February 30, 2008
As my time wraps up here, I'm reminded of things that I see and experience here everyday that one probably would not see or experience in the States. And it's not even that all these things happen on a daily basis, but that things like this happen every day. In my mind this week, I've been making a mental note of things that I've simply gotten used to here.
1. Walking down the street and having to walk around a cow that was heading my direction, in Dakar
2. Watching a little cat sit underneath a huge skinned dead animal of some sort (part of a cow I believe), happily spotted in drips of blood and munching away at parts of the carcass that had dropped to the ground
3. Marriage proposals from almost every taxi driver
4. Having to discuss the price of almost everything
5. Seeing sheep (or even pigs sometimes outside of Dakar) on the beach
6. Being followed and asked for money by terribly dirty little boys without shoes that7. Really little kids crying at the sight of me, because I'm white (when in a village, or areas of Kaolack)
8. Creating a parade without effort as young kids follow me to work while yelling "toubab" (in Kaolack)
9. Women's breasts being in plain sight
10. Soaking all vegetables I buy in bleach water before cooking and eating them
11. Getting stuck behind horse carts on the major roads in Dakar
12. Having to slow down or stop on the National Highway while waiting for donkeys or sheep or cattle to cross the road
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Tailor Makes House Calls
February 29, 2008
I have wanted clothes made in this country the entire time I've been here. It took me up until this week to actually take the fabric I bought months ago to a tailor. There is a tailor on almost every street of Dakar. So, I took my fabric to the tailor across the street from my friend Anna's house. I wanted two full outfits made and an additional skirt. I dropped off my fabric, he took my measurements, and we sketched out how I wanted everything to look. Within a day and a half he had one of the skirts and one of the outfits made and ready for me to try-on. They of course needed to alterations done, so I gave them back and he finished them by the end of the day. With the other outfit, he gave it to me and told me to go try it on at Anna's apartment. He said if there was something not right with them, just to holler out the window. So I did, and they weren't right, so we called out the window to him. He came up to the apartment and pinned what needed to be fixed and then took the clothes back down to his shop with him. Later in the day, he sent his son up with the finished clothes. So fast, and also quite cheap. A few days later I had three skirts made, he did them in just a few hours, and it cost me $8.
I have wanted clothes made in this country the entire time I've been here. It took me up until this week to actually take the fabric I bought months ago to a tailor. There is a tailor on almost every street of Dakar. So, I took my fabric to the tailor across the street from my friend Anna's house. I wanted two full outfits made and an additional skirt. I dropped off my fabric, he took my measurements, and we sketched out how I wanted everything to look. Within a day and a half he had one of the skirts and one of the outfits made and ready for me to try-on. They of course needed to alterations done, so I gave them back and he finished them by the end of the day. With the other outfit, he gave it to me and told me to go try it on at Anna's apartment. He said if there was something not right with them, just to holler out the window. So I did, and they weren't right, so we called out the window to him. He came up to the apartment and pinned what needed to be fixed and then took the clothes back down to his shop with him. Later in the day, he sent his son up with the finished clothes. So fast, and also quite cheap. A few days later I had three skirts made, he did them in just a few hours, and it cost me $8.
Thursday Night Prayers
February 28, 2008
When I'm in Dakar, sometimes I stay at the apartment of my friend Anna. She lives in a neighborhood a few blocks away from my old house in Baobab. The neighborhood is super friendly and very community-like. This also means that there is never a quiet moment. During the day, the street is filled with kids playing and adults sitting on chairs or benches in front of the doors to their compounds. I can't walk down the street without greeting everyone and shaking all the little kids hands. It's also always a Wolof lesson for me, because most of the kids only speak Wolof. There are sheep who live on the roof of Anna's building who bleet away throughout the day. However at night, it tends to quiet down.
