...how was you're weekend? it was freakin awesome
So that's not a direct translation. But still. I just wanted to share how great this weekend was. On Friday a Senegalese friend from my dance class, Maya, took me into town to help us bargain for fabric. I spent the evening with her too, listening to music and talking with her and her friend Fatou who I really like. She's quiet and insightful, and has a really interesting perspective on life- she's determined to finish her studies up to getting her doctorate, even though it's not easy on her family financially, because that was her late father's dream for her. I spent Saturday morning doing the laundry, then went into town for lunch to eat at my wolof teacher's house with the other Americans. Delicious. We had maafe, which is chicken in a peanutty sauce with rice and vegetables (oh vegetables, what a rare treat!). I spent Saturday night with the Penn girls and some new Tunisian friends at one of their apartments, and had a totally fascinating political discussion/debate with one of them. I had never discussed foreign policy with a North African before, so it was really an experience. We also watched a little bit of Urban Legends (in French)- terrible movie.
Sunday Heather and I tried to go into town to check out the election scene, but realized that there was no road travel allowed. So that plan failed. Later we had dinner with the Tunisians again and spent the evening watching Lord of the Rings. There was some thought of well, maybe we can do something more Senegalese, but LOTR is really just an awesome movie. So we watched it.
I spent the day at the beach today with a few Americans, which was incredibly relaxing. Very nice. I also bought some more fabric to have clothes made (!!!). Then we had dinner at the most delicious Vietnamese restaurant of all time. Again, more vegetables. Such a luxury.
Alright that's all I have to say. Hope everyone's still doing well... miss you all!
-Awa
oh and i really hate cold showers.
Monday, February 26, 2007
Thursday, February 22, 2007
So I realize that it has been a pretty long time since I’ve updated… its been a crazy week and the internet has been ndank ndank. Big news here is that the first presidential election in 7 years is on Sunday. It’s a huge deal because it’s only the first election since the current president, Wade, was elected- before that the socialist party had been in power since independence. There’ve been some election-related problems in Dakar, but Saint-Louis is generally more tranquil; especially the university, which is 10 km away. So no worries. But it is really, really interesting watching the posters go up and the caravans drive by, and talking with people about how they feel about the election.
So word on the street is to stay away from Dakar this weekend (in fact they’ve apparently banned all non-election related travel), which is fine with me, because last weekend was my Dakar weekend. And it was AWESOME. I had planned on going back to visit my host family (family including the Americans I lived with, who are amazing) for a few weeks, but on Tuesday I got a text message saying that NdeMarie (my host sister) had decided to be married on Saturday. Until then she hadn’t even been engaged! But yes, she had been with her boyfriend for years. Well really her manfriend- he is almost 50 years old (she’s 20), a French guy who photographs famous musicians for a living. So, my host family was thrilled to have me come back and celebrate with them.
We took what’s called a sept-place down to Dakar- sept-place being an old station wagon (emphasis on OLD) that has half the trunk converted into three more miserably uncomfortable seats. 6 hours in 1/3 of ½ of a trunk in the hot sun without air conditioning, water, or bathroom breaks (and did I mention I’d been sick for a week? I was first diagnosed with dysentery, but it was not, in fact, dystentery. I'm fine now). Yes, I will complain.
The ride down was SO worth it though. The wedding was really something else. Not at ALL like an American wedding (even despite the fact that there is no one “American” style wedding). Festivities started around noon, when the bride came back from having her hair and makeup done and (I believe) after having been sewn into her dress. She was stunning. We all decided that the best way to describe her is “African Wedding Barbi.” And, we got to see two of her outfits, to boot. I promise to post pictures when I can get webshots to work... oh which reminds me, Ouli (host mother) had traditional wedding attire tailor-made for us, so I have pics of me and my friends being as Wolof as a bunch of tubaabs can be at the wedding
So they had set up an enormous tent in front of the house, spanning the street (who knows what all the cars did..). They hired a DJ and a drum group, and had the most bizarre and hilarious mix of traditional Senegalese music and contemporary rap... it would go from a great reggae-sounding beat to Ridin’ Dirty by Chamillionaire (just your typical wedding song about running from the cops) and Unfaithful by I forgot who (about a woman who’s boyfriend knows she’s cheating on him, but she just can’t stop). I honestly am not sure whether they knew what the songs mean. In any case, after a couple hours the drum group started up, and everyone sat around the edge of the tent listening... then one at a time, people would get up and dance solo to the beat, in the absolute craziest dance I have ever seen in my life. It was incredible. The best way to describe it is they looked like they were on fire. I’ll post a link to a video once I can get it on YouTube. They pulled up the Americans as well, so I ended up dancing as close as I could get to the fire dance, in my Senegalese wedding garb, in front of a hundred guests. It was a total blast. Dancing here is really something...
