SICAP Baobab

I live in SICAP Baobab and I walk to school... as well as most everywhere else I go. Even though the semester is finished, I probably walk to my school every day or every other day to use the internet, to fill my water bottle up, to ask job questions, to check the mail, or to use the bathroom before I get to my final destination. My house is in close proximity to the ACI Baobab Center (my school). It takes approximately 10 minutes to walk to there. If I am Senegalese the walk takes me 15 minutes. If I am American the walk takes me 7 minutes. In general I melange (mix) my identities and take about 10 minuets to walk. I think you would be surprised by the slow pace of walking here; the strolling is more of a meandering, a definite leisurely pace. Time is not money in Senegal, time does not function as it does in the United States. Also, though I did not drive around McMinnville much anyways, I do not plan on driving around there when I return. Americans are way too dependent on motor vehicles. Walking and biking will definitely be my modes of transportation along with public transportation, especially since it is not only better for the environment but for my health as well- I'll just pretend I do not have a car :)

Anyways, I live in the same quartier (neighborhood) as my school. Each quartier is different and yet there are the same cultural idiosyncrasies and similar communal interactions. Boutiques are everywhere; on every corner and basically in between every two houses there is a boutique - boutiques consist of crackers, sodas, phone cards, soaps, feminine products, French bread, fake hair for tresses (braiding), cigarettes... everything. The roads within the quartiers always have at least one or two people strolling among them as well as groups of people gathered on the sidewalks, in front of boutiques, in courtyards, or sometimes even in the middle of the street. I found from experience that it is completely acceptable for families to set up large tents in the middle of the road outside of their house for family fetes (parties) - often times there are parties or family gatherings for baby baptisms, funerals, weddings, holidays, or any grand occasion they might be having and the road is free access. My first time encountering the "road gatherings" was one time when I was walking home after class. I turned one of the corners within my path home and found myself starring at a large yellow tent with at least 50 people sitting under its shade. I was hoping the honking taxis or the maze of cars and taxis turning around to use a different route would help my attempt to be discrete as I tried to slide between the tent and the cement wall guarding the neighboring house but I didn't stand a chance - white, carrying a backpack, blond hair, and no traditional clothing on... I was spotted instantly. I was bombarded with Wolof greetings and French invitations to join in the festivities. I politely refused and eventually, after about 25 salutations made it out of there intact. Although it was slightly overwhelming I felt fantastic. I felt as if I was a member of the community. During our orientation here people explained to us that "your community is your protection" and even though I heard it, it did not really sink in until I experienced my community.

At times it used to be slightly overwhelming to walk in my quartier because I tend to like to go unnoticed when I am walking places and that in impossible here. I have learned to embrace it and now walking in my quartier is either no biggie or something I look forward to; once I cross the invisible line into SICAP Baobab I feel safe, I feel at home.

Senegalese culture is based on the ideals of community and reproduction is the main function within this society. Marriage and kids are priorities and your surrounding community, as well as your family, is your support system. Thus, greetings are a must. I talk to at least 10 people each time I leave my house whether or not it is my neighbors, the young men in the tiny shoe store next to my house or people passing by or people 5 streets away from my house... it is just what people do here, especially to those who stick out. In Dakar when you pass your neighbors or people in the street you greet them with "Asalaam malekum" or with a simple, "Bonjour! Ca va?" These greetings usually lead into more of the "how are you? how is your family" type conversations which are very common. The salutations here notions of respect and respect for the elders and for your community members and for people in general is important. Some of my favorite interactions are when the little kids walking home from school scream out in their tiny little voices, "Bonjour! Ca va!?" as they run towards me with their little hands out for the hand grab. I also love when I greet elderly people in the streets because they are so shocked I can speak the Wolof greetings and respond to all of them as they ask me questions... sometimes their face looks like they have seen a dinosaur or they just laugh or they keep asking questions until I have to say that I don't understand them because I only speak a little Wolof or "degguma... degg naa Wolof tutti, tutti, rekk."