We have realized however that nighttime quietness is not always true. Anna's neighbors have gotten in the habit of holding prayer nights on Thursday evenings in the street directly below Anna's window. This means that the neighbors bring huge plastic mats out, and about 20 people or more gather starting at 9pm. They sit down, men on one side and women on the other, facing each other. For the next 3-4 hours, they sing and chant and pray to Allah. Which is wonderful, except it makes it incredibly difficult to sleep. We found it even more interesting when Anna's downstairs neighbors complained one day that there was a lot of sound the night before coming from Anna's apartment, they said they could simply here people moving around all night. Not music, not talking, just people moving around. Somehow this was very upsetting to the downstairs neighbors, but the people chanting out their window until the wee hours of the morning was not.
It really is fascinating to listen to the people in the street for a while. There are call and answer prayers, and things for women to sing, and things for men to sing, and such. But it's less fascinating at 12:30am when you know that the mosque will wake you up in less than 6 hours.
When I'm in Dakar, sometimes I stay at the apartment of my friend Anna. She lives in a neighborhood a few blocks away from my old house in Baobab. The neighborhood is super friendly and very community-like. This also means that there is never a quiet moment. During the day, the street is filled with kids playing and adults sitting on chairs or benches in front of the doors to their compounds. I can't walk down the street without greeting everyone and shaking all the little kids hands. It's also always a Wolof lesson for me, because most of the kids only speak Wolof. There are sheep who live on the roof of Anna's building who bleet away throughout the day. However at night, it tends to quiet down.
We have realized however that nighttime quietness is not always true. Anna's neighbors have gotten in the habit of holding prayer nights on Thursday evenings in the street directly below Anna's window. This means that the neighbors bring huge plastic mats out, and about 20 people or more gather starting at 9pm. They sit down, men on one side and women on the other, facing each other. For the next 3-4 hours, they sing and chant and pray to Allah. Which is wonderful, except it makes it incredibly difficult to sleep. We found it even more interesting when Anna's downstairs neighbors complained one day that there was a lot of sound the night before coming from Anna's apartment, they said they could simply here people moving around all night. Not music, not talking, just people moving around. Somehow this was very upsetting to the downstairs neighbors, but the people chanting out their window until the wee hours of the morning was not.
It really is fascinating to listen to the people in the street for a while. There are call and answer prayers, and things for women to sing, and things for men to sing, and such. But it's less fascinating at 12:30am when you know that the mosque will wake you up in less than 6 hours.
Goodbye to Kaolack
February 28, 2008
I went to Kaolack yesterday to wrap up things with my work there, as well as say goodbye to everyone. It was not exactly an easy thing to do. Well, the work part of it was easy. I arrived to find out that CNN was waiting until next week to do the report on my project. They have such great timing. Got the additional books organized with the others, spent time talking with my boss about the future, and said goodbye to everyone.
Saying goodbye to my family was much more difficult. My host siblings were acting quite sad the entire time, which was annoying. My host mother/sister had matching boubous made for us, so we tried them on and took lots of pictures. They lamented that they couldn't throw a big party for me in honor of my departure. I spent my last night in Kaolack laying on a mattress outside in our yard in true Kaolack style, staring up at the stars and talking with the family members. I made the rounds and said goodbye to the entire extended family.
The day I left, everyone continued to act weird and sad. My host mother/sister said she wanted to write a letter to my mother. So we sat down in my bedroom, and she dictated the letter in Wolof to Amadou, who then wrote it in French. She left the room, and I was quite confused why Amadou continued to write for such a long time. But later, when I read the letter on my way out of town, found out that Amadou wrote his own letter after the one his mom had dictated. Maguette, the 10 year old, sang a goodbye song with my name in it for hours. Then, when I tried to take a few pictures of the family, she started crying and simply wouldn't stop. So we have family portrait pictures with her face hidden by a kleenex. My host mother/sister also sang me a goodbye song while drumming on a kitchen bowl. She also said a blessing for me. Finally, when it was time to leave, we gathered up all my stuff and walked out of the house. My host mother/sister wrote something in the sand in the yard in Arabic and had me walk over it on my way to the door of the compound.
We sat around and waited for quite some time for the right kind of taxi to arrive. I hugged everyone goodbye, which was very hard, since none of them wanted to let go of me, which made it even harder to leave.
But here I am, back in Dakar. Somehow I managed not to cry. My little host brother has been writing me text messages all day wishing me the best of luck in life and saying that everyone misses me.
