You must flee the house: My last 72 hours in Senegal!

Well folks, in what can only truly be described as a series of unfortunate events I am back home from Senegal 4 weeks early!!!! Oh yes, I began writing this blog in a hotel room in Dakar and am now finishing it at my house in Tualatin. So for my last blog entry let me relay what has occurred over the past 3 days. I apologize in advance for not doing a good job at being able to fully convey what actually happened but I will try.

Our 5-week program officially ended last Friday, however there were a number of people who were going to be staying anywhere from a week (my roommate, Erika) to a month (me) after the program was finished. We were assured it would be fine to remain in the house where we have been living these past 5 weeks and everything seemed to be in order. Dennis came and talked to us about the prices and what it would end up costing each person was 10 euro a night. The only exception to this price was myself, I was to get "some kind" of a discount because I was staying so long.

Ok so fast-foward to this Tuesday. Dennis was out of town but returning that night and packing because he would be leaving Dakar. During the day on Tuesday, we were told that we would be having a meeting with the dean of the school, Abdul, at 11 am to just finalize pricing. A man who has been helping the program the entire time, Hady, came to make sure we were up at 10:30 and said he would be back to pick us up. Well he didn't come back until after 1 pm and I had left the house to go run errands, therefore I did not get to go to the initial meeting but was assured that it was alright and that I really did not need to meet with the dean because Hady was the one who would be collecting the money anyways. Note here something interesting: we were not allowed to give money directly to the dean ourselves but had to go through an older male intermediary, therefore we were completely under the control of Hady's schedule but to what extent we were not aware at the time. Tuesday night there was a REALLY bad storm and the power went out.

Wednesday morning rolls around and still no power, which means the fridge is thawing and creating a lake in the kitchen and we have no internet as well. Hady came Wednesday morning to tell us that he would be taking us to an ATM to withdraw money to pay for rent, he would take that money to the dean, and then he would return with a receipt. There were quite a few problems however. Many people needed to check there accounts online to make sure that they would not be overdrafting, however this was impossible to do at that point due to the power situation. Additionally, there was still not an absolute price I would be paying each night and no one had been given an individual bill, there was just an overall amount typed onto a spreadsheet. We told Hady a couple things, one being that I was going to pay less that what was listed because I had been told by Hady, Dennis, and Abdul that I would get a discounted rate and that if it ended up being more they could just bill me for the remainder, because what I have learned since I have been here is that if you overpay someone you do not get reimbursed. We also told Hady that we would not be giving him the money right then because of the internet situation but that we would be sure to go and get it as soon as the power came on and then we would give it to the dean ourselves. This actually seemed to really upset Hady, so much so that one girl who had enough money on her to pay rent just gave her rent money to Hady as kind of a way to make peace and not cause him to be so upset about everything. He left telling us that things would be fine and that we should call him when we had our rent money.  So far so good, we would get the money on Thursday and things would be fine.

Later that day on Wednesday, Erika and I are in the living while Emily is taking a nap when Hady enters the house and walks up to us and tells us "I have visited the dean, he is very upset.  You must flee the house tomorrow."  Obviously this came as a shock and Erika and I thought he was joking at first because he likes to give us a hard time.  However he became very serious and continued to tell us that we must vacate the house by Thursday, he was not kidding, the dean did not want to see us, and that he had the rent money to give back to the girl who had already paid.  Needless to say, we freaked out!  We woke Emily up and knew that we had to find the dean, even though we were told he would not receive us, in order to attempt to straighten things out.  We found the dean and the co-director of the program, Barbacar, together.  What was interesting was that Barbacar, even though we were his students, had no idea what was going on, the dean was going to evict us without even telling anyone.  It was shocking to think that someone would throw us out onto the streets and wash their hands of responsibility.  Anyways, we start to talk to the men in order to figure out what we did wrong, because we were not given a reason to why we were being evicted.  The dean just stood there and yelled at us, in French, that Dennis had left and the program was over and that he didn't do this for us but for Dennis and Barbacar and that the house wasn't a hotel....ok, so still no real answer.  It was so frustrating and terrifying not being able to explain what had happened, because they wouldn't let us talk, and to be told that something has gone terribly wrong but not knowing what it is and the dean looked like he had made up his mind.  Emily and I, both, had breakdowns in the office, resulting from being flooded with too many emotions.  Barabcar finally chimed in in the attempt to figure out what had happened but he was not really able to figure it out either.  The final answer we were given was that it was because we had not all paid together!  I'm sorry but that is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.  What we think really happened was that Hady was so mad at us for not allowing him to do his job the way he wanted to that he made up some excuse for why we would not give him the money (the dean was not aware of the fact that we needed to check our accounts and that as soon as the power came on we intended to give him our money all together).  Hady and the dean are brothers so it would not be difficult to convince the dean that we were contesting our rent amounts or were slacking off on payments.  I still have no concrete idea as to why this happened.  Anyways we worked everything out and agreed to pay all the rent money together as soon as the power came on.

Now what is important here is not so much that we resolved the conflict, what's important was the fact that it occurred at all.  Emily, Erika, and I left that office feeling ill; we felt to so vulnerable, upset, frightened, powerless, and, ultimately, betrayed.  We were told that these were people we could turn to for help once the program was over but the event that had just occurred refuted that notion entirely.  And as people were beginning to leave and I would be alone in a week or so, I started wondering what I would do if something happened to me and I needed help quickly.  No one would be there that could help me resolve any problem I had, there would be no way of ensuring that anyone would be available should an emergency arise.  The continued absence of power also contributed to this feeling that when conflicts do arise and you need to deal with them swiftly you might not be able to do so because of external forces.  However, we got back to our house that night and waited it out in darkness.

