Les Mendiants et Les Animaux

Two issues here - Mendiants (beggars) and animals.

I knew there would be beggars here - more than in the US. But, I wasn't prepared for the swarms of little boys who beg. In Dakar, it is estimated that there are 300,000 beggars. Ths week in school, we watched a documentary about the phenomenon in Dakar that has surfaced in the past couple decades that involves young school-age boys and Islam.

You can't walk down a street here without seeing at least 2-3 boys asking for money or other things. They vary in age from about 5 years-12/13 years. They wear dirty, tattered clothes and carry around old rusty coffee cans to ask for money. They hang around places like bus stops, markets, and fruit/vegetable stands, and mosques (on Fridays) where they know people have money to spend.

THese boys come from rural villages, many in Senegal, but many also from comparatively poorer countries like Mauritania, Guinea-Bissau, Mali, and Nigeria. Their parents send them with "marabous" (Muslim leaders) who promise to teach the boys the Koran and give them a religious education (though not a traditional one). However, this relationship has become abused all over. With Dakar as a Muslim center in West Africa, and rich in comparison with other nearby regions, these young boys have been increasingly used as a business to make money for "marabous." I put marabous in quotation because many of them are frauds - not truly Muslim leaders, but posing as them. This relationship stems from the idea that a Muslim community should support the education of boys in the Koran by going to the marabous and donating to continue this education. However, as cities get larger, the concept of community erodes, and people may be less likely to donate than people living in a close-knit rural community. So, marabous send out these boys to beg in the streets. They come back at night and learn to read the Koran, and not much else.

In interviews with the boys, they said they were expected to make 300-500 francs a day, or else the marabous would beat them at night. Even 5-year olds were expected to make 150 francs. 500 francs is about $1. But, in a country where so many people still make just a few dollars a day, that's a lot to beg for. A long-term consequence of this is that these boys have very limited career trajectories. Their skills are begging, and memorization of the Koran. So, what do they end up doing afterward? They become marabous too (continuing the cycle) or they become street vendors, hustling passersby, selling whatever small items they can.

This issue persists and there are basically two reasons why the Senegalese government has not yet addressed it. One, the Islamic brotherhoods (made up of Imams and marabous) are the most powerful group in politics in Senegal. It would not sit well with them to pass laws that prohibit this practice. Second, Senegal is a developing country and its government simply does not have money to feed, house, clothe, and educate all these thousands of boys.

So, what do you do? Do you give the boys money each time, because you don't want them to get beat at night, even though that contributes to the cycle? It's difficult. I've been giving food, since at least then, they may be a little less controlled by the marabous. It's just a difficult issue. Especially, when they single me and my American friends out, since they know we have money. And, yes, we do. But, what do I do?

Then, there are animals. I went from the United States, which is full of animal shelters and rescues to Senegal, where there aren't even shelters and medical care for people as nice (or existant at all) as what stray domestique animals in the US get. So, what do we do? Do people in developing countries deserve the money that goes to animals in developed countries? Do people merit it more than dogs, cats, and horses? I think most people would say, yes. Yet, nobody really tries to change that in the US or Europe. People don't really speak out against helping animals in developed countries, and there are even organizations that work to help animals instead of people in developing countries. I don't know what the answer is. I mean, it is so sad to see people here who can't afford basic healthcare, so they lose teeth right and left, get gum disease, and die frequently from childbirth. But, it is also sad (for me at least, coming from a country that places high value on taking care of dogs & cats) to see stray dogs shivering in piles of trash, and dying on the streets of parasites. That's another thing that I just don't know how to address. I remember reading a statistic that said that if you took all the money that people in the US and Western Europe (England, Germany, France, and other smaller developed countries) spend on their pets (dogs, cats, small domestic animals), you could supply the entire world with safe drinking water.

