The Crazy Continues [Rural Visit Part 2]

Day 2 in Ndiébel

Wake up at 7, head to the poste de santé. Meet the doctor and Fatou the nurse. Fatou asks me when I will be starting the AIDs screening. I have no idea what she is talking about and freak out a little bit. It sounds like she thinks Im going to be running this thing. Thankfully a little later, some lab people from Kaolack show up to start the AIDs screening. We test about 200 people from the Kaolack region for AIDs. The people from Kaolack do the blood drawing and I do the test. Thank God, there aren’t a lot of positives (less than 10) but every time a test turns up positive it hurts a little bit. The rest of the time, I’m just in zombie mode from a combination of heat and no sleep.

Back at home we drink endless rounds of attaya and take numerous showers (they aren’t really showers, you just have a bucket of water to wash with outside. and when i say outside, i mean next to where the horses are tied up and goats' pen and the "bathroom" so it smells like what you would think that would smell like) to ward off the heat (its SOOOO hot!!!!). By the fourth shower of the day, im kinda sick of it. I mean, i dont mind being a little dirty for a week, but everyone seems to think its of the utmost importance, so what the heck, why not.

Day 3 in Ndiébel

Im finally awake and alert! I surreptitiously take the butter out of my bread and put it in the other breads that are left. I make it to the hospital by nine and find Fatou, the nurse who I had met the previous morning. Fatou still seems to be under the impression that Im some sort of doctor or something, (yes I did try my utmost to disabuse her of this notion) and sets me up in a room to do consultations. What the heck, I think, Fatou’s still here, and when am I ever gonna get the chance to work as a doctor (without you know, going to med school, which is way more stress than im willing to put up with).

Patient 1 is a five month pregnant woman here for a prenatal checkup. I take her temperature, blood pressure, height, weight, measure from her pubic bone to the top of her stomach and then Fatou tells me “mets tes doigts dans sa vagine” and I choke a little. I know my French isn’t perfect, but im fairly certain that Fatou just told me to stick my fingers up this pregnant woman’s vagina. Fatou does not seem to appreciate my reticence to probe pregnant women’s private parts and shoves a white two finger glove on my hand. Then she babbles on about how im supposed to be checking if the baby’s head is the right way and something about the perineum. I don’t really understand anything she says, but she’s quite insistent that I stick my fingers up this woman’s vagina.

Let me just say, for those of you who have never had the experience of sticking your fingers up a pregnant woman’s vagina in a swelteringly hot room surrounded by relentless mosquitoes and fist sized African bees, it is NOT a fun experience.

On the other hand, this is kinda the coolest thing to ever happen to me. Here I am skipping the whole organic chemistry and med school thing, but still getting to play doctor, wait scratch that, being a doctor, in a real poste de santé.

So I figure what the hey, here’s a big fuck you to everyone doing things right and going through med school before they become a doctor, and I go ahead and stick my hands up the pregnant woman’s…you know…

And that was basically how I spent the rest of the week. Many many pre natal consultations, and even a few post natal consultations.

Friday (last day in Ndiébel)

On my last day, I don’t do any pre-natal consultations. Instead I take care of the growing line of sick people outside the poste de santé. Im a little scared at first, and have to rely on Fatou’s advice in terms of what to prescribe.

Which, yes, by the way, I was writing out prescriptions. For like real medication. And filling out patient records. And diagnosing illnesses. What?!?

Like I said, really scary, but kinda the coolest thing ever. Halfway through the morning, I thought, fuck the paridisical toubab diallo, if I ever get a chance to go back to Senegal, this is where I’m going back to!!

And then, suddenly, its all over. Some guy showed up from APROFES, and tells me he’ll give me a ride…on his motorcycle, but he was leaving in five minutes. And I was like HELL YES! I would take a motorcycle ride over a concussion inducing sept place ride anytime. So I run home, throw my clothes in a bag, and then one of the wives (the same one who slept all over me, actually) insists that I eat before leaving. And presents me with a plate of mafé.

Mafé is possibly my least favorite of all Senegalese foods, and im not even a fan of Senegalese food. Its basically a very thick, very oily meat and peanut sauce dumped over oily rice. Yeah, not awesome.

So I spend about 10 minutes redistributing rice on my plate to make it look like Ive eaten and then were off on the best traveling experience ive had ever.