Thursday morning, Erika and I woke up and there was two inches of water on the floor of our room!  And the power was still out.  We spent two hours, literally, pushing the water out of our room, down the hall, and out the front door because the supply of towels and sheets we had was nowhere near large enough to soak up the water.  Finally, our neighbor came over and took apart our pipes but we had no idea if this actually solved the problem because the one shower taken early that morning by another girl would not have created the quantity of water that flooded the house.  And this was the breaking point.  I had come to the realization that I would be on my own for a few weeks and then I came to the realization that should something go wrong, like a flood, I would not be able to take care of it on my own but I would also have no one to call.  As far as I'm concerned the living situation had become unlivable; the house was no longer a place we could turn to when the problems or complications of daily life in Dakar were overwhelming, it was not someplace any of us felt particularly safe or welcome...

And that's when I called home.  I left Dakar early Saturday morning and arrived in Portland Saturday evening.  Thanks so everyone who has been reading the blog, sorry to end early.  I know this entry has a lot of negativity in it, however I really did enjoy my time in Senegal.  It was an experience that taught me SO MUCH about myself and opened my eyes to new ways of thinking and living.  I did not expect the intensity of the entire experience but I am actually glad it drained me so much, physically and mentally; I think it had the effect a cultural-immerison experience should have on people, I am just sad it ended the way it did.

Camels do not have the same type of hair as horses!

I am sorry in advance for all the typing errors in this entry. I wrote it on a french keyboard and basically do not have a clue what I am doing. If the spelling/grammar errors make you cringe you probably just should not read it because by the time my demented fingers actually figure out how to type I really do not care about anything else than clicking the POST button, sorry....

The past week has seen the wrap-up of classes here at Ecole Normale, therefore not much happened this past week other than lots of homework and presentations. Therefore, I had in my mind the idea to do a blog about the "trials and errors of senegal thus far" since my week had been pretty uneventful but I still needed to let people know I was still alive. But then the weekend came and oh what adventures we have on the weekends! At the end of this I will post a few pictures that are past due, from the trip to Gaya and Saint-Louis.

Saturday was going to be just a pretty lazy day. The program was officially over and everyone was pretty exhausted from the past week. Plus it was raining and; let me tell you, the rainy season has definitely started in Dakar. The past two weeks have seen HUGE downpours of rain, I felt like I should be in Oregon during the month of November. However, normally the rain stops after about an hour or so but lately when it rains it rains for half the day. But anyways I am getting off topic. So there I was just doing some work on the computer and my friend Brian invited me to go with him and our program coordinator out to the artisan market. I figured that I did not have anything else to do so why not? The market was actually really cool and I think I am kind of getting this whole bargaining thing down...maybe. But then after the market we went and got drinks (which turned into dinner) at the Point des Almadies, which is the western most point in Africa. So basically we sat at an open-air restaurant and drank wine and watched one of the most amazing sunsets I have ever seen. And life was good.

Sunday, three other girls and myself decided to go to the Pink Lake, which us about a 45 minute drive outside of Dakar. We had been told that we should not attempt to take public transportation and so we just hired a taxi. It was a good thing that we hired a taxi too because this place was in the middle of nowhere Senegal. We drove through three random shanty towns and then ocne we got through the last one it was still about a 15 minute drive into the middle of nowhere. However the place is beautiful and it is a real shame that it is so difficutl to get to. If the sun is just right Pink Lake is suppose to look pink, however this almost never happens but it is still worthwhile to visit it. The town in basically just a very small resort community, with a couple restaurants, pools, hotels, and marketplaces. If you get bored of the lake, the Atlantic ocean is also about a 15 minute walk away.

The first thing we did when we got to Pink Lake was to rent camels for 30 minutes. Oh yes, I have now officially road a camel!!! And I would like to say that I am not allergic to camels the same way I am allergic to horses, so we should have more camel-riding in the states. It was the weirdest thing ever! They didn't spit on us but they did groan a lot and at times were not the most docile creatures but no one was thrown off their camel, thankfully. We spent the rest of the afternoon eating lunch at a restaurant overlooking the lake, swimming in the lake, and buying small crafts at the market before heading home. The lake is known also for its salt content and swimming in it was the weirdest feeling. First of all the water was hot, not warm but hot, like a hot springs except it was a HUGE lake and not some dinky pool of water. The amount of salt in the lake also made it so that you were incredibly buoyant and could't really swim because it was like your legs were kicking air. Pink Lake was definitelt an experience though and I look forward to being able to explore Dakar and the surrounding area a little but more now that I have more free time.

A heads up though, I no longer have internet access in my house and have to use the public computers they provide for us at the university. So it might take me a couple days to respond to e-mails and the like but I will do my best.
This was us meeting the chief and his council in Gaya. We are treated as honorary guests wherever we go thus we had to make a formal stop to see the chief.
This is pretty much all we did in Gaya, sat around and ate. However, those cushions we are laying on were SO nice!
This is really the most I saw of Saint-Louis due to illness, it's a nice hotel though right?

This is when my housemate Jonathan made the mistake of allowing me to shave his head...it actually turned out really good! Jason you are next!

You win, Africa. You win! (Part Two)

Ok so let's continue where I left off before...I had just come back from a village "experience in Toucar and would be given one day of rest (Monday) before heading out on another 5-day excursion. For the amount of physical activity we did NOT do our entire group was unusually tired. I guess those really long bus rides will come back to bite you. Little did we know that the longest bus ride was still ahead....