Cheers,
Lacey

The Precious Babes

Awa

Mohamed

Jeanne

Boubacar

Days at the Pouponniere are going well! I feel as if I am slowly building rapport and each time I visit I get a little further into the Pouponniere family. The babies names are slowly becoming ingrained in my brain as well; believe it or not, it is very difficult to memorize 80 babies' names, especially when they are Senegalese names and Muslim names. The women at the orphanage talk to me more now and help me learn the names of the babies. They are also learning my name and making jokes with me. The Senegalese women who work there are very strong and animated; by strong, I mean emotionally and physically. They are efficient in every way, whether or not it is getting the babies to stop crying, to stop throwing something, to stop biting something or whether or not it is cleaning the babies, feeding the babies, or giving medication to the babies. It is fascinating to watch the work because they are carrying out a job and yet they are doing it with grace, love, and efficiency. I would just like to say that I am also slightly efficient at the orphanage; I never thought I could entertain 40 babies at a time or hold 7 babies at a time or have 10 babies crawling on me at the same time. I am passed the point of being overwhelmed and at the point where problem solving and multitasking comes natural. Although it is inevitable for me to be sad after spending time with the lovely babes, I am still thankful for the opportunity to give a little love to my new Pouponniere family.

HIV/AIDS

Last Wednesday I had a three hour lecture and seminar course on HIV/AIDS. The seminar was incredible; it was very informative as it took my mind to a sociological and anthropological level of bliss. The course commenced with the origins of the epidemic proceeding to information concerning the scope of the epidemic worldwide and then covered the epidemic specifically in reference to Africa, sub-Saharan Africa, and then Senegal.
A co-founder of the African Consultants International (ACI) - which is where my school program stems from and is the Dakar, Senegal branch of the ACI program - was a frontier in the efforts in battling the HIV/AIDS epidemic. She approached the epidemic with a sociological and anthropological framework transitioning the issue from a statistical, medical epidemic to a social epidemic. Thus, with her innovative efforts HIV/AIDS was transformed into being viewed as an epidemic effecting each socio-economic aspect of life (health, economy, family interactions, social networks, food production, etc.) and the methods of prevention, education, and solution finding have been highly influenced, involving positive, increased efforts against the HIV/AIDS epidemic.

I simply wanted to share a few facts, numbers, and information that was either shocking, mind-boggling, interesting, or a piece of information I was ignorant of before the seminar.

• HIV/AIDS began 27 years ago
• HIV/AIDS has caused over 25 million deaths
• the total number of people living with HIV is estimated at 33.4 million people globally
• it is estimated that there are nearly 7,500 new infections each day
• Africa holds 10% of the global population and is home to approximately 70% of all people living with HIV/AIDS
• more than three in four (76%) of AIDS deaths in the world in 2007 occurred in Sub-Saharan Africa, illustrating the unmet need for antiretroviral treatment in that part of the world despite significant advances
• Southern Africa alone accounts for 35% of people with HIV globally and one third (32%) of all new HIV infections and AIDS deaths in the world
• almost 61% of adults living with HIV in Sub-Saharan Africa, in 2007 were women.
• infection rates in young African women are far higher than in young men - rates among teenage girls are three to five times higher than in teenage boys (the biological make-up of the lining of the uterus is more susceptible to HIV/AIDS in younger females than older females as the uterus is in developmentally different stages)
• microbicides! - for the first time new HIV prevention research in 2009 reported efficacy in a microbicide controlled and initiated by women
• there is a concentrated epidemic with rates below 3% in the general populations but higher rates concentrated in certain groups with high risk behavior and in certain areas
• there are approximately 80,000 people living with HIV in Senegal - 9 women for every 5 men have HIV
  
• over 30,000 people have died of AIDS
• there are approximately 10,000 orphans as a result of HIV/AIDS

Well, there is a little bit of information - I hope you aren't feeling emotionally strained. I just think it is important for us to be aware of the items in this world that are affecting other human beings.

Wednesdays are my deep breathing days.

Head resting on the faded blue mat weaning from years of parentless babes’ first crawls, fingers pinching the teal fabric belonging to the nurses-jacket of the woman taking the babes’ temperatures, and little, squirmy, scarred feet wrapped in my hands, his gaze scrutinized my aura. I could feel his eyes deciphering my intentions, my character, my stability. He breathed me in and I let him. I tried with all my being to wordlessly assure him that I all I wanted to do was give him the love he deserves, even if it is only on every Wednesday for four hours, for four months.

