Mangos

It's definitely getting to that time of the semester where I'm freaking out about all the things I still want to do, and all the things I'm going to miss. I still haven't gone to Magic Land. How can you not go to a place with a name like that? It's even on the Corniche! and has a ferris wheel!
Mangos - for 300 cfa, which translates into just over 1/2 a dollar - are the first things I thought of as a thing I'll miss/crave... I just had one for lunch today and it was incredible, and messy, and would not come out of my teeth.
Yesterday, because I should have been doing some transcribing of interviews, I instead followed Alisa to a cultural festival at her homestay sister's school (middle school and younger).
She wanted to film the opening ceremonies for her project. After explaining who we were to the guards at the school, one student led us right through the middle of the hundreds of students to the chairs in the front and center - reserved for the special guests and teachers. Slightly uncomfortable - as you can imagine we didn't quite fit in, and we were the first ones to be seated in that central section...

Somehow this festival made me miss Laurelhurst assemblies - like the rose festival. I honestly don't know why because I never won anything, and this one was much larger, more exciting and interesting...but it still made me wish I was 10 again. I could go for another round of "I am but a small voice..."
A choir sang the national anthem, a song from the Ivory Coast, and We are the World. Then the big finale - the crowd exploded, seriously they were loud, I don't know how many 100s of students were there - a group of little girls in the most amazing pink outfits came out and danced, accompanied by drums.

Just one small section of the students - singing along to Rihanna and Iyaz before the opening ceremonies started.
My view, right in the middle of rows and rows of students, before the other teachers and visitors arrived.
The best dinner we've made so far...courtesy of Devin and Abby. I think I stirred a few times, but Abby was just humoring me to let me feel like I contributed. She's a self-proclaimed master stir-fryer, so we let her do her thing.
Devin made the french fries. When you don't have sharp knives, the slices of potatoes come out in chunks, which makes it even easier to layer on the piment (hot sauce).
Oh, I took a bus! And was very proud of myself. Even though it wasn't going in the right direction and I ended up getting off and paying for a taxi like a true toubab...but still. I got on, and off a real city bus.
View from the bus. I took one of yellow car-rapides today. Another proud moment. On the way to an interview I took a taxi, which took about 20 minutes. On the way back I took the car rapide, which is about $2 cheaper, and three times as long. But worth it because again I could be overly proud of myself. And I got to ride next to a bucket of fish.

I got hit by a car

Technically. So I'm taking it as a sign that I have become fully accustomed to life here in Dakar. At the beginning of the semester one of the SIT staff members told us that bad things don't really happen to SIT students, until closer to the end of the semester. They say that during this time the SIT student tends to get very comfortable here, and forgets to take necessary precautions with security and safety issues. This is generally the time things get stolen...(knock on wood I still have everything I came with)...
So to get to the important point, the other day as I was walking to a library, I got hit by a taxi. Well, the car was moving, and the side-view mirror did touch my arm. In summary, I'm a real traffic accident survivor. I wasn't even texting or anything! There's just a lot of people and cars and no sidewalks, so it creates a "Frogger" like atmosphere. You know the game...you dodge through the lanes to get to the other side, and have about 3 chances. That's what I think every time I cross the street. Except for the three chances thing...
But a word of advice. If you think texting and walking/driving in the US is dangerous...well...don't try it here. Too many rocks, sand piles, vendors, people, goats and car rapides to do it. So don't worry Grandma, I only text when stationary.
This is the road right in front of my apartment. On the right, where the wall first becomes white, is my door. Fortunately, at the end of this street there is a boutique that sells hot sauce, chocopain, shaving cream, and 10 liter bottles of water, among manner other things. And if you continue directly across the street, theres a great Moroccan restaurant, La Halana - I guess we've become regulars because we now get free drinks.
Yesterday I wanted to take a car rapide downtown so I could feel real legit and comfortable with the city, but I think I took the wrong road - a road that the car rapides don't really go down - so I ended up walking about an hour and a half to the downtown (Plateau/Centre Ville). Saw some pretty cool grafitti along the Corniche.
When I got downtown I tried to by some t-shirts and jewelry, but got overwhelmed and ended up at the Institute Francais. There's a library, media center, outdoor movie theater and restaurant there. I decided I deserved lunch there, after my journey through Dakar, so I treated myself to the goat cheese, lettuce, apple and pita salad with fresh squeezed grapefruit juice.