Our itinerary for our excursion was
Tuesday - leave for the Village of Gaya, the home town of the Senegalese Program Coordinator
Wednesday - chill in Gaya
Thursday - leave Gaya for St. Louis
Friday - hang out in St. Louis
Saturday - leave for Dakar
*Note: Do you notice that out of 5 days, 3 of them include traveling, which means bus time?

Tuesday rolled around and we left the school an hour late, as usual. I am warnin everyone at home right now that for the first month back home I will probably never be "on time", in fact the words "on time" hold no meaning for me now and are more of a theoretical concept than a reality (just a heads up!). Us students soon learned what it meant to have a full day and our Senegalese school director soon learned what it meant to have to deal with cranky American students. We were on the bus for, probably, 3 hours or so when we pulled off the road to visit the house of one of the leaders of the Tijuana (sp?) Muslim brotherhood. He proceeded to give us a 2 hour lecture about the origins of his grandfather, who was one of the main organizers and founders of the brotherhood. The house we were in was the nicest house I have seen in Senegal thus far, it was incredible! It was spacious, had leather furniture, was air-conditioned, and would have been an upper-class house in the states. However, all I could think about during the presentation was that the man giving the speech was only wealthy and powerful in within the brotherhood by birth. No one outside that family, no matter how capable, would have access to the resources, money, and power he controls. And so all I could think about were the begging children who we had met right outside his house and the poverty of the whole town.

Anyways, we got back on the bus around 2:30, starving, because we hadn't eaten anything since 8:30 that morning. Before getting lunch we made a detour at a random town where we could order traditional Senegalese shoes. Yes, I did order shoes when I was there, of course! We then stopped in St. Louis for lunch (at 5 pm) at the house of an author by the name of Louis Camarone. We would be spending a lot of time with Louis when we returned to St. Louis in two days, but for right then we were only getting lunch. We got back on the bus and drove until we reached a sugar planation and packaging factory around 8 pm, so after dark. Besides the fact that the air smelled like Willy Wonka's factory, the place was pretty basic and we didn't see much besides sugar being placed in boxes. We finally rolled into Gaya around 9 pm! We were on the bus for about 12 hours! Mind you, if we had just drove straight from Dakar to Gaya, it probably would have taken around 5 hours! Oh well, we were there and the village was REALLY cool.

The house that we would be staying in was the house of our Senegalese program director and when we arrived they have cushy mattresses and pillows set up for everyone in a large open-aired room. It's hard to describe but where we were sleeping was kind of like the equivalency of a sunroom in the U.S, it was part of the house but detached from it. While in Gaya we ate A LOT and sat around A LOT. Wednesday, we saw the town's water irrigation plant and then the only other thing planned was a cultural "soiree" late that evening, so to fill the time we were instructed to eat and eat and eat. Good grief, Senegalese hospitality was getting to become a little much. They wanted to treat us so well that it was difficult to handle. For example, we were served two meals that consisted of only meat that had been saturated in this oily onion sauce. Oh boy, we all knew that that was gonna hurt later! The soiree that was hosted in our honor that night was incredible! It featured Senegalese wrestling and I kind of felt like I was in a weight room due to the mass levels of testosterone that surrounded me. But let me tell you, I have never seen a village populated only with incredibly, athletically fit people!

We left Gaya the next day for St. Louis and already the stress and fatigue from traveling plus the food we had been eating was starting to make people sick with stomach bugs. When we arrived in St. Louis two people were down for the count. Between the time we arrived and the time we had dinner, which was about 7 hours later that number had risen to 5 people. The following morning 3 more people, including myself, had succumbed to sickness, making the total 8 out of 13 students who were sick to their stomachs. I don't have too much to say about St. Louis other than the hotel we stayed in was right on the beach and was SO nice! It was air-conditioned and had a pool and everything! We left St. Louis the next day and made good time in getting back to Dakar, no stops this time, where we have spent the past couple of days recovering from being ill.

And that is where the blog title comes from. Because Africa pretty much wiped out our entire student group this past week, however we are all doing much better now and have become even more aware of the American food we miss because I do not think we will be eating large, traditional Senegalese meals for at least a week!

What's to come in the following weeks is that classes will end here and most of the students will be heading back to the U.S. within a week or two. However, I will be here for an extra few weeks doing what I want to do, keeping up with my french, and living the Senegalese life. I'll keep ya posted!

You win, Africa. You win! (Part One)

So I thought of just writing one LONG post about the past 10 days or so, but then realized that that was a horrible decision because so much has happened that the blog length would probably result in severe hand-cramping, on my part, and general apathy as the paragraphs continued, on the readers part, so I have decided to split this up into two parts. Today's part will focus on my village stay in Toucar, which took place last weekend (I believe it was July 11-12, maybe, I just don't know dates anymore).

Last weekend started the longest ten days of bus riding of my life! Our professor and program coordinator, Dennis Galvan, has been doing field research in this village for the past 20 years and brings students there each summer. We left our school around 9 am and did not arrive in the village until a little after 2 pm. The last hour of this bus ride was spent practically off-roading to find the village, as we left the main highway and meandered our way through the countryside. Apparently buses in Senegal also double as ATVs! Upon arriving in the village we were informed that groups of 2-3 people would be sleeping at different houses throughout the village, like a one-night homestay. I was paired with a girl who normally lives in the apartment, Savannah.