I volunteer one day a week at the Pouponniere, an orphanage in the suburb of Dakar called Medina. It is a facility for infants between the ages of newborn and one year old. Abdu, the precious 2 year old I spoke of above is one of the 80-plus infants I spend time with on Wednesdays.

For a reson I have yet to find, Abdu is 2 years old and still staying in the orphanage... he is the oldest little one there. If it was economically possible I would take this two year old parentless child as my own. He is loud, rambunctious, snarky, completely in need of human touch, and devoid of life stability. I wish I could be his protector; however, since I am aware that it is not possible for me to be his or healthy for me to dwell on such matters, I simply give him extra hugs, kisses, and foot rubs when possible. Sometimes he acts like he does not want my hugs and foot-rubs but I know he does because he never moves away from me. There are times when I hug him and he holds his guard, not embracing me back, but he never refuses me. He pretends to not notice the kisses on his forehead until I walk away. The best times are when he gives into the love exuding from my caresses and lunges his tummy across my legs so I can rub his little back, or when I am rubbing one foot and then he sneaks his second little foot into my palm for more gentle baby-squeezes. The hardest times are when he reciprocates my embraces or when he sees a crying baby, walks over to them, and caresses their check before he tosses a toy at them to play with. The hardest times are when I have to stop my kisses and walk away from him standing in his white-metal crib yelling at me in a mixture of baby language and Wolof. I adore him. I adore all of them. The three Awa’s, the bubbly Boubacar, the three Ada’s, the smiley Mohamed, the giggly Amel, and the other babes’ whose names haven’t quite fit into my brain yet.

There is more to tell but for the moment I do not have the words, perhaps next time...

Youssou Ndour

Last night I saw Youssou Ndour in concert. If you are not familiar with him, I suggest you look him up online. He is very famous in Africa and ESPECIALLY in Senegal since he is Senegalese. He performs all over the world, including in the United States so that is neat. Although he is a musician by profession, he holds quite a bit of political power and he owns one of the six privately owned television stations in all of Senegal. Yes, his presence is highly noticed and scrutinized by the government. He is for the people, thus the people here adore him - and when I say people, I mean people of all ages.
The concert was a unique experience - off and on groups of men or groups of women broke out in traditional dance, forming circles or lines with the same rhythm/movement or creating dances where one person passes the "spotlight" to the next. The people were constantly making new friends and dancing with people they have never met before; that is simply because in this culture everyone is friends with everyone, not just at concerts. I have many friends all over the area I live in and my Senegalese friends are constantly chatting with new people when we go places; the lifestyle here is based on community, thus, life is calculated and judged on communal strength. Back to the concert, it was lovely to turn around and see a group of 3 or 4 men grinning and dancing back and forth with each other as if they were communicating like family. The dancing here is a form of communication; it is connection building. For example, last night I went to the concert with three other Linfield ladies and then two Senegalese men. We met one other young Senegalese man and he joined us in dancing, the boys danced together, he danced with us girls, and then after the concert he came to eat with us, chatting it up and exchanging phone numbers. We danced with others but he stuck with us the most.
The music itself was fantastic. The musicians are very talented and the vocals were excellent - there is definitely a different sound to the vocals, or obviously music in general here. Also, the drumming was incredible. The beats make you feel soooo good and because I did not grow up with the dancing styles here the dances feel unique to me. It is fun to dance the Senegalese style - at the clubs there is a mixture of Senegalese music with the traditional beats and then other hip-hop/rap, a lot of it American of French so it is fun to switch between the dancing styles. The concert was definitely pure Senegalese.
Well, there is a tid-bit on music culture - here are a few pictures and a couple of videos - if the sound on the videos is not good I apologize, but at least you can see what it looked like at the concert. Oh me goodness, I almost forgot! After the concert we went to eat at this neat bar/night cafe place AND I actually ate chicken by choice, chewed it, and loved it. It was the first time I actually enjoyed the meat itself; it was a perfectly white, fresh, flavorful barbecued chicken breast. I doubt this will happen again though, I am very picky with the meat I eat :)

My girlfriend Jenna and me.

