Au Revoir Dakar

Tuesday morning Grace and I decided to get one last run in before we left Dakar. Our departure date had been pushed back so that our professor, my uncle, could be in Dakar for the memorial service of his nephew, my host mom’s son, who passed away last year. I knew he was coming over for lunch and that there would be a small service. Because my mama said nothing of it, I assumed it was jut a small family event. That was not the case.  

I returned from my run to find a large stack of chairs in the courtyard and a few family members and friends milling about. I hopped in the shower real quick wanting to be out and dressed before more people arrived. In the next half hour or so the whole neighborhood was congregated in our house. The living room was filled with men and the courtyard with women. The men were praying, led by the chants of another uncle, the women simply praying in silence facing Mecca. It went on this way for about an hour, listening to the chants of the men and occasional comforting of my mama when she would break down in tears.  I can hear the chanting of prayers from my house each evening but it is usually just background noise to my life. Surrounded by silence and with nothing to distract me I really listened to the chanting and it has an extremely calming effect. Even though I was glad to be able to offer my prayers and condolences, to be there for my maman, I couldn’t help feeling I was intruding on what should have been a very private time. She has told a few stories about her son and shared some photos with me, but that doesn't change the fact that I never knew him and have only been with her for a month.

After the service was finished people slowly began to disperse and only a few family members stayed for lunch. Everyone who attended the service or stopped by at any point during the day was given a small gift bag, me included. It contained an assortment of cookies and chocolates, a bag of water, and carton of milk-they don’t refrigerate those here. 

Around 3:30 Grace, Lauren and I hopped in a van with our professor said ‘au revoir’ to our families and to Dakar. We’d only been in Senegal for about a month and all of that time adjusting to the culture of the city and our families. I felt a small sense of sadness to be leaving a city that was just starting to become home, but at the same time anxious to see more of Senegal.

Keur Massar, the monastery with no monks

This Sunday we were planning on taking a trip to Keur Moussa, the monastery were they are known for great goat cheese and gregorian chants. All the guidebooks say to take bus 17 from Dakar to Rufisque, where you have to switch busses. Once on the second bus tell the driver where you're going and he will drop you off at a signpost about 1.5 kilometers away from the monastery. Then to get back, you have to ask around and find a 'taxi clandestine' that will take you to Rufisque were you can catch a bus back to Dakar. When Grace was asking her host brother where one would find 'Bus 17' we were relieved to hear there's a different bus that can take you straight to the monastery. It only cost about a dollar a piece round trip and takes about an hour.  When I told my mom about our plans I was curious as to why she was so surprised that we would be back in time for our tour of the suburbs in the afternoon...

So Sunday morning a little after 8 we headed to the bus stop and make our way to what we thought was Keur Moussa. I know the population is about 95% Mulsim but I still found in odd that nobody we asked seemed to know what we were talking about when we asked about the monastery. Though somebody was kind enough to point out the local Church. After attending Mass-almost 2 hours long with no gregorian chant-it was pretty obvious we weren't in the right place. Happy to have experienced a Senegalese Mass but a little disappointed we didn't find the monastery we boarded our bus and headed back to Dakar.

When I got home my family was curious about our trip and what we were able to do in such a short period of time. One of my uncles, who also happens to be the professor who was taking us on a tour of the suburbs later that day, seemed incredulous that we made it there but couldn't find the monastery.  I told him nobody seemed to know anything about a monastery and the Church we found had no monks. Then he asked how we got there, a taxi? I proudly said nope, we took a bus! He gave me a funny looked, asked my mom something in wolof, then burst out in laughter. After about a minute he explained, 'There's no bus that goes to Keur Moussa, I'm pretty sure you guys were in Keur Massar." So our exciting first trip outside Dakar was actually just a long bus ride to one of Dakar's suburbs, which happened to be included in our tour that afternoon.

