Hey faithful followers whom I have left hanging for so long. I’ve been writing writing writing all day everyday for this 38pg paper in French. Yes mom it’s true, I actually buckled down and sat in the German Institute’s library for hours. Maybe it’s cause I’ve been blatantly told my French writing skills are subpar so I feel some sort of motivation to prove them wrong.

I’ll catch you up with a series a photos, as I tend to prefer since I can’t craft a sentence short enough to keep your full attention as you’re waiting for me to get to the dang point around my need to be witty and express myself in full accordance with the mood of the story being told. GASP.

1st we had our own potluck thanksgiving on the roof of SIT building.

Then Lala, Alexa and I did a lot of souvenir shopping at a market put on by the Peace Corps and went to Gorée Island again.

Somewhere along the way it was a goodbye party at TSX for the other volunteers and I.

And Alexa’s Bday.

After a full day of typing (literally 9am-8pm) we stayed at the Goethe (German) Institute for a café concert by Mellow Mark. An evening outside on the top floor meant we got to wear sweaters!

Then there was a “Christmas market” full of really cool and well made things but very expensive and not exactly Senegalese. Lots of European designers enhancing Senegalese themed items. But really cool associations selling things in support of women’s and handicapped associations.

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Followed by dinner at the French Institute, a bad choir concert, and then an AWESOME Youssou Ndour concert (naturally beginning at 2am).

Then end of the Semester party at school with all our families, great fun, food, dancing, live music, displaying our artwork etc (We just won’t talk about how my iPod was stolen out of my bag during this joyous celebration with people we are supposed to trust)

A few of us walked up to the lighthouse last night, found a path onto a cliff and watched the sunset while sipping wine out of plastic cups. AWESOME. See here the token Laurens of the group. 

Then Megan and I cooked for our lovely friends in the apartment where I have been mostly living this past month to avoid loneliness since my host family is rarely home and far from where everyone else lives. (finally used my jar of Skippy peanut butter for some incredible no-bake peanutbutter cookies=great life choice).

So at the start of this Advent season I was like “crap, I wish I was home where Christmas lights are everywhere and the music on every station gets annoying and Starbucks cups are red and you know it’s snowing and cold in other states!” But then, I had this revelation that I am in fact in a much more geographically accurate location to engage in Advent. Hello, Bethlehem is just a hop skip and a jump away. Awaiting the birth did not include spiced lattés, scarves and snowmen, it was sandy, dry and camel filled. Now, I’m into it. So I finally got out the uke and we sang Christmas songs and it didn’t make me sad, I was totally into it, while wearing my Senegalese outfit and breaking a sweat from sitting. Happy Christmas time in Sénégal :) Here’s that new outfit, a gift from my hostmom!

Not to mislead you, I’m still totally ready for all those ridiculous American traditions, but not going to complain about our next 4 days on the beach of Mbour in mid December either.

Much love to you all!

So ISP period has been a mix of fun/down time with friends, long days at the organization, and lonely time since I live kind of alone and far from the rest of our group. I feel great and sure about my project one day and then freak out that I’m not doing enough and can’t possibly create a worthy paper in such short time the next. It’s hard for a horrible student to create all work for herself let me tell you! It’s a good thing I’m really into my subject though. You might see why…

It’s hard seeking out and immersing myself the hard reality of poverty and children to learn about it and then call up my friends to go out and “experience” Dakar. I’m not here to change things, I’m here to learn things? You can see night and day here in the city. Across the street is a family who lives by begging and sleeps in someone else’s unfinished construction, while next to me is a man in a business suit and flashy watch eating cake and sipping juice at a chic cafe. Which Dakar do I participate in? 

Recent cool happenings… Soccer game at the big stadium with the leaders of TSX. Really cool atmosphere, drumming the whole time, gendarmerie ready with tear gas, lighting fireworks after a goal and lots of running around the stands. Instead of crackerjacks, the women and their kids walk around with fresh roasted peanuts, frozen local juices, crème and bags of water on their heads.

I have refused to spend $2 on taxi rides and use only local transport now and it’s awesome. Basically get anywhere for 20 cents on a crammed, rickety, bus/van making tons of stops, but it’s an experience every time and I don’t mind taking an hour to get where I need to be. I run on Senegalese time now. It feels good to know what line and stops and cars take me to and from TSX to school or home or almost all the way downtown!

