This and That

Yesterday was a bit of a break. I cancelled my morning classes (well, postponed them til next week) so that I could go to the U.S. Embassy and get some things taken care of. It worked well, since my professor had to take a trip yesterday anyway so this allowed him to leave earlier. However, when I was on the way to the embassy I found out that Citizen Services is closed on Friday mornings. So, I went back to bed for a bit. I then went back to the center where I take classes around 11:30am, thinking that I'd work for a bit and then hopefully get my class started an hour early, so that I could leave early and say goodbye to the Danish girl I live with, cause she left for Denmark last night. Well, it turns out that I was not on the schedule for yesterday afternoon, and I have no idea why. But I had no classes at all No one had made me aware of this, and I still don't know why my afternoon classes were cancelled. Many of the professors were gone, but my afternoon one was there, they just assigned him to a different student for the day. Strange. Anyway, I ended up working on things until about 4pm. It was nice to have a day to work at my own pace, not to mention sleep in, and I bought my own lunch instead of going home. It was a really nice change of pace.

Leila, the Danish girl, left last night to go back home. So now I'm the only student in the house. It doesn't feel much different from normal, because she had been gone traveling for the past two weeks.

Last night I went to a Demb Ak Tey, a traditional Senegalese dance performance. It was called a ballet, but of course did not resemble ballet at all… except it was dancing with a storyline involved. It took place in Casamance, the southern region of Senegal. The entire performance was in Wolof, except for the introduction and the closing which were in French. It was incredible! The way that they danced was incredibly energetic. Their bodies were constantly moving, pulsating, jerking, jumping, flipping. Africans have a way to dance that is so different from any type of American or European dance. The movements of the entire arms and feet are just as much a part of the dance, if not more so, than the core. There were drummers on stage the entire time. All of the music was drumming or drumming and singing. I was tired simply watching them. Some of the storyline included a traditional wrestling match, death, and village life. At the beginning of the performance, during the introduction, the man in charge said that someone from the percussion troop had died within the past two weeks. But that in Africa, you don't weep for the dead... you dance for the dead, and you sing for the dead. So that's what they did. The picture of the percussionist was up at the back of the stage during the entire performance. The performance took place outdoors, downtown at the French Cultural Center.

Afterwards, I went out with friends to grab a bite to eat. The majority of the restaurants downtown are owned by Lebanese people, no matter what type of food is served. But a friend of mine was craving falafel, so we ended up going to a fast-food type place with chwarma, hummous, falafel, and whatnot. Except, they had run out of falafel, which is a terrible disappointment. But I had a chwarma sandwich and it was delicious!

Today, I went to a new beach with friends of mine. New to me, not new to Dakar. It's called "Secret" and is very very small. It's actually designated as a surfing beach because the waves can be amazing sometimes. There were very limited waves today, and thus not many surfers. There's hardly any sand, just lots of rocks and sea urchins and such when you're trying to make your way to the water… but we made it. We swam out a ways and actually ended up swimming up the coast to another beach. It was sooo much fun. We were between the two points of the peninsula to the West, one where there is a lighthouse, and the other which is the Western-most point in Africa.

I ended the night at Just 4 You, which is a nightclub type thing near the University in Dakar. They always have live music, and it's more of a sit down outside at a table and order a drink while listening to music and dancing if you'd like kind of place. The music was Orchestre Baobab, which is a well known music group here who has performed in Europe as well. They were really good, and played a lot of music that sounded more suited for Cuba than Senegal. But it was wonderful!

Poverty

Every morning after I talk with my French professor for awhile, he gives me a topic for a "petit paragraph." Yesterday morning my paragraph was on the topic of poverty. He told me I should write about poverty in the United States and any poverty I've seen in Senegal. He told me that it was a shame that I haven't been to a poor country yet, and said maybe Costa Rica cold count as that. I found it fascinating that he didn't consider Senegal a poor country. Sure, there is poverty in Costa Rica, but it's not like the poverty in Dakar. And there is definite poverty in Dakar and throughout Senegal. I can't walk to class without someone begging me for money… children, women with babies, etc. Even the man who works at the corner store that I always go to has a habit of asking me for money.