I think there are different, but also similar motives for helping people and animals. Helping people makes perfect sense in terms of social stability. It makes sense in terms of empathy for other human beings. It makes sense in terms of equality for everyone like you, since nobody has any choice to enter the world, and is thus a victim of their birth. But, many of those reasons are similar for helping animals, minus (perhaps) social stability. You might argue that animals suffer less than people, but I think that is only in some ways. We all suffer the same in many ways - losing members of our community, fear, and physical pain. Humans suffer more mentally, I think. People being very social creatures, we are subject to more social suffering through less directly physically-induced pain (although often linked to physical suffering). For example, in Senegal the adult literacy rate is 43%. This puts over half of the population at a disadvantage in the job market. They are limited to jobs that do not involve reading or writing. Why is literacy rate so low? School is expensive, and girls often do not attend school as far as boys due to strictly defined gender roles. This limits the entire population, since half of its population (girls) are even less likely to be literate. Why are gender roles so definite here? Part of it is attributable to Muslim culture and part of it attributable to lack of education among the general population, and especially women. Statistics show that the better women are educated, the less children they have, which reduces the economic burden, and increases the likelihood that they'll have more options in terms of daily life choices.

Anyway, I'll stop rambling, because really that's all I'm doing because I haven't reached a conclusion on either of these issues. But, just food for thought....

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This one is for you, Mom. The aloe plants here get huge!!!


This is on campus. I just though that really tall plant was cool. It's the flower of the aloevera-looking plant at the base, and I thought it might be one of those plants that flowers like once every 10 years or something.

Me, Robert, an Cecily (the girl who teaches at a bilingual high school here).

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Bougainvillea flowers (I think that's what they are) are common all over Dakar.

Those are some fruit stands. Streets are lined with little market stands like these.

This is downtown Dakar. You can see the car rapides.

That's us in front of the President of Senegal's house. We were required to get a picture with the guard to show we had gone to different places downtown - awkward!

That's Aida - she works at the university and showed us around downtown Dakar. I was the first to buy something in the Sandaga market - Dakar's biggest street market that goes on for dozens of city blocks. I bought some flip-flops for about $3, but evidently I'm not good at bartering because my host mom said she would have paid about 75 cents.....

Me, Aminata, and another woman (forgot her name) who helped me learn about Senegalese culture.

A table in the living room - Mom, Marianne put your card there :)

My living room.

Photos from the first and second week

My bed - with a mosquito net. Everything is so cute.

My room. I love the curtains.

That's my "brother" Robert (but you have to say it in French - Rohhberr). That's his Catholic name and his Senegalese name is Youngar. I don't remember why he has batteries in his nose.

You're expected to lick all the food off your hand after you're finished eating. Maye not exactly like this....

That's tchieboudienne - spicy, oily rice (yummy!) with cassava, carrots, whole fish, & tomatoes.

Learning to eat tchieboudienne with my right hand.

My friend Martina (another CIEE student) and I.

My campus here - Suffolk University

Transportation and Attention

There are 2 things here that have been difficult to adjust to: transportation and attention.

Transportation. THere is more public transporation in Dakar than I've ever seen anywhere else. Of course, I've never lived in a really big city like New York or CHicago, so maybe it's not that much more than those places. But, the types of transportation are a little different. Generally there are 4 types of transportation: taxis, the Dakar Dem Dekk buses (Dem Dekk means come and return in Wolof), car rapides (oh what fun), and flat carts pulled by horses. All transportation is super cheap, and all forms of transportation scare the crap out of me. I've only ever seen one stop sign (nobody stops at them) and there are a few traffic lights downtown, but they don't work. Everyone just honks their horns a lot, you keep your eyes open, and pedestrians don't ever have the right of way. I know it sounds terrifying, but I haven't yet seen an accident.

So, the taxis are just like run-down versions of taxis you'd see in the US. It's about $1.25 to get from my neighborhood to school, but you have to barter in French, or, preferably in Wolof. When you speak in Wolof you're more likely to get a better price, because then they know you're not just a tourist here for a quick stay with lots of money to blow.

The Dakar Dem Dekk are like city buses you'd see in the US, but way overcrowded. In the mornings and evenings there's always at least 100 people on each bus, crammed like sardines. They cost about 30 cents to get from my house to school. On the paved roads, the ride is ok. But, from my house, there's about 10 minutes of driving on very uneven dirt roads, so it's an adventure for a while. The hardest part of riding on that bus is trying to get off. Because, you get pushed toward the middle of the bus as more people get on, and then have to climb over dozens of feet to get to one of the exits. Sometimes, you don't get there in time and have to wait for the next stop.