So this went on all afternoon and into the night, stopping to eat a late lunch. They brought out about 6 communal bowls, and we sat in circles on the ground eating with our hands. It was delicious. Later came some dessert pastries- also delicious. And then more dancing.
What makes this so different from an American celebration is that neither the bride nor the groom were really a part of the celebration. In fact, the groom is not even present at the mosque for the religious ceremony (I didn’t attend this part because women are not allowed- with the exception of the bride). As far as the celebration itself, the bride spends the entire time having professional photos taken alone and with guests, and the groom spent the entire time taking photos of other people (though this may be because he’s a photographer... I’m not sure). In any case, neither the bride nor the groom took part in the dancing or eating.
OH also very different from U.S. tradition is what happened after the celebration... bride and groom decided they wanted to go to a club, so they and a few of the bride’s cousins went dancing downtown at what the groom described to be a “sort of cheesy club.. you know, prostitutes. But great music!” Becky and I were totally up for going... but were not invited. Damn.
So overall, it was a total blast (if a little long). It was also wonderful to see my housemates- we went to the big market at HLM on Saturday before the wedding to get wedding presents (a scarf for the mother, a fancy bracelet for the bride), and went out for a French brunch on Sunday morning (fabulous).
So now I’m back at UGB. Had my first wolof test this morning, which was fine. This morning I thought about writing part of my post about the non-human things I miss from home (it goes without saying that I miss my family and friends)... but actually couldn’t really come up with much. Hot showers, eh... who doesn’t love a cold adventure. Washing machines, not so much; I enjoy the laundry... the food, maybe once in a while I’ll get a craving, but I don’t really think about it much. Then it hit me. SPEAKERS. I only brought my ipod, and I am REALLY missing having speakers. Not to mention all the music that wouldn’t fit in the 2gigs. So, everybody, please listen to some fabulous music for me and dance around for a while.
Well I’ll wrap up here. Thanks everybody for your emails and I’m sorry I’ve been MIA this week! I’m getting on it right now!
xoAwa
So word on the street is to stay away from Dakar this weekend (in fact they’ve apparently banned all non-election related travel), which is fine with me, because last weekend was my Dakar weekend. And it was AWESOME. I had planned on going back to visit my host family (family including the Americans I lived with, who are amazing) for a few weeks, but on Tuesday I got a text message saying that NdeMarie (my host sister) had decided to be married on Saturday. Until then she hadn’t even been engaged! But yes, she had been with her boyfriend for years. Well really her manfriend- he is almost 50 years old (she’s 20), a French guy who photographs famous musicians for a living. So, my host family was thrilled to have me come back and celebrate with them.
We took what’s called a sept-place down to Dakar- sept-place being an old station wagon (emphasis on OLD) that has half the trunk converted into three more miserably uncomfortable seats. 6 hours in 1/3 of ½ of a trunk in the hot sun without air conditioning, water, or bathroom breaks (and did I mention I’d been sick for a week? I was first diagnosed with dysentery, but it was not, in fact, dystentery. I'm fine now). Yes, I will complain.