In the classroom/office where I have French class in the afternoon, there is a world map directly above the desk where I sit with my professor. My professor looked up at the map yesterday and fell silent. After a few moments, he said "Look, Senegal is the center of the world." On the map he has, Senegal IS conveniently located relatively in the middle. He went on to talk about how because it's the center of the world, it attracts people from all over the world. He said people from every continent come to Senegal. There were approximately 1.5 million residents in Senegal at the time of independence (approx. 1960), but now there are 12 million. He said that the people who came from all over the world brought poverty with them. Senegal was never a poor country and it never had poverty. Not until 1980. But now it exists here.

We talked about China and the influence of the Chinese on Africa, which was a big part of my senior seminar research for International Studies. Zator, my professor, talked about how China can make things very cheaply. He then went on a tangent about sheep in Senegal, how they're everywhere, but that they are very expensive. After a long pause, he said, in French, "Perhaps the Chinese will find a way to make cheap sheep." He then proceeded to almost fall off the back of his chair and laughed for quite some time. He then gave me a high five and we got back to what we had actually been working on... reading a newspaper article.

I thought it might be interesting to share some basic statistics about Senegal with you. Brought to you by CIA World Factbook (https://www.cia.gov/library/publications/the-world-factbook/).

Median age: 18.7 years

Infant Mortality Rate: 60.15 deaths/1,000 live births

Life Expectancy at Birth: 56.69 years

Total Fertility Rate: 5 children born/woman

Literacy:

Total population: 39.3%

Male: 51.1%

Female: 29.2%

Unemployment rate: 48%

Population Below Poverty Line: 54%

PICTURES!

You've waited long enough...

http://iwu.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2025751&l=b27de&id=41600114

Phone Number

Feel free to call me at any time... preferably not between the hours of 6pm and 3am (Eastern and Central US times), as that corresponds to my sleep pattern... at least during the week. If calling from the US:

001.221.77.706.18.31

Rotary and Television

The fourth Rotary Cultural Ambassadorial Scholar has arrived… so we're gaining force and beginning to take Dakar by storm. Today, I started looking into the possibility of us helping out with a school lunch program that was started by prior Rotary Scholars for poor kids in a neighborhood near us. I'm also interested in starting a "pen pal" program, even if just until the end of the year, for a French class in the States and an English class here in Dakar. One of the main things I'm supposed to do as a Cultural Scholar is to build cultural understanding between my home and host countries, and I think this would be a neat way to do that while letting students practice what they're already studying. How many Americans have African pen pals? How many Americans can point out Senegal on a map? I think it could be really neat, so if any of you know a French teacher that who might be interested in getting one of their classes involved, let me know.

The past few nights I've spent time watching television with my Senegalese friends. Last night, what caught my interest was music videos. We watched a handful of Wolof rap videos produced here in Dakar. They were all so very different from the rap videos in the United States which typically showcase immense wealth, or violence, or women with limited clothing. One of the videos we watched was for a song about a domestic dispute. A man and woman got in a fight, she served him his dinner and he threw it on the ground. They then walked into the courtyard of their house and start circling each other like a wrestling match. Very soon, all the men and women of the neighborhood show up, the women behind the woman and the men behind the man. They're all cheering on their respective competitor. Eventually, the man throws a punch at the wife but he misses and manages to lose his balance and fall into a bucket of water. The wife grabs a club and heads in his direction to slug him, but when she reaches him and holds the club up high, the women intervene and keep her from attacking him. The song is all about how relationships shouldn’t be violent and uncomfortable like that. The video would cut between scenes of the domestic fight, and the rapper surrounded by women all dressed the same (and fully dressed) who were dancing and singing the chorus.