This is actually not in downtown - it's in my neighborhood, Point E, just across from the University of Dakar (UCAD) on the avenue Cheikh Anta Diop. I went there the other day to talk to some students. And since I'm technically enrolled there (just for paperwork reasons, not actually taking classes there), I thought it would be appropriate to start becoming familiar with the campus.

This is the UCAD library, hidden within the endless city/campus of 60,000 students. I tried to check out books here, but was a little intimidated by all the people and books. So I just go there now to feel cool by flashing my library card at the security guard.
Since my independent study project is related to marriage, I went to a salon school near the SIT office. I came a day before they were learning marriage ceremony styles, so they invited me back the next day. This woman is in the second - and last - year of the school, showing off her style for a bride. Big, with flowers, glitter and a lot of fake hair seemed to be the preferred style.
This is just a small, small portion of a long mural of an interesting collection of world leaders and important figures. (Bin Laden is further to the right, Martin Luther King to the left, and many Bob Marleys). It's along a wall in the industrial zone of Dakar - which means it's on my way to one of the beaches I frequent in order to really learn about and appreciate the Dakarois culture. I'm pretty sure I need at least a few more trips to the beach in order to complete my comprehension...

It's ISP already?

The last month is here. Actually a week is already gone from this 4 week ISP period..which is crazy to think about. "Junior year going abroad" was always this distant, mysterious idea which I never expected to finally come.  I don't really want to be a senior yet.
Here's our family photo. Hard when the table is so low, and there was nothing else to use...so this was our best attempt. In this photo we're actually in the old apartment, before we moved in to the real one that was being occupied during a funeral.
(Part of Me, Devin, Abby and part of Jarvis)
Our real apartment - the window on the left is into my bedroom, and the window on the right is next to the door to my room. It's a half indoor/half outdoor style apartment - two bedrooms, a tv room, a huge bathroom and then a separate kitchen, another shower/hole in the ground bathroom, and an outside classy courtyard dining area.
Door to the kitchen, straight back is the front door.

This is taken looking right above the kitchen door. Our kitchen came pretty stocked - refrigerator, sink, stove top and about 30 spoons and forks...makes it less necessary that we do the dishes that often.
I went to the Goree Island again last week with Abby to visit the Musee de la Femme again, and buy some good touristy toys. When we were wandering around the island a woman told us to sit down and eat with her. She was cooking little donut balls and peanut sauce. Everyone is always demanding "lekkal" (eat!) and "toggal" (sit down). We didn't sit down, but did get a little bag of the donuts, which were incredible, and she had just made them on the side of the pathway, outside of her home, in a small grill.
This was on a toilet. It says "I love Goree" on the left - it's hard not to love it. The colors of the buildings, water and clothes are unreal.

More food...chicken crepe from the Ethiopian cafe. Makes for a nice break from bread and french fries and rice. And they have a copy of Harry Potter, and Vogue.
So theoretically I'm going to be having a lot of interviews this week for my project. My project has changed so many times, but apparently that has happened a lot in this program. There are just too many things to study, which makes choosing one topic impossible. But, as it is proposed now, I'm going to be trying to understand the ideas young women have on marriage here in Dakar - based on their religious and family background, and the influence of popular culture. I wanted to focus on polygamy, but for now that'll just be a part of the larger study. We'll see what it turns into - after I've tried to dissect the interviews in French.
I'm sitting here now almost paralyzed, thinking of all the things I want to do here before my time is up. That's probably not the best solution - doing nothing. So maybe I should stop this rambling post and go do something.

real coffee

I didn't think the amazing Ethiopian restaurant could get any better, but then they opened a cafe on the first floor with wifi and real coffee. So yeah, I'll be going there a lot now.
Last week was the end of my homestay. I moved out on Friday and was theoretically moving into my new apartment on Saturday. But someone died - we're not quite sure who - either our landlord, or our landlord's brother, or somebody's brother. So our apartment was in use for someone who came for the funeral. Right now we're staying in a different apartment (much nicer, which is nice because the landlord is paying the different) until tomorrow. We're supposedly moving in to our real apartment tomorrow. But if the funeral visitor wants to take their time, I really don't mind staying a while longer in the new apartment.
Anyway, above is Khrady Aita, the two-year old from my homestay family, posing for some photos.


Abdoulaye Diop, (my father), Oulinata Kebe, (my mother), and Ndeye Marieme Kebe, (her sister).
This is Fatou Diop. She makes sandwiches, juice, omelettes, fataya, french fries and coffee at a picnic table right across from our classroom. She's incredible.