Jenna, Ndiaw (my friend Arielle's neighbor and nice guy who helps us get places, shows us around, and has random connections to games, concerts, etc. here in Dakar), Me

JJ, Arielle, Jenna, Me

Youssou Ndour

Video of a an incredible, crazy dancer - I didn't get him dancing much because I was so distracted by it and watched instead of took videos :)

Oh my goodness, yesterday was one month!

We visited a few other universities and study centers in order to familiarize ourselves with other available resources - there are computer labs and libraries at other learning facilities we can use. My friend Jenna took this picture of us: Avalon, Me, Arielle, JJ, and Samba (he is our guide and fantastic resource here; he takes us places when we need help or if we are uncomfortable to go somewhere alone).

My friend Jenna took this picture as well - we went simming at the olympic sized swimming pool here in Dakar. In this photo: Me, Jenna, JJ

There were massive diving platforms - we did not get to use them because we were not there during the diving hours but at least we got to swim and watch the kids dance to the loud music playing!


We, the Linfield Students and students from Kalamazoo went to Goree Island for a day so visit the maison des esclaves and a few other museums. The beach was gorgeous and there is a very unique culture on the island... like... well it is a mixture of westernized tourism, cultural heritage pride, and day-to-day life activities.

Me with our three guides - they are young women the center hire to help with orientation year after year. Here we are eating lunch while staring at the beautiful ocean.



maison des eclaves


This is a snap of a really neat mural on building


Goree Island


Last weekend I went with a group of friends to the beach in an area of Dakar called Yoff - we rented an apartment for two nights and just relaxed for a 2 day vacation. This was the lovely view from our balcony.

Tid-bits of Dakar

Our lovely tree and my host sister playing on our swing.

Just a bit of silliness really - I was laying on my bed and this is what I see out of my door

My bed.

Me on the second night - I have bronzed A LOT since this picture.

Before I get to that goat sacrifice I feel the need to share some tid-bits of randomness with you. Although there is definitely a routine in life here, NO DAY IS EVER THE SAME as another day.

• The first time I used the bathroom at my house I got stuck inside of it. I could not open the door. I stood inside panicking, racking my brain on how I was going to shout or explain in French that I was locked in. I was so scared because there is only a key from the inside. Eventually while I was fidgeting with the lock someone yanked open the door. Thank you Pape (hosty-pop). While chuckling he animatedly explained that I simple needed to use a little gerth when opening it.
• I do not chew my food. Well, that is a partial lie. I do not chew the meat I eat… I swallow it. I know, it is terrible but... I can't chew it, I will gag. There is simply tooooooo much meat. It is especially difficult for me when I do not know what type of meat I am eating or that the sheep lying in front of me in delicious sauce had been standing next to me breathing the same air 4 hours earlier. However, I would say I am doing really well for a vegetarian of over 5 years before this trip.
• I love the night life here – I also did not know that it was humanly possible for men to move their bodies the way they do here! Ha ha ha!! It is fantastic to watch.
• Sometimes random women ask me if I need my clothes washed. I used to be slightly confused but figured out that they offer to wash them assuming to be paid if they do; it is job they are asking for. Women ask many people here because money and work are a struggle to find so here Americans, Europeans, or most anyone are great people to ask. I politely decline.
• Fanta and Coca Cola here are the best! No high-fructose corn syrup? Yes please.
• Sometimes people who visit Africa during the rainy season get terrible allergies... I am one of those people.
• I was taking a late night walk with friends and saw the first homeless child sleeping in the bushes. His pillow as a large empty tomato sauce can. The image broke my heart; I wanted to go put his head in my lap and take away the loneliness that was exuding from his sleeping body.
• The flavor or the food here is incredible! Delicious! I am served sauteed onions basically every day and I cannot get enough of them. The food dishes all have rich seasonings and are delightful... as you can tell, the meat is just a little difficult for me to handle.
• A social norm with taxis is that the drivers sometimes make noises, "pss, pss" out of the window or honk if they are available. Being a white girl, EVERY single taxi honks at me if not once, then twice. During orientation sessions we discussed how there are definitely other intentions for some of the honking...
• I secretly have dance parties in bed under my mosquito net – my family has no idea I can actually dance :)
• My host father is a HUGE TALKER. One of the ways I discovered that I am part of the family are my non-verbal interaction with my siblings. The kids are constantly motioning to me when our dad is BS-ing.They motion behind his back when he is wrong or lying. It is hilarious; he is innocently talkin’ it up but it is fantastic when the kids stick their little finger out and wiggle it back it forth at me while he is still talking – it is incredibly difficult for us not to bust-out in laughter in front of him. Words are most definitely not always needed in life.
• I have conversations with random people in the streets every day. A huge cultural aspect of daily life is the greeting exchange. It is very important to say hello and greet people in Wolof, taking the time to ask how they are as well as ask about their family. I talk to random men and women most everyday; because I am obviously limited in speaking the Wolof language, once the Wolof exchange is finished we chat a bit in French. It is wonderful language practice and I feel great after most conversations because the people here are genuinely interested in speaking to me.
• I did not believe the people at the Center when they told us that physical affection, as in a smack or punch in the arm or a nuggy or head pat can create a bond with family members… well… they were correct. I have punched my brothers a few times in the arm and now they talk to me a heck of a lot more. I am more of the loving type though so usually I pat them on the head or do fake nuggies.
• There are patches of sand everywhere here. There are also piles and piles and piles of shells in random places. I mean Dakar is a small peninsula but I do not live near the beach and my house is surrounded by sand.
• I am in hip-hop, R&B, and RAP heaven. The consistent dance beats in my mind help keep a happy heart.
  