The car rapides. Oh boy. These are the really colorful buses that are a famous symbol of Dakar. They're not really big, like a large van. There are about 15 seats, with room for about 10 more people to stand. There's streamers on the back bumper, and on the front hood is painted "Alhamdoullilah" which means "praise be to god". They cost about 9-15 cents to get anywhere in Dakar. They're kind of difficult for me to use because there's not really much of a set route. You just have to listen for the "apprenti" who hangs off the back yelling "DakarDakarDakar" or "OukamOukamOukam" or wherever you're going. Then, you tell the apprenti exactly where need to get off. If he forgets, you have to bang on the top of the car to signal you need to get off. The apprenti has a series of different bangs to tell the driver to go, stop, or wait. The pollution from the car rapides and motorcyclettes here is pretty bad.

Then, there's the flat carts pulled by horses. I think they're some sort of Arabian descended line, because they're kinda small, and they have the beautiful heads and necks that Arabian horses have. They're just always really skinny. There's a flat-bed cart that the horse pulls, and a man sits on top with the reins. They don't transport people usually, just things like construction supplies (bricks) or other goods (produce).

The other thing that's been difficult to deal with is all the attention I receive as a white woman. And, despite how much I understand about why it happens, and all the injustices that incite it, it still drives me crazy. I've been proposed to about 4 times, and strangers approach me and my friends everywhere we go to talk to us or get us to buy their stuff. We went downtown on Sunday, and the street vendors followed me everywhere. I literally couldn't get rid of one lady for about 10 minutes. And, I understand that they make a lot of money from tourists who look like me, but still, it's tough to deal with. Also, it's been difficult to make friends in my neighborhood that are women. Men are the ones who are always in the public sphere - going to work/school or hanging out outside. Women tend to stay at home more. Of course, it's only been a few days since I've lived in my neighborhood, so I'm sure that will change after a while.

It's been easier and easier to communicate with my family. I'm learning a lot of language in context. Like, I think I'm saying something correctly, but then realize that people don't really say it that way. But, it's also difficult to communicate with other people outside my family because they speak French, Wolof, and English all together sometimes. Like, we'll start talking in Wolof (becaues I know a few greetings and phrases) but then have to switch to French because I don't know much, and then I may not completely hear something in French and ask them to repeat it, so they say it in English with French/Wolof accents and I don't understand because I think they're still trying to explain it in English. But, I'm sure it will get easier and easier. I'll probably come away with a Senegalese French accent. In Wolof they roll their R's instead of using a throaty R like in French. So, when speaking French, they often interchange the different R's. That sucks for me because I can't roll my R's.

Yesterday I met some people who run a clothing tailor shop in my neighborhood. If you greet people, even if they're just random people on the street that you don't know, they get really excited and you could end up talking for 20 minutes. I'm getting more and more comfortable the more people I meet around my house. There are about 6 other CIEE students who live nearby, about 2 streets over. It's still a little difficult to learn directions, because a lot of things look the same, and there's no street signs. But, I'm learning landmarks little by little. Ouakam (my neighborhood) is right below this huge statue that the Senegalese president just decided to build. There's a lot of controversy about it because it cost the government like 19 million dollars to build, and that's a ton of money for the government of a developing country to spend on a piece of art when people in rural and urban areas are starving, don't have safe water, and children are begging on the streets. That's not just my opinion - it's pretty common among Senegalese people. There's also controversy about how the woman is clothed - it's pretty scanty for people here. The statue is supposed to be a symbol of African Renaissance. Here's a link if you want to know more about it.
http://www.travelblog.org/Africa/Senegal/Cape-Verde-Peninsula/Dakar/blog-459197.html

Contradictions, Misperceptions, and Adjustment

To begin, Senegal is in many, many ways not what I expected. I guess "bustling metropolis" has a totally different connotation in America than it does in Senegal. Senegal being one of the more developed countries in Africa, what I have to say is - holy crap the world has a long way to go.



