I'm writing this in the darkness of my host family's living room where the power has been cut for at least the second time today. It's funny because I knew electricity often failed in Senegal, but mentally, I wrote it off as some quirk of a developing African country. However, as I sit in this room, surrounded by two computers, a flat screen TV, a DVD player, and stereo sound system, it seems utterly absurd. My family copes with it pretty well - we have a supply of precharged light bars ready to go when the lights go out, and people generally just go on with whatever they are doing in the darkness. I highly doubt that most Americans would be this tolerant. But I think that if anything was to cause this country to throw out their president, the power outages would be it. Dakar is filled with such activity and ingenuity; it's trying so hard to be a modern, prosperous city, but when people are literally left in the dark every day, it's hard to see that as a true possibility. In any case, it's just another occurrence of things happening half-way in Dakar. There are fountains without water, roads without pavement, and technology without power.
The other CIEE students and I ventured to the centre-ville this weekends with our cultural guides. It was an interesting, if exhausting, outing. We saw all the government buildings, which have been a bit more guarded after this summer's protests. Still, it's a huge contrast to D.C., where you know that hundreds of guards are ready at any moment. Here, the one guard you see isn't backed up by hidden support. We were amused at the fact that the government buildings look so...worn down. There are letters missing on the general assembly sign and overgrown grass near the ministry of the interior - if this happened in the U.S., Fox News would have a field day. It was so hot, so we stopped to sample some amazing, if a bit overpriced ice cream that clearly caters to toubabs. I have never seen so many flavors in my life, and it was air conditioned - pure luxury.
And the marchands...this was the craziest part of downtown Dakar. We were introduced to this experience gently, as we went downtown on Sunday, the calmest day of the week. However, if this was calm, I cannot imagine a weekday. When we paused for even a minute, we were surrounded by people attempting to sell us something - pens, cologne, soap, bags, whatever. I have never seen such persistence; it would be impressive if it wasn't so completely irritating. I was better than some of the others at fighting them off - I think I managed to look disinterested and firm at the same time. It's almost a beneficial experience; after the first few times warding them off, any discomfort at this experience just turns into annoyance and amusement. My favorite experience was at the bus stop, where we waited forever to take a bus home. This is a popular spot to sell things, and vendors roam on and off parked buses waiting to leave trying to sell their wares to the passengers packed inside. One such vendor, hearing us speaking English, came over to sell us some sort of pen, addressing us proudly as "nice ladies and playboys." Annoyed with our refusal, he told the guys in our group that they were NOT playboys. That's probably accurate.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Friday, August 26, 2011
ACI Baobab
On Thursday, we went to the Baobab center, an institute that trains international workers on issues of Senegalese culture and language, and health education for Senegalese.
We learned so much that it was almost overwhelming. We first worked with a Senegalese guide who talked us through traditional values. Some of them were really interesting, such as a demm, or a bad spirit. When you are in Senegal, you have to be careful that you do not say things that suggest you are a demm, such as complementing physical attributes of adults or children, or asking when a pregnant women is due. These comments are supposed to attract the attentions of bad spirits, and if complications arise, it is considered your fault and can provoke hostility or even ostracization by the community. The program leader told us that often when women have trouble getting pregnant or miscarry several times, their first child's name will be something that translates to "rug" or "the one I don't care about". This is supposed to ensure that bad spirits will leave the child alone during its life.
We also learned about teranga, the famous Senegalese concept of hospitality. The idea of teranga stems from the idea that you should welcome visitors in the same way that you would want your own children welcomed, if they were overseas. There's a really nice, typically Senegalese folk story that sums up the dangers of not acting with teranga in mind. To paraphrase, a man has a really great soup bone that he doesn't want to share with anyone. However, visitors stop by the man's house and he so wants to guard the soup bone that he has his wife tell them that he's dead - not sure why simply hiding the soup bone wasn't an option here. Everyone thinks the man is dead, and he's buried alive. The end. That's what you get when you aren't welcoming to your guests. They just don't tell them like that in the U.S..