What might seem like a wasted morning however, was quite enlightening. I've probably already written more than you want to read at one time and I haven't even mentioned our afternoon tour so I'm just going to give you a short list of the more shocking experiences of our bus ride.

• Detours in Senegal=drive into oncoming traffic
• Busses have no set capacity
• Seeing a LIVE sheep be stuffed in the trunk of a taxi

After our morning of navigating the public transit system it was a relief to have a taxi with air conditioning for our tour of the suburbs. I won't go into too much detail about the different areas we visited, but two in particular are worth noting.  The first is a large green space located east of the city, in which people are banned from building. From a distance it looks like a beautiful park with a small lake, what my prof calls 'The Central Park of Senegal.' Upon closer look, there are piles of trash along the bumpy dirt road that runs through the space and small shacks for the people who farm in the area. Apparently it is only closed to formal construction.

The second thing I wanted to mention is the city's landfill where all of Dakar's trash is dumped. Located just outside one of the suburbs, you can see pillars of smoke from the burning trash for blocks. Lauren and I were trying to take photos from the car so our professor asked to driver to stop. Then he said, well why don't we just go in. Yes, why not drive through all of Dakar's trash.

As we drove through the landfill we started to see little shacks constructed literally in the trash. My professor explained that the people living in the trash work in the landfill. These people sort through the trash pulling out plastic bottles, aluminum cans, fabric, and other scrap metals that they can resell. I guess this is Senegal's form of recycling. Needless to say it was disturbing to see people living among trash not to mention the pollution created by burning their trash.

All in all it was an informative but exhausting day and I was happy to spend the night hanging with my family.

Sorry for the long post, but tomorrow we leave for Saint Louis for two weeks so I probably wont have any updates for a while. 

Overstimulation

I've been having a hard time describing exactly how I'm feeling about my time in Dakar so far and after this weekend I was finally able to put my finger on it. The word is OVERSTIMULATED. Everywhere I look there is something new to see, hear, and smell. Everything I eat has a new taste and sometimes a new texture (stories of the dreaded supakanja to come) And as if eight hours of class aren't enough to get me thinking, I go home and attempt to decipher the melange of Wolof and French being spoken by my family. Even playing a card game as simple as Crazy 8's (known as American 8 or 151 here) with Grace's family takes some thought.

Not that I'm not complaining. I didn't travel 4,500 miles to have the same experiences I do in the States.  This weekend however was a nice repose from the hustle and bustle of the city and gave me some time to process all that has happened in my first month here. Yes, its already been a month!

Outside the cafe at the French Institute, looking like Grace's twin.

The first break for my senses came Friday night when we headed downtown to L'Institute Francaise to watch a documentary on the independence of Senegal. After the film we had dinner at The Institutes cafe, where they serve salad! Fresh vegetables are somewhat of a commodity here. My salad consisted of fresh greens, tomato, cantaloupe, grapefruit, orange, apple, and sauteed mushrooms and beef with a citrus vinaigrette. Lauren, on the other hand, was slightly adventurous and decided to order a salad with gésiers, not knowing what they were at the time. Turns out they're gizzards, which are a bit chewy but quite tasty.

Picnicking on Ile de Madeleine

Saturday we decided to get up early, grab a few snacks at the Casino (local supermarket) and spend the day on L'Ile de Madeleine. Naturally, having adjusted to Senegalese time, it was close to 2 by the time we made it to the fish market, where you can catch a ride to the island. After bargaining a bit with 'the captain' we settled on a price of 5,000 CFA ($10).  The boat ride to the island took about 15 minutes in a pirogue, which is a fishing boat similar to a rowboat/canoe with a small motor. The island itself is made out of volcanic rock, covered in tall grasses and dwarf baobabs.  As we approached the island, our captain navigated his way to a small alcove were we found beautiful shell beaches, a clear swimming hole, and the only five other people on the island.  We ate our snacks on a small grassy plateau at the top of the island with a great view of the city and spent the day exploring the island and swimming. At one point our captain, who remained on the island with us, showed an alcove that was beautiful but not too different from others we had seen, apart from the fact that it was a bit of a hike away. Only after we had returned did he tell us he took us there because it is know as the cove of serpants...