Song #2: It showed a man and women arriving downtown Dakar together, holding each other's hands, sitting down on a bench together. Then the man got up to go buy a snack, and a white foreign man sat down next to the woman and started making conversation with her. The woman left with the white foreigner, so when the man returned she was nowhere to be found. He runs around Dakar searching for her, and finally finds her arm-in-arm with the foreign guy. He then tries to start a fight with the foreign guy, but the foreign guy gets scared and runs away. The man then brings the woman back home and starts asking her why she did what she did, and then leaves her alone in the room and puts a dog at the door to guard it. They make up, and in the end all is good. The entire video is absolutely hilarious and is meant to be comedic. The guy is really goofy, and my friends told me that all his music videos are funny like that.

I've also learned a lot about traditional wrestling. I watched it a bit last night and a bit today. The best way to describe it I think would be between sumo wrestling and American wrestling. The men wear short tight biker shorts, with a diaper-type piece of clothing over it. The men are also in extremely good shape. They don't look huge and built up, just very very in shape, aside from their thigh muscle which are massive. Each match begins by each "warrior" doing a dance with the people who accompany them. The actual competition begins kind of like how someone who isn't very politically correct would describe a fight between girls… almost like they're trying to scratch each other, but more like flailing their arms at one another. But then one gets hold, and that all changes. The objective is to get the opponent to the ground. If their head touches, they lose. If their butt touches, they lose. If the whole side of their body touches, they lose. My friends say it's very complicated, but that's what I gathered. And instead of the referees announcing the decisions to everyone at once, they tell one player, then the other, and then everyone else. The players are allowed to grab hold of each other's minimal clothing. They definitely have moves, a mixture of wrestling and judo. I'm not one who likes wrestling, but this is incredible to watch.

Cows

Tonight, I walked out of my home to come here to the telecenter... there were 5 cows in my front yard. I remind you that I live on a major street. But they're there, sleeping now, and they scared my host sister to death. I have no idea who they belong to, nor does my host family. Their horns are about a foot long, and when I took a picture of them, two started butting heads. Oh, Dakar.

It has been awhile...

It has been too long since I've written! This week, my classes continued as normal. Tuesday evening I had a meeting with Rotary where my host counselor presented the project to the entire club for discussion, the project of building a maternity clinic in a village outside of Dakar. I received more details about the entire project and saw the pictures of the site again. In addition to the two Rotary clubs here in Senegal working on it, there is a Japanese corporation involved, and individual donors. It's quite a large project, but it is obviously much needed in the area.

I've managed to get a ridiculous amount of mosquito bites on my legs. I think I got them yesterday morning when I was waiting for my class to begin. I'm quite annoyed about it. I got a lot of bites around my ankles when I first arrived, and the occasional one since then, but now I have tons. I'm not exactly pleased with the situation.

Wednesday, Viola Vaughn, the woman in charge of the 10,000 Girls organization in Kaolack met with me. And now I have an internship for January and February! Not to mention some work to do before I begin it. I am now in charge of setting up libraries at a large number of schools in Senegal. There are over 39,000 books sitting at the port in Dakar with my name on them. They must be transported to Kaolack. There, I will have to sort through the books and figure out how the system will be organized. Once some kind of system is set up, the books have to be transported to each of the schools and the libraries must be set up. I also must find volunteers from each of the schools to serve as librarians for some time before and after school. In addition, Ms. Vaughn has hired a truck and a driver for a book mobile. I have to meet with a man at the US Embassy in Dakar who really likes book mobiles in order to learn how to run one, and then I'm in charge of setting that up as well. Basically, the truck will serve as a moving library and will travel to the villages which don't have schools. I have to decide which villages, how often, all of that. So, basically, I have my hands full. But, I'm really excited! The books are both textbooks and books for pleasure reading. Books are very rare supplies in the rural areas of Senegal. They will allow the kids to think about things outside of their immediate community and their daily lives, in addition to providing them with an opportunity to study more on their own outside of the walls of the schools. The main problem I see is that the majority of the books are in English, because they were donated by the USAID. Although many of the schools to teach some English, I'm going to try to see if I can't get more French books donated. I also know someone who writes books in Wolof, some of which have recently been published. So I'm going to try to raise some money to buy a bunch of those to disperse among the schools so that the children can also have access to a few books in their first language.