I’d never met the motorcycle driver before, and I briefly wonder what he thinks of me. Im pretty sure he can catch my reflection in his mirror and im grinning like a chessire cat high on x, but also I don’t care what he thinks because all I care about is that I get to ride on the back of a motorcycle down a dirt road past lazy cows and donkey carts.

Plus I have to hand it to the motorcycle dude (I can't say that I remember his name), he never stopped once, not for gaping holes in the road, not for a crowd of cows crossing, and at the same time, i felt safe the whole way. And also it was like the coolest thing. It was, of course, devastatingly hot, but being on the back of a motorcycle, there was a nice breeze, and i couldn't have been happier. The one downside was that i couldnt grab my camera and take pictures of the stuff we passed, most notably a nightclub in the middle of NOWHERE, like literally it was sand sand sand sand sand sand sand nightclub sand sand sand sand.

When I finally got back to Dakar, I like tackle hugged my little brother (Namm naa la terop, Diég!!) who I had missed so much. As much as I LOVED my week in Ndiébel, it felt really good to be home.

Strike Update

Woooo!!! Schools back! Senegalese teachers are no longer on strike, nor are the students. Also, as a result of the massive demonstrations last saturday, we have been having power cuts for about 2 hours a day, which believe it or not, is an AMAZING improvement.

Also I promise Im gonna add more pictures at some point, but internet here is sooo slow, said process is moving along...but very very slowly

Visit to Rural Senegal/the craziest awesomest most fucked up amazing awful week ever [part 1]

Saturday morning, I left for the Kaolack region of Senegal to work with APROFES, an organization that promotes the position of women in Senegalese society. Saturday afternoon, four other study abroad students and I arrived sweaty and tired and extremely cross from a four hour ride in a sept place on a road with potholes the size of meteor craters. Our driver did a fairly good job of swerving around them, but given how cramped the sept place is, my head was been banging against the metal ceiling of the car for a good portion of the ride, leaving me crabby and sore.

Thankfully, Senegalese like to eat later, so we arrive at Kaolack right at lunchtime. It’s ridiculously hot in Kaolack, so we end up practically chugging the 3 liters of ananas juice, fanta and coke that they give us along with lunch. After we’re done eating and we drink attaya, one of the women gives a presentation about APROFES.

The lady from APROFES seems to have approximately no information on what we’ll be doing in Kaolack, but instead asks us what our projects are, a question which we’re not really sure how to answer. Our study abroad coordinator told us that APROFES worked in 3 major areas: education, health and microfinance and I end up telling her that Im interested in health problems. Which I am, although Im also dying to get to see a school in the rural area. Unfortunately the woman in charge seems to take my interest in health as an avowed disgust regarding matters of education and microfinance.

In any case, Im not too concerned. From my point of view, I’m going to be staying in a small village where I don’t speak the language and am completely unfamiliar with most, if not all the customs, so anything I get to see is going to be an experience worth having.

We spend the night split up with various families in Kaolack. Outside of Dakar, power cuts seem to be noticeably less frequent, and my family drags the tv outside and we lay out on mats and watch the news about massive demonstrations that are going on in Dakar. The reports show the entire Place de l’independence filled with people shouting, giving speeches, and generally protesting Wade and the corruption of the government. The next morning, the driver picks me up fairly early, and we drive off to Ndiébel, a little village about 28 km north of Kaolack. Im a little nervous (what if my host family doesn’t like me? What happens when I have to go to the bathroom? What if there’s not even one single person who speaks French? And seriously, what if they don’t like me?) and a lot tired.

That Sunday, after they feed me French bread slathered in butter and café touba (Senegalese coffee, its really spicy and strong), Im shuttled around to every meet every person (it feels like) in the entire village. Im tired and the heat is exhausting me further, so I don’t really appreciate all the shuttling around. Later that afternoon, after we eat ceebu jen (like the national dish of Senegal), one of the men, Cheikh, hooks up with horse and cart and tells me to get on. Ever since I got to Senegal and saw boys running around on horse or donkey carts, Ive been dying to try one. They make it look so easy, standing on a rickety wooden platform so nonchalantly and periodically directing the horse or donkey.

The ride to the water forage is great. Im gripping the edge of the cart because Im a little alarmed at how bumpy the ride is, but I try to do it secretively. Im hoping I look too cool for school like I fit into village life no problem, but Cheikh catches my bluff, and chuckles at me as he slows the horse down to a leisurely trot.

