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.)