is someone who washes clothes but she doesn't wash jeans, underwear, cargo pants or bathing suits. All I have are shirts.

2) Target/Walmart- the convenience of everything in one location so easily accessible. I don't always like to bargain in Wolof for stuff.

3) Taxi meters- because they're fair. What's not fair is overcharging me because I'm not Senegalese.

4) College ruled paper- who would've thought I should stock up on paper before I came. But the paper here is like graph paper, I can't write on that.

5) Smart trip cards or bus pass- that'd be nice to have. although the way the bus system works here, it would be impossible to implement a smart trip machine. The bus gets so packed during rush hours and there's no way to monitor who is on the bus and who paid.

6) phone plan/unlimited texting- I have a pay as u go phone. I don't like my conversations to last longer than 20 sec otherwise i'm paying beacoup money!!!

7) Bacon- PORK bacon, or even turkey bacon. Haven’t had either since I’ve been here.

8) Milk- I don’t like the way the milk tastes here. I want some 2% milk.

9) Oreos- but not just any oreos, the white ones. Nobody loves those. Except for me. I love white oreos. Although now that I think about it, having the black oreos would be great as well.

10) Waffle fries from chic fil a. They’re so delicious. Actually I just miss chic fil a in general. Nuggets with waffle fries and sweet tea lemonade mix.

11) Certain sanitary Practices- although I’m not dead yet. Maybe there’s no need to sanitize everything.

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).

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.

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...

Crash Landing

So I'm here...Africa...the motherland...how exciting!!!! How nerve-wracking! How incredibly HOT!!! As soon as I stepped off the plane into the virtually pitch dark world (it was early morning), I was smacked right in the face by the thick formidable Senegalese air. With my light jacket on it was unbearable. Nevertheless I loaded on the bus with everyone else and took the five second ride to the airport. Once off the bus I figured out which line was for international passengers (the one with the sign in English above it) and filled out the necessary paperwork to enter the country. Eight or ten men greeted me at baggage claim and offered to take my bags and take me to their taxi, all things I had no money or need for. One did help me however; I only understood "cart" and "no pay" but shortly after he came back with a car for my luggage. "Merci," I said with a smile and continued on my way. The airport is very small; I found the exit and Masake (my fellow HU bison and the daughter of Madame Kane whose school I will be working with) came shortly after. Now I'm here with the Kanes ( the family over the school) safe and alone because I overslept.

My Journey to Africa Begins

Africa used to call me. She used to invite me to sit at the steps of her kingdoms and sleep safe in the comfort of her arms with her children.

Yes, she used to call me incessantly. I drove myself mad in my attempts to answer her call believing that Africa was the gateway to wholeness in self.

It seems I had become one of those Black Americans. But before you place me in the sterotypical box of Black Americans who are pro-black and want nothing more than to embrace the Motherland and their roots, let me tell you--I never claimed Africa.

I shunned the racial label "African American" because my roots are in South Carolina. That is where they start and that is what I claim. But I found that the more I disassociated myself with the continent, the more I yearned to create a connection. What I understand is that I cannot claim a connection that existed over 250 years ago to a place that I have never visited.

My task was then to build a new bridge to Africa, one that I could claim personally. I set out by applying to various volunteer programs that spanned from a few months to two years. I received rejection after no response and became discontent with America. Instead I went to Eastern Europe--three countries over ten days and found the international world lacked the luster I had imagined in my mind...

New York became my next move. This city, so alive so fast and crowded with its bright lights, angry drivers and relaxing green parks was what I wanted. I wanted to live in this vibrant busy city. As I made my decision, I got my acceptance as a teaching fellow to the Senegalese-American Bilingual School (SABS). This was my opportunity to teach English and video to school children in the capital city of Dakar.

At first my answer was no, why would I want to leave this crazy city or America, for a 10-month assignment in Dakar that would set me back financially? Long ago were the days when I had dreamt of traveling to the continent to find acceptance from her people, which is what I had wanted all along. No, I just wanted to be accepted to an entry-level communications position in the city.

But even as I shook my head in firm rejection of this position, there were whispers of concerning questions. What had happened to the passion? When would this chance come again? If I didn't take it, would I always be wondering what if?

Here was my chance to explore the education profession and become an international journalist, something I claimed I wanted. Should I really turn this down?

It was a hard decision to make; the very heavy airplane ticket price made it even harder as did the fact that I had only had my Blackberry Curve for a few months, and I'd have to deactivate my plan.

The more I thought about it, the more clarity and peace I got about going. It had to be the way to go. It was as if everything had been building to this decision...my years of French, my interest in education and the doors at CBS that opened for freelancing, and so I am going...

Mach'Allah. (May God maintain it).