Taxis in Dakar are quite special. There are hundreds of them. Every time I walk down the street to go to class, to the store, or to a friend's house, taxis always slow down and honk because they assume since I'm a white person that I should be riding in a taxi and not walking. If I'm walking down a street, and an empty taxi passes on a cross street, quite often it will back up and wait til I reach the end of the street to see if I need a ride. They're all average taxis… yellow with the light up sign on top. None of them are in good condition. The windows often don't work right, and they're always halfway down, when they exist. Often at least one of the windows is shattered or cracked and held together by plastic. Inside the taxi, the dashboard is filled with stickers and random items. From the rearview mirror hangs prayer beads or a cross. They go very fast, and have their own way of driving which is much different from in the States… but all cars here in Dakar are like that. In the States, if I saw a car that looked like one of these taxis, I would assume that it doesn't work. But here, they just keep on keepin' on. They're like the Little Engine That Could. And they drive very fast. They probably wouldn't pass their driver's tests in the US if they drove in the same method that they do here. And if you're ever stopped, or slowed down on the street, there is immediately someone trying to get you to buy a phone card or begging for money through the window. The cops also have a habit of pulling cabs over, even when there are passengers in. They write up a ticket and then asks the cabby for money, if the cab driver gives money to the cop then the ticket gets ripped up. I've heard stories of cabbies asking the passengers to pay, or stopping for gas and asking for the passengers to pay for it… but that has yet to happen to me. Typically, the cab drivers are nice enough. But some also have a habit of pretending that they know the place that you're going to when they really have no idea. The entire cab experience is a bit more difficult when that is the case AND your cabby only speaks Wolof. Regardless of all of that… it is rare to see an accident. In fact, I haven't seen any yet. For any of you worried about my method of transportation, take comfort in knowing that the security officials at the US Embassy suggest taxi over any other sort of public transportation… not that it says much about the other forms.

Corite

Today has been a day of recuperation for the country, and I joined in on that. I spent much of today sleeping and resting at home. It wasn’t until a friend of mine called me at 4:30pm that I actually got out of bed for good. But the friend of mine who called me had also not gotten out of bed yet.

Yesterday was Corite (the end of Ramadan). The celebrations began on Friday night and I began by going out dancing with my friends all night. Saturday, my host mother cooked all day to prepare the lunch time meal which we ate around 3pm. Relatives of my host family came over and spent the day with us. The kids, aside from the eldest and the niece, were at relatives' houses. It reminded me much of Thanksgiving. Eating, sitting around, and talking. My host mom never really joined us, because she stayed in the kitchen or cleaning or staying occupied otherwise. But she would come into the room where the relatives were and laugh and laugh with them, but just for a few moments before returning to her work. The relatives were incredibly nice. It was entertaining enough to simply watch them interact with each other. They were very loud, very involved in each other's problems, and had advice and suggestions for everyone. One of the aunts was in an argument with someone else who had married into the family and kept picking up the phone to argue with another relative about the situation. Every time the phone rang, she made everyone in the house be quiet so she could hear. The relatives quietly teased her and joked about the situation. I would say that everyone in the neighborhood could hear her, but I'm sure all the festivities at the nearby houses were just as loud. The way that families work here just amaze me. The well-being of the family is the first priority… but not just the immediate family, the extended family. If a woman has a job here, her money is not given to her immediate family… it is given to her father's family, because she is part of his household, not the household of her husband. It is up to the husband to provide for the family. The woman shares with her original family and saves the rest for herself. Typically. I don't believe that is the case in my host family, because my host father does not have a job.