Last night we went out in search of some live acoustic music and with the help of a Dakar calendar magazine ended up at a swanky Casino’s bar sipping complimentary sangria listening to great local musicians perform many American covers with a Senegalese vibe. And naturally spent $1 in the casino! It was my first and Megan actually won twice! Then replayed and lost…oops

Nynke, a Dutch volunteer at TSX happens to be a wonderful singer and brought her guitar! We went to the local cultural center, watched the dance troupe practicing and jammed with a djembe player in his office for a couple hours. So fun. She even had How Great Thou Art and Power of Your Love! My soul was rejoicing but also fighting off homesickness and the longing for my Church community I’ve been feeling lately.

Along the same lines, I headed straight to the local church this morning for mass and was overwhelmed by gratitude and emotion. The house was packed and many rows of chairs outside, but I was determined to be close so I could more easily understand and see. I stood awkwardly in the doorway for a few minutes and then the women on a tiny bench squeezed together to give me 5inches of space to sit. Emotional mess I was at the moment, I was so grateful I teared up haha. So silly.

Between the fact that it was catholic mass and in French I was impressed I understood at least 90% and soaked it all in. The music was beautiful, big choir singing with djembes and other traditional instruments. My favorite part was that all the songs were lively and joyful. It was happy worship and gave me such peace. Afterwards there was a party arranged for what I understood to be the liturgical new year? (Evan?) and I couldn’t help but laugh that men were sipping cold beers in the courtyard at 11am. Those Christians! Mouhamed forbids it, but Jesus didn’t!

Once again, thanks for following me through this crazy time!

This weekend 7 of us took a little trip back to a town we visited in the beginning of the semester called Thiès. It was our version of “sweet weekend traveling to other countries while studying abroad in Europe” only far less expensive and glamorous. We took a “sept places” taxi. AKA a half-broken wagon mobile from the 60’s with 7 seats. Saweeet! The drive was only 1.5hrs so not bad. 

It was awesome and good bonding, SHOPPING, and exploring time. 

Highlights:

-Our hotel listed as “a little gem” in LonelyPlanet also rented their rooms in 3 hour segments… ;)

-Spending all my money at the artisan village buying the best souvenirs, which some and most of you can look forward to! Hey Christmas!

-Getting kicked out of a taxi (cause we didn’t know where the hotel was) into the middle of a bus/vendor conjunction. Clinging to our recent bags of purchases, we were tapped and asked by 100 people “where are you going? what are you looking for? here, just get on the bus!”. We were so overwhelmed and helpless I just literally laughed, called the hotel guy and handed the phone to the nearest man to hash it out in wolof. Next thing I know he’s grabbing me by the hand and getting us in a taxi bound for the hotel…in the complete opposite direction naturally!

-Going out to dinner at the Croissant Magique which was…magical. Christmas (or fairy) lights, beer in wine glasses, pizza, ice cream, cookies and a live acoustic performer. I sang along joyously to Stand By Me and then because this was the only logical next part of the story, I ended up on stage, guitar in hands, butchering 2 songs and being oncore’d by a wonderful crowd of diners who came up to take pictures with me? hahah When in Thiès! 

-Our 20min arguing battle while swarmed by taximen at the taxi station trying to get a reasonable price to return to Dakar. Once again I couldn’t help but laugh as our group became increasingly flustered and demanding. I can’t do the shouting, demanding, bartering mentality here so I let others enjoy that when in large groups. I prefer calm reasoning, which can’t happen when 7 toubabs think they know what they want and how to get it via shouting in our feeble French. Or in Senegal at all really.

-Tired and broke, we discussed politics, international affairs and presidential happenings the whole way back. I loved it but my ignorance was conspicuous. What the heck university is about to qualify me with a BA in International Studies? That’s a joke. 

Let’s play catch up with some fun visual aids…

First, our last “class” was making Ceebu jën with our teachers. It’s the national dish “rice with fish”. I know, its name is ambiguous. Let’s just say I have tried my hardest to avoid lunchtimes where I have no escape because ceebu jën is served 8/10 times and FISHY. For those of you who know me, so all of you, fish is my kryptonite.

Yep that all gets nice n fried and souped up with veggies and more fried, mashed fish balls, then fish juce dripped alll over till you get….

Then I left for Saint Louis with the fam at 4am and it was a precious little family road trip that of course I slept for until we pulled over for roadside breakfast. We had to park the car across the island and take a taxi because my dad couldn’t let the family/neighbors know he can afford to drive/have a car? I’m pretty sure that would lead to lots of asking for financial favors of which Senegalese culture would make it hard to say no to.