• I hand wash all of my undergarments – I find it quite enjoyable.

That is all for now. Loves.

Pictures of the street school

They were definitely pulling on my neck and my arms so it was a little tricky to take their photo.

She was beautiful. This portable had holes everywhere, I was a little nervous when I sat inside.

They loved pictures. They giggled so much when they saw this one.

These two adorable boys wanted me to take a lot of pictures with them. The little boy in the red walked around with me holding me hand for the majority of the time he was with us.

This man is an instructor there. He asked me to take this photo of him and the poster.

A classroom is not classroom without a tree growing through it.

A wooden chalk board.

This is a classroom. There is no room for class with the tables covered in random items, books, dusts, eating utensils etc. The mosquito net was a good indication that people sleep inside of the room as were the items of clothing and scattered, tattered shoes.

These were the desks the little girls were sitting at when we arrived - at least 30 years old.

There is not a great waste-management program here - there are random garbage piles throughout different quartiers or down-town sections. Here is the one near where we visited. However, I must say that I have never lived with or seen such sustainable practices in daily life as there is here. The daily routine of having a home (cooking, laundry, taking care of kids, cleaning, etc.) probably results in 1/5 of the waste in homes in America.

We walked in behind the big yellow truck in this picture. Behind it is an alley-ish road that leads to different little living sections, vendors etc. but it is all dirt and no man-made roads.

Street Schools

We visited a "street school" last week. Basically "street school" refers to schools that are either literally taught in the street because of the lack of facilities or schools that are taught in random, run-down portables or at ancient wooden desks behind houses etc. We learned that the education system is in need of reform. Many people teaching children are not certified teachers, simply volunteers or random people recruited within the community. Thus, many children are not taught correctly and taught incorrect items - for example with writing, improper rules are taught etc. This is not to say that the entire education system is faulty here. In actuality, there are very high-standards within the education system that require dedication and great intelligence. Those who excel in school are provided with greater opportunities. The education system in Dakar is slightly difficult to comprehend not because it seems as if there are two extremes: either students are discriminated against because they are not bright/qualified enough to meet the high standards, or students are not given proper educational experiences. I have not quite figured it out though because there are quite a few universities, colleges, and learning centers here as well schools of all different levels - education is such an important and prideful aspect of life here and yet there are many issues connected with it that are consistently discussed.
Our Linfield group took a van to an impoverished area in the city of Dakar to visit a school and speak with the children and their instructor. The children were precious as well as slightly forward. They wanted their picture taken over and over and held our hands and arms like we were treasure. The times that were most awkward were when the kids wanted us to buy their parents items for sell or when we were walking in small alleyways between houses being shown different food stands etc. I simply felt bad for being there. It was a slightly overwhelming experience because I did not want to take pictures and be the "American" coming into the "slums" to take pictures of the "poverty stricken children" but... our guide, the instructor man, and the children insisted on us taking pictures. I only took pictures in the school areas and not of the people living, working, or sleeping in the many nooks and crannies of the community-maze. Here is a glimpse of the experience - note: some of them are blurry and a little off because the little-ones were pulling on my arms and squirming about as I took them. Also, as a concluding thought - I believe I might volunteer at this "school" (even though it is difficult for me to call it an educational space) once in a while as a decent human act even though I doubt my presence will provide much help to the children's future - maybe I can simply be a friend.

