BYOTP

I’m writing this now (in a word document) because I’m without internet, but I figured I should write while the experience is fresh.  I don’t even know where to begin!

I accidently just wrote three pages about the last three days, so I’ll put a reader’s digest condensed version of it up here for those of you who don’t want to read it all:  I’m settled in Dakar with my host family.  It’s a very big family and I’m still not really sure who lives here.  I know that I have at least 6 younger host siblings.  I’m still working on names but there is a 4 year old boy, a 6 year old boy, two 9 year old boys, a 13 year old girl, and a 17 or 18 year old boy.  They are all very kind and I’m having a fun time with the 4 youngest ones.  The food here is very different.  Lots of starches and mystery meat in mystery sauces.  It’s quite good though.  I hope to post again soon and feel free to email me anytime!

I’ll start by saying I’m in Dakar and I am safe and well.  There were four of us that ended up flying out of Seattle to Paris, and we all sat in a row which was nice.  After a nine hour flight, we got off the plane and met up with another girl from our group at the gate.  We had to go through security to get to our gate for the Paris to Dakar flight, but we had about 8 hours, so we weren’t rushed.  We eventually found the correct security entrance, only to realize that one of our group members was without her passport.  Momentary panic ensued.  Luckily it must have been a slow day in Charles de Gaulle airport, because within minutes there were at least 3 nice Frenchmen helping us out.  She figured she must have left her passport on the plane somehow.  She talked to the people at AirFrance and we waited about an hour and a half in a strange corridor of the airport.  Amazingly, the passport was recovered and returned safely.  We got through security, where we found another of our group members, ate some food, then found our gate.  We stumbled upon a “free wifi for 15 minutes” zone on our way there so we pretty much just stayed there until our flight.  Two more group members found us there.  The 9^th group member was flying individually from Dubai to Dakar, so that was all of us.  It was exciting.  We were all running on adrenaline and air plane coffee.  At 4:30 Paris time (3:40 Dakar time, 6:40AM Seattle time)  We hopped on our plane to Dakar.  That’s when the whole “oh my gosh we’re going to Africa” feelings really started.  By the time we finally got to Dakar it was around 9PM and I had been awake for close to 30 hours (I can’t sleep on planes, it’s awful).  So I was pretty much a zombie, but still, the adrenaline was powerful.  We walked out of the plane onto the tarmac to take a little shuttle to the terminal.  It was about 75 degrees.  I heard it was snowing in Seattle…fun… We waited in line for customs and it was crazy.  So many people, so many colors, so much Wolof (which is beautiful, but completely foreign).  We were sort of hassled into letting this old Senegalese man give us a hand with our luggage.  He was funny, but it ended up being a little overpriced.  We found the person who was taking us to our apartment and hopped into a van.  There were a lot of people asking if we needed taxis and whatnot.  It was all very overwhelming.  Everything here is a bit overwhelming, but that’s what I bargained for I suppose!  We got to our little apartment and our 9^th group member was already there (which was a relief because we really didn’t know when she was going to show up).  There was also a student from Penn University who is pretty much with our program until he leaves in about a month to study in Saint Louis (another city in Senegal).  I don’t think he was expecting a group of 9 girls, but he’s friendly and seems to be having a good time.  It was about 10 by the time we got to the apartment.  We put our luggage in our rooms and then it was dinner time (perfectly normal dinner hour).  I took the best shower, followed by the best sleep of my life.  This morning we were walked over to ACI Baobab Center, where we will be taking classes.  We had a little information session with one of the founders of the center, which was quite nice.  We then broke into groups of 3 and 4 and went on a little walking tour of the neighborhoods around the center.  It was all kind of a blur at that point.  People are always out walking, it’s very busy.  There are no stoplights, the roads are mostly unpaved, but some are paved.  Sidewalks can be paved, some are tiled, so are piles of rubble, some are sand.  It’s a mixed bag.  The air is nice, not too muggy or dry.  It was hot today! In the 80s easily.  Don’t worry mom, I wore sunscreen.  After the neighborhood tour we went to the apartment and sat around until lunch.  Lunch is always rice, with some kind of meat, some kind of vegetables, and some kind of sauce.  So that’s what we had.  I couldn’t tell you what I’ve eaten today to be honest.  It’s all pretty good though.  Completely new flavors.  It’s an adventure.  After lunch we got back in our small groups and did a more focused walking tour that showed us how to get from ACI to our own host houses and back.  To get to my house you have to cross a 6 lane freeway.  It sounds worse than it is.  But it sounds pretty bad…yeah.   Luckily there’s a very wide median in the middle, so you’re only crossing one direction of traffic at a time.  I was surprised when the guide didn’t simply show me the house, but actually knocked on the door.  We were able to go inside and I met my host Grandmother Anta ba.  I don’t think she speaks much French, and I speak even less Wolof, so meetings have been slightly confusing.  There were a couple of goats in a pen inside the door too.  There was one other younger woman here, not sure who she is yet, and two young boys who were quite friendly.  I know now they are my little brothers and they are 4 and 6 years old (I think).  The 4 year old is Mustafa and I’m still not really sure how to say the other one’s name.   They are very cute though.  