We stayed with his mom in a little compound much like our first village stay. I stayed on the hard couch in the salon. They aren’t into comfy/cushy here. Pillows are like sacks packed with rocks and couches, covered boulders.

It was fun observing family dynamics. The grandma (Mame) spoiling Mouhamed and clinging to Amina, my mom taking on all the cooking and housework because that’s tradition. She would whisper to me little tidbits of background story and her perspective as the daughter in law. I loved it and felt like we were friends, and turns out she only just turned 30 so is even younger than I thought.

Mame was the total Matriarch of all and quite the business woman, running a personal freezer/ice business for the neighborhood.

Mouhamed got even whinier but loved hanging with the cousins and playing in the street which doesn’t happen in Dakar. Mouhamed in the middle of the boys, lunch on the far right.

Tabaski was intense. For a few hours. I woke up and put on my first outfit as instructed to begin preparing potatoes and onions for the soon to come meat.

The men went to the Mosque to pray and wait for the religious leader to kill his sheep first. All the boys were adorable in their boubous and carrying their prayer mats. Mouhamed’s signature sass.

Immediately upon their return the women all sat around on the mat while the men got right down to business. Three or four would pin down the sheep while my dad Ibou, had the knife. No easy way to describe the fact that they straight up killed 3 sheep 5ft away for me and I couldn’t help but watch and also keep my breakfast down the whole time. Especially when they carried them to my other side 3ft away to do the skinning and cutting. Whoo!

All the neighbors showed up suddenly and platters were brought out and everyone ate, then we went to all of their houses to try their Tabaski dishes, completing 4 different houses by the end. I was quite relieved to say sorry, can’t eat the meat! after the graphic preparation.

People are so proud of their sheep, the dishes and all, it was cool to be a part of. The best part is they hung the lining of fat on the clothes line to save for cooking later. Nothing goes to waste!

The eating and house surfing was over in a grand 30min and the rest of the day was sitting around to digest. At night you put on your fancy outfit and sit around at home which was very curious since they made a huge deal about these outfits and spend a lot of money on them.

I took a taxi back to Dakar with 3 other strangers at 4am, froze in the backseat with the ocean breeze but made it safely in time to celebrate Megan’s 21st Bday! which was a ridiculous, great, unforgettable classic night. And wouldn’t be complete without bday balloon crowns. 

So random but essentially we came upon a middle aged French man named Daniel here on business (spy/mafia certainly) who payed for absolutely everything all night it was impossible not to laugh at the situation, but I loved having lengthy conversations in French French and not spending money!

I played mom all night making sure things were safe and bday girl was alive. Favorite part of the night was when Daniel said “It must be your Polish blood that gives you this motherly instinct”. He left me with his number saying “if you ever have any problems, call me. I work with the Senegalese police”. And just like that we went home where I nursed the bday girl to bed safely after many a water bottle. 

I figured out the gas tank, and prepared us a glamorous potato/onion/egg/coffee breakfast that hit the spot perfectly for her post 21st bday remedy. Fun times!

I apologize for my wordy descriptions but appreciate your sticking through it!

Peace and Love. 

Sorry I’ve left you hanging for so long friends and readers! I had a fear of complaining or honestly writing about my silly negative thoughts. You know the usual ones… it’s halfway through, I have a whole 6 weeks left, but still so much to do here, the fear of not feeling fulfilled/not experiencing everything available etc. I won’t lie, the airport borders my neighborhood and I’ve watched planes take off from my rooftop in a healthy anticipation of heading home to the people and comforts I miss. But enough of that, we’re moving on!

1. Classes are done!! And we’re starting our Independent Study Project (ISP) period which takes us all the way to the end. I could not be more excited with where I’ve ended up. I stumbled upon this organization on a random french article’s comments section? No one here had heard of it before and it was too lucky. I went to check it out Wednesday and it was the best day of my life/Senegal/maybe I’m exaggerating. Point is I loved it. It’s called Taxawu Sunuy Xale (Help Our Children) and is a hole in the wall that opens to children from families on the street, talibés (young boys who have to beg daily for their religious leaders), and provides structure and safety. One of the leaders Max just said it required that I have a heart for these kids, language barrier or skills aside. Count me in. 

