Last night I had the hardest but best conversation yet of my time in Senegal.
In Senegal, homosexuality is ...
Unacceptable. Shameful. Sacrileges. Disgusting. Not natural. Not right.
Just recently there was a group of young men in Senegal who were beaten and imprisoned for staying in a hotel and being accused of "performing homosexual acts."
Upon our arrival here, we were warned--avoid the subject, and if you are homosexual, DO NOT admit to it, for it could be a serious danger to your safety and/or life.
It's no exaggeration to say Senegal is a truly homophobic state.
One of my Senegalese friends and I have been talking a lot recently--exchanging thoughts on cultural differences, personal beliefs, values, etc. In our few conversations, he's talked a lot about the universal bond between mankind, how he sees no difference between black and white--we're all just people. So taking him for a pretty widely accepting person, I felt disappointed but not surprised when I asked him about his views on homosexuality.
My friend explained to me that though he doesn't hate homosexuals, he is definitely not a fan. He said it's against his religion (Islam), doesn't think it's right, and just seems to want to avoid homosexuals if at all possible (an extremely tame and peaceful perspective compared to some others I've heard in talking with Senegalese students).
Again, knowing him to be such a compassionate person, it really hurt me to hear he didn't extend his love and acceptance of mankind to include homosexuals.
I shared my own personal experience in the United States having friends of all ages who are homosexual and how difficult it is to come to Senegal and be met with such hatred for some of my dearest loved ones. To turn the tables, I asked him to imagine what it'd be like for him to come to the United States and have people express hatred and desire for physical violence toward black people, knowing his closest friends and family fall under that category.
It'd be hard to understand. Why such animosity toward those you care about and know to be good people?
The whole conversation was a really respectful exchange, and we both listened and tried to understand the other's perspecitve. So thankful for that.
At the end of the conversation he actually thanked me for teaching him something new. In his 25 years of living, he said he has not once met a single person who said they accepted homosexuality. He has ALWAYS been taught that it's wrong, and he has never (to his knowledge) come into contact with a person who is homosexual, and thus has no personal experience with which to challenge what he has always known as truth.
Given those circumstances... how could you think differently?
It was helpful for me to understand some of the logistics of where this stigma stems from. Still, it's a hard pill to swallow.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
C'est comme ca
For the most part, Senegal has been really good for my temper. I've noticed especially as of late that things I would normally get really mad about I've begun shrugging off as no big deal. En francais, they say "C'est comme ca." That's how it is. I say that a lot here. For example:
In the morning when I go to take a shower and the water randomly turns off mid-shampooing... I usually just wait a couple minutes and it eventually comes back on
Also in the morning when I go to take a shower and wait for the water to get warm before remembering there actually is no hot water in our house
Or when my laundry dissapears for up to a week at a time and I find myself "toweling" off with my pajama pants
And today when we took a taxi back to school from downtown and randomly got a flat tire in the middle of a busy round-about during rush hour
...c'est comme ca!
Although, I haven't gotten over scoffing at the poor customer service at roadside sandwhich shops as the cashier chats away on her cell phone and has no real regard for who was "in line" first. For the most part, they don't really do lines here--whoever shoves their way to the counter first gets helped first.
Is this what they call culture shock?
Oh Senegal. You're too funny.
In the morning when I go to take a shower and the water randomly turns off mid-shampooing... I usually just wait a couple minutes and it eventually comes back on
Also in the morning when I go to take a shower and wait for the water to get warm before remembering there actually is no hot water in our house
Or when my laundry dissapears for up to a week at a time and I find myself "toweling" off with my pajama pants
And today when we took a taxi back to school from downtown and randomly got a flat tire in the middle of a busy round-about during rush hour
...c'est comme ca!
Although, I haven't gotten over scoffing at the poor customer service at roadside sandwhich shops as the cashier chats away on her cell phone and has no real regard for who was "in line" first. For the most part, they don't really do lines here--whoever shoves their way to the counter first gets helped first.
Is this what they call culture shock?