(The hut on the left is what most people had to live in, while the building on the right is similar to but not the same one I resided in. )

This village looked like something straight out of national geographic, grass huts and everything. A "house" is a collection of huts with a fence around it. However, as luck would have it, Savannah and I were put into a homestay that involved an actual house. We found out the history of it later, and came to find out it was the first European-style house built in the village. Now when I say house, this place was plush for the city, let alone the middle-of-nowhere Senegal. There was a large house, with indoor plumbing and a toilet (no holes in the ground here), a small separate house for cooking, and another small building that's purpose I never figured out. Those were the buildings in this "complex" which was fenced off by a large wall in which contained the most grassy front lawn in the entire village. I must say I was pretty pleased with our surroundings, since other people had to sleep on the floor and had cows in the room next to them!

I have never had so much food shoved at me as when I stayed at Toucar either. We were served lunch right when we arrived and were given a plate that would normally serve 6-8 people for the two of us! We then had to convince our hostess that we actually did like her food but simply could not eat that much. Dinner was served late, around 10 pm, and again we were given almost quadruple the food we needed. I tried Senegalese couscous for the first time at dinner. It was served with some kind of meat but it was so dark out you couldn't really tell what you were eating, I'm going to assume it was probably goat though, since that is a pretty standard red meat for Senegal. Senegalese couscous is not what you think though, since it is made out of millet and tastes absolutely nothing like the couscous you would be served at a Morrocan restaurant. It's just really grainy and the texture was really odd, but it was still really good, especially with the sauce they served it with. At breakfast we were just given standard bread and butter however we were served the best coffee drink I have had in my life. We were asked if we wanted milk or coffee and milk, not knowing where the milk came from and figuring it probably hadn't been pasteurized but not wanting to be rude and refuse anything we both opted for the coffee and milk, figuring that mixing the milk with something might help. Savannah and I did not get sick and the drink they served us was amazing!

Our one-night there was spent attending a cultural event they had arranged for us. But not before they made us into Barbies and dressed us up in traditional African clothing! We listened to traditional African music and dance, both of which were so much fun to watch. We even got up there and danced for a little bit! We made total fools of ourselves but they would not take "no" for an answer and so we danced.

The experience in Toucar was a lot of fun because we got to see the rural side of Senegal, up until this point we had only been in large cities. However, the lifestyle would not be my cup of tea. There was nothing to do but sit around and stare and each other. The one time we went for a walk we were bombarded by little children, some of whom had never seen a white person before and were totally confused, who would not leave our sides for the remainder of the night. Toucar had a lot less pollution than Dakar but it was too remote and calm for my tastes. I can see why many of the young adults of the village end up leaving, at least for a short time, for the bustle of Dakar.

Part 2 will come shortly and will be about my last 5 days...

I never thought I'd feel clean in Dakar, until I stayed a night in the Senegalese countryside.

I'm not dead but did not want people to wonder where I had gone, in terms of blogging. I was out of town last weekend, living in a village and I am leaving this morning (Tuesday) for a 5-day excursion to Saint-Louis. I will blog when I get back; don't call the embassy on me! :)

The reality of being a celebrity - my hands equal success!

These pictures are dated but they are from when we prepared yassa poulet (and saw the chickens die) at a Senegalese house.

Sorry that this blog is late but we have been so busy the past few days that I just haven't had time. We had the first of two Wolof tests we will be having these five weeks this morning. It went pretty well but I don't think the teachers reall care whether we get things exactly right or not. Wolof reminds me a lot of native american languages in the United States, it is mostly a spoken language, no one writes with it because if you can write you have most likely been educated in French. Therefore, the way you spell words is completely arbitrary, which is such a weird concept for someone who is good at spelling and makes sure that words are spelled correctly. Oh well, I'm learning to not care whether or not my Wolof is correct, we get laughed at if we can't speak Wolof or we get laughed at because we are white people speaking Wolof but people do appreciate us using Wolof so we attempt to incorporate it in conversations, no matter how much we may butcher it.

On Saturday we had our 4th of July celebration. Apparently since I was the one who suggested Sloppy Joe's people just assumed that I had made them before. If I have ever made them before by myself from scratch I don't remember whatsoever, but I whipped out some serious cooking skills and made sloppy joe's for about 20 people. I felt so domestic in my little kitchen, acting like I knew what I was doing, making sloppy joe's without all the necessary ingredients (cause they don't exist here) and no recipe. However, they actually turned out pretty good, not perfect but good. (This picture below is my roommate and I with one of our conversation partners at the BBQ).The funniest part of the night was listening to our Senegalese counterparts try to pronounce "sloppy joe". Maybe they just don't make that sound over here but the "py" immediately followed by the "j" sound really confused them and it was kind of rewarding listening to people struggle with the pronunciation as we've been doing in Wolof (some things are universal)! Overall it was a success and everyone had a great time, plus it was nice to get some sort of a reminder of American food. The picture below is my roommate and I with two of our teachers at the BBQ.

Sunday, a small group and I tried to go to the Ile de Madeleine, which is known for swimming and bird watching. However, a few people were dragging in the morning and we didn't head out until afternoon. By the time we arrived at the place where you rent boats to get to the island it was too late and we would have had less than 2 hours to spend on the island. So instead we found a restaurant overlooking an extremely populated beach and drank a bottle of wine, together not each! So Sunday didn't go quite the way we had planned but we'll try to go back to the island another time and anytime we get to go explore the city a little more is a good day.