At the forage, were joined by some other men and a boy about 20. The boy is insanely cute, aside from the browness of his teeth, but for once in my interactions with Senegalese men, this kid wont even look at me, much less ask to marry me. But then, maybe that’s why he seems so attractive to me, who knows.

We spend the afternoon sprawled out on straw mats, drinking endless rounds of attaya and playing some card game that I understand not at all.

Since cuteness with the blinged out baseball cap wont give me the time of day, I direct my efforts to conversing with Cheikh (he’s on the older side for me, but also quite attractive) and watching him make attaya. Its at this point that I discover that for each round of attaya, Cheikh is taking the shot glass we use to drink the attaya and filling it with sugar and dumping it in the teapot. And then doing that another 3 times. Im slightly disturbed by how much sugar Im taking in, in just one afternoon, but its far too hot to worry about such things.

That night, my village family lays outside and watches tv.

[Side note: Before I went to the village, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Ive stopped been in villages before and it had a very village-y feel. Check facebook for pictures of said village. There was no electricity, no running water, just a bunch of huts and one building all surrounded by a wooden fence. This village didn’t conform to that at all. On the one hand, there were the same wooden fences and tin walls and animals and dust roads everywhere, but on the other hand, there was electricity and a water pump outside and leather couches inside].

I end up sleeping for what feels like all of about 4 minutes that night. The family has put up a mosquito net for me to sleep under, but it has holes in it, and ends up trapping mosquitoes inside instead of keeping them out. Also, the heat. My god, the heat. I had thought it would get cooler at night, but evidentally, I was mistaken. Also, one of the wives crawls into bed with me at some point and proceeds to snore incredibly loudly and take up a good 9/10 of the space on the bed, including a portion of it that I was already occupying.

STRIKE! (stuck on campus)

Senegal & Education

Right, back to the study part of study abroad. So, for the past while or so the teachers of senegal have been on strike. Among other things, the government claims to have paid them, but they have received approximately no money. The strike went on for quite a long time, about two weeks or so, but it seems to have been resolved, at least for the present, well see what happens going forward.

This week, instead of the teachers being on strike, its the students. ENEA students (ENEA is the campus Im studying on) went on strike and locked down the school, in protest over disintegrating school facilities, poor conditions in the dorms, etc. As part of their strike, they've shut down the entire school. The campus is closed off by a cement wall, but normally there are numerous gates/driveways to get off campus. However, the students padlocked all the gates shut and wont let anyone on or off campus, so Ive been stuck here since this morning.

Inchallah, Ill be able to leave later though. As for as strikes go, its quite the peaceful strike, its just annoying being stuck on campus so long.

As far as the students complaints go, I believe I mentioned this before, but dorm rooms on Senegalese campuses routinely put about 6-8 students in one tiny room with 2 beds and infrequent power (although that last part isnt specific to dorms). The facilities can't at all be compared to American facilities and are close to falling apart in some sections. The students have been petitioning the school officials about this since November, but havent seen any response whatsoever, so their aggravation is understandable.

Travelling around Senegal:

Like i mentioned I already had spring break. For photo documentation of all the many insane amounts of pelicans I saw, check out facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=380124&id=667818503&l=5625c6d55e

Also you will note, I've made some progress in figuring out how to post pictures on the ol' blog, so on the side are some choice photos of the beauty that was Djoudj/St. Louis/surrounding areas.

On Saturday, I will be leaving Dakar for Kaolack, where I will be working with APROFES (Association pour la Promotion de la Femme Senegalaise...or for my english speaking readers, association for the promotion of the senegalese woman), an organisation which works in villages in the Kaolack area to empower women. Ill be there for about a week volunteering for them, and then it will be back to Dakar, for a hopefully strike free rest of the semester.

Travelling around Senegal, by the way, means taking a sept-place from the Gare Routiers Pompiers. If you went to the Gare and didnt know what you were looking at, you'ld probably think it was a junk yard for old trashed cars. FALSE. Those cracked junked up rusted excuses of station wagons are still running. The sept-place we took to St. Louis was possibly the most ridiclous "car" I have ever been in. Legitimately, before we left, the driver had to pick up the door and put it back on the car. Like re-attach the door. Personally I feel like at that point, it's time to say goodbye and scrounge up the money for a new car, but evidentally I am wrong about that.