We also had a delicious thieboudienne, which is a customary dish of rice, (sometimes)fish, cassava, tamarind, carrots, cabbage, eggplant or whatever else is available in a spicy sauce. We practiced eating with one's hands around a communal bowl, which is way more difficult than it sounds. You ball rice and pieces of vegetables and fish carefully divided by your host in your right hand - you use your entire hand for this like you are squeezing clay - and then attempt to transfer this ball to the tips of your fingers and get in your mouth. So basically, we got rice everywhere except in our mouths. It was definitely a fun experience, if not a neat one. We also got to taste a bunch of local juices: kiwi, bissap (hibiscus) bouye(baobab), pineapple, and ginger. And finally, we got attaya, the traditional tea of Senegal which is served in three servings, each getting consecutively sweeter. It's delicious but intense, best described as the mix between tea and coffee because of the bitterness.
I'll upload pictures as soon as I can - I've been busy with a new host family in the past couple of days.
We learned so much that it was almost overwhelming. We first worked with a Senegalese guide who talked us through traditional values. Some of them were really interesting, such as a demm, or a bad spirit. When you are in Senegal, you have to be careful that you do not say things that suggest you are a demm, such as complementing physical attributes of adults or children, or asking when a pregnant women is due. These comments are supposed to attract the attentions of bad spirits, and if complications arise, it is considered your fault and can provoke hostility or even ostracization by the community. The program leader told us that often when women have trouble getting pregnant or miscarry several times, their first child's name will be something that translates to "rug" or "the one I don't care about". This is supposed to ensure that bad spirits will leave the child alone during its life.
We also learned about teranga, the famous Senegalese concept of hospitality. The idea of teranga stems from the idea that you should welcome visitors in the same way that you would want your own children welcomed, if they were overseas. There's a really nice, typically Senegalese folk story that sums up the dangers of not acting with teranga in mind. To paraphrase, a man has a really great soup bone that he doesn't want to share with anyone. However, visitors stop by the man's house and he so wants to guard the soup bone that he has his wife tell them that he's dead - not sure why simply hiding the soup bone wasn't an option here. Everyone thinks the man is dead, and he's buried alive. The end. That's what you get when you aren't welcoming to your guests. They just don't tell them like that in the U.S..
We also had a delicious thieboudienne, which is a customary dish of rice, (sometimes)fish, cassava, tamarind, carrots, cabbage, eggplant or whatever else is available in a spicy sauce. We practiced eating with one's hands around a communal bowl, which is way more difficult than it sounds. You ball rice and pieces of vegetables and fish carefully divided by your host in your right hand - you use your entire hand for this like you are squeezing clay - and then attempt to transfer this ball to the tips of your fingers and get in your mouth. So basically, we got rice everywhere except in our mouths. It was definitely a fun experience, if not a neat one. We also got to taste a bunch of local juices: kiwi, bissap (hibiscus) bouye(baobab), pineapple, and ginger. And finally, we got attaya, the traditional tea of Senegal which is served in three servings, each getting consecutively sweeter. It's delicious but intense, best described as the mix between tea and coffee because of the bitterness.
I'll upload pictures as soon as I can - I've been busy with a new host family in the past couple of days.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Asalaam alekum!
The last few days have been filled with orientation activities, so there's nothing really captivating to report. We usually eat breakfast - les petits pains au chocolat are delicious - and then go to the CIEE study center where we have some sort of program instructing us on security, medical issues, culture, etc. On Monday, we toured the area where we will be living. I will be in the neighborhood of Sacre Coeur, although I don't know which specific area my host family lives in yet; I'll find that out tomorrow. The main landmark in Sacre Coeur, Immauble Mariam (a building that certainly would not be considered a landmark in the U.S.), is about a twenty minute walk from the study center.