We went and found a couple of the other houses, then went back to ACI for more information and a question and answer session with the host family coordinator.  We learned some interesting things.  For instance, in Senegalese culture, it is not rude to speak in front of people in a language they don’t know.  So that’s good, otherwise I would have been majorly disrespected today!  Again, Wolof is a beautiful language, and I’m having fun listening to it.  I’m finding that when people do speak to me in French, I feel much more comfortable to speak back to them than it ever has been for me.  I don’t quite know what it is.  Maybe the fact that I know they don’t understand English, or because it’s their second language as well, I don’t know.  It’s interesting and comforting though.  At 6PM we all got in a van and drove around to drop each of us off at our houses.  Luckily there’s a girl in my group that lives just a block or two away from me, so we will walk to school together.  Senegalese people are incredibly friendly and welcoming.  Almost overwhelmingly so, but it’s good.  I walked in, put my stuff down, half-assed some greetings in muttered Wolof, and they just told me to have a seat with them in the living room.  There was the grandmother, 3 of her daughters (I think), and the two little boys from earlier.  Having them there made it so much easier because, even though there’s a HUGE language barrier (the littlest doesn’t even speak French yet), kids are kids.  There’s an insane amount of non-linguistic communication that can go on, especially with kids, which is something I never really noticed before.  We all sat around for a little while, then more and more people kept coming in the house.  Oh yeah, one of the sisters is named Maggie, though I’m sure it’s spelled differently.  There was a man who I later found out to be is married to one of the sisters.  A 13 year old girl, an older boy named Muhammad, maybe 18 years old, and two boys that are about 9 years old (not that I’m counting the people or anything…).  I was just sitting in the living room, people were coming in and out, then, seemingly out of nowhere, everyone left the house except the kids.  So I was just hanging out with the 4, 6, and 9 year olds.  The two older boys had just gotten home from school and their French is quite good.  It’s been really fun to talk with them because they’re willing to explain everything.  They starting singing “If you’re happy and you know it” in English, which was very cute.  I sang along and I think it won them over.  I told them I had a book in English for them so I went and grabbed “Goodnight Gorilla” from my bag.  They were very pleased.  Each of the older boys read it out loud a couple of times, then after, one of them went through each page and explained what was going on in French.  It was perfect.  Mom would’ve cried.  I asked them the names of some of the animals in Wolof, but I couldn’t tell you now.  I guess it’s custom to give all gifts to the mother of the house, rather than directly to the kids though, so I held off on the rest.  When their mom came back I gave her all the gifts and they were very grateful.  The 6 year old said “tu es tres gentille Maggie!” (you are very nice!), it was sweet.  I had forgotten one of the gifts in my room and when I came back with it, the dad had opened the bag of teddy bears and finger puppets and he had a lion and a bunny on his fingers.  He as saying “Je suis un lion” and growling at the kids.  I think I’m going to like it here.  The boys were very entertaining, and we just hung around the house some more.  I live a block away from the neighborhood mosque, so I can easily hear call to prayer, which happens I think 5 times a day and consists of a man saying something through a huge speaker system.  Apparently it happens at 5AM, so that’ll be interesting.  At some point in the evening another man came in, who I found out (I think) is a brother of the three sisters I had met before.  So, an older man.  His name is Abdou and he’s the most helpful and kind person I’ve met so far (which is saying a lot because everyone here is helpful and kind).  He spoke to me in French and told me that I should really try to learn Wolof.  He said he is a very good Wolof teacher.  I took the cue and asked him how to say a few things.  It’s tough because I haven’t really seen anything written down, so it’s hard to discern some of the syllables.  That being said, it’s only recently a written language, so much of the time the same words will be spelled differently in different places.  Abdou was helpful and patient though.  At about 9:30 we ate dinner together on little stools over a mat.  It was a giant bowl of buttered spaghetti cut into little pieces with some kind of meat with some kind of sauce in the middle (see a pattern).  We ate with our hands and the mother kept putting more and more pieces of meat into my section and telling me to eat, “mange, mange, tu n’aimes pas le viande?” (eat, eat, you don’t like meat?).  It was good, but then I had to ask how to say “I’m full” in Wolof (sur na, that will come in handy).  After dinner Abdou took me to a little store down the way and bought me a 10 liter jug of water to keep in my room, which was very nice.  We were just hanging around the house some more and Abdou asked me if I had a computer with me.  I said I did and he took me up three floors to the roof of the house.  Panoramic view of the neighborhood and the open sky.  The stars were out and it was amazing.  He said that he used to spend a lot of time up there.  Also, at night, you can connect to the internet.  I’ve yet to try it yet, but soon I’m sure.  BYOTP, bring your own toilet paper, enough said.  The “going to bed” process here is a bit confusing.  All of a sudden everyone was in their rooms and the grandmother was sleeping on one of the 6 or 7 sofas.   Tomorrow is more orientation stuff.  I’m sorry this is so long!  I just wanted to write it all down because it’s all so fascinating and new.  Hopefully I’ll have pictures to put up soon.  I have a feeling my little brothers will put on quite a show for the camera.