About halfway through the 260 km ride to St. Louis, our sept-place broke down, which apparently is to be expected. The road to St. Louis is literally composed entirely of mechanic shops, a testament to the age and state of the cars being driven there.

So...we'll see how the drive to Kaolack goes, hopefully well!!!

SPRING BREAK wooo!!! + it's been awhile

And by awhile I mean over a month since I've updated this thing. And a lot has happened since then.

I spent a weekend in paradise.

Like no literally, this place was beautiful. If you ever happen to be wandering around senegal, not sure what to do, put going to Toubab Diallow on your list. A little town set on the caost, Toubab Diallow is home to an environmentally friendly resort where artists/musicians/dancers etc come for inspiration. And with good reason. Have I mentioned this place is stunningly gorgeous? Sadly I neglected to bring my camera to paradise, so I dont have documented proof. Oops. Guess you guys will just have to come visit me and see for yourselves.

Spring Break!!!

I went to Saint Louis for spring break. Also a gorgeous little town, though it doesnt quite rival Toubab Diallow in the OMG factor. About 60 km north of Saint Louis along the border is the National Bird Park (Djoudj). Djoudj is home to the world's 3rd largest bird sanctuary in the world and apparently orinthologists flock there (get it, like flock, like a flock of birds, because it's a bird park, oh man....) to catch a glimpse of the magnificent bird species there. Most notable is an INSANE collection of pelicans. Like seriously, SOOOOO MUCH PELICANS!!! but there were also crocodiles, numerous cows, monkeys, warthogs and camels. But mostly the pelicans. lots of pelicans.

Saint Louis is also home to some seriously friendly people. Just walking around the town, we got invited to drink attaya with so many different families (and when I say families, mostly it was men doing the asking, but whatever). Attaya, by the way, is the senegalese national tea (although, interestingly enough, attaya, much like the key ingredients in ceebu jen, senegal's national food, is not produced in senegal at all, instead its an import) and theres a whole ceremonial pouring of the tea, which im actually getting better at, although its hard not to spill. You have to pour the tea from several feet in the air into like little shot glasses. This is not the easiest thing to do, but after several lessons from a drunk old man in saint louis, i have almost mastered the skill.

Back in Dakar, everything's still going well. Last night we went out to a bar for salsa night (sadly my salsa skills were nowhere near those exhibited by the regulars there, but i gave it a solid try) and then we hit up Le Voyageur. Voyageur ended up being an amazing sweaty mess of an awesome night. Jens and I met this guy named Ismael, who we deemed the coolest guy there (read: the only guy there who understood that the concept of dancing and grinding are two separate and incompatible things). We totally got his number before we left. Then on the way home (this is around 5 am) we got stuck in traffic (really Dakar? traffic jams at 5 am??) but everyone got home safely, so all was good.

oh, there was a bit of a mix-up on the way over. I live way out in Ouakam, while the bar we were all meeting up at is in Sacre Coeur 3. So being the only Ouakam kid up for a night of dancing and steroid techno music, I gamely took a cab over to the bar, New Africa, by myself. Except that neither I nor the taxi-man knew where New Africa was, aside from somewhere in sacre coeur 3. But we got directions from a friend of mine who was already there. Basically, there are two boulangeries in SC3, she ended up in one, and i ended up at the other. And then I stood outside the boulangerie (kinda like a fancy bakery place) waiting for her to show up, and drunk men kept on insisting on buying me coffee. and i politely refused. and then they insisted i take 3 sips of coffee. and then drunkenly babbled about hospitality and generally made me question my common sense (if you're currently thinking to yourself, oh goodness gracious, why did they let that little kid go off to africa by herself, when she hasnt even the street sense to NOT stand on the street corner alone at night?? let me reassure you: sketchy as drunk men buying me coffee around midnight in idk where in dakar is, I was in fact standing outside of a bakery that was open and fairly happening, and there were several non-drunk men and women who looked like decent people around me and I was only alone for about five minutes)

OH GOD the BATHROOM

Remember how it was mardi gras a short while back? So apparently thats a big holiday with my family. Because I came home that day and like about the whole neighborhood was over and everyone was having a big party. I had a test and a presentation and frankly, i had to use the bathroom, so I wasnt really feeling the whole party vibe, but my mom, being my mom, of course started giving me beer the moment i walked in. Which I wasnt that upset about or anything. Until...I went to go use the bathroom. and there was...not a door on the bathroom. or on the shower room. Both of which open out to the courtyard, where there happened to be a huge mardi gras party underway. talk about awkward.