Oh Senegal. You're too funny.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Classy
Believe it or not, I do actually go to school here. Homework doesn't happen that often and teachers can sometime be half an hour late to class or go half an hour over the alotted 1 hour 45 minute time slot. Morals of the story: On time is early here. Senegalese love to talk.
I'm taking Economic Development (in French) and that's been discussing how Africa has been/is being developed, why it's not working so well, and what it should look like instead. Super interesting material, and so far my lack of experience in econ hasn't been a strike against me.
French class is a trip because our teacher is this short but punchy little man, very animated... we were doing an exercise in class and I asked for clarification on a vocab word, what "raproche" means. As soon as I asked, he got right up in my face and started insulting me and telling me I'm a bad person. I just stared at him totally bewildered and kind of hurt--and then I realized. Raproche: to confront, insult someone. Great teach-by-example moment.
Fatou teaches our Wolof class and she's the sweetest woman, so patient, and the cutest little smile. There are only 6 of us in the class and we do a lot of practicing Wolof by saying sentences about where we're from, who is in our family, etc... so we've all gotten to know each other really well through that! Lots of laughs in that class as we stumble through learning the language. But it must be working because I've gotten to the point where I can sometimes recognize what people say to me in passing on the street, but the translation doesn't fully register til I'm about 15 feet away--too late to respond. It's coming.
We have a Senegalese Culture class which is sometimes interesting. The other day we took a field trip to an artist's village and got to see a whole bunch of different Senegalese artists and talk to them/see their work in own their creation spaces--LOVED, of course.
I'm also taking a seminar that meets once a week that focuses on living and learning in a different culture. It's basically a structured setting to process all we're experiencing here. One of our long-term assignments is to have a "langugage/culture partner" (mine is my 17-year old sister) and we are periodically assigned interview questions or conversation topics to discuss with them, then later reflect on in writing. Recently we talked about words of advice our parents gave us growing up and what/who we were named after, what significance that holds--so cool! It's great having a structure for those kind of encounters because it's something I want to have, but don't know that I would necessarily do on my own. Really cool class.
Last is my internship class. We meet once a week to discuss current events in Senegal and gain an understanding of how society works here. Then we have all day Friday (since regular classes are Monday - Thursday) to go to our internships. I'm working at L'Ecole Bilingue (the bilingual school, french-english--though there are many others with different languages in Dakar).
Friday was my first day and I was placed in the Special Needs class (HA I just proofread and laughed out loud! To clarify: as a teacher, not a student). There's a teacher and another assistant besides me, plus seven students ages 6-9 years. I would characterize the kids in the class more as quirky than learning disabled (though I suppose that's how all "special needs" kids ought to be characterized). Some have been abused, others were born prematurely so their brains just work a little slower--as the principal said, they all have their own story.
The goal of this class is to create a safe, supportive learning environment where these kids can go at their own pace and learn social rules, what's acceptable behavior... and eventually get reintegrated into regular classrooms. In fact, the one girl in the class just got news on Friday that she will be transferring back to a regular classroom because she's shown so much improvement. Her look of excitement and total pride was the dearest thing, so cool to see.
We all sit in chairs in a circle and have class that way. We speak French, but a couple students occassionally like to try out their English on me, too. The environment is incredibly encouraging, very uplifting with lots of affirmations all the time. Kids are so the same all around the world though--they just love poking each other and fidgeting and just being total twerps. So at the same time, it's a pretty funny contrast because the students have behavioral issues they need to straighten out, so at the end of the lesson, the teacher goes through and lists what everyone did wrong during the lesson and why it was unacceptable. I can tell already the teacher is fabulous though, really great with kids, so that will be so neat to work with and learn from.
As it happened, Friday was Madagascar Day (no, not the movie). Within the elementary school there are 33 different nationalities (so cool!) so once a month the school dedicates a day to celebrating one of those countries (again, so cool!). Everyone wore the colors of Madagascar's flag and the students from Madagascar came to school in their traditional dress and toured around the different classrooms, sharing about their food, outfits, and culture. We all got to sample some local food (fried banana something--delish!) and saw an exhibit with some of their language, handmade crafts for sale (yes, I purchased), and pictures of the landscape, animals and people. The entire school has such a bright, positive feel to it--I'm really excited for the time I'll get to spend there!