Last week we spent the days learning about different aspects of Senegalese culture and society. For example, I learned how to eat tcheboudienne (spicy rice mixed with whole fish, cassava, and other vegetables) in the traditional Senegalese way where everyone (sometimes up to 10 people) sit around the same big bowl and eat with their right hands. It's actually really difficult to eat rice with one hand and still look polite. Then, at the end of the meal, you have to like all the rice off of your hand, because nobody wastes food. If there are leftovers, families sometimes save it for another meal, or children knock on the doors just after dinnertime and people give them the leftovers. Of course, of the biggest compliments a mother can recieve is to have nicely fattened people come out of her house. So, moms never stop encouraging you to eat. At the end of the meal, you're supposed to say "Neexna, barina" which means "it was good, it was plentiful." Also, unlike in America, you're not supposed to compliment the food until you are almost finished. If you compliment it too early, they think you expected it to be bad.



Most of you all probably have heard that in the Middle East, you never shake hands using your left hand because that's what they've traditionally used as toilet paper. I didn't think that still happened. But......it does in Senegal, and I'd assume it happens in a lot o Africa. Where a large part of the population still lives off of a $1 or less a day, things like toilet paper, power-flush toilets, and trash collection are luxuries reserved for the upper classes. So, here's how it works :) Either you have a Western-style bowl toilet that flushes (or you pour water to make it go down) or you have a squat-hole. Then, there's a colorfully-painted tea pot next to the toilet and you pour it on, wipe with your left hand if you need to, and then you wash your hands really well. Yeah, gross, I know. But, I am not going to use my hand. That's one adaption that I can do without.



We also learned about polygamy. With a 90% Muslim population, polygamy is quite common. Statistics are difficult to come by in developed countries, but even more difficult to find in developing countries since many activities are informally done. Estimates about polygamous households vary between 30%-50% in Senegal. I didn't expect that many. WE are going to discuss polygamy in classes later in the semester, so I'm sure I'll have more to say about it then, but here are some things I have learned so far. The age gap betweeen a husband and a wife is often quite large. Life (especially in Dakar) is expensive and men have to work for several years before being able to afford an apartment and a family. That means that men are older (approaching 30) before ever marrying their first wife, who is often much younger. Pretty much every first wife wants to remain a first wife. The age gap between first and second wives is also often quite large (10-20 years) since the husband must make sure he can afford a second family before marrying again. Interestingly, women prefer to be second wives (unless, of course they can remain a first wife). This is because second wives often have less responsiblity and more freedom to do things besides housework, which typically falls onto the first wife. Some people say that it's the tradition of this society, so the women don't mind it as much as they would in the U.S. But, just because you don't mind it doesn't mean it's ok that it still happens. I was talking with a Senegalese girl at my university and she said that a husband has no obligation to tell his first wife that he is going to get a second wife. SHe said that, usually, he gets married and then one of your friends or relatives comes and tells you that you have a "little sister."

I moved into my host family's house on Friday. My "mom" is Marianne Djiane. She's a widow who has 2 grown daughters who live in France and a 17-yr-old son who goes to a highschool in another part of Dakar, so he doesn't live with us. Marianne's nephew Robert who comes from the village of Djiao near the coast by Gambia is a philosophy student at Cheihk Anta Diop UNiversity and lives with us until he can find a room at the university. THere is also Cecily, a girl from the US who just finished her masters in DC and is teaching at a bi-lingual highschool here for 6 months. I'm really glad I can speak and understand French as well as I can. It's still not that great, but I can't imagine not being able to talk to the people you live with. It would be so awkward.

Marianne is such a nice woman. She's an excellent cook since she cooked in a 5-star hotel on the Petit Cote of Senegal when she was younger. That's why they placed me with her - because I can't eat red meat, and most families usually eat rice and beef or mutton. We eat a lot of fish with really good rice. THe rice is cooked with vegetable oil and a bunch of spices that I don't know. She also made fataya, which are kind of like fried wantons with fish and spices in the middle. You put them on a baguette with a spicy tomato sauce and lettuce. Yum. We've had crepes with Chocopain (type of Nutella) and yesterday we had fried fish and potato salad. I'm going to cook with Marianne sometimes so I can learn how to make this stuff. For breakfast, we always have a baguette with Chocopain and coffee.