Yesterday, we had a two hour intensive Wolof session. I am now able to greet people several ways - there's a lot of forms of "hello" and "peace" and "praise Allah"s but it's nicely formulaic. I can say my name and where I come from, and I now can kind of identify the Wolof phrase for "do you have a husband?" - helpful for walking through the streets.
This afternoon a couple of other girls and I walked to the Cornishe, the road that winds along the ocean. This is where all the fancy homes and embassies and hotels and toubab (white people) stores are. It's quite a bit cleaner in this area compared to Mermoz, and the streets leading to it are full of venders walking around selling phone cards and flip-flops and imported plastic toys to the tourists. While during the day, this area is full of joggers and sightseerers, we were told it is one of the more dangerous areas in Dakar after dusk for tourists and Senegalese alike.
A few observations:
An interesting thing about Senegalese society is the manner and importance of greeting people. A typical greeting can last for a long period of time because people basically continue saying the same thing to each other forms, in both Wolof and French. This means that you can continue to repeat the one phrase you know multiple times without looking too stupid.
The Senegalese, both women and to a certain extent men, are in general extremely well dressed. They seem to not only repel sand and dirt, but also to not be affected by the sun or humidity whereas most of the toubabs - foreigners - are looking completely worn down. There's a mixture of dirt and sand coating everything that has been exposed to the outdoors. We learned that cleanliness is extremely important here. People shower multiple times a day, and homes and courtyards are meticuliously cleaned. You would not expect this from the sheer amount of garbage covering every surface. Although the trash from the homes has to go somewhere...
Car rapides are not quite as terrifying (or rapid) as they appear. I'm still a little fuzzy about how you actually get to where you are going. Basically, you ask the assistant who hangs off the back of the door whether the bus you're using is going the direction of your intended destination, pay him and climb on. When you get to the correct spot, he knocks on the side of the bus - the driver recognizes his assistant's knock - and then you climb off. It's hot and crowded and a bit questionable, but extremely Senegalese.
That's all for now. Ba beneen yoon - until next time!
Yesterday, we had a two hour intensive Wolof session. I am now able to greet people several ways - there's a lot of forms of "hello" and "peace" and "praise Allah"s but it's nicely formulaic. I can say my name and where I come from, and I now can kind of identify the Wolof phrase for "do you have a husband?" - helpful for walking through the streets.
This afternoon a couple of other girls and I walked to the Cornishe, the road that winds along the ocean. This is where all the fancy homes and embassies and hotels and toubab (white people) stores are. It's quite a bit cleaner in this area compared to Mermoz, and the streets leading to it are full of venders walking around selling phone cards and flip-flops and imported plastic toys to the tourists. While during the day, this area is full of joggers and sightseerers, we were told it is one of the more dangerous areas in Dakar after dusk for tourists and Senegalese alike.
A few observations:
An interesting thing about Senegalese society is the manner and importance of greeting people. A typical greeting can last for a long period of time because people basically continue saying the same thing to each other forms, in both Wolof and French. This means that you can continue to repeat the one phrase you know multiple times without looking too stupid.
The Senegalese, both women and to a certain extent men, are in general extremely well dressed. They seem to not only repel sand and dirt, but also to not be affected by the sun or humidity whereas most of the toubabs - foreigners - are looking completely worn down. There's a mixture of dirt and sand coating everything that has been exposed to the outdoors. We learned that cleanliness is extremely important here. People shower multiple times a day, and homes and courtyards are meticuliously cleaned. You would not expect this from the sheer amount of garbage covering every surface. Although the trash from the homes has to go somewhere...
Car rapides are not quite as terrifying (or rapid) as they appear. I'm still a little fuzzy about how you actually get to where you are going. Basically, you ask the assistant who hangs off the back of the door whether the bus you're using is going the direction of your intended destination, pay him and climb on. When you get to the correct spot, he knocks on the side of the bus - the driver recognizes his assistant's knock - and then you climb off. It's hot and crowded and a bit questionable, but extremely Senegalese.