Not sure if you can tell, but I absolutely LOVE it here. Study abroad is the neatest experience, what a wonderful opportunity. Big, big fan.
I'm taking Economic Development (in French) and that's been discussing how Africa has been/is being developed, why it's not working so well, and what it should look like instead. Super interesting material, and so far my lack of experience in econ hasn't been a strike against me.
French class is a trip because our teacher is this short but punchy little man, very animated... we were doing an exercise in class and I asked for clarification on a vocab word, what "raproche" means. As soon as I asked, he got right up in my face and started insulting me and telling me I'm a bad person. I just stared at him totally bewildered and kind of hurt--and then I realized. Raproche: to confront, insult someone. Great teach-by-example moment.
Fatou teaches our Wolof class and she's the sweetest woman, so patient, and the cutest little smile. There are only 6 of us in the class and we do a lot of practicing Wolof by saying sentences about where we're from, who is in our family, etc... so we've all gotten to know each other really well through that! Lots of laughs in that class as we stumble through learning the language. But it must be working because I've gotten to the point where I can sometimes recognize what people say to me in passing on the street, but the translation doesn't fully register til I'm about 15 feet away--too late to respond. It's coming.
We have a Senegalese Culture class which is sometimes interesting. The other day we took a field trip to an artist's village and got to see a whole bunch of different Senegalese artists and talk to them/see their work in own their creation spaces--LOVED, of course.
I'm also taking a seminar that meets once a week that focuses on living and learning in a different culture. It's basically a structured setting to process all we're experiencing here. One of our long-term assignments is to have a "langugage/culture partner" (mine is my 17-year old sister) and we are periodically assigned interview questions or conversation topics to discuss with them, then later reflect on in writing. Recently we talked about words of advice our parents gave us growing up and what/who we were named after, what significance that holds--so cool! It's great having a structure for those kind of encounters because it's something I want to have, but don't know that I would necessarily do on my own. Really cool class.
Last is my internship class. We meet once a week to discuss current events in Senegal and gain an understanding of how society works here. Then we have all day Friday (since regular classes are Monday - Thursday) to go to our internships. I'm working at L'Ecole Bilingue (the bilingual school, french-english--though there are many others with different languages in Dakar).
Friday was my first day and I was placed in the Special Needs class (HA I just proofread and laughed out loud! To clarify: as a teacher, not a student). There's a teacher and another assistant besides me, plus seven students ages 6-9 years. I would characterize the kids in the class more as quirky than learning disabled (though I suppose that's how all "special needs" kids ought to be characterized). Some have been abused, others were born prematurely so their brains just work a little slower--as the principal said, they all have their own story.
The goal of this class is to create a safe, supportive learning environment where these kids can go at their own pace and learn social rules, what's acceptable behavior... and eventually get reintegrated into regular classrooms. In fact, the one girl in the class just got news on Friday that she will be transferring back to a regular classroom because she's shown so much improvement. Her look of excitement and total pride was the dearest thing, so cool to see.
We all sit in chairs in a circle and have class that way. We speak French, but a couple students occassionally like to try out their English on me, too. The environment is incredibly encouraging, very uplifting with lots of affirmations all the time. Kids are so the same all around the world though--they just love poking each other and fidgeting and just being total twerps. So at the same time, it's a pretty funny contrast because the students have behavioral issues they need to straighten out, so at the end of the lesson, the teacher goes through and lists what everyone did wrong during the lesson and why it was unacceptable. I can tell already the teacher is fabulous though, really great with kids, so that will be so neat to work with and learn from.
As it happened, Friday was Madagascar Day (no, not the movie). Within the elementary school there are 33 different nationalities (so cool!) so once a month the school dedicates a day to celebrating one of those countries (again, so cool!). Everyone wore the colors of Madagascar's flag and the students from Madagascar came to school in their traditional dress and toured around the different classrooms, sharing about their food, outfits, and culture. We all got to sample some local food (fried banana something--delish!) and saw an exhibit with some of their language, handmade crafts for sale (yes, I purchased), and pictures of the landscape, animals and people. The entire school has such a bright, positive feel to it--I'm really excited for the time I'll get to spend there!