After talking with other students, I am so glad I got placed with this family. In other families, communication is really difficult because they always speak Wolof realy quickly to each other and don't make any effort to communicate with their student. The people in my family usually speak French, and make sure I understand what they're saying but rephrasing and repeating things to me. THey help me with my homework too. Like, we practice how to barter for a taxi price in Wolof and memorize poems in French together.

I've had some funny discussions with Robert about philosophy and usually we can talk for about 5-10 minutes, and then it gets difficult. But, it's fun. His favorite philosopher is Descartes because he was really adamant about not believing in something unless you can be completely sure about it. I don't know much about Descartes, but that's what Robert said anyway.

I think that I live with one of the poorer families that they placed students with. i didn't know this until yesterday, when I visited other students' families. But, I really love where I live, and espcially the people. I'll try to describe my home, but it'll probably be difficult to envision. Sometime I'll get some pictures up.

I live in the neighborhood of Ouakam, which is a huge neighborhood right next to the Dakar airport. It has three sections, and I live in Asecna. The neighborhoods here are way different than the US. Rather than just being residential, there are shops all over - restaurants, cybercafes, hardware stores, clothing shops, household shops, produce stands, pharmacies, and grocery stores. There are several boulangeries (bakeries), since EVERYONE eats baguettes with some kind of Nutella-like chocolate or marmalade every morning. In the evening around 6pm or so, it smells amazing if you're walking down a street where there's a boulangerie. I live on a pretty busy street in Ouakam - right across from the giant soccer field (which is a field of dust with 2 goals - Bobby, exactly like the soccer field near the shantytown in Machuca). Nobody has their own "house" in Dakar, except the President. In my neighborhood it's mostly 2-3 story apartments/townhouses. There are a couple 10-story buildings, but those are really new, and not very common.

So, you walk down the street (no sidewalks anywhere in Senegal, except some parts of downtown) and there's a long 2-story building with a white cement wall with graffiti - that's the entrance to my house. YOu pass through the gate into a little courtyard - maybe 20ftx20ft. That's where they do the cleaning - laundry, and stuff. There are 4 families who live in this building and use this courtyard. I live on the first floor, then there's a family of three above us (AnneMarie, Marie Coudou (15), and Cheikh). On the other side is an adorable family of 5 (Vieuxfall, Tabaski, Mohammed (5), Rieugi (8), and Aisha(7)). From the courtyard, you enter my home through a gate. There's a 4-ft. cement wall, and then the rest of the wall is like a decorative metal grate - because it never gets that cold here. It's pretty open. I mean, it's safe and all, but not like the walled houses we're used to in the states. So, you enter a gate to my home, and Marianne has long white curtains over the wall, for some privacy. It's really nice, because you still get the breeze and have a sort-of wall at the same time. Our apartment is L-shaped. THere's a hallway (that's the L) and off of that is a bunch of rooms. There's Mariann'es bedroom, then the in the hallway there's the table where we eat. Then, there's the living room which has a few chairs, some pictures, and a TV, then my room, Cecily's room, the kitchen, and then the bathroom. It's small, and was kind of awkward at first. But, I like living there. My room is awesome. Marianne decorated it with all kinds of African fabrics.

ANywhere in the developed world, my neighborhood would be considered a ghetto or a shantytown. It's safe, but very poor. On the outside, a lot of the buildings look pretty crappy, but the insides are kept very nice. The shops are all tiny and crowded with stuff. It's always dusty - there are potted plants, but that's it. As everywhere in Dakar, there's trash all around. Nothing immediately dangeorus like syringes or glass. But, lots of plastic and paper. The people and their setting just don't seem to go together. The background is pretty ugly, but everyone dresses like they always have some important meeting to go to.

More later! THere's always so much to say!!!!

Learning more about Senegal

I haven't even been here a week, but I feel like it's been longer. I've seen so much and been doing so many new things. SOme aspects of life here are difficult to get used to. FOr example, you can't walk 5 minutes on a busy street without been asked by a little boy for some money. They wear tattered clothes, sometimes no shoes, and always look dirty. I've given some money, but I can't give to eveyrone. ACtually, yes I could, and that's what the difficult part is. Because I always feel guilty about the inequality between us.