So I spent the day loving on these kids who loved 10 times more on me. Within 30min of arriving I was leading story time by reading a French children’s book to them while Max translated to Wolof and the kids sat eagerly taking it all in. Next, I sharpened colored pencils (with the world’s worst sharpener, my hands still hurt) frantically trying to keep up as they colored pictures from The Hunchback of Notre Dame for an hour. We then watched Pippi Longstockings in French! This was great for so many reasons. 1. I’ve never even seen it and she’s an American household name. 2. Three kids quickly leaned on me eventually falling asleep. 3. A few girls began playing with my hair and commenting on how it was like Pippi’s haha 4. As they were soaking up my presence, I was enjoying their giggles at Pippi all the more. They would check back to make sure I laughed too as the silly things happened, often pointing and naming the funny parts in wolof. 

I’m hooked and will be back next Wed  to start my month of daily volunteering and learning from them. It’s in French but you can check it out at Tsxdakar@wordpress.com.

2. Tomorrow at 4am I’m leaving for family vacation! We’re driving back to St. Louis my dad’s hometown to celebrate Tabaski with his family. If I haven’t already explained Tabaski is THE holiday and the event you dispense all your earnings on lavish outfits for. It’s in honor of Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his first son (Ismael in Islam, not Isaac). The head(s) of the family will kill a sheep (yum) and the women will grill and prepare the elaborate meal for the evening. I’ve been notified I will change outfits and lather on makeup partway through this day of festivities so just hold on tight pics will come. The Post-Tabaski post will be more detailed and visual for sure. Spoiler alert if you’re not into sacrificing animals.

3. My family is staying in St Louis for a few weeks so the kids get grandparent time and I’ll be coming back to Dakar and have the apt to myself! I’m gonna learn quickly how much I depended on their cooking, cleaning and basic upkeep. What do I do when the water doesn’t run?! and how do I do the dishes in the dirty bucket water/how much bleach do I clean stuff with? I’m a baby. As long as I can get the gas tank on without an explosion hopefully I can heat some beans. I’m just stoked to cook for myself and hang out with these beautiful kids all day. I gotta re-learn my children’s French song repertoire and bring the uke in to teach them! 

Sorry for the lack of visuals this time. Thanks for keeping up :) 

Peace and Love

I don’t even know where to begin to catch you up on the last trip we took. I figured a series of visual aids would be best, and the least overwhelming for the both of us. We went from Dakar to Tambacounda for a night before finishing the long stretch (about 12hrs total) to Kedougou. We stayed there and went on some sweet hikes for a couple days. 

1. We hiked up to this village where the Bedicks live and then climbed their rocks to the old “look out” where they’d keep watch for the invading Peuls.

2. At the top was this crazy, incredible view and we all sang Pocahontas Colors of the Wind and thought we were literally on Lion King’s Pride Rock. We stayed until sunset and it was gorgeous.

3. The next day we drove in the backs of trucks and jeeps for an hour on crazy roads to reach the hike to this incredible waterfall. The hike was beautifully through canopies of trees. We got to swim and jump off the little ledge practicing our cannonball techniques so as not to hit the bottom.

4. Erica, Amy and I lived with the Diallonke people in their village of Afia Baxo where we spent a lot of time sitting under trees on hard benches drinking tea and munching on roasted corn (it’s like popcorn still on the kernel, supes good). My butt was sore by hour 3 of 9. These kids and many more were our fan club and we were always followed by at least 3 who just wanted to hold our water bottles, notebooks and pens for us. SO many observations from this village stay I couldn’t sort them out well enough for you. 

5. This was my fam in the village. Our last name was Camara. The guy on the right was my older brother (note the SD hat and calendar). I felt really weird showing them pictures of glamorized San Diego as we sat on a plank of wood next to huts with no running water or electricity surrounded by kids with open wounds and ripped clothes they wore 3 days in a row. After the first look through the calendar he said “San Diego is beautiful! There is nothing in Africa.” He looked through it a lot and repeated many times to me that life in the village was hard. All I could say was I know…I know. But I really don’t.

6. The two cutest boys ever. They wore those matching outfits all 3 days which helped us locate them conveniently. They caught on to our enjoyment of their timid smiles and began the “flirting game”, the way little boys do. They waited for us to pull out the camera and encourage them to smile.

7. Day after village stay we hiked (the hardest of the 3) up a very steep hill to reach another village where the women sold us their goods and we held hands to circle around a giant baobab. A lot of us picked up a little helper along the hike who wanted to carry our water bottle and became our personal photographer. My friend’s name was Adama.

8. That giant baobab.

9. The baboons we encountered periodically along the road very early in the morning on our 14hr journey back to Dakar. Our bus driver Mamadou would alert us by saying “saay saay!” so we could get out our cameras. Saay saay means jokester or player in Wolof.