Monday was our excursion to Touba. Boy was that an experience! It is the second largest city in Senegal and gives people insight into what a metropolitan city in Africa might look like without any European or Western influence. The city has always been removed from the direct influences of colonialism and Western development because the city has been planned and developed by the Mouride Islamic Brotherhood; however the reason the city has been able to flourish is due to its interaction with Western economies and markets. The Mourides first became wealthy because the founder was able to control a large workforce which was used to cultivate and export peanuts. The moment we arrived I felt a little out of place; we were going to be given a tour of the exterior of the Grand Mosque and we were greeted by people there to make sure we were dressed appropriately. I, thankfully, had an appropriate oufit on; a dress that went to the ground, a cardigan to cover my shoulders, and a scarf to cover my head. Every girl that was wearing pants or capris had to put on a wraparound skirt, as did girls who were wearing skirts that only went to their knees and not to the ground. We of course did not get to go inside the Grand Mosque however we toured around the complex where it is. There are multiple buildings in the complex; there are the graves of dead religious leaders, buildings to wash yourself in before going to pray, and mutliple prayer/reflection buildings that offer a cooler place to perform prayers. While walking through the entire complex we had to be barefoot, sand and marble gets hot after being in the sun for hours! We definitely drew multiple stares from people who were shocked to see a group of toubabs walking around in the mosque complex listening to a tour guide. There were an especially large amount of concerned looks from women who made sure to continually inspect us to make sure that we were dressed correctly and ready to create a stir if anything looked out of place.

After our tour we ate lunch at some random man's house (that's the picture below), I can't remember his name, and then were loaded back into the bus for the 3 hour ride back home. However we had to drop a few Senegalese people off at their homes and took the most random, bumpy, and awkward bus ride of my life through the streets of Touba. I think there might be about 4 paved roads in the entire city (this is the 2nd largest in Senegal remember) and everything else is ridiculously bumpy, covered with water which is most likely sewage, and littered with trash. I was in the back of the bus and quickly realized this was a bad choice when my friends and I proceeded to "catch air" whenever we went over a large bump, pothole, mound of dirt, etc. whish was about every 5 minutes or so! The potholes in Eugene are nothing compared to that bus ride. The second thing worth noting about the bus ride through the city, in fact all the way back to Dakar, was all the attention we received being a large white bus full of toubabs! So many people, especially kids, would wave to us and say hello and if they didn't wave they stared at us for an uncomfortably long amount of time. Now we have been receiving a lot of attention wherever we go, however I have never felt so much like a goldfish in my life! The children are by far the ones who pay us the most attention, which is fine because they are genuine and adorable, however we have been told on many occasions that they believe that shaking our hands will bring them good luck/fortune. Young adults and older people do not believe this but it is interesting the perception little kids have of you. Groups of toubabs are such a rarity here that people tend to do "double takes" a lot, one young man on Ile de Goree filmed us as we walked by a couple weeks ago!

The internship is still going well. Yesterday I got a taste of journalistic (I'm not sure if that's a word) protest. When I arrived at work the man, Ibrahima, that I will be shadowing told me that we would be going to a press conference where Farber Senghor, the Minister of Mobilization in the current government, would be speaking. I was pretty excited about the opportunity to see a head official of the government, I haven't even been able to do that in the U.S.! The conference was going to start at 5 pm so we left a little before 4:30. Upon arriving at the restaurant in downtown Dakar where the conference would be held, Ibrahima and myself were escorted to the front row of the room. I was literally going to be front row center for the conference, all around me were other members of the press, TV crews, and state officials! And I definitely stood out as being one of only a few women there and one of three white people, the other two were frenchmen. However, five o'clock rolled around and no sign of Senghor. Six o'clock rolled around and he was still a no show. Ibrahima left to make a phone call, assuring me that he would be back. At this point in time the room was completely full with many people standing in the back because there were not enough chairs. When 6:30 hit the first three rows of journalists stood up and walked out of the press conference, commenting on how disrespectful this was and they weren't going to take it. Just like that pretty much every journalist and over half the TV crews left! Not 3 minutes later the Minister arrived, mind you I am still sitting in the front row by myself because Ibrahima has not come back yet. All of a sudden he comes up to me, right as the Minister sits down at the front but there is still a lot of comotion, and tells me we are leaving. So as the Minister sits down the rest of the journalists leave the room and all that is left is one TV crew, a couple random journalists, and government supporters. I suppose that just goes to show that here in Senegal the press demand some measure of respect and when they do not feel they are receiving it, they walk out on you. I wondered if that would happen in the U.S. but then I also wondered whether Condoleeza Rice shows up an hour and a half late to her own press conference? Something to think about I suppose.

This weekend we are off to visit the small town of Toucar, which will probably be one of our only rural encounters while staying in the country. It should be an adventure! I promise I will add pictures to this blog in a day, if not later on tonight so be patient I just have to upload them!

Enjoy the hot weather back home 'cause it's raining here...go figure!

Well the rainy season has started...kind of! Apparently it really won't pick up until towards the end of July but the rain comes and goes in 20-30 minute bursts. It's really weird but it does cool things down a little bit and we have started getting some breezes during the day; breezes are now an exciting part of life! Because of the new weather I would like to take this time to address pollution and the smell in Dakar because the rain makes it worse! First off pollution...it is horrible! Because Dakar is in the beginning stages of development they are exponentially increasing the amount of trash/litter/air pollutants without coming up with ways to either reduce or contain this pollution at the same rate. There are diesel fumes EVERYWHERE and at times it can be difficult to take a deep breath. I haven't had that big of a problem however it adds a little extra discomfort to the people who have asthma. Furthermore, the pollution creates and the rain draws emphasis to the, at times, horrendous smell that is in some parts of the city. I'm really not sure how to describe it other than sewage because I'm pretty sure that is what is causing the smell. It is not constant by any means but every so often you get this huge whiff of it and it can be nauseating...by the time I come home clean air might seem a little strange!