Not sure if you can tell, but I absolutely LOVE it here. Study abroad is the neatest experience, what a wonderful opportunity. Big, big fan.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Weekend of Dancing
It all started Thursday night at dinner with Pap. I had a fellow CIEEer over for supper since his prof in the states knows my host dad here. Somewhere in the dinner conversation we discovered we're all closet oldies lovers, and the night somehow ended in the three of us alone in the living room break-ing-it-down to Pap's best collection of disco hits. This was the perfect precurser to my weekend.
Friday was filled with many adventures--including my first hamburger in probably 3+ years! It was a heart attack in a bun, I'm telling you. Beef patty, a whole omlette, ketchup and fries all on one sandwhich. And that was the "hamburger normal"! So good, though. It weighed at least a pound on its own. But that was our dinner pre-dance concert at the Institut Francais in downtown Dakar. We had about two hours of the most INCREDIBLE break dancers--absolutely unreal, it was the coolest thing to watch!--and also unbelieveable traditional Senegalese dancers.
Throughout the concert I put a lot of thought into how one would describe Senegalese dance without actually demonstrating (which I am totally incapable of)... the best I can do is this: imagine you're practicing karate moves on a bed of super hot coals and you have fire ants in your pants. I'm serious. That's kind of what Senegalese dancing looks like. Frantic. What makes it incredible is that it requires a RIDICULOUS amount of energy, stamina, athleticism, speed, coordination, etc. and it looks completely frazzled, but when people dance in groups you can clearly see it's not totally sporadic because they're all doing the same moves! It's really something! YouTube it, really... never seen anything like it. But the "spectacle" was AWESOME!
Finished out the night doing our own dancing at a discoteq (sp?) til the wee hours of the morning, then woke up an hour and a half later (ouch!)to catch a bus to Touba Diallo. We (the whole CIEE program) spent our weekend at the most magical looking beach resort there, just a couple hours south of Dakar (actually only 30 miles away, but traffic doesn't move too fast here). There's a big (ooh I'm going to butcher this spelling..) Rostafarian community there... followers of Bob Marley... so lots of dreads and drumming. We had the opportunity to take Senegalese dance classes there, but I opted for the more relaxed batik-making session (painting designs on a cloth with wax then dyeing it--so neat!).
Several of us girls had an oh-so romantic Valentine's Day eve together, spooning outside under blankets with the sound of waves crashing against the rocks below and the most incredible clear starry night sky above us. We laid there exchanging what bits of sky knowledge we've retained from our respective astronomy college classes, pointing out all the constallations and planets we could identify... thanks, liberal arts gen eds! Made for a nice time. But then off to yet another "spectacle" of Senegalese dancing put on by some of the locals--so much, so intense!
I thought I'd have a break from all the dancing when I got home Sunday, but as it happened, my little cousin Mourat had his birthday party at our house... and all our family does at birthday parties is dance! So once again, we delved in and once again I was reminded of how rhythm-deficient I am. My favorite is that if you're bad at dancing here they say you're "toubab"... also the same word for "white person"... they are synonomous. With good reason. By far the highlight though was when my entire family, little cousins to older aunts, all started doing the "stanky leg" dance when that song came on. LOVE Senegalese family birthday parties!
Also, I think I've figured out why Senegalese rarely eat dessert. It's because at birthday parties they eat enough to carry them over for weeks (maybe months?) til it's time to celebrate a year in someone else's life. Seriously. We each had a plate with at least seven different kinds of cookies, plus super sugary and delicious homemade juice. Then came the two different kinds of birthday cake...not to worry, we got slices of both. And after all that, my sister still wanted to make brownies together for Valentine's Day ... :) Rainchecked that, but we still had dinner an hour later.
Uff da.
