Words in Snapshots

Lately I have not known which words to share, spread, or contemplate. My mind, well our minds I am sure, are constantly processing and reflecting. There is plenty I would like to say, I simply have a difficult time choosing the items to put into this little page of mine. Given this difficulty, I chose an outlet other than words. Here is a small selection from the many pictures I took in Senegal. I thought perhaps a few photos containing snapshots from my perspectives might say enough this time. To see them larger just click on them. I hope you enjoy, cheers!

Les Petits Cochons... oops, Les Petits Moutons

I thought I would share what I deem an amusing story:

I play with little kids' toes. I think children's feet are adorable and well, children's feet are less gross than adult feet... I think of them as much smaller, softer, and having less time to get nasty foot diseases. Anyways, tangent aside, in Dakar when I was at my house playing with my little cousins or when I was at the Pouponniere (orphanage for babies newborn to 2years old) or when I was at the SOS Village des Enfants (orphanage for children 2years and up), I played with the children's precious little feet. Often times I would play the "Little Pigs" rhyming game where you deem each toe a pig and tell a story until you reach the pinky-toe where you jumped into tickling time. I had always thought I was spiffy for implementing a fun activity I had enjoyed as a child, you know, sharing a little of my culture while practicing my French skills. However, I quickly, and awkwardly I might add, learned how to appropriately alter the rhyme to be more culturally acceptable. What exactly does that mean? Well, I was in a country where over 90% of the population is Muslim, which essentially means that no one eats pork and pigs tend to be thought of as... well... nasty creatures.

One evening I was with my little cousins, Hadijou (age 5) and Fatima (age 3), and my little sister Marianne (age 9) and I did the rhyming game with Hadijou. Fatima loved what I had just done and begged me to play the game with her next while Hadijou still sat in giggles. When I looked over at Marianne, it was a completely different story. Marianne looked at me as if I were completely off my rocker, as if I had said something really nasty. I asked her why she looked at me that way. She didn't tell me, she simply shrugged her shoulders and giggled at me. I asked her again. She continued to giggle. I asked her a third time and well... she told me that pigs were gross, that she had never and would never eat pork, and that her cousin ate pork sometimes but only because she was Christian. Nevertheless, my little sister thought it was nasty to play a game where your toes became pigs. I rougi (blushed)... I cracked up... and I decided from that moment on I needed to slightly alter my methods playing with childrens' feet.

From that moment on, I changed the "Little Pigs" rhyme to the "Little Sheep" rhyme - I thought it was ingenious considering sheep play a significant role in Senegalese family life and that sheep meat is a favorite in Senegal. Thus, "Les Petits Cochons" became "Les Petits Moutons."

A good spoon can relieve a heavy heart.

I miss Senegalese peanuts; I miss eating them boiled with my Senegalese family, I miss cracking hundreds of them to be used for cooking in traditional lunch dishes, I miss buying roasted ones from the lady on the street corner across from my school who always talked to me in Wolof, and I miss eating raw peanuts while passing the time away drinking tea and playing cards with loved ones. Basically, I crave Senegalese peanuts everyday. Yes, I realize it is silly to allow myself to feel strongly upset at the lack of peanuts in my life considering I obviously cannot have them at this point in time and obviously I do not need them to survive. However, I think that the environment of me peanut eating is a large factor to the emptiness I sometimes experience. Thus, in attempt to accept this at times dreadful situation I have created an alternative routine. I go over to Hilda and Katie's apartment to subdue my craving. I walk through the door saying hello as I head straight to the silverware draw to grab a spoon. I proceed to walk over to the food shelf where I grab the tub of mixed nuts Hilda faithfully creates thanks to the bountifulness of Roth's bulk section. I then walk over to the counter where I drop my belongings on the floor next to my feet and then lean against that black speckled counter as I begin to munch away on spoonfuls of the salty goodness of a homemade nut and berry mix while I inquire about the lovely ladies' days.

I believe it is important to counter negative aspects in life with positive aspects. Though there may not be a positive counter part or an equivalent solution to the heavy problems, stresses, sadnesses or whatever it is plaguing our hearts, when we cannot simply overlook these items in a moments effort something needs to be done. In the context of our own lives, our own grand, little pieces in this vast world, providing ourselves as well as others with positive alternatives to sadness and heaviness can provide a cheerier day. I say this because as I continue to struggle my way through re-orienting into America, I have found that the little moments I cherish are what keep me dancing through the winding transitions of life whether or not these moments be little brother's 2nd birthday parties, skype dates, Mascarade parties, late night walks, reading old letters, exploring music, or... eating mixed nuts and berries with a spoon.