Miss you all! Check out my facebook for an extensive addition to these pictures.

Recent events in order of photo appearance.

1. Megan (featured model) and I went to SeaPlaza, the fancy shmancy mall where all the rich business people and tourists frequent. Couldn’t afford anything in the stores but found a hummus plate in the food court!!!! Delish. Will be frequenting.

2. (featuring Isabella and Megan) That night we went to the Radisson hotel at the SeaPlaza where those previously mentioned stay. It was swanky and we sat at the outside bar next to a pool that bordered the ocean. Complete with palm trees and $15 daquiris it was so foreign, yet familiar. It was crazy as we sat there thinking “this is Senegal to some people”. So not what our experience is, and thankfully so. It was awkward once we had been sitting there so two people felt obligated to order the cheapest thing, $6 beer. We enjoyed the time to lounge and pretend we were hotel guests.

3. After leaving the Radisson we met up with some Australians who are childhood friends and have been traveling the world separately for over a year and recently met up in West Africa to do volunteer work in a village. It’s a beautiful story, they explain it with music and slow motion run to hug scenes. Anyway, that was fun and it was cool to hear their previous adventure stories. I can’t imagine taking off and leaving for years to literally wander aimlessly around the globe, nor having the funds to do so. But they wil always have incredible stories I can’t imagine.

4. We have our second round of music and dance classes this week, so wait for it…I picked dance! I know. You’re shocked. It’s so incredibly different than any teaching or class format I’m used to. It makes me miss smiles and 8 counts. They are so stoic and basically look at us like we suck, and get really frustrated, even when I feel like I’m actually doing it right! Ok wait, there have been a few nods in approval, I’m being drastic. But I’ll tell you I’m not exaggerating when I say the floor is filthy and our feet are black after class (is there a joke in there that’s not offensive?). Also, I’m always pulled to the front corner where there is a gaping foot long whole in the ground. That’s fun to navigate around. All in all, I enjoy the movement, live music and challenge it brings!

Peace and Love

Things are goin well. I feel like I’ve got some routines, know how some things work and other logical advancements after the one month mark. We’re in Dakar for two weeks before the next village stay so it’s to and from school everyday, a run, shower, dinner and maybe some homework. 

The cool part is we’re doing art this week! everyday after lunch we go to le Village des Arts where I’m taking Sous-Verre painting (under glass) and am loving it. Not only is it like 2 hours of relaxing creative therapy but I have been praised for my work, what?! Hey Mom and Dad, apparently I’m good at Senegalese art! The artist said “wow that is very nice!” first to mine :) never before or again will my art skills be approved. I think it worked cause I stayed away from all complicated shapes…like humans. I will post the final results soon!

Thursday we all do Batik, which is their traditional art of dying clothes still used and really cool looking. Like…African tie-dye I dare say.

My baby sister has had a cold for a few days now and Mom caught it too. Luckily I’m not around too much and I feel fine! While mom was cooking dinner last night, Amina started fussing so I picked her up and fanned her a bit saying sweet nothings in gibberish. (Side note, it’s really hard to hold her with one arm and fan. As I’ve mentioned she’s a big baby. Wears 9mo clothes at 4mo.) Anyway we stood on the balcony for a few minutes and the poor thing struggling to breathe through congestion fell asleep for all of 1 min on my chest and it was my favorite moment. Here is Amina on my mom’s (Adama) lap with her friend in the background. Note: this friend is deaf and it fascinates me that they sit and talk for hours with no formal sign language. 

Mouhamed started school yesterday and apparently loves it! I know it’s Koranic school but I don’t know if it’s other academics yet, he’s only 3. He put on his new school gear Sat and wore it around the house all night.

I also am stoked about my recent decision for my ISP (the independent project we do that last month here)! I’m looking into NGO’s and the catholic organizations here that work with abandoned and malnourished children as well mothers to teach and help with nutrition, health and sanitation needs. I’m hoping to basically work with them for the last month here conducting research through participation. This is thrilling to me. I might make a trip back to the sisters in Saint Louis to get more details/help with their Goût de Lait (taste of milk) dispensaire. Originally I had thought of researching the spirituality behind music which would still be cool, but this new idea gets me pumped.