Les bebes et ma petite soeur

This is my little cousin Fatima - her sister Ajou took the picture but it was slightly difficult considering I had the strong of my camera around my wrist to prevent a breaking event. Ajou loves taking pictures, she is quite the photographer.

From Left to Right: cousin Ajou, sister Marianna, cousin Fatima, moi.

Baby sitting and validated cultural acceptance - I'd say I'm part of the fam clan!

Setting: I was sitting in one of the bedrooms with Marianna (hsis) and two little cousins who are precious girls of 2 1/2 and 4. We were watching a channel equivalent to Animal Planet while playing "peek-a-boo" with blankets. My hmom came in and we had the following exchange in French:

N'Diaye (hmom) - "Lacey are you leaving anywhere?
Moi - "No."
N'Diaye - "You are staying here for a while?"
Moi - Yes, I am not leaving, I do not have anything else to do today."
N'Diaye - "Good, I am leaving with the girl's parents. I'll be home later. Au revoir!

That was it, she was gone... and I was home alone watching over three little girls who spoke two languages, one which I understand about 10 phrases in. No fear, all went really well. By the time the parents came back I had played tons of games, had photo shoots (the 4 year old loved taking pictures which was a bit difficult since the little one wouldn't let me put her down for the majority of the time), and I had rocked both babes to sleep. I was pro. The girls were so much fun - they talked slow for me so that was absolutely adorable. The 4 year old kept touching my face and playing with my hair; she would start on my forehead and rub down to my chin then to my neck and up my scap playing with my hair. Precious. Also, it was hilarious because before I rocked them each to sleep I was sitting in the living room watching TV with Dany while both the little ones were climbing on and off my lap. There was a point where I was holding both in my lap and they were pushing eachother fighting for my "chest space" to rest their heads. Dany just laughed at me. It was hilarious and somehow, though it seems impossible still, I worked out a deal to hold one at a time and that is how I worked my magic in putting them to sleep. Wonderful moments.

There are also plent of random moments here in Dakar. The moment I had gotten the 4yr old to sleep two large men with a large suitcase each entered the house followed by a petite Belgin girl. I had no idea there was a girl coming to live with us. Basically a long story short, she 22, from Belgum, and not good with different cultures. She was very nice but only lasted THREE nights at our house! She moved out on the 4th day! I came home from class and my host mom said she left and now the kids were asking her iof I was going to leave! Her and I found it humorous and talked about how I loved it here and how I was different. Also, my host father talked to me about it and just does not understand the girl. We have had great discussions since then about cultural integration and the reasonb behind living in another country as well as the test of personal strength. Basically the family told me that they appreciate me and I think that was probably one of the greatest moments I have had here - it feels amazing to be validated through mixed languages and awkward experiences, especially since I was never really sure before then how they felt about me. Side note - the kids are talking to me a lot now and asking me to do more things; they are precious and still rockin' out to Justin Beiber and Rihanna! haha!

I must leave for lunch but don't you worry, next time I will teach you all about sheep sacrifices and naming ceremonies! Love to all!

Never ending hop-scotch games and adolescent boys who love Rihanna - qui est ma famille!