Friday was filled with many adventures--including my first hamburger in probably 3+ years! It was a heart attack in a bun, I'm telling you. Beef patty, a whole omlette, ketchup and fries all on one sandwhich. And that was the "hamburger normal"! So good, though. It weighed at least a pound on its own. But that was our dinner pre-dance concert at the Institut Francais in downtown Dakar. We had about two hours of the most INCREDIBLE break dancers--absolutely unreal, it was the coolest thing to watch!--and also unbelieveable traditional Senegalese dancers.
Throughout the concert I put a lot of thought into how one would describe Senegalese dance without actually demonstrating (which I am totally incapable of)... the best I can do is this: imagine you're practicing karate moves on a bed of super hot coals and you have fire ants in your pants. I'm serious. That's kind of what Senegalese dancing looks like. Frantic. What makes it incredible is that it requires a RIDICULOUS amount of energy, stamina, athleticism, speed, coordination, etc. and it looks completely frazzled, but when people dance in groups you can clearly see it's not totally sporadic because they're all doing the same moves! It's really something! YouTube it, really... never seen anything like it. But the "spectacle" was AWESOME!
Finished out the night doing our own dancing at a discoteq (sp?) til the wee hours of the morning, then woke up an hour and a half later (ouch!)to catch a bus to Touba Diallo. We (the whole CIEE program) spent our weekend at the most magical looking beach resort there, just a couple hours south of Dakar (actually only 30 miles away, but traffic doesn't move too fast here). There's a big (ooh I'm going to butcher this spelling..) Rostafarian community there... followers of Bob Marley... so lots of dreads and drumming. We had the opportunity to take Senegalese dance classes there, but I opted for the more relaxed batik-making session (painting designs on a cloth with wax then dyeing it--so neat!).
Several of us girls had an oh-so romantic Valentine's Day eve together, spooning outside under blankets with the sound of waves crashing against the rocks below and the most incredible clear starry night sky above us. We laid there exchanging what bits of sky knowledge we've retained from our respective astronomy college classes, pointing out all the constallations and planets we could identify... thanks, liberal arts gen eds! Made for a nice time. But then off to yet another "spectacle" of Senegalese dancing put on by some of the locals--so much, so intense!
I thought I'd have a break from all the dancing when I got home Sunday, but as it happened, my little cousin Mourat had his birthday party at our house... and all our family does at birthday parties is dance! So once again, we delved in and once again I was reminded of how rhythm-deficient I am. My favorite is that if you're bad at dancing here they say you're "toubab"... also the same word for "white person"... they are synonomous. With good reason. By far the highlight though was when my entire family, little cousins to older aunts, all started doing the "stanky leg" dance when that song came on. LOVE Senegalese family birthday parties!
Also, I think I've figured out why Senegalese rarely eat dessert. It's because at birthday parties they eat enough to carry them over for weeks (maybe months?) til it's time to celebrate a year in someone else's life. Seriously. We each had a plate with at least seven different kinds of cookies, plus super sugary and delicious homemade juice. Then came the two different kinds of birthday cake...not to worry, we got slices of both. And after all that, my sister still wanted to make brownies together for Valentine's Day ... :) Rainchecked that, but we still had dinner an hour later.
Uff da.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Lights Out
Lately I've gotten to enjoy some Dakar power outtages, and they're actually way more fun than the guidebooks and newspaper articles make them out to be.
The past two have come around supper time, so everyone bustling in the kitchen is suddenly left completely in the dark. I've got my routine down of dutifully feeling my way through the stairwell up to room to find my headlamp to "shed some light on the situation." It gives off great light and my mom lets me strap it to her head as she continues mixing and fussing in the dark :)
So after assuring the the family dinner will not be postponed any longer than it's already late 8:30pm set time, I usually go to enjoy the dark with my siblings.
The first time, my sister Mimi took me outside and we went for a walk to look at all the stars. Without the street lights, the sky in Dakar is spectacular! That coupled with the cool evening breeze made for quite an enticing pair. We came back to our house and sat on the front stoop in silence, stealing glances at the sky between watching the cars go by. Eventually the power came back, but we lingered a while to watch the night sky fade into the city lights.