That's all for now. Ba beneen yoon - until next time!
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Arrived in Africa
I'm finally here! Internet access at La Citronelle, the hotel where I am staying for the first few days of orientation is pretty spotty at best (especially for me, for some reason). Combine that with frequent power outages, and I am trying to write things to post in advance. I'm currently relaxing in the room, trying to kill some time during the longest day ever.
The flight from Washington was pretty uneventful. South African Airways was really quite nice - especially the bizarre in-flight safety cartoon - and the flight went quickly. When we approached Dakar, it was still dark, so that only a grid of orange lights, interupted by their reflections on the ocean inlets could be seen. It looked much like any other city, except I was struck by how dark it was, especially when approaching the airport
The twenty or so CIEE students on the flight were basically the only passengers on the jet that actually disembarked in Dakar, while most of the others were remaining for another 10 hour flight to Johannesburg. I cannot imagine looking forward to a flight that was even longer than the first leg. Even after immigration and customs and baggage claim - kind of a joke compared to the super security of Dulles - it was still dark when we met the CIEE staff who would taKe us to the hotel. The airport was a little overwhelming after a long flight, but it was an interesting first look at the chaos of Dakar. It was a relatively short drive on the bus - a rented Japanese tour bus with elaborate curtains - but it was a good look at the outer areas of Dakar. I was struck most strongly about how Dakar is a city in transition - something I knew, but didn't really understand the scale of it until I saw it in person. You get the sense that things are always changing, but that it is unclear whether the city is growing or degressing.
We are currently staying in a hotel cross the street from the study center and the pleasant cafe where we eat all our meals this week. La Citronelle is quite nice, not fancy by any means, but immaculately clean. I am staying on the top floor with two other girls in a nice room with a tiny balcony and a bathroom. It's styled as a little residence with a nonworking kitchen, a living area (that is converted into a sleeping area) with television, and another bedroom and bathroom. We also have airconditioning (again, dependent on whether the power is on) which is a real luxury. We have been here since 6am, so we got a nice breakfast of croissants and juices and Nescafe, and a lunch of beef and vegetables with French bread and bissap juice (that's for you, Amy!).
Then a group of us went to explore Mermoz, the little neighborhood that could actually be where our host families are, and to figure out how ATMs worked. I like it here so far - after getting adjusted to the amount of goats, cows, stray dogs and cats and garbage around - it's actually an extremely lively neighborhood with lots of shops and marketplaces, a mosque that projects some sort of readings all the time, and a large boulangerie that smells strongly of bread dough. There is so much activity here. I like watching the extremely well-dressed women leave the car rapides, the brightly painted busses they have been crammed into without even being wrinkled, and seeing fancy imported cars and a horse and wagon on the same street. I also noticed the sheer amount of people outside sitting or standing around and talking when it's too hot to be outside on a Sunday; there are lots of groups of white plastic chairs in circles outside of homes that are filled with ten or fifteen people debating and discussing things. I think that in this neighborhood where students are at so much of the time, we aren't a target of scams or begging as much as we were in the airport. We made a friend ("un frere senegalais") who was a genuinely nice security guard at the bank who taught us how to say some Wolof words and told us which of us had names that sounded like they could be Senegalese (Abbey was one of the best, he said).
There are so many impressions in the hours I've been here, and I haven't even seen the ocean yet; it's about a mile walk. It's hard to believe that I'm actually in Africa, and yet it is very clearly Africa - no replication of Europe here. We have dinner later tonight and orientation starts tomorrow morning.