A group of us went to l’Institut Français downtown last night to see their showing of Midnight in Paris, a recent American film apparently. The movie was naturally a sub par romantic comedy but it was fun to escape for 90minutes into a world of paved roads, Parisian sights and it was in English so required no language brain power! There were lots of French people there, it was like a Toubab reunion. We got ice cream right before at N’ice Cream(Ha!) which I did not complain about. We were kinda funny walking around with our backpacks and ice cream, total “hey look at me I’m a Toubab!” moment, but I embraced it. Plus they had sweet ice cream trashcans.

Today was a good day. It was raining this morning and the temperature was enjoyable I dare say. I left to do some research for my group project on the church and sisters of St. Joseph Cluny here in St. Louis. I met with sister Marie-Albèrt and chatted for almost 2 hours. I think that means we’re considered friends now. She was awesome. The oldest sister at the school and a french woman who’s been here since 1990.

The Church does some great things here, and with no intention of “converting” muslims. In the Catholic school only 50 out of 650 students are christian. They are just here to serve, based on their founding sister’s personal life goal: To serve God through care of the poor, sick and little girls. They’re big on promoting education of girls and have a center that teaches mothers health and hygiene as well as provides milk for malnourished infants or orphans. I’m into it.

Shout out to Marie-Albèrt. 

Here is a brief montage of my stay with a family in the village of Mouït. We were there for 4 days and 3 nights to participate and learn about the Senegalese village way of life.

There were things that were surprising: mainly sanitarily, which I was expecting and I greatly appreciated my hand sanitizer.

Things that were challenging: Outhouse type bathroom, basically a hole in the ground, which I like to call the squatty potty. I’ll be honest I preferred the open air trips I could take at night.

Things that were wonderful: Lounging on mats in the shade from breakfast to lunch, then lunch to dinner, afternoon watermelon and ataya (1 part tea, 3 parts sugar) with the neighbors who helped my Wolof. Showing them how I’d learned the Youssa in dance class (their signature popular dance) which would be considered pretty darn sexual in the US, but everyone even all the kids love to do it here. I entertained them greatly which was fun. A toubab doin the Youssa, that’s a knee slapper. They did tell me I was really good and better than a lot of Senegalese though! Ratatouille for dinner, my host mom tried very hard to please my vegetarianism which I was thankful for. 

The sabar street dance where girls and women of all ages come in their best outfits to show of their moves as a group of male drummers play. It’s kind of a call and response as the drummers and dancers would almost compete and respond to each other. Middle aged women shaking their behinds like nobody’s business=beauty. It was so interesting how acceptable the dancing was, when in the US my mother would never have let me watch the equivalent on tv. At one point there was the “chair dance”, as I like to call it, where a girl would lean over a chair and isolate all body parts except the hips/butt and move in slow distinct movements to the drum beat, in competition with the drummer’s drumming. I’ve never seen such talented behinds!

There were always so many kids over and around I’m not sure which ones I was related to or not but if you were there at lunch time, you ate. If you were misbehaving, someone’s mother scolded or punished you. And if you were in our backyard, you played frisbee. Lots of it. I was so glad I brought that as a gift! By the second round they were throwing and catching like pros, diving and jumping. It was the first morning, post lunch, and post dinner activity. 

The goats and sheep roamed around the yard leaving many treats behind in the sand…where the baby crawled and rolled all the time. One lunch, they set the leftovers out for the goats and the baby joined them…No big deal. 

It was hard for me to stomach the fish around all the time but it is their main staple, cheapest and readily available as it was a coastal village. Many families made their livings from muscles/clams of some sort and fishing.

My host mother had one son Moustafa who was about 8 I would guess and so sweet. We took a boat ride with all the other students to the beach one day and he just carried my water bottle to be helpful and constantly looked to me for approval. A lot of the boys were loud and “tough” but he was very sweet. Of course he also participated in the afternoon wrestling matches though. Wrestling is a huge sport here so the boys are all over it.

I had a cousin/aunt/sister named Cecille who was 14 and kind of took me place to place and had me cook with her. She spoke quite a bit of french so we could communicate well enough but she said she doesn’t go to school, just Koranic school so I’m assuming my host mom is teaching them French. I saw a chalkboard with Arabic and French written on it.

Post village we are are very thankful for the experience but also thankful for our 4 days in the city of St. Louis where we are in a hotel with A/C, wifi, toilets and a shower. ‘Tis glorious! We head back to Dakar on Saturday for another 2 weeks before we leave for the 2nd village stay and then we’re onto the last month of our Independent Study Projects! Time is flying. I miss a lot of things about home but it’s not hindering my experience here. They will be there when I return and this is a brief 4 months of my life to truly be present and immersed in Senegal.

Thanks for caring!