Other things are easy to get used to. A friend and I went to buy a cell phone today. SOme other friends had bought phones for about 15,000francs ~ $30. So, we set out towards downtown to look for the same shop. We found a couple shops, but they wanted $80 for a phone. NO thanks. WE left, and then met some people who run an art shop. THey invited us inside to take a look, and showed us how they make sand paintings, which are really cool. They take like 10 different kinds of sand of various colors from beaches around the ocean and lakes in Senegal & the Gambia and use that like paint - sprinkling it over glue to make pictures. It's really beautiful. ANyway, we were talking and ended up telling them we were looking to buy some phones. This one guy Adama insisted on going with us to barter for a phone. Actually, it was more like us going with him. He took us to a little stand that sold phones, among other things, and bartered in Wolof for a phone for 15,000 francs~$30. I didn't understand a thing. But, I am really amazed at the willingness of the people to help each other here. I mean, you wouldn't find someone selling art in the US just get up from their work and walk you a half mile to a store and find you a good deal on a phone. ANd that's just for a stranger.

I've also made many friends with street vendors. A man named Mamadou Cocro sells shoes during the day and phone credit cards at night. He was a Guinean refugee at one point, and has been selling things ever since he was little. He always makes a point to tell me how we are all the same and the only difference is our skin color. How it is so good that we come to Senegal and make friends here. It's made me think a lot about postcolonial impacts and how a lot of the postcolonial world views white people.

I've been learning the Wolof language. It's totally unlike anything I've ever learned. Even though Senegal is a French-speaking country, most people use Wolof in every day language. Most people in Dakar understand and speak French, but they are much more likely to use Wolof. My favorite thing to say is "Baxnaan, ce deg deg" which is pronounced "Bahknan chadeugadeug."

Photos - first week

Me and my new friends. The guy on the left is a student from Togo who is going to transfer to Metro in Denver later this year.

Boys playing football in the streets.

Some musicians that play on the streets.

Tcheboudienne - the national Senegalese dish.

Yum.

La plage!

Friends - the guy on the left is a student from Nigeria and the guy in the middle is a student from Guinea.