The second time, Rose, Issa, Mimi and I were all huddled in the girls' bedroom, just talking. I asked them if they knew any good ghost stories, but no one volunteered immediately. So I decided I'd give them my scariest tale--unfortunately I think a lot of the suspense was lost in translation, and even my eight year old sister didn't seem too phased. But I think they at least thought it was funny. And really, when have I ever been one to pass up story time?
PS I made banana bread for my family the other day... "pain au banane" and it was a big hit! No measuring cups, but thank goodness my "eye-balling" skills came through. Next attempt will be brownies. Wish me luck!
The past two have come around supper time, so everyone bustling in the kitchen is suddenly left completely in the dark. I've got my routine down of dutifully feeling my way through the stairwell up to room to find my headlamp to "shed some light on the situation." It gives off great light and my mom lets me strap it to her head as she continues mixing and fussing in the dark :)
So after assuring the the family dinner will not be postponed any longer than it's already late 8:30pm set time, I usually go to enjoy the dark with my siblings.
The first time, my sister Mimi took me outside and we went for a walk to look at all the stars. Without the street lights, the sky in Dakar is spectacular! That coupled with the cool evening breeze made for quite an enticing pair. We came back to our house and sat on the front stoop in silence, stealing glances at the sky between watching the cars go by. Eventually the power came back, but we lingered a while to watch the night sky fade into the city lights.
The second time, Rose, Issa, Mimi and I were all huddled in the girls' bedroom, just talking. I asked them if they knew any good ghost stories, but no one volunteered immediately. So I decided I'd give them my scariest tale--unfortunately I think a lot of the suspense was lost in translation, and even my eight year old sister didn't seem too phased. But I think they at least thought it was funny. And really, when have I ever been one to pass up story time?
PS I made banana bread for my family the other day... "pain au banane" and it was a big hit! No measuring cups, but thank goodness my "eye-balling" skills came through. Next attempt will be brownies. Wish me luck!
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Fam
"Don't be constipated, just let loose!"
-Serigne, CIEE Dakar Program Director on getting to know our host families
I've been with my host fam for just over a week now, and I've absolutely loved living with them! They are so dear, thoughtful, always asking how I'm doing, and oh so welcoming. My dad introduced me to one of his friends last night as his "eldest daughter." They constantly remind me that as a member of the family, I don't have to ask permission to join them on errands, sit down to eat, etc.
The family member break down is slightly complicated, but I will try to make it clear. The following are people I live with: Pap and Awa are my dad and mom, and I have two brothers Issa (22) and Habib (20) and two sisters Mimi (17) and Rose (8). My mom's sister Aisha also lives with us along with her kids (my cousins) Mama (20) and Dame (13). Whew. So I've got those down. Once again, they are all so wonderful and friendly and any freetime at home is spent with them talking, watching soccer on TV, listening to music and eating (sometimes all at once).
Then the other day at lunch, Awa mentioned her mother (grandma) lives just north of here in Saint Louis and she sometimes comes to visit. Oh. Neat. That's great!
Well then dinner came around and Aisha told me Grandma was actually coming to visit today and she'd be here "soon." Wow. Okay!
I literally turned around and they were wheeling her into the room to eat with us. And now she's staying for a month. HA. Feeling rather foolish and certain I had missed the announcement of her visit, I asked my brother later on in private, but he shrugged it off casually and said he didn't know she was coming either. Just a kick, I couldn't believe it... no one knew she was coming til that afternoon and now she's staying for a month. Total riot. Her son (my uncle) drove her down and finally realized after his four hour commute and eating dinner that he forgot his suitcase with all his clothes in it at home. My friends, this is Senegal.
I already have such a tender spot for old people, but here in Senegal, I can't even describe to you the joy they bring me! They are just hysterical. Most older folks here in Dakar grew up in rural areas and missed the whole colonial rule French influence bit...
So Grandma sits on her bed at our house in these magnanamous traditional dresses and headscarves, grandchildren silently and respectfully pampering and tending to her every need as she eats our rice-fish-and-sauce meals with her bare hands out of a bowl (the tradtional Senegalese way) all the while barking orders in Wolof for the rest of us to eat more, eat more.