Fortunately however, the bathroom and shower doors have now been restored, leaving me feeling a whole lot more relaxed about, you know, like using the bathroom. and cleaner, since I can shower without giving an unsolicited show to the Ouakam populace.

Senegalese men are so attractive from the waist up and other stuff I keep forgetting to mention

Random Factoids about Senegal:

(and a word to those about to read this, you may be a little grossed out by this first part, so read with caution) So I dont know if y'all knew this or not, but they definitely dont use toilet paper in Senegal, and most of the toilets definitely dont flush. Instead they have what is essentially a teakettle in every bathroom and a faucet about 2 feet off the ground and you're supposed to pour water on yourself and use your left hand to clean off. Personally I have yet to fully embrace this aspect of the culture, so Ive kinda been relegated to carrying around rolls of toilet paper everywhere I go. And then when Im in a touristy place where they have american style bathrooms, I get really excited. It's quite an occasion.

Also, I was discussing with some (american) friends the other day, and we came to the general consensus that Senegalese men are hella attractive and super fit. Until you see their legs, which are invariably super skinny chicken legs. Not cute. Obviously Im generalizing, but for the most part, this generalization has proven true. Except for at this one beach, where theres always guys working out and mad props to them because working out in the sand in 80+ degree weather, like damn, I wish I had the stamina for that. Ive decided I will attempt such an endeavor at some point in my time here, but Im not sure Im ready for all that just yet.

In addition to being hella attractive from the waist up, Senegalese men are AGGRESSIVE in hitting on you. especially if the you in question happens to be a toubab. Notable instances have been the aforementioned marriage proposal on the car rapide and some guy who saw me walking down the street, turned around and followed me for a good hour while repeating how much he loved and just absolutely had to marry me and have ten kids with me that instant, regardless of my imaginary fiance waiting for me in america. However, again props to them, because while they are verbally aggressive, Ive yet to encounter someone who was actually ever legitimately disrespectful or physically inappropriate/aggressive. Mostly its just limited to being constantly (like constantly, and i mean nonstop every second of the day, constantly) told how beautiful you are/how much so and so misses you/how much so and so thinks about you (which doesnt sound like such a bad deal, but damn it gets annoying and at a certain point becomes pretty meaningless)

Dinner with the family:

If you don't know, Im usually vegetarian, but Ive given up on that here, because everything comes with meat or fish. And people, especially my host family, get really offended when I dont eat copious quatities of whatever food they've prepared (Im most likely going to be a good 100 lbs heavier when I leave here). So Im trying to be as accomodating as my stomach will allow me to be in terms of eating stuff I normally wouldnt eat. So for dinner a couple nights ago, my mom brings out the food. Normally there is one big platter, and sometimes we all just eat straight from the platter, and sometimes we get individual plates. This particular night, it was communal eating. So were sitting around a low table and in the center my mom puts the platter of food. Essentially, picture a sandy beach. But imagine that the sand was very dirty and there was algea all over the beach, so the sand was kinda a putrid gray green color. Voila, our dinner. Apparently thats what African couscous looks like. I personnally had been under the impression that couscous was a whitish yellowish grain sort of deal, kinda like quinoa or something, but evidentally I was mistaken. At any rate, it didnt taste bad, actually it didnt really taste all that much at all really.

For dinner last night, I had bonding with my brothers part two. We had rice and fish and they made me eat all the fish heads, because they thought it was hilarious because americans tend to you know, not eat fish heads and eyes etc. So they definitely expected me to be grossed out and refuse, but I dug in and ripped the lil fishies heads apart with my hands and ate it all and they were all charmed and told me I was like african at heart. Sadly my mother was not present at the time, because apparently watching tv is preferable to eating with her sons and host daughter, so she didnt get to witness this and consequently still thinks Im a snotty american who doesnt know how to chop onions without crying her heart out. but such is life.