The Internet is Working

So instead of doing some work on my project proposal, I'm going to use this bonus time and put up some more photos. I'm at my house right now, in my room, and we get internet here, every once in a while.
Juice (in our drumming workshop hut) - tamarin, bissap and bouye. The best is all three combined.
Mam Binta Fall (my French professor) taking the legumes out of the marmite.
I've never cooked so many vegetables without cutting them first. Saves time, and tastes better.
Keba Mane - Wolof professor and professional musician. Keeps saying he'll invite us to see him perform...it's been two months...still waiting.

Mam Binta and Fatou. They claim they didn't match on purpose. That's the plate of uncooked fish in the bottom right.

Art show the Thursday before we left for the village. It was about a man's travel away from Senegal to foreign countries, the things he lost and the things he learned. The artist had come to our class a few weeks before as part of a lecture. It was in Centre Ville, downtown Dakar, was free, and had food - my favorite type of art show.
The audience stood around the walls of the room, and some of the actors would stand up and wander around telling their story. They're covering their bodies with the blankets because sometimes travelers don't have all the necessary documents and try to hide from the authorities. I went with Abby and Alisa, and fortunately we met another student our age, a Senegalese girl, who acted as our guide throughout the show, letting us know it was alright to move around and take pictures.
Roof of hotel in Thies. We stayed here one night before going to visit the mosque, and before the village Mouit.

A kindergarten style class in the primary school in Mouit - this was Bintou's classroom (Fatou, my "sister's" daughter).
My mother (?) Aida, sitting by the cooking station.

The night of the grand ball/sandy dance circle, on the roof of my village house with Ngone and Astou (two of the girls who braided my hair).

Ndicke, Thione, Astou, Rokhaya, Ngone and Awa, on the roof during my photo shoot.

Clean Sheets!

Back in Dakar for one more week Chez Diop before I move out for the last month in Senegal. This last week I'll be theoretically putting together my project proposal, finding an advisor for the project, packing up my stuff, buying thank you gifts for my Dakar family, doing some French essay writing, and buying house supplies.









I finally accomplished one of my main goals of living with the Diops. I got a picture of Daba! She is the maid at my house who leaves every Saturday night to visit her family, then comes back Monday morning. She would never let me take a picture of her in her work clothes, and told me I had to wait until Saturday to take her picture. But I was usually not around when she would be in her travel gear...so it didn't work out until this morning! I was walking to school and saw her walking back to my house and cornered her in this boutique. So I finally got her picture. She has been an amazing teacher and friend for me in my first two months in Dakar, and has been so patient with my rough wolof and cooking skills. This really made my week.
Yesterday I "helped" cook lunch. I got to take the fish out of the pan. Yesterday was also the 50th anniversary of independence, but I saw more Easter celebrations, which was interesting in this 90% Muslim country.
Another family update, Khrady Aita got braids while I was gone. I was asked if I want them too, but I think getting my hair braided two times, in the villages, was plenty. My scalp is just now recovering from the nice grid burn I got in Moiut.

Naankat laa

Technically it means you drink by profession, as in you're a drunk, but I'm going to use a looser, nicer interpretation...as in I like to drink respectable things in general.

Probably my most favorite I naan-ed last week - ataaya and coconut milk. I made ataaya (Senegalese Tea) for the first time. The key is to pour it into tiny shot-glass like cups from far away, to make a good foam. It was my first time, as I said, so I think making it into the cup half the time was a pretty good record.
The other key to this drink is the sugar...it really doesn't taste so good when the cup of sugar to cup of tea ratio is not one to one.
This is the source of my second favorite drink. I took a horse/carriage/wood plank to the garden with Fatou, to see where many of the Mouit men go to work. When we were there, one of our friends had a little boy climb up a palm tree and shake down some coconuts.


When we got to our hotel in Saint-Louis after Mouit, Bouna - one of our academic directors - helped me crack into one of the coconuts.


The second red building, further to the right, was our hotel for four days - Hotel Sindone. Sindone means south in Wolof - we were on the southern tip of the small island of Saint-Louis, in the middle of the Senegalese River.





This is a view from the southern end, to the Pont Faidherbe, which connects the island to the mainland of Saint-Louis.


The boats are a view the other direction, to the island of fishermen, which is along the same strip as la Langue de la Barbarie, just next to the ocean.

Some more Saint-Louis. The European influence was really evident in the different house styles. This yellow one is courtesy of the Portuguese era of colonization.

This was meant to be. I had to go to her party. I think her name was Agnis...? Something like that with an "A." Her husband was in Mauritania, and she didn't want to celebrate alone, so this was her party planning method.