I went to Kaolack yesterday to wrap up things with my work there, as well as say goodbye to everyone. It was not exactly an easy thing to do. Well, the work part of it was easy. I arrived to find out that CNN was waiting until next week to do the report on my project. They have such great timing. Got the additional books organized with the others, spent time talking with my boss about the future, and said goodbye to everyone.
Saying goodbye to my family was much more difficult. My host siblings were acting quite sad the entire time, which was annoying. My host mother/sister had matching boubous made for us, so we tried them on and took lots of pictures. They lamented that they couldn't throw a big party for me in honor of my departure. I spent my last night in Kaolack laying on a mattress outside in our yard in true Kaolack style, staring up at the stars and talking with the family members. I made the rounds and said goodbye to the entire extended family.
The day I left, everyone continued to act weird and sad. My host mother/sister said she wanted to write a letter to my mother. So we sat down in my bedroom, and she dictated the letter in Wolof to Amadou, who then wrote it in French. She left the room, and I was quite confused why Amadou continued to write for such a long time. But later, when I read the letter on my way out of town, found out that Amadou wrote his own letter after the one his mom had dictated. Maguette, the 10 year old, sang a goodbye song with my name in it for hours. Then, when I tried to take a few pictures of the family, she started crying and simply wouldn't stop. So we have family portrait pictures with her face hidden by a kleenex. My host mother/sister also sang me a goodbye song while drumming on a kitchen bowl. She also said a blessing for me. Finally, when it was time to leave, we gathered up all my stuff and walked out of the house. My host mother/sister wrote something in the sand in the yard in Arabic and had me walk over it on my way to the door of the compound.
We sat around and waited for quite some time for the right kind of taxi to arrive. I hugged everyone goodbye, which was very hard, since none of them wanted to let go of me, which made it even harder to leave.
But here I am, back in Dakar. Somehow I managed not to cry. My little host brother has been writing me text messages all day wishing me the best of luck in life and saying that everyone misses me.
Pilgrimage
February 26, 2008
Today is the Grand Magal, the largest pilgrimage in Senegal to the holy city of Touba. It is the holy city for Mourides. People have been leaving Dakar in flocks since Sunday. The city seems quite quiet compared to usual. It's estimated that between one and two million people make the trek each year. Many who don't have the money to make the pilgrimage to Mecca instead make their pilgrimage to Touba. People from all over West Africa flock to Touba for the occasion, as well as some from Europe. Touba is the one place in Senegal where women have to wear long sleeves, floor-length skirts, and keep their heads covered.
All day, the people who are still in Dakar have been complaining that nothing works as normal. One woman complained to me that she was supposed to pay her bills today, but couldn't, because most of the people from the company are in Touba. I went to the HLM market today to buy some fabric, and found only about 1/5 of the merchants as usual. Taxi drivers are also trying to charge higher prices because there are less of them around.
Today is the Grand Magal, the largest pilgrimage in Senegal to the holy city of Touba. It is the holy city for Mourides. People have been leaving Dakar in flocks since Sunday. The city seems quite quiet compared to usual. It's estimated that between one and two million people make the trek each year. Many who don't have the money to make the pilgrimage to Mecca instead make their pilgrimage to Touba. People from all over West Africa flock to Touba for the occasion, as well as some from Europe. Touba is the one place in Senegal where women have to wear long sleeves, floor-length skirts, and keep their heads covered.
All day, the people who are still in Dakar have been complaining that nothing works as normal. One woman complained to me that she was supposed to pay her bills today, but couldn't, because most of the people from the company are in Touba. I went to the HLM market today to buy some fabric, and found only about 1/5 of the merchants as usual. Taxi drivers are also trying to charge higher prices because there are less of them around.
Books From Belgians
February 25, 2008
So many of the books that I was in charge of from USAID while working in Kaolack were in English. Although they were useful to distribute to English clubs and English classes at the high schools, we were really in need of additional books for the libraries in the schools and the book mobile. I spent some time during the past couple weeks in Dakar on the phone with the different francophone embassies asking for additional book donations. Today, the Belgians came through for me. The Belgians have regional cultural organizations with missions to countries around the world. It is the Wallonie-Bruxelles delegation that contacted me and told me they wanted to give me books for my project. So I am a big fan of Belgians at the moment. They gave me the news last week, and I went in today to pick up the books.