Update on the whole cockroaches in the shower thing and introduction to psycho cat:

The hole in the shower is gone! (I cant remember if I mentioned this or not, when I moved in there was a hole in the floor of the shower instead of a drain and when I would go to take a shower, the cockroaches would crawl out and join me in showering) One day, I came home and the hole had been repaired, so now we have a real drain in the shower and no more fun friends. Score!!

On the other hand, we have a acquired a fucking psychotic cat that I hate wholeheartedly. I first saw this cat when I was chilling outside with my little bro. I noticed a little tabby cat sneaking into our house (since its built around a courtyard, theres not really anything separating outside from the actual living area...kinda hard to explain, at some point Ill put up pictures). I was all, oh cute a cat. Later that night at somewhere around 3 in the morning, I hear what sounds to me like a woman dying an excrutiatingly painful death accompanied by some intense hissing and rabid animal sounds. Turns out, tabby cat's favorite nightime occupation is chilling outside my room screaming and hissing and generally keeping me awake and annoyed. Another time, I had kept the door to my room open during the day and psycho cat snuck in and then terrified me half to death in the middle of the night. I woke up, it was completely dark, because of course there was no power and psycho was under my bed hissing and screaming like no other. Luckly I had a flashlight by my bed and the cat ran out as soon as I opened my door. But lesson learned, and now Im paranoid and check under my bed before I go to sleep to make sure theres no crazy cats there. fun times fa sho.

In terms of classes:

This is after all study abroad, so some learning is taking place too. My classes: Sante Publique (Public Health); Reglement des Crises (Crisis Management); Francais (Your basic French lit/grammar class); Wolof (Wolof); Culture et Societe Senegalaise (Senegalese Society and Culture); and this random Seminar about living in Dakar thats obnoxiously during my lunch period. All in all, the classes are pretty interesting, kinda slow paced, get cancelled randomly and the teachers know their shit. Its a good time had by all.

Im basically a chainsmoker now (Update on life in Dakar)

Going out in Dakar:

So for the most part, Ive been trying to spend as much time as possible at home, chilling with the fam, but I have taken a couple nights off from family bonding time to go out and about dakar. First time out, i went to a Youssou N'Dour concert. For those of you who havent heard of Youssou N'Dour, Senegal has two mega-famous singers: Akon, and Youssou N'Dour. Every Senegalese ever will cite Youssou N'Dour as their favorite singer. I had previously looked up some of his songs on youtube, and to be honest they didnt do much for me, but seeing him in concert was like hella magical. Additionally, he had the CUTEST back up singer ever and i pretty much fell in love. Senegal also has a very distinct dance style, and there were some amazing dancers in the group.

I'd also heard that the whole clubbing scene in Dakar is fantastic. Of course, I didnt hear that until after I'd gotten here, so I only brought one pair of heels here, and like no going out clothes. However, I made do with what I had. Last week, we all went out to Nouveau Afrique, a bar in Sacre Coeur 3 (ritzy neighborhood in Dakar). We stayed there until like 1:30-2:00 in the morning and then we headed out to a club downtown, called Voyageur. Basically, it felt like being in the U.S., but a couple years ago, because the music was all American pop music from a couple years ago. Then Saturday, we went out to Calypso, another club downtown. I was kinda hella sketched out at first, because when we got there (around 1) there were a bunch of European guys dancing with their reflections in the mirror and pulling up their shirts and checking out their abs (conceited much?). I was all for leaving and going somewhere else, but the guy we went with (Papi, who by the way, totally wants to marry me now) assured us that it would get better. Around 2:30, it got hella packed and we ended up having a great time there.

Getting Around Dakar:

Personally, Im a big fan of walking around Dakar, especially on the Corniche, which is right along the ocean and is hella beautiful. On the other hand, every road thats not the Corniche is ridiculously dirty. Its the dry season here, but nonetheless, theres frequently sewage water everywhere, not to mention, theres animals everywhere, so....Also, legitimately, like all of Dakar is under construction (theyre repaving the roads), so theres huge holes in the ground and sand/dust gets on everything, always, so i pretty much always just wear flip flops so as to avoid sand in shoes. As for the random gaping holes in the ground, this would not be a problem, except for the fact that they dont have street lights in Dakar (although if they did, it probably wouldnt make that much of a difference, as the electricity goes out all the time), so when it gets dark its all danger danger, so my walking in heels skills have been put to good use.