So, so great. I feel older people here are more characterized as elders than grandparents. She just has such a presence. Even though I can't really communicate with her, she's a riot to be around, I just love it. :)
Since her arrival (in the past two days), I have also been introduced to two new uncles and I believe four new cousins. I'm still not quite clear on who they belong to or where they're staying...or for how long...but family members just keep popping up!
With all the visitors we've been having lots of treats, though. One of the uncles brought "cornie" (Wolof) with him--the fruit that grows on palm trees (no, not coconuts). It's the strangest thing, but you cut off the top of the fruit and dig out this slightly sweet but mostly bland jellyfish-like consistancy fruit with a spoon... I'm told there is no word for this fruit in French or English (ha! skeptical...) but it's good!
I've also been getting pineapple jam the last couple days with my regular half baguette for breakfast--so delish! All the students here have admitted how funny it is now that we get SO excited about fruit--simple pleasures!
I have to say though, Senegal is doing nothing for my table manners. Supper usually happens around 8:30pm and everyone congregates in one of the bedrooms (specific to my house only... I think most other families have dining rooms) in front of the TV, we lay out a mat, pull up a little wooden stool to set down this giant round dish of our warm meal, prepared by our maid. We pull up the beds and a couple chairs so everyone sitting around the bowl can dig in! Spoons are optional.
We usually eat some combination of rice, vegetables and meat/fish in a sauce--spicy and so delicious!! Everyone kind of assumes their own pie-shape area of the bowl to eat out of, and you just go from there. Whenever you're done eating, you just get up and leave, and people who are still eating can then redistrubute your leftovers to their sections of the bowl. I usually use a spoon, but sometimes it's just easier to use your hand. The mat laid out below is just one big napkin basically, so you can just spit your bones and meat fat out on the floor.
So basically any rules I've ever learned about proper dining etiquette are out the window. The worst is that we had a special guest over for dinner last night and I had to actually eat off a plate and use a knife for the first time in a couple weeks...I honestly didn't know what to do with myself. My mom told me not to worry though, I could go ahead and just use my hands...so I did :)
Apparently there are a lot of things in Senegal I've never heard of before, and my siblings are appalled to discover my extreme shelteredness...so much so that they've begun to doubt my knowledge of even the most basic things. It's come to the point where anytime they mention something they ask me if I "know" whatever it is they're talking about. The last few nights at dinner I've been asked if I "know" mayonaise and if I "know" penguins. Yes. Yes, I think I have heard of those a time or two before. Thank you. :)
Sometimes Senegalese French accents are a little hard to understand, but normally I can get what people are saying to me. For example, the other day on an excursion to Goree Island I could understand the man perfectly clearly when he came up and asked me in French if I was "enceinte"... pregnant. Sometimes I wish I didn't understand French so well...
Mk. I'm gonna go read the State of the Union address now, try to see what's going on in my country. And are the Olympics on yet? Still can't believe Senegal's not making a bigger deal of their winter events... given that this is their winter (people are getting sick because of "the cold") and it might get down to oh... 65 at night. Maybe. Geez...
-Serigne, CIEE Dakar Program Director on getting to know our host families
I've been with my host fam for just over a week now, and I've absolutely loved living with them! They are so dear, thoughtful, always asking how I'm doing, and oh so welcoming. My dad introduced me to one of his friends last night as his "eldest daughter." They constantly remind me that as a member of the family, I don't have to ask permission to join them on errands, sit down to eat, etc.
The family member break down is slightly complicated, but I will try to make it clear. The following are people I live with: Pap and Awa are my dad and mom, and I have two brothers Issa (22) and Habib (20) and two sisters Mimi (17) and Rose (8). My mom's sister Aisha also lives with us along with her kids (my cousins) Mama (20) and Dame (13). Whew. So I've got those down. Once again, they are all so wonderful and friendly and any freetime at home is spent with them talking, watching soccer on TV, listening to music and eating (sometimes all at once).
Then the other day at lunch, Awa mentioned her mother (grandma) lives just north of here in Saint Louis and she sometimes comes to visit. Oh. Neat. That's great!
Well then dinner came around and Aisha told me Grandma was actually coming to visit today and she'd be here "soon." Wow. Okay!