The day I was dropped off at my host family’s house was probably one of the most nerve-racking days I’ve ever had. It was Monday, the day after we flew into the country. The morning began with an informative introduction to the ACI Baobab Center with the director/co-creator of the ACI Baobab facility. Then we toured around a nearby neighborhood in order to familiarize ourselves with the surroundings. One great thing about this program is that they have us find landmarks wherever we go so if we ever get lost we know how to describe to a taxi where to take us or find our way on our own through these landmarks. We found out how free the women really are behind scenes during our lunch around 1pm and then around 4pm we had a family orientation session. Our housing coordinator discussed the typical cultural/common sense "dos and don'ts" and answered questions we had (there were a couple students extremely nervous who asked quite a few nitty-gritty questions that were a little too situational... it was amusing). I was not nervous until the 5 o'clock hour. This was when all 5 of us Linfield Students hopped into a van to be dropped off one-by-one at our houses. I was last. At first I thought it was a good thing but by the time we had dropped off the other 4 girls and were on the way to my house I was shaking. I had no idea where I was in comparison to the Center because we had gone down so many little roads into different directions and into different neighborhoods. I was sure I was going to forget the Wolof greetings or the little French I knew. I thought I wouldn’t' be able to pronounce anyone's names and most of all I was afraid that my host parents wouldn't speak much French. I WAS WRONG. I have a very nice family and everything went well, my Wolof greetings included! When I arrived my 17year old brother (or he is 19, I cannot figure it out yet) shyly greeted me with a slight glance, a soft "Bonjour," and a light hand grab as he quickly took my suitcase to my room. Led through an outside hallway into a courtyard with a huge, beautiful tree, I was greeted by my host father and mother. They were very nice and my father showed me my room as well as gave me a tour to the restroom, the visiting area, and the living room area. I was given my own set of keys to the front gate, my room, and the living room so that is great. My room is off of the kitchen separate from the house; the setup is perfect considering it allows me to do my own things as well as be part of the family. I love the courtyard - the courtyard is where I get to write my letters and watch the kids roller blade, swing on the tree, and bike around in circles dodging the close-lines and the sheep. Yes, I almost forgot, we have two sheep that look like goats to me.

My family is amusing - I have three brothers, Dany (17 or 19), Moctar (14), Mohamed (12), and one sister, Marianna (9). They are a ball of joy. Definitely a group of adolescents with sporadic mood swings. However, they are fun and have spunky humors. The boys LOVE Rihanna and sing her music all of the time! It is hilarious, especially when I am sitting in my room with the door open and can hear them across the way singing in high-pitched tones or hear them singing along with the TV. It is cute. Marianna LOVES hopscotch. I taught her how to play and now she asks me to play every day which is fun, but also hot; I start sweating after 3 hops in this heat. Basically my host-siblings go back and forth between our house and their neighbor's house as well as hang out glued to the TV or venturing around the courtyard doing random rollerblading tricks/bike tricks/jump-rope things. My host mom works diligently all of the time. I think I have only seen her sit in front of the TV three times without work in her hands. My host father is a funny guy - he walks around all of the time dragging his feet so you can hear him a mile away. He does not work at the moment because he does something in the fishing industry and it is not the season so... he roams around or ventures out... I'm not really sure. They are all a bit quite when it comes to me. There is a bit of a language barrier but it is getting better and the more time I spend there the more they talk to me, include me, and make jokes with me. It is a nice process. Well, that is my family! I hang out mostly with Marianna, playing games, or with Dany because he talks with me the most. He is at the age where music, cameras, computers, and anything different than home is "cool". Also, there is this one tela-novela translated into French that we watch every night... it is so good! I am now glued to the cheesy, racy, drama. Well, off to a soccer match! Tout à l'heure