The food for Corite was delicious. Chicken, beef, Moroccan couscous, all sorts of vegetables, and various sauces. We're eating the leftovers today. Again, much like Thanksgiving. Typically, part of the celebration involves making a tour to visit all the neighbors, but my family didn't do that. And also, our neighbors didn't visit us. Which I hear is very unusual, but perhaps the neighbors were at their respective villages for the celebration.

To Answer Your Questions...

I wondered the same thing about breaking your foot playing golf. Apparently, if you swing with enough force and twist your foot just so, it's possible to break your foot playing golf. It takes talent and luck, but it's possible.

What kind of tv do I watch? Bad tv. Soap operas from Spain and Italy dubbed in French. Cartoons with the kids. Star Wars seems to be on tv at least once a week, so I always watch part of the movies... at least until Darth Vader shows up and starts speaking with a higher pitched French voice, and then I just can't put up with it anymore. Sometimes I watched the Senegalese tv shows which are in Wolof, but not for very long. They're entertaining for a few minutes, but when I don't have a clue what they're talking about, I quickly lose interest.

My classes are all still one-on-one. They will remain that way the entire time I'm here. At least one of my professors has quickly become one of my good friends here. But that's what happens when you're forced to spend 15 hours a week together. The classes are really good and my French is coming along quite well.

Health Project, Corite, and A Husband

I had a meeting with my Rotary host counselor today downtown at his office. The meeting was supposed to start at 5pm… instead it started at 6:30pm because another meeting of his started late. So I sat in the lobby playing Snake on my cell phone, observing the bustling streets outside, and talking to Laurent. The meeting did not take very long once it started. The Dakar Rotary club is collaborating with another club to build a health center in a village about 100 km outside of Dakar. The project is in its beginning stages. The closest hospital to the village is more than an hour today and there are no real health facilities in the area. Maternal mortality rate in the area is high and there are inadequate facilities to deal with birth, newborns, and pregnancy. The center will serve those in the village as well as those in surrounding villages. The current plan is for the center to be composed of four buildings including a maternity hospital and a clinic. I'm hoping to visit the site sometime soon. In the meantime, I have another Rotary meeting on Tuesday evening to discuss the project in greater detail.

Ramadan ends today/tomorrow. I say that, because Senegal does not follow the scientific lunar calendar but instead relies on looking at the moon to determine when holidays are. All week, people have been speculating about whether it would end today or tomorrow. About half the country is celebrating the end of Ramadan today, and the rest will celebrate tomorrow. Almost all of the big celebrations are planned for tomorrow. Everyone has been talking about this since the day I arrived. My French professor this morning drank at least 5 cups of coffee because he was so excited to be able to drink it in the morning again. My classes this afternoon were cancelled because my afternoon professor is already celebrating. Tomorrow is Corite, a huge celebration. Everyone eats… and eats… and eats. They eat at home, and make a stop at all the neighbors' houses. And then there are parties all night long. My Senegalese friends have been talking about the parties for quite some time. Everyone is having a celebration during the day and so I've been invited to many. I do not yet know exactly where I'll go or exactly what I'll wear! I have not yet had a traditional celebration outfit made, so I'm left to wearing western clothing, but that's ok. I'll be decked out for Tabasque in December. Many people are sleeping this afternoon in preparation for tonight and tomorrow's festivities. I'm going to work for a few more hours and then sleep a bit to prepare as well.

In other news, a guy who lives two doors down from me is searching for a wife… and he has decided that the wife should be me. My host father thinks the situation is hilarious. I've been told that there was a Senegalese man who lived a few more doors down from this house who married an American girl and moved to the states. That conveniently is exactly what this neighbor has his eye set on as well. Too bad I'm not in the market for a husband!