Our captain with the 'pirogue' we took to the island

I could have spent a few more hours on the island but our captain said it was time to head back around 6. After the ride back I can see why. The tide was coming in and the waves getting bigger sending a continuous spray of saltwater my way. The sun was setting and I was wearing sunglasses simply to keep the water our of my eyes. I was sufficiently dry be the time we walked home and probably could have salted a years worth of the country's peanut crops with what salt was left on me, my hair, and my bag.

That was about it for my little break from mental stimulation. We jumped right back into things when one of my professors took us on a tour of Dakar on Sunday...and that's why i want to go see the goat cheese monks!!!!!*


       *I thought I'd leave that last little line from Grace who's wanting to go see the Abbey of Keur Moussa, where they are known for their goat cheese and mix of Wolof and Gregorian Chant. 

At the lighthouse during our tour of Dakar.
 My professor with a small child who attached herself to Grace's finger and
proceeded to tour the lighthouse with us. Don't worry we gave her back before leaving.

The rest of the week's been filled with academics and family time, though I think we're having another go at HLM market tomorrow and working on some plans for this weekend. Hopefully I'll get to write once more before heading to St. Louis on Tuesday.

Oh, and Happy 18th Birthday to Dylan! Sorry I don't have a better way of being in touch, but I hope you had a great day and all is going well with the college search.

Back to School

This past week has been focused on academics. With eight hours of class three days a week, and four hours of class the other two days, it’s difficult to find time to get out and explore.  We have either Dakar in Transition or Senegalese River Valley from 9-11, Wolof from 11-13, a 2-hour lunch break, then Seminar from 15-17, and finally History of Islam from 17-19. That gives me about two hours to relax and get home before dinner, which is usually served around 21 (9 pm).  After dinner I usually spend some time with the fam and doing my homework before heading to bed at a time my Pappa finds amusingly early.  We did, however, manage to discover an outdoor bar conveniently located just around the corner from school and I was able to find a Church not too far away that I will be observing as part of my research of Catholicism in Senegal.

Classes in Senegal are very different from what I’ve become accustomed to at K. In addition to being in French, they are generally an hour and fifty minutes of our professor talking at us, followed by fifteen minutes were we are supposed to share observations and ask questions. This particular style of teaching makes more sense when put in context. Senegalese students focus on memorizing facts and figures, whereas in the States it is more common for professors to emphasize critical thinking.  I have to keep this in mind when I find myself wondering why a lecture lasted close to two hours rather than twenty minutes.

That being said, we’ve had some very interesting discussions, generally spurred on by our professors’ desire to know how things work in the States.  I sometimes find I am more shocked by their perception of the U.S. than by how things run here in Senegal. My History of Islam professor, quickly becoming my favorite, is always making us laugh with his comments about the U.S. One day he was explaining that Muslims are obligated to donate 2.5% of their saving to the poor. After having given us all a hard time for emphasizing our need to save, being students and all, he ended the discussion by saying, ‘If Bill Gates were Muslim, WWOOOOWWW!! Imagine how much he would have to give!’ What with his animated teaching style and laid-back personality I am glad he teaches our last class of the day.

That’s about if for now. Tomorrow my mom is helping me talk to the tailor. My French is coming along, but not quite at the point were I can articulate what sort of dress I want made. Particularly not the traditional Senegalese outfit I am having made for Tabaski. (Tabaski is a Muslim holiday coming up in about a month, in which people get dressed up and slaughter a goat. That’s pretty much all I’ve heard of it so far but I’m sure we’ll learn more as the date gets closer.) Thankfully tomorrow is Friday, only a half-day of classes, and some exciting weekend plans ahead.

Hopefully I’ll have some more exciting news and pictures after the weekend.