This week also was the start of our various internship placements. Students have been assigned, in groups of twos and threes, to different businesses or oganizations where we work from 2-4 hours a day following classes. I will be working for the "Sud Quotidien" which is an independent, opposition newspaper in Dakar. So far it's been pretty fun, the french is a little intensive but the people I work with are great and really laid back. I am the only girl in an office working with a bunch of male reporters; within the past 5 days I have been asked twice whether I have a husband or want one! We attempt to communicate in broken english and french and when all else fails one guy just whips out his computer and begins using an electronic translator to get his point across. I will be shadowing one man who works on political articles, we already had one round of serious miscommunication the first full day I was there. He wanted me to look at a press release and produce a "resume", well translated a resume means summary, therefore I thought he wanted me to practice my french skills by summarizing the main points. Apparently a summary in Senegalese terms means to highlight the sections of the press release that are most important and cite these main points word for word while using your voice solely as a way to start sentences! When he had seen what I had accomplished in 2 hours he just laughed at me, however when he realized that I finally understood what he was talking about he got very excited and I think he believes that I might actually have a brain now! The internship will be great for improving my french skills and I will get a lot of insight into the world of Senegalese politics, especially since I will be going out on stories with this guy and having my work published in the paper!

School is going well, but Wolof at 8:30 in the morning can be a little rough sometimes! However, our Wolof teachers are so unique that they at least make it entertaining. There are two men, an younger one named Sallou and an older one named Moussa. The first day of class Sallou told us he had two wives and wouldn't be opposed to a third, especially one from America, haha! Sallou teaches us Wolof mostly in English however it is his hands that are unique. The man has the biggest hands and longest fingers I think I have ever seen! And he always talks using his hands which means you get distracted and then miss what he was just talking about, it's really a conundrum. The best way to describe the way his fingers move is to liken it to when you shake a pencil fast enough that it looks like it bends and is flimsy but really you know that it remains in a straight line; now imagine that but with fingers! Moussa doesn't really know english so he teaches us mostly in french but he is just this little old man who is so loud and repetitve that you can't help but laugh. The little guy is just too cute and he will literally repeat a word about 10 times very slowly and loudly, as if that would help anyone remember it better!

This week at the house saw the beginning of sick week. With the change in climate a lot of Senegalese people get head colds, which means people in the house also started getting sick. At one point in time over the past 7 days, 7 out of the 8 people in the house did not feel well. Yes that includes me...mom and dad I'm fine now it was only one day of feeling crummy and I never had a fever :) However everyone is pretty much fine now and I think next week will see a return to full health! Other than that things are pretty normal at our compound here. We are all so busy during the weekdays with school and internships that we have to take advantage of the weekends to do any real exploring. Tomorrow we are having a 4th of July party to expose our Senegalese hosts/friends to American cuisine. I figure it's only payback for laughing at us while we have been trying to eat with our hands these past two weeks! I'm not quite sure what the whole menu looks like but I know that we are for sure making sloppy joe's and s'mores. Oh yes, this will be entertaining! Sunday a small group of us are going to go and explore downtown Dakar because we haven't really gotten to stroll down and see what the metropolitan area looks like. And on Monday the program is going on an excursion to the city of Touba.

Touba was founded by Amadou Bamba, the founder of the Mouride Brotherhood, one of the many Islamic brotherhoods in Senegal. However, the Mourides are the most powerful, in terms of political and economic power. They partnered with the French during the colonial period and were the main producers of peanuts, most wealthy Senegalese elites belong to this brotherhood. Political influence is not direct, by any means, however the president of Senegal is a Mouride and there are some Senegalese people who fear that he might be granting them preferential treatment but that's debateable. The Grand Mosque is located in Touba and we have to dress extra conservative when we are there; shoulders covered and a scarf over our heads. It should be interesting but I'm mostly just excited to see other parts of Senegal outside of Dakar. Ok, I'm going to go take a nap but more updates to follow!

Technology ain't got sh*t on me! But in a modest society where do you hang the underwear?!

If you couldn't tell by my blog title, this weekend saw the first of many laundry sessions. We were told that we might be able to hire someone for very little money to do our clothes for us but when it turned out that it would actually cost around $1 per article of clothing we all re-evaluated that decision and just did it ourselves. Oh yes, I filled a bucket full of soapy water and another one full of clean water and washed my clothes in it and then hung them up to dry! I'm not really sure if I did it correctly and I'm not sure if my clothes are actually clean, but I will have mastered how to survive without the spin cycle by the time I get back home!

I do not have more pictures just yet but before I forget things I would like a make a few observations about life in Dakar and what I have seen...

Feet: Everyone's feet are dirty ALL THE TIME! I constantly have dirt and sand on my feet everyday. Because the roads are covered in sand and debris it is impossible to maintain any sort of feet cleanliness. And it is too hot to wear tennis shoes, therefore we walk around and sandals and just hope that sand and a little dirt are the ONLY things we get on our feet!

Organization: There is no real concept of time/order here, let me explain. People kind of run on their own time, especially when it is the weekend. If you accept an invitation to go to someone's house for lunch you can expect to be gone anywhere from 4-8 hours. The pace of my life is totally devoid of any consistency here and you kind of just have to relax and realize that you really don't have anywhere you need to be so just chill. Also, lines of any sort do not exist! That means no lines to get on or off a boat, no lines at the grocery store, nothing! I'm pretty sure the only reason I am able to pay for anything at the store is because people will let girls ahead of them, the fact that I'm white though works against me half the time and gives people the license to "cut".