The flight from Washington was pretty uneventful. South African Airways was really quite nice - especially the bizarre in-flight safety cartoon - and the flight went quickly. When we approached Dakar, it was still dark, so that only a grid of orange lights, interupted by their reflections on the ocean inlets could be seen. It looked much like any other city, except I was struck by how dark it was, especially when approaching the airport
The twenty or so CIEE students on the flight were basically the only passengers on the jet that actually disembarked in Dakar, while most of the others were remaining for another 10 hour flight to Johannesburg. I cannot imagine looking forward to a flight that was even longer than the first leg. Even after immigration and customs and baggage claim - kind of a joke compared to the super security of Dulles - it was still dark when we met the CIEE staff who would taKe us to the hotel. The airport was a little overwhelming after a long flight, but it was an interesting first look at the chaos of Dakar. It was a relatively short drive on the bus - a rented Japanese tour bus with elaborate curtains - but it was a good look at the outer areas of Dakar. I was struck most strongly about how Dakar is a city in transition - something I knew, but didn't really understand the scale of it until I saw it in person. You get the sense that things are always changing, but that it is unclear whether the city is growing or degressing.
We are currently staying in a hotel cross the street from the study center and the pleasant cafe where we eat all our meals this week. La Citronelle is quite nice, not fancy by any means, but immaculately clean. I am staying on the top floor with two other girls in a nice room with a tiny balcony and a bathroom. It's styled as a little residence with a nonworking kitchen, a living area (that is converted into a sleeping area) with television, and another bedroom and bathroom. We also have airconditioning (again, dependent on whether the power is on) which is a real luxury. We have been here since 6am, so we got a nice breakfast of croissants and juices and Nescafe, and a lunch of beef and vegetables with French bread and bissap juice (that's for you, Amy!).
Then a group of us went to explore Mermoz, the little neighborhood that could actually be where our host families are, and to figure out how ATMs worked. I like it here so far - after getting adjusted to the amount of goats, cows, stray dogs and cats and garbage around - it's actually an extremely lively neighborhood with lots of shops and marketplaces, a mosque that projects some sort of readings all the time, and a large boulangerie that smells strongly of bread dough. There is so much activity here. I like watching the extremely well-dressed women leave the car rapides, the brightly painted busses they have been crammed into without even being wrinkled, and seeing fancy imported cars and a horse and wagon on the same street. I also noticed the sheer amount of people outside sitting or standing around and talking when it's too hot to be outside on a Sunday; there are lots of groups of white plastic chairs in circles outside of homes that are filled with ten or fifteen people debating and discussing things. I think that in this neighborhood where students are at so much of the time, we aren't a target of scams or begging as much as we were in the airport. We made a friend ("un frere senegalais") who was a genuinely nice security guard at the bank who taught us how to say some Wolof words and told us which of us had names that sounded like they could be Senegalese (Abbey was one of the best, he said).
There are so many impressions in the hours I've been here, and I haven't even seen the ocean yet; it's about a mile walk. It's hard to believe that I'm actually in Africa, and yet it is very clearly Africa - no replication of Europe here. We have dinner later tonight and orientation starts tomorrow morning.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Bon voyage
I'm currently sitting at Washington Dulles Airport. There's still over two hours until my flight departs (an hour before I board) but it seems easier to be sitting here waiting than waiting at home or in the car. My life is packed into three bags, and I'm ready to go.
I've already seen a handful of other CIEE students at the gate. My flight from Dulles to Dakar should take about seven hours. I will be arriving at 6 AM - about 1 AM EST - and representatives from the program in Dakar will meet us and take us to the hotel we'll be staying in until we meet our host families, La Citronelle. I am hoping - fingers crossed - that here I will have some internet access to update everyone on what is going on.
For now, however, I wait and prepare to board. Africa, here I come!
I've already seen a handful of other CIEE students at the gate. My flight from Dulles to Dakar should take about seven hours. I will be arriving at 6 AM - about 1 AM EST - and representatives from the program in Dakar will meet us and take us to the hotel we'll be staying in until we meet our host families, La Citronelle. I am hoping - fingers crossed - that here I will have some internet access to update everyone on what is going on.
For now, however, I wait and prepare to board. Africa, here I come!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)