My lungs are pretty much dying though. In addition to the dust everywhere, the pollution is so bad. I was talking to a friend and we decided being in Dakar is basically like deciding to be a chainsmoker for the next four months, because legitmately im pretty sure the inside of my lungs is now black. EW. But whatever. Worth it.

Bonding with the Family:

So I have another brother!! This dude moved in with us, I think hes about 25ish, and Im pretty sure hes one of my host mom's nephews. He goes to University Cheikh Anta Diop, and hes really chill and super friendly. I ran in to him randomly when I was walking about and he took me and some friends around the University, showed us the dorms and told us about everything. The dorms are sooo tiny, theres one room about the size of a bedroom in Coles tower, and about 5-6 students live in each room. Theres also always people praying in the hallway, and/or outside the campus mosque. If you look at the dorms from the outside, everyone has a clothesline hanging outside theyre room and all the students wash their clothes by hand and then hang them up to dry outside. It kinda makes the dorms look like one big very colorful prayer chain thing.

My 18 yr old brother, Mikael, told me i was straight gangsta yesterday. We basically have bonded very well. Aside from soccer, la lutte (traditional wrestling) is the most popular sport here. So Mikael, Robert and I were watching it, and Robert jokingly suggests that Mikael and I should wrestle. So Mikael like cracks up, because he thought it would be hilarious for me to try wrestling, but i was like hell, yeah, lets go, right now. So he gave me a briefing on the rules of la la lutte and then i beat the crap out of him four times in a row. He was like WTF?!?! And i was like yeah, what now. Straight G for real.

My other brother, the philosophy major, has been questioning me non-stop on my feelings on such topics as death, fear of death, the effectiveness of prayer, God and sin, and other shit that philosophers think about.

My mom is hella into traditional gender roles, and i have yet to really bond with her, because the only time i feel like she's happy with me is when im in the kitchen cooking. Which is fine, but the constant reiteration of what my role as woman is and is not (pretty much everything she says to me is "since you're a girl...") is sorta getting to me (only the tiniest little bit). On the other hand, shes really nice and doesnt mind when i come home at 5-6 in the morning.

Random:

Im taking drumming classes!!! and loving it. Im gonna be hella cool when I come back and regale everyone with my drumming skillz.

Ive gone on a few adventures (read: ive gotten lost a few times) in Dakar, all of which turned out quite well actually. Aside from all the men trying to marry you, everyone is super friendly, especially when you greet them in wolof. The first time, I got on the sketchy white rape van (its the same thing as the colorful car rapide, except it follows a different route and legit looks like sketchy rape van) because the other girl I was with swore it went to Ouakam, which it did not. Also because some guy almost fell off the back of the car rapide we were supposed to be taking and was getting dragged along the ground (side note: driving here is so dangerous and I have seen some pretty scary shit in terms of cars, but that was probably the worst) after which a huge fight broke out, so we skedaddled. So we ended up out in who knows where, on the edge of Dakar, and the apprenti (thats the dude who hangs off the back of the bus and takes your change) laughed his ass off at us and then took an attaya (traditional senegalese tea) break and then brought us back home. So happy ending.