A Birthday in Dakar

Yesterday was my birthday, I turned 23. Birthdays in Senegal are not a big deal. They often pass by without notice. Children's birthdays are celebrated, but only until about age 5. After that, it is seen as childish to celebrate them. Although I'm immersed in this culture, I decided to ignore their disinterest in birthdays and celebrate my own. Everyone in my host family wished me a happy birthday when I woke up. I went to class as usual, and everyone at the center wished me a happy birthday as well. When I returned home for lunch, I found a necklace and a card on my bed from Leila, whose birthday was also yesterday. After my afternoon classes one of my professors sang Joyeux Aniversaire to me repeatedly, and he said he couldn't get it out of his head. I stopped back home to change clothes, and then returned to the center to pick up two of my friends. I brought them by my friend's apartment to hang out for a bit, and then we stopped back home to spend a bit more time with my host family. One of Leila's friends bought a huge vanilla and strawberry birthday cake, so the family shared it. Afterwards, my friends and I headed downtown to meet up with other friends at a restaurant.

One of my friends here is a DJ in his spare time and mixes karaoke on Thursday nights at a nice restaurant downtown. So, he picked that as the place for us to celebrate. The staff was introduced to me by the owner of the restaurant, and he told us that everyone with us would have 20% off the bill as a gift for celebrating my birthday there. The food was delicious! I had pizza for the first time since coming here, pizza de trois fromages. The restaurant owner brought me the most delicious black forest birthday cake. It was quite big, so everyone could have a piece. And one of my friends bought a bottle of champagne. Afterwards, my friend turned on the karaoke equipment and serenaded everyone. The owner of the restaurant joined in and serenaded me as well. For the next couple hours the microphones were passed around by everyone. One of my friends pulled out balloons from her purse and a balloon pump and began to make balloon animals. So random! Needless to say within a half hour our table was covered with an assortment of poodles, swords, flours, and teddy bears. Everyone was taught how to make a poodle. I must say, I made it 22 birthdays without balloon animals and I was quite surprised to have them at my 23rd birthday party. The celebration was wonderfully random and fun! Sometime after midnight we left the restaurant with the owner and his wife and went to a club to dance for a little while: a little Latin music and a little Zook. I made it home around 3am. Needless to say, I was a little bit tired during my classes today, but it was definitely worth it.

Another View

During my afternoon class today, my professor had me read an article from the newspaper that had been published last week. The article was written by an intern at the newspaper who is most likely French. I love the article because it gives an outsider's perspective on this city. You've been hearing about it from me for the past month, so I thought it might be interesting for you to see what another foreigner thinks of this city. So, here it is:

Dakar, As Seen By a Foreigner
(Printed in the Soleil, October 5, 2007; roughly translated by Shannon O’Rourke)

It’s as if the sun is melting the houses that dare to rise towards the sky. Dakar is flat, crushed. Above, only the minarets of the mosques and the birds of prey have their place. The former sing, unmoving, and insensitive to the time that passes by. The latter are silent, and fly in the air by the dozens. They see beneath them the noisy life and the swarms of rushing people. But, what do they really see?
Probably, a hell for pedestrians. Buses, taxis, cars, and trucks scorn, pay no attention to, and honk at pedestrians. The sidewalks, the vital place for pedestrians, disappear under all sorts of merchandise or are crumbling into the street. Such is the place for pedestrians in this city which is mounted on four wheels and where green spaces are rare.

Walking merchants circulate all day between the exhaust pipes in order to sell their stock of belts, telephone cards, and sunglasses. The tourists, of whom there are few, are discouraged by the scorching heat and the harassment downtown. They are warned by their tour guides of frauds. But as they prepare themselves to be ready for such an instance, four people trick them: a few press and push them and the fourth rummages through their pockets. When you see this once, one understands that the victims are not only the tourists, but also the honest Senegalese merchants whose activities are tarnished by the tricksters. A few men steal, but many beg: children, women with newborn babies, and the sick handicapped by polio. One is first shocked, but then gets used to seeing it.