Animals: Ok, this is less a general observation than a short anecdote. Within two days I saw both a cow and chickens get slaughtered right in front of me. The cow's death was a total coinidence, right place at the wrong time sort of thing. My friend and I were on an adventure, aka lost for an hour, and we had wandered onto a busy street. We happened to see a large canopy over the sidewalk with a couple cows standing and tied up to posts. We then saw about 6-8 people huddled over a cow that was subdued and hog-tied on the ground. At the exact moment we walked by they cut the cow's throat, spilling blood EVERYWHERE (there was no bucket anywhere to catch the blood and it just went into the street/sidewalk). We had to briskly run along because my friend is obsessed with animals and almost threw up/started crying. Let me reiterate that we were on a popular street midday on the weekend! The second incidence came when one of our senegalese conversation partners decided to teach us how to cook senegalese cuisine, which included coming up with a list of ingredients and going to the market to purchase them. And at this market is where I saw the chickens being slaughtered over a whole in the ground which is what held the blood. We, quite literally, picked out three live chickens and witnessed their demise. When we returned after they had been plucked, I was handed the plastic bag holding our chickens which were not warm but steaming hot! Ok I now know where my food comes from, I do not need to see it anymore! Mama, I should just let you know that there was NO concept of food handling safety when we prepared the senegalese meal and, yes, later on it did give me a stomach ache, but no food poisoning yet, yay!

More pictures to come and more stories from Senegal to follow! Since this Friday is the 4th of July we are thinking of inviting our Senegalese counterparts over for BBQ and exposing them to "traditional" American food; I am all for making Sloppy Joe's and watching them attempt to eat them just as they have been doing to us!

Why can't we all just be friends? Black and white cats are friends in Senegal!

This is our house!

A few days have passed since my last post but so much has happened that blogging might have to be a more frequent occurence, otherwise I will forget it all. A few updates...

The lake: It is under control...kind of. By under control I mean that we leave our bathroom door open and the woman who is hired to clean our house, Mami (pronounced mommy), mops it up every morning. There is a concept here called goorgoorlu, which means to make due with inadequate equipment. The Senegalese are used to it, and occasionally take pride in it, and we seem to be embracing the concept, at least mildly.

First Senegalese Meal: Two women prepared this meal for at least 6 hours and it was amazing!!!! The food was called yassa poulet (poulet is french for chicken) and was served communal style. It was mostly chicken and rice with A LOT of spices and some vegetables, but not a lot. The best part of the meal is that you have to eat it with your hands, your right hand to be precise. You grab a small handful of rice, chicken, and veggies with your hand and then squish it together to form a little ball and plop it into your mouth! I must say that my food-forming hand abilities were pretty amazing for a toubab (the Senegalese term for white person, kinda of like the word gringo). The trick is to it fast enough that the food does not have time to start running everywhere and getting out of its ball form. Nonetheless the food was amazing and I have decided that Senegalese food should be eaten whenever possible once I return home! To the left is a picture of yassa poulet, it tastes a lot better than the picture gives it credit for!

Exploring Senegal and getting aquainted with everything here has been great! The most difficult thing has been overcoming language issues. No one, and I mean no one, speaks English, not even a couple words and especially not if you are at a market and want to buy something. While everyone speaks French, their accent/dialect is extremely different and I can barely understand them and they can barely understand the French language I have been taught. Street language is also not French, but Wolof or a combination of French and Wolof in the same sentence. Which means that when people speak to us they combine two different languages but half the time you think its only one because the French dialect is so weird that in the end they could be speaking arabic because I have no clue what they are saying!

We have been immersed in French/Wolof though in our classes and because we have been given Senegalese conversation partners. These students are suppose to take us around Dakar, bascally wherever we want to go. They speak only in French and half the time get a little frustrated with us, but surrounded us with Senegal culture when they took our group to a street market! This market was the most intense/intimidating place I have ever been to! Not because it was scary but becasue there was so much hustle and bustle and EVERYONE wanted our attention because we are seen as walking wallets here! It is expected that you barter with the venders, something that is priced at 5, 00o CFAs can be lowered to 1,500 CFAs if you know what you are doing! Our conversation partner is so good at bargaining and I have been learning a lot from her...I'll have this bartering thing figured out in no time! We will be going out in Dakar again tomorrow I believe and I cannot wait to go explore some more. The city is so big and has so many amazing sites to see that you want to do everything and there just is not time! (The picture is of a housemate talking to my conversation partner, Adama.)

Today we went on our first planned trip. We went to the Ile De Goree, which is the exit point from which slaves were shipped to the Americas. It is an extremely pretty, although small, island, so much so that it is difficult to grasp all the history that took place there. For instance, one maison des esclavages "slave houses" is still remaining and I stood in the rooms where they kept the people for up to three months before shipping them out, the cramp spaces where they sent people to be punished, and the "point of no return" where they lined up slaves on two sides of a hallway and shackled them in pairs before loading them onto ships for America. It is very difficult to grasp the concept that over 20 million people passed over the island and around 6 million of them died either there or on the boat ride. A population of around 1.500 people now live on the island permanently and live via tourism and fishing. The best girls boarding school in Senegal is also on the island, each year only 25 girls from throughout the country are selected to attend the school where they will live for 7 years! Everything about the island is beautiful though! With so many adorable African children running around and munching on fruit!