In case you don't know, Belgians really like their comic books. They have comic book museums and everything. I had learned that about them awhile ago in one of my French classes, but had forgotten since then. But I remembered immediately when I walked into the waiting room at the mission and saw the huge mural of cartoon characters including Smurfs and Tintin. This conveniently worked in my favor. Not only did the delegation provide me with novels, but also with many hardcover children's comic books. So, I am absolutely thrilled with them to say the least. The comic books are perfect for the region, since many kids there don't speak French, so they can be read aloud and the children can look at all the pictures.
Now I just simply need to drag the books back to Kaolack to put them with all the others this week.
In addition, the man I met with at the mission gave me a Smurf calendar for myself. It's going to be one of my favorite souvenirs from Senegal.
So many of the books that I was in charge of from USAID while working in Kaolack were in English. Although they were useful to distribute to English clubs and English classes at the high schools, we were really in need of additional books for the libraries in the schools and the book mobile. I spent some time during the past couple weeks in Dakar on the phone with the different francophone embassies asking for additional book donations. Today, the Belgians came through for me. The Belgians have regional cultural organizations with missions to countries around the world. It is the Wallonie-Bruxelles delegation that contacted me and told me they wanted to give me books for my project. So I am a big fan of Belgians at the moment. They gave me the news last week, and I went in today to pick up the books.
In case you don't know, Belgians really like their comic books. They have comic book museums and everything. I had learned that about them awhile ago in one of my French classes, but had forgotten since then. But I remembered immediately when I walked into the waiting room at the mission and saw the huge mural of cartoon characters including Smurfs and Tintin. This conveniently worked in my favor. Not only did the delegation provide me with novels, but also with many hardcover children's comic books. So, I am absolutely thrilled with them to say the least. The comic books are perfect for the region, since many kids there don't speak French, so they can be read aloud and the children can look at all the pictures.
Now I just simply need to drag the books back to Kaolack to put them with all the others this week.
In addition, the man I met with at the mission gave me a Smurf calendar for myself. It's going to be one of my favorite souvenirs from Senegal.
Update on a Sick Girl
February 22, 2008
An update on the girl that Anna and I visited in the village who was sick and had the sores on her legs. Anna and I started talking about the girl this morning, and realized that there was a health clinic in the big village closest to the girl's house. We wondered why the girl hadn't gone to it. We also wondered why the hospital in the city closest to the village wouldn't be appropriate. The girl obviously had some kind of infection on her leg, and at the very least we figured the hospital would be able to diagnose what it was and give her some kind of medicine to put on it. So, Anna called the pastor and asked him about the situation again. He told her that the girl who was sick had both spiritual and physical needs that needed to be attended to. The hospital he wanted to bring the girl to was a Christian hospital, which would be able to treat all the girls' needs because she was a Christian. The hospital closer to the village was not a Christian hospital, so the majority of the doctors were most likely Muslim. Anna tried telling him that with the money he had available for the girl, he could get her treated at the closer hospital. That the doctors there would be able to address her physical needs, and that he as a pastor could address the spiritual needs. He did not agree and said the girl's only hope would be to go to the other hospital.
Anna then called one of her coworkers who is in the village today, to see what she had to say and to suggest that the woman go speak with the pastor in person. The woman agreed with what Anna and I had been thinking and said she would talk to him. So we are waiting to find out what will happen.
In the meantime, it got me thinking about religion in this country. Senegal is a very tolerant country. It's 95% Muslim, but there aren't tensions between the Muslims and the other religions. But Islam is everywhere. The public transportation carries pictures of marabous on it and has the names of marabous written on the sides of the vehicles. The majority of the pharmacies are in the name of a marabou. Almost everywhere here, if you walk into a building, you will see a picture of a marabou looking over you. Islam is in every aspect of the lives of Muslims here. In the same way, those who have embraced Christianity look for Christianity in every aspect of their lives. And this may be why the pastor wanted the girl to go see Christian doctors.
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