Because dinner last night was a FIASCO

Alright, so i havent really gone into much detail about my family, but just to recap. Mom is a widow, my older brother is 23, studying philosophy at university and kinda shy, and my younger brother is 18, really into american rap and pretty outgoing and friendly. My family is Catholic, so they have baby Jesus and Mary statuettes EVERYWHERE, and i mean everywhere in the house. For example in the living room place, theres at least 5 mary statuettes, alonmg with numerous pictures of various saints, jesus, etc. At the table where we eat, there is a baby jesus statuette overlooking the table.
Alright now for what happened at dinner last night. Like I said before, dinner/meals in general usually consist of rice and meat or fish. But last night, we had pizza. So, ok, thats a pretty american food, right? NOOO! My mom comes out to the table with a thin crust pizza, covered in, and i am so serious right now, eggs and a good 2 inch layer of french fries. Then she proceeds to cut up the pizza and stick it in loaves of french bread, making for a very...interesting pizza sandwich thing. But whatever, new country, new experiences, right? Next, my mom takes out a huge-ass can of beer, pours us each a glass and throughout the meal proceeds to pressure me into drinking more and more and more. I was like...oh...ok, well so this is how they do on a school night. Thats cool, i can deal with having a beer with my dinner and chillaxin with the family...but we're not done. Next, my 18 year old brother takes out a HANDLE of vodka, like a handle of vodka, at the dinner table and proceeds to pour himself a GLASS, not a little shot glass, but a GLASS of vodka. Meanwhile my mom is sitting there chuckling to herself and baby Jesus is peacefully watching over us from his perch above the dinner table and im trying really hard not to choke from laughing while eating my french fry/eggs/pizza/sandwich dinner thing. Soooo...then, the power goes out. I dont know if i mentioned but senegalese families tend to have dinner pretty late, so were now sitting there in absolute, like literally absolute darkness, my brothers chugging away at his vodka, my older brother goes and gets a flashlight and positions it so that baby Jesus is illuminated and then my mom pressures me to start drinking from the handle too. At this point, ive been drinking beer and water for a while, i kinda have to pee, but the only flashlight in the house is hanging over baby Jesus and I dont want to leave the rest of the family in absolute darkness while I go trekking off to the bathroom in semi-darkness, so I end up sitting at the table, drinking vodka with my 18 brother in front of baby Jesus and my host mom for a good two hours while we wait for the electricity to come back on.
Only in Senegal, man, only in Senegal

DAKAR!!!! and other random shit...

OMG, my first blog post!!
SO...ive been in senegal for a little over a week now, its taken for freaking ever to get this blog thing up and running though. Power cuts (coupures) are very common here. We lose power at least a couple hours everyday. Which is frustrating, but im getting used to it.
I moved in with my family on Friday, which was soo exciting. I was hella nervous, but so far so good. I have my own room which is cool, but i share a bathroom with the rest of the family. We live in an apartment built around a courtyard, which is cool, its kinda outside, kinda indoor. Which means its nice and breezy but LOUD as heck...
Dakar itself is awesome. Im right on the beach, which is lovely and gorgeous. To get around, you take these rickety ass vans that are painted fifty million different colors, theyre called car rapides. Theres a bunch of little boys hanging off the back and you kinda snap at them to get the bus to stop, then you squeeze on and end up sitting on some random persons lap...the first time i took one, the guy sitting next to me was staring at me and then went on a long ass monologue i broken french about how beautiful I was. I was like ummm...yeah...haha. So then i go to get off (to get off you bang on the roof with a coin or if you can see the guy in the back shout to him that youre leaving). So the guy grabs me by the arm and in the middle of this crowded ass bus starts declaring his undying love for me and tells me i cant get off until I promise to marry him. I was like ahahaha, no, i am not the gateway to a green card, sweetie. but all the best to you. and jumped off the bus. Thats pretty much a daily occurence here, everywhere you go, guys ask to marry you, even the little girls who are around my house ask me when im getting married or if I have a husband waiting for me back in the states. Im like, lol, NO!
My family people are really chill. I have two brothers, one is 18, the other is 23. And the mom, who is a widow. My family is actually catholic, which is crazy because pretty much everyone here (like 96% of the population) is muslim. i had breakfast with my mom this morning. Breakfast here is some bread and nutella or chocola (knockoff nutella, basically), and coffee too. Except senegalese coffee isnt actually coffee. My brothers and my mom put like 3 spoonfulls of powdered milk in a bowl, about 5 or 6 sugar cubes and half a spoonful of instant coffee and then fill it up with hot water. For our first breakfast, i put a instant coffee and and a little bit of powdered milk and they all just stared at me like WTF?!? Whats your problem? and laughed at me.
Every other meal is usually rice and meat or fish, eaten from a communal bowl with your hands. You have to kinda squeeze the rice into a ball with your right hand (its considered hella rude to use your left hand), which i am SOOO bad at. I basically drop half the rice all over me/the floor and then end up feeling like an incompetant toubab (american/white person/non-senegalese).
The first time i showered here was definitely also an experience. A lot of times when the power goes out, the water stops too, which sucks, if your covered in shampoo and all soapy and then standing there in the dark like umm....well what now? Theres also occasionally fun little friends (HUGE AS FUCK cockroaches) who like to come shower with me. EEP!! Im secretly stockpiling raid and planning a massive attack on them.
I havent been able to upload pictures yet, but hopefully thatll be coming soon...and then yall can be jealous.