Pokey fish teeth

I arrived at the Dakar airport around 4am on Sunday, June 12. We had absolutely no idea where to go or who was picking us up. All we knew was that we had to pick up our bags and find a person we were assuming would be holding a piece of paper that said something in the nature of “Linfield.” I was given a glimpse of the beauty within the Senegalese culture Stepping off of the plane I was instantly overcome by sweet, thick, warm oxygen. It was as if Africa had been waiting to fill my lungs with the gift of Senegalese air.… yes, I felt slightly romantic as I stepped off of the plane, especially since after many years of desiring to travel to Africa I was doing it. I made my way from the plane down the stairs and hopped onto a large blue buss used to cart people from the planes to the actual airport. A woman garbed in a shimmery-bright-pink-blue floraled- traditional female Senegalise outfit. Her matching headdress sat promptly upon her as she offered me the seat next to her. I did not feel out of place though because there was a middle-aged American couple in front of me and in front of them there was an English national Rugby coach speaking with a young Senegalese man. Thus far, I was not exactly the minority but that changed as soon as I stepped off of the bus into the customs area.
While standing in line near the customs desk I simply took in the beautiful clothes and couples that walked by or stood next to me - even without traditional clothing on, ALL of the Senegalese travelers were dressed fashionably flawless in their nice jeans, colorful shirts, frighteningly white shirts, snazzy shoes, watches/jewelry, and pretty bags. Even the guards holding medium sized guns were pleasant to look at in their bright blue-camo uniform. (I said medium sized guns because compared to Guatemala and Mexico, the guards here are pleasant looking and tend to have smaller, less intimidating guns. I like it.) I was first to reach the desk to get my passport checked. The man helping me greeted me with a huge smile and proceeded to compliment the shell necklace I have tied around my neck… lightly put, I was already nervous because no one else had been smiling or talking to us (especially the TALL armed guards walking around as well as the one standing behind me) so when this man who held the power to allow me into the country started speaking randomly about my necklace in an accent my ear was not accustomed to I was slightly shocked. It put me at ease a bit though. Next, avoiding the men who wanted to help us for a small sum of money, we found our bags and then met the random person from the Baobab Center who was holding a piece of paper with “Linfield” written on it just like we had hoped. From the airport we took an amusing bus ride to an apartment where we were to rest and sleep until we were picked up on MONDAY. We had about 30hours to do do…well…your guess is as good as mine because we had no idea. Exhaustedly delusional and completely unaware of our whereabouts except that we were “near” the Baobab Center, we slept until breakfast at 8am.
I woke up for breakfast super sweaty. My body had not adjusted to the humidity and I slept hard so the result was sweaty crevices and ultra curly hair. Anyways, breakfast in Senegal consists of tea or instant coffee and French bread. The bread is usually accompanied by some sort of spread – the spreads vary from place to place but a few options I have had are butter, cheese spread (Laughing Cow which you can get in any American store), fruit nectar, or peanut-chocolate sauce that resembles Nutella. Speaking of Nutella, in the super markets here in Dakar, Nutella is sold… it tempts me each time I walk down the aisles.
After much confusion and discussion, we decided as a group to find an internet-café nearby since we were told by the Center that there was one close by in a letter from the Center. The café ended up being exactly next door so we paid for an hour’s worth of internet to send our families the “ I am alive and safe” email. We decided to be adventurous and took a walk around the block but after careful consideration decided it was more beneficial to for us to stay inside, rest, and not get lost in a country where the majority of the language spoke we do not yet understand. Side note – in case you weren’t aware, the “official” language in Dakar is French but that is only because the country was colonized by France. In general, the Senegalese speak their native tongues in their homes, to the elderly, when greeting people, and in general day to day conversation with people in the community. French is spoken in school, in educational programs/organizations, official documents, among/between businesses, and with other countries. Thus, while I am here I will be taking intensive Wolof in order to more fluently speak with the Senegalese people I meet as well as more efficient understand/learn the culture here.
Lunch was a daunting task for me but, I must say that I did swell. I ate the lovely fish you see in the pictures above. I apologize if this is culturally rude but to my surprise the fish was quite tasty… I was expecting something far less delightful, especially since I would have considered myself a picky eater then. The fish went really well with the rice and deliciously spiced sautéed onions. However, because I was a newb at eating fish with their heads still attached, I did prick my finger on the teeth and scare the begeebers out of myself. It was hilarious; the girls definitely got a good laugh from me.

Ba beneen. (Until next time.)

I am sweating profusely... oh, and loving life!

Bonjour from Dakar! As many know I am currently studying abroad in Senegal, Africa for the fall semester of my senior year at Linfield College. In thanks to my lacking ability to keep in touch with those in my life, I am entering upon the world of blogging. I must admit, I do feel a bit of pressure to be profound and sound amazing in this blog. Thus, I feel it is my duty to be upfront with you in saying that yes, I will attempt to be entertaining, meaningful, and interesting but at the same time I am simply seeking to share my life abroad with anyone who is willing to read my words. My intention for this blog is to provide people with glimpses of my life experiences. One delightfully silly aspect of blogging is that I feel as if I am connecting with people… even though I have no idea who, or if anyone, will read these posts.
Just a heads up on two items – When I refer to time I am speaking in Senegal time so if you want to know what you were doing while I was doing whatever I write about or want to know what time I post my blurbs etc., subtract 7hours :D So it begins...