Everything is going great at the house! My roommate, Erika, is funny and we get along amazingly well. Additionally, the boys we share a bathroom with are hilarious and we have begun referring to ourselves as the "Executive Suite". The married graduate student, Brian, has been given the nickname Papa Bear because he acts like we are his kids and takes on more responsibility than he should. Erika has been given the responsibility of the group cell phone and I have taken charge of morning tasks, like boiling water for coffee, because I am normally up first! The four of us, Jonathon is amazingly flamboyant and energetic, all have the same interests and travel likes and dislikes. Erika is one of the people who will be staying with me after the program is finished.

The top picture is of the "Exec Suite", Jonathon, Brian, Me, Erika...we were trying to look tough, I think. And the other picture is of a few of us at a night club listening to music at a benefit concert.

A few shoutouts before I peace out...

Mom/Bill - Shower curtains do not exist in Senegal, just like organized lines and traffic lights!

Daddy/Liz - I found out a way to eat salads...apparently the water here is fine and I can wash of any bleach taste it might have. The only problem is I have yet to see lettuce for sale!

Edith - At 6 pm each night around 1,000 Senegalese men go to the beach and do organized running/weight lifting exercises...they even bench wheels and people. I have found my workout haven!

Debi/Patty - Megan was right about the people here...that is all!

Izzy/Drea - A man walking down the street the other day started singing 50 Cent "In Da Club" to my friend and I!

Jason - You should be extremely jealous of all the amazing fruit I can get on every street corner here for like 60 cents!

I do have cell phone access here and my number is 221771588717

85 degrees doesn't mean anything when it is 90 percent humidity!!!!

So I have been in Dakar for two nights now and it has been nothing but a whirwind adventure. For the people I did not talk to on my way to Dakar, here is a quick rehash of my adventure to Dakar...

June 19th, 6:30 am - Flight out of Portland is delayed because they have realized that the right engine is leaking fuel and so they are calling a maintenance crew to come fix it. We are delayed for over 1 hour. On the flight the woman sitting one seat away from me got sick and ended up throwing up and fanning herself for the last hour or so of the flight, gross!!!

Arrive in New York over 1 and 1/2 hours late, thereby missing my connecting flight from New York to Dakar. Called my dad and was told that our travel agent had rebooked me on a direct flight to Dakar with South African Airlines. The man I talked with at the Delta desk sent me to the South African desk (in another terminal) without issuing me a new ticket and took up so much of my time that by time I got to South African Airlines they had actually shut down the check-in booths and the woman said I would have to stay in New York overnight. Called Howard, the travel agent, and he saved me a place on a Delta flight from New York to Brussels and then Brussels to Dakar.

June 19th, 7:30 pm - left New York for Brussels, 1 hour late, and had to rush through security to be sure and make the flight to Dakar.

June 20th, 11 am - Leave for Dakar from Brussels and sit in the 46th row (the last one) of the airplane. I am almost 100 percent sure I was sitting next to a criminal who was being extradited from Canada to Dakar. It seemed like the "criminal" was being escorted by a man in a green suit who received a first class meal while in the last row and the flight attendants were not allowed to serve the "criminal" alcohol, tea, or coffee. Later on I saw him being escorted around the airport by a security guard; there were no handcuffs but it was all a little suspicious.

Upon arrival in Dakar I was greeted by a man dressed in an African tunic who walked with a limp and did not speak English. I realized very quickly that my bags were probably not going to show up and therefore had to be escorted to a baggage claim room in the back of the airport, where I tried to communicate in broken French and English what my bags looked like and where they needed to be delivered. The man who was helping me decided that it would beneficial if he gave me his personal phone number, just in case I had any problems getting my luggage, and made sure to tell me that he was giving me, not only, the office phone number but HIS number. Oh boy, I had been in Africa for 30 minutes and already was given a man's phone number! After filling out my forms the man in the tunic,who I had assumed was part of the study program, led me outside and handed me off to Hadi, the real program representative, who did speak english and welcomed me to the program.

Hadi and I then drove to the part of the University where we would all be staying. The Cheik Anta Diop University is a very large complex, however we are living in a small section of the school that is called the Ecole Normale Superieure. They spilt the group up into 8 people living in a house (this is where I am) and 5 people living in an apartment. The house (which I will post a picture of later) is in a gated, however the gate does not lock, complex. There are 4 rooms which hold two people per room and there is one bathroom per two rooms. The bathroom that I share with my roommate, Erika, and the boys' room has a very interesting draining problem. There is no curtain so water gets all over the bathroom floor. This is would not be a problem except there is no way to drain this excess water except through the naturals holes in the ground or cracks in the siding, therefore we have a lake in our bathroom most days! We are still trying to come up with a name for this lake and I think we might settle on something that conveys the fact that small worms creep out of the siding and reside in the lake...we no longer walk in or around the bathroom without footwear!

A quick note about the house and our amenities...the house is really quite large and spacious. We actually have a wi-fi internet connection at the house, the biggest shocker ever! Also we get around 6-7 fresh baguettes delivered to our house every morning to go with the jam, nutella, butter, and cheese we are also provided. We also have a TV room complete with working television that receives about 5 channels; 1 is in French and the others are in Wolof.

I will talk more about life here in a couple days but here is a preview...we have already been to a live music club, seen the Senegalese equivalent of "muscle beach", had housemate drama because strange things happen when you put 8 strangers in a house together, and are about to eat our first traditional senegalese meal in about two hours (there are two women in our house right now cooking for us and it smells so good, by the way earlier this morning they were cooking topless!). More to come about adventures here and description of this place and its people!