The last few days

I have learned so much in the 3 days that I’ve been here.
I’ve seen dozens of little boys begging for money with coffee cans, wearing tattered clothes. Most of them don’t speak French, which I think they often learn school. So if they don’t have the money to go to school, perhaps they don’t learn French very well. One of the staff at the university said that some of these boys are from Muslim centers. Their parents put them under the care of marabous (Muslim religious leaders) who help them get an education and teach them the Koran. They are often very poor boys who otherwise wouldn’t be able to attend school. So, they ask people for money on the streets to help pay for their schooling. Since Muslims are required to give a certain percentage of their income to charity, this is a perfect opportunity for both the boys to attend school and the local Muslims to fulfill their religious duty.
I have not yet given money to any of the boys who have asked me. At first, it was really difficult to get used to, but now “Non,désolée” and “ba baneen” (next time)have become a daily part of my vocabulary. On Fridays, the Muslim holy day, people tend to give a lot of money to beggars, so perhaps next Friday I’ll do it too. This morning my friend Peter and I bought some “papayes” and “oranges Sénégalaises”, but had no more money afterwards. But this little boy was asking for money, and was totally happy with oranges instead.
I cannot get over how beautifully the people here dress –especially the women. Today, I think we passed by a wedding or some other ceremonial celebration because there were about 100 people all hanging out together by an unnamed store on my hotel’s street. EVERYBODY was dressed in these insanely vibrant colors – oranges, golds, purples, reds, greens, yellows, blues – and they were all shimmering or glittering. And they don’t just look like this on special days. They regularly wear bright colors that shimmer, just not quite s extravagant, but still brilliant enough stand out in America. I feel like such a bum in my plaid shorts and gray tank top. I mean, people say the Senegalese dress impressively. But, I didn’t realize exactly what that meant until I saw it.
Today after lunch we went to the beach again. It was strange because, like yesterday, there were no women besides those in my group. Not even little girls. The beach was chock full of young boys and teenagers, with some adult men. Most of them were probably between 10 and 18 years old. They were all active – nobody goes to the beach to “chill.” The older men work out a lot at the beach – like running in the sand, and doing these squat things. The teenagers like to wrestle. Apparently wrestling is a big sport in Senegal – to start each match they stand face to face, and swat at each other’s arms several times, then they wrestle. They get all full of sand, so that they look like aborigines from Australia – like when they put the paint all over their bodies – and then they run into the ocean to get clean.
The university staff told us that even though women don’t show much skin in daily life, there are places like the beach and at the gym where it is totally acceptable to dress like in America and Europe. So, women can wear swimsuits at the beach. But, it was a little strange to wear nothing but a 2 piece swim suit when we hadn’t seen any Senegalese women wearing them. But, we figured, whatever, and jumped in and swam for a while. Then, we got out and sat on the sand together and some of the boys came over to talk to us. They mostly spoke Wolof, but several also spoke French, and a tiny bit of English. So, I got practice my French A LOT with them. They were pretty funny. I talked with some boys named Georges Makud and Ibrahim. It’s amazing how quickly you improve at speaking a language just by having a simple conversation for an hour. They always ask if I’m married, so I’ve just started saying I’m engaged and that usually gets me off the hook of the “do you want to marry me” question. Haha. We decided going to that beach and talking to the kids would be a good way to practice our Wolof once we start learning it. I feel like I can speak French pretty well, but I still have a hard time understanding other people. The boys kept asking for money and they totally didn’t believe we didn’t have any. And we really didn’t. This one boy wanted to see the bracelet I was wearing. It wasn’t anything special, so I let him see it even though I knew he might keep it. And, he kept it. Then he asked to see my “lunettes” (glasses). No way! I kept trying to ask them where their sisters were because I really want to know why there are never girls there. But, they kept getting distracted when I’d ask, or they’d start talking about their siblings in the US. When we left the beach, several of the boys followed us and ripped flowers off some trees to give to us. So cute. And then they blew us kisses.
At the beach, we climbed some rocks and were looking out over the bay of the beach and I thought I saw the fin of a sea turtle or something like that come out of the water. But then I saw it again and it was just a bird – like a cormorant. They swim with only their heads sticking out of the water.
Goats. Lots of goats here. Or maybe they’re sheep. You can’t really tell the difference between them here. I think goats maybe have more upright ears? I don’t know. But anyway. The first 2 nights I kept hearing them saying “baaaa baaaa baaa” and it was really loud, like close by, but I could never see them. Then, I went to the top floor of the hotel –like 5th floor – and I saw 4 little goat/sheep on someone’s roof. The houses here are like apartments or condos, and they’re usually 2-4 floors, in this neighborhood. The roofs are flat and have like 4-ft. walls, so people use them like balconies or another floor to hang laundry and do other chores, and, evidently, to keep their goatsheep.
Then, at the beach, there were 2 goatsheep just hanging out, eating some grass. One of boys was taking care of them for the day, I guess. We were swimming and then saw one of the boys walk into the water holding the goatsheep and drop it in. He scrubbed it like he was getting it clean. Then another boy came over with the other goatsheep and pretended like he was going to throw it in the water, but then just dropped it in and washed it too. I didn’t know people wash their goats or sheep, but I guess they do.
It is HOT here. Winter my ass. I can’t even imagine what it’s like when it’s summer. In the mornings and evenings it’s really nice, especially with the ocean breeze, but the last 2 days have been about 85 degrees and my hair looks all frumpy in the humidity and with all my sweat.
The food here is pretty good. I love breakfast. It’s either a baguette with nutella or a chocolate croissant. Then they have coffee, in the form of Nescafé (instant coffee packets) and milk. Fruit has been pretty rare at meals – we only had it once in the last 3 days.

And I have never eaten this much chicken in such a short time before! I got some fruit so hopefully that will make my gut start moving things around a little more :) They said we have to be careful what we put in the toilets because there isn't much water or pressure :0 But...you can't always help that....CHeck out the pictures!!!!