And continuing to soar through the sky, the birds of prey also see a Dakar which, from a distance, is more charming and less suffocating. You have to read the slogans on the walls, see the papers pass from hand to hand, and the agitated conversations of men and women to understand that the people of Dakar are more latin than the Latin. They speak passionately about politics, sports, and the latest news of the neighborhood or country with a great deal of gestures. When taking a public bus, one is surprised to see all of the passengers present their tickets to the controller, while in Paris it’s popular to try to get by without purchasing a ticket. And then, on a detour due to a street filled with sand, one gets a glimpse of the ocean. Once off the bus, one walks faster and faster down the streets where Mercedes pass horse carts, and then down the smaller side streets filled with goats and children playing soccer, and then one finally arrives at the beach. Dakar without the Atlantic seems unlivable, a place filled with din and chaos without the coolness and calmness of the ocean. Of the mystical Ouakam, where the sea is filled with children floating with swim toys, to the savage Yoff which calls back the waves of Landes, the beach is the indispensible place of decompression of the Dakar cooker-pressure. Aligned to the shore, facing the foam of the sea, the small colorful boats respond to the call of the open sea. The fishing nets are kept busy on the side of the boat, but the fishermen seem less enthusiastic. Yet, the traffic of the sea seems more appealing than that of the city.

Crazy Taxis and a Lazy Sunday Afternoon

October is probably the hottest month in Dakar. The rains have stopped, so there's nothing to combat the extreme heat. When I walk outside in the middle of the day it's so incredibly hot. The lowest it has gotten down to recently is 86 degrees, and that's at night. My room of course is always well over 90 degrees, but the fan makes it possible to relax and sleep. I have forgotten what it's like to curl up under a sheet or blanket and go to sleep. I'm very lucky to have air conditioning where I take class. I am simply in awe of the majority of this country that are spending this month refraining from eating and drinking during the day. I cannot imagine not being able to drink water when it's 98 degrees outside, especially when the majority of them don't have access to air conditioning. One of the girls who takes classes at the Baobab Center had a frighteningly close-call with a taxi late last week. She was on the sidewalk and at around 6pm, a taxi swerved off of the road and almost hit her on the sidewalk, and there wasn't anything in the road that the taxi was swerving to avoid. She said the only positive thing about the experience was that all the people on the street started yelling after the taxi. The girl said a little kid even yelled a few English swear words at the taxi while shaking his fist. Someone at the Baobab Center told us that during Ramadan it really is a good idea to avoid public transportation during the few hours before sunset. This is because most of the taxi and bus drivers have not had anything to eat or drink all day, and are by then quite hungry and tired.

My Rotary host counselor invited me over to his house for lunch today. I hitched a ride with his son and ended up spending the afternoon there. I read the paper and enjoyed the air conditioning while my host counselor, his son, and a coworker did some work related to a Rotary presentation. I relaxed on the couch and watched music videos with a relative of theirs. The relative and I ended up eating lunch together, just the two of us, because my host counselor decided to leave the house for a bit and his wife was busy elsewhere. The relative works for the United Nations as a child advocate and previously worked with UNICEF. It was fascinating to talk with her about her work experience, how she got involved, and the benefits and difficulties of the jobs she has had. She has been working in the Democratic Republic of Congo and had some incredible stories to tell. She said she was burned out and thus was taking her three weeks of vacation to try to recoup a bit so that she'll be able to better focus at work again when she returns. I'm hoping to stop back by the house sometime soon so that I can spend a bit more time with her before she heads to her next job in Burundi. I spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing by the edge of the pool with my host counselor. We talked about the projects his Rotary club is working on and possibilities for my sponsor club and district in Illinois to get involved. Right now, their major project is building a health center for women and children in a village about 100km outside of Dakar. It's very much needed. He showed me pictures from the site. I'm going to meet with him sometime at his office this week so I can see more specifics and we can brainstorm possible collaboration possibilities.