I literally turned around and they were wheeling her into the room to eat with us. And now she's staying for a month. HA. Feeling rather foolish and certain I had missed the announcement of her visit, I asked my brother later on in private, but he shrugged it off casually and said he didn't know she was coming either. Just a kick, I couldn't believe it... no one knew she was coming til that afternoon and now she's staying for a month. Total riot. Her son (my uncle) drove her down and finally realized after his four hour commute and eating dinner that he forgot his suitcase with all his clothes in it at home. My friends, this is Senegal.
I already have such a tender spot for old people, but here in Senegal, I can't even describe to you the joy they bring me! They are just hysterical. Most older folks here in Dakar grew up in rural areas and missed the whole colonial rule French influence bit...
So Grandma sits on her bed at our house in these magnanamous traditional dresses and headscarves, grandchildren silently and respectfully pampering and tending to her every need as she eats our rice-fish-and-sauce meals with her bare hands out of a bowl (the tradtional Senegalese way) all the while barking orders in Wolof for the rest of us to eat more, eat more.
So, so great. I feel older people here are more characterized as elders than grandparents. She just has such a presence. Even though I can't really communicate with her, she's a riot to be around, I just love it. :)
Since her arrival (in the past two days), I have also been introduced to two new uncles and I believe four new cousins. I'm still not quite clear on who they belong to or where they're staying...or for how long...but family members just keep popping up!
With all the visitors we've been having lots of treats, though. One of the uncles brought "cornie" (Wolof) with him--the fruit that grows on palm trees (no, not coconuts). It's the strangest thing, but you cut off the top of the fruit and dig out this slightly sweet but mostly bland jellyfish-like consistancy fruit with a spoon... I'm told there is no word for this fruit in French or English (ha! skeptical...) but it's good!
I've also been getting pineapple jam the last couple days with my regular half baguette for breakfast--so delish! All the students here have admitted how funny it is now that we get SO excited about fruit--simple pleasures!
I have to say though, Senegal is doing nothing for my table manners. Supper usually happens around 8:30pm and everyone congregates in one of the bedrooms (specific to my house only... I think most other families have dining rooms) in front of the TV, we lay out a mat, pull up a little wooden stool to set down this giant round dish of our warm meal, prepared by our maid. We pull up the beds and a couple chairs so everyone sitting around the bowl can dig in! Spoons are optional.
We usually eat some combination of rice, vegetables and meat/fish in a sauce--spicy and so delicious!! Everyone kind of assumes their own pie-shape area of the bowl to eat out of, and you just go from there. Whenever you're done eating, you just get up and leave, and people who are still eating can then redistrubute your leftovers to their sections of the bowl. I usually use a spoon, but sometimes it's just easier to use your hand. The mat laid out below is just one big napkin basically, so you can just spit your bones and meat fat out on the floor.
So basically any rules I've ever learned about proper dining etiquette are out the window. The worst is that we had a special guest over for dinner last night and I had to actually eat off a plate and use a knife for the first time in a couple weeks...I honestly didn't know what to do with myself. My mom told me not to worry though, I could go ahead and just use my hands...so I did :)
Apparently there are a lot of things in Senegal I've never heard of before, and my siblings are appalled to discover my extreme shelteredness...so much so that they've begun to doubt my knowledge of even the most basic things. It's come to the point where anytime they mention something they ask me if I "know" whatever it is they're talking about. The last few nights at dinner I've been asked if I "know" mayonaise and if I "know" penguins. Yes. Yes, I think I have heard of those a time or two before. Thank you. :)
Sometimes Senegalese French accents are a little hard to understand, but normally I can get what people are saying to me. For example, the other day on an excursion to Goree Island I could understand the man perfectly clearly when he came up and asked me in French if I was "enceinte"... pregnant. Sometimes I wish I didn't understand French so well...
Mk. I'm gonna go read the State of the Union address now, try to see what's going on in my country. And are the Olympics on yet? Still can't believe Senegal's not making a bigger deal of their winter events... given that this is their winter (people are getting sick because of "the cold") and it might get down to oh... 65 at night. Maybe. Geez...
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