La deuxieme jour

Two more students came today, so Martina and I showed them around the part of Dakar that we know now. We met a couple students who go to the school where we'll have classes. Alain, from Nigeria, and Say-Si (no idea if that's spelled right) fromGuinea. They showed us how to get to the beach and it was amazing!! So beautiful! Pictures coming soon. It was kinda sad though, since when we were walking down the street we saw 2 dead cats and a dog I thought was dead, but actually was just sleeping. It's also strange that there are always a few vultures flying in the sky here. More later

First day in Africa!

I arrived in Dakar, Senegal, this morning at about 6:30AM. It was pretty cool flying in at night, because the city was all lit up, and it gave the perfect outline of the peninsula where Dakar is.

I had met a guy named Bedou on the plane on the flight over. He had just finished studying in the US, and we talked for a while. When we got to Dakar, he stayed with me, to make sure I got throught the checkpoints alright. We were filling out these forms before the checkpoints, and Bedou realized he left his passport on the plane. So I waited for him while he went back to the plane. Then, this older man came up to me and asked me to help him fill out his form. I was from Guinea, and I guess he didn't speak or write French well. So, I helped him. Then, he asked if I was married. I said no, and then I'm not sure I completely understood him. BUt, he asked for my address because he wanted me to meet his son and kept saying what a "joli garcon" he was. So I gave him my email. I'd heard about men making marriage propositions to visitors, but I didn't expect parents to do it :)

Finally, we got through the checkpoints. Then, I was waiting in the baggage claim area with Bedou. He was stacking his luggage on a cart, and another guy was helping him. I thought he was his brother or friend. They were speaking in Wolof though, so Iw asn'tsure. Bedou said I could put my bags on the cart too. So I did. Then, we walked outside. I met the man holding the CIEE sign to pick me up. THen, for some reason, the three of them started arguing - not really badly, but I could still tell something wasn't right. They were speaking in Wolof, so I didn't understand completely. BUt, I think that the guy who I assume was BEdou's friend/brother was actually a hired help, and was probably upset that I didn't need his help now, and woul;dn't get paid much then. So, just carry your own luggage here, I guess.

My CIEE contact brought me to a bus, which drove me to a hotel. It was wierd coming to a totally new country in pitch black darkness. I only saw the streets, and the few people on them. I got to my hotel, and met the other girl staying in my room, and then fell asleep right away.

We woke up today, around 11am here, about 4am mountain time. Our hotel room is beautiful. It's about 75 degrees here, and rather humid. There isn't glass on the windows, so the ocean breeze just flows through the curtains. The hotel rooms are painted vibrant orange, yellow and green patterns. I'm sure that sounds a little extreme, but it's not flourescent, it's more just very cheerful and tropical-looking. The hallways, and stairwells of the hotel are painted with beautiful murals or Senegalese forests, animals, and beaches. I feel so lucky :)

I and Martina, the other student with me, met with COurtney, an assistant from the study abroad program and she's been showing us around today. We had breakfast at this little Patisserie where there must have been about 15 little kids clammering about waiting for their baguettes with chocolate. That's what we had for breakfast as well. It's so cute to hear the kids yelling in French at one another.

Dakar is a little less developed than I had expected, at least compared to our idea of a developed city in the US. The roads are that great, there's quite a bit of trash laying around, and there are a lot of beggars and people selling odds and ends around. I am surprised at the number of children I've seen begging. TOday, a little boy (maybe 6-7 years old) came up to me and asked me for something. I haven't exchanged money yet, so even if I wanted to give him something, I couldn't. Then, I saw a policeman shoo the little boy away from the area where he was begging.

I have never been more self-conscious in my life. I'm the white person I've seen since I got off th plane. I stick out like bird poop on a hat. And, of course I knew I would. But, it's strange when you actually do stick out.

Dakar is a beautiful place. It's full of palm trees, mango trees, geckos and lizards of all sorts, baobob trees (pronounced bowbob), and the most amazing fruit markets, which I fully intend to check out later.

More later

So LOng!!!

SO long friends and family!!! I'm getting on the plane to Dakar, Senegal. You should hear from me soon!!!!