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.
Friday, October 12, 2007
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!
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.
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.
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.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
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!
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
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.
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