Weddings

Today was a very long day! I only have four hours of French instead of five, but I joined with the students from the University of Wisconsin for a 5 hour cultural orientation. A lot of the things that were covered I had already discovered on my own, but I did learn more. Lunch was served the traditional Senegalese way… in big communal bowls and we had to eat with our hands… I must say it's much harder than it looks. I'd try to paraphrase everything but I wouldn't do a lot of it justice. But for today, I'll recap what I learned about weddings. The two people getting married do not attend their own ceremony. Only family members attend the ceremony. This means that Senegalese people can get married even when they're out of the country. The man may live in the United States and the woman in Italy, but their parents can hold the ceremony in Senegal and they will be officially married. Even if the couple is in the country, both the bride and groom are not allowed to attend the ceremony. While the prayers of the ceremony take place, the woman is in a different location seated with her head covered. This custom shows how important the family is here, because it's looked at as not just two people getting married but two families getting married. One of the Wisconsin students said what a surprise it would be if a Senegalese person was out of the country and their parents called to tell them that a ceremony was held that day for the person's marriage without their knowledge or consent. The man giving the presentation laughed and said "yes, it happens." But then he said "But it's just as surprising for two Americans to leave the state or country and decide on a whim to get married to each other while traveling and to call home and say 'Hey, we're married.'" For many Senegalese the importance of the family is equal to and often more important than the individual.

This morning in my French class my professor was also telling me about the importance of family here. If someone has a problem, any type of problem, the family tries to solve it for them. It is not unusual for family members to call or show up late at night at someone's door with a problem that they need to talk about right then. The family member is then obliged to wake up, or stay up, and help them with their problem. A family member is not just of the immediate family, but of extended family, close friends, and close neighbors. In Senegal, those are all equal family. Often close friends or friend's children are introduced as siblings or their own children. People here are respected according to the size of their family network. It's visible in the death announcements that list every possible relation, and marriage invitations that also list every possible relation before ever getting to the name of the two people actually getting married.

My classes finally finished at 6:30pm. On the way home I stopped by the apartment of a Senegalese friend of mine and ended up staying there until 11pm. We just chilled and watched TV and talked and I got my homework done. It was a nice change of location for me. There was actually air conditioning, but the apartment was still over 80 degrees. And, like all Senegalese houses/apartments, there was a steady stream of friends and relatives in and out the door. My Rotary host counselor was one of the many people who stopped by. He managed to break his foot playing golf on Saturday, but aside from that all is well. I also ate some kind of Senegalese food, I don't remember the name of it now, that resembled and tasted a lot like a samosa. It was so good!

Rotary Meeting

Tonight I went downtown Dakar by myself for the first time. I took a taxi there for my first Rotary meeting. The cab driver that took me there of course wanted too much money, and I told him my price, and he told me the higher one again, and I told him I wasn't a tourist but that I lived here and I know the price and he said "alright, I agree with your price, let's go." Haha : ) The meeting was at Hotel Teranga, which is one of the nicest hotels in Dakar. I used the restroom before the meeting and there were rose petals sprinkled around the countertop of the sinks. Much nicer than the bathroom here at my house, to say the least. The meeting precisely (with Rotary time) at 7pm. There were about 25 people at the meeting, and I was one of three women. My host Rotary Club is the oldest Rotary Club in West Africa and they are VERY proud of the history of their club. The club is filled with an assortment of Senegalese as well as some French and other foreigners who live in Dakar. I look forward to finding out more of their occupations, but there's an assortment of businessmen and two men who work for the United Nations. All of them were as nice and helpful as the Rotarians I've spent time with in the Midwest. One man gave a presentation on the role of "service above self" in Rotary which led to an intense discussion about people groups, the role of religion and politics, and generalizing people. It was quite interesting. I am the first Cultural Ambassador that this club has hosted, so one of the past Presidents gave an overview of what my role here is and I gave a brief introduction about myself. We exchanged Rotary banners, so now I have one from Dakar to give to the Bloomington Club. I'm really looking forward to getting more involved with this club. They seem like an energetic group of people.

Another Rotarian scholar arrived yesterday in Dakar. She is from Alaska and will be spending the year in St. Louis for graduate school, as she is an Academic Scholar. But for this month, she will be in Dakar taking French classes. Also, a group of students from UW Madison showed up this morning and they will be taking classes for a month, until the Kzoo College students come back from St. Louis.