The ride down was SO worth it though. The wedding was really something else. Not at ALL like an American wedding (even despite the fact that there is no one “American” style wedding). Festivities started around noon, when the bride came back from having her hair and makeup done and (I believe) after having been sewn into her dress. She was stunning. We all decided that the best way to describe her is “African Wedding Barbi.” And, we got to see two of her outfits, to boot. I promise to post pictures when I can get webshots to work... oh which reminds me, Ouli (host mother) had traditional wedding attire tailor-made for us, so I have pics of me and my friends being as Wolof as a bunch of tubaabs can be at the wedding
So they had set up an enormous tent in front of the house, spanning the street (who knows what all the cars did..). They hired a DJ and a drum group, and had the most bizarre and hilarious mix of traditional Senegalese music and contemporary rap... it would go from a great reggae-sounding beat to Ridin’ Dirty by Chamillionaire (just your typical wedding song about running from the cops) and Unfaithful by I forgot who (about a woman who’s boyfriend knows she’s cheating on him, but she just can’t stop). I honestly am not sure whether they knew what the songs mean. In any case, after a couple hours the drum group started up, and everyone sat around the edge of the tent listening... then one at a time, people would get up and dance solo to the beat, in the absolute craziest dance I have ever seen in my life. It was incredible. The best way to describe it is they looked like they were on fire. I’ll post a link to a video once I can get it on YouTube. They pulled up the Americans as well, so I ended up dancing as close as I could get to the fire dance, in my Senegalese wedding garb, in front of a hundred guests. It was a total blast. Dancing here is really something...
So this went on all afternoon and into the night, stopping to eat a late lunch. They brought out about 6 communal bowls, and we sat in circles on the ground eating with our hands. It was delicious. Later came some dessert pastries- also delicious. And then more dancing.
What makes this so different from an American celebration is that neither the bride nor the groom were really a part of the celebration. In fact, the groom is not even present at the mosque for the religious ceremony (I didn’t attend this part because women are not allowed- with the exception of the bride). As far as the celebration itself, the bride spends the entire time having professional photos taken alone and with guests, and the groom spent the entire time taking photos of other people (though this may be because he’s a photographer... I’m not sure). In any case, neither the bride nor the groom took part in the dancing or eating.
OH also very different from U.S. tradition is what happened after the celebration... bride and groom decided they wanted to go to a club, so they and a few of the bride’s cousins went dancing downtown at what the groom described to be a “sort of cheesy club.. you know, prostitutes. But great music!” Becky and I were totally up for going... but were not invited. Damn.
So overall, it was a total blast (if a little long). It was also wonderful to see my housemates- we went to the big market at HLM on Saturday before the wedding to get wedding presents (a scarf for the mother, a fancy bracelet for the bride), and went out for a French brunch on Sunday morning (fabulous).
So now I’m back at UGB. Had my first wolof test this morning, which was fine. This morning I thought about writing part of my post about the non-human things I miss from home (it goes without saying that I miss my family and friends)... but actually couldn’t really come up with much. Hot showers, eh... who doesn’t love a cold adventure. Washing machines, not so much; I enjoy the laundry... the food, maybe once in a while I’ll get a craving, but I don’t really think about it much. Then it hit me. SPEAKERS. I only brought my ipod, and I am REALLY missing having speakers. Not to mention all the music that wouldn’t fit in the 2gigs. So, everybody, please listen to some fabulous music for me and dance around for a while.
Well I’ll wrap up here. Thanks everybody for your emails and I’m sorry I’ve been MIA this week! I’m getting on it right now!
xoAwa
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
ndank-ndank mooy japp golo ci naay
...slowly, slowly, one can trap the monkey in the bush.
A popular Senegalese saying, and also, very pertinent to life here. Slowly, slowly everything. From walking to waiting in line to the internet. Everything except taxis perhaps. I love it.
Which brings me to the topic of this post, inspired by Kelly of Barcelona fame and April from UGB. The topic- my 3 favorite things, and the 3 biggest challenges of the trip so far.
Let's start with my favorites, because I love this place:
1) The pace of life. It could not be more different from what I'm used to. Today, I woke up at 7:30 of my own accord, having gone to sleep at 10 last night. I spent 2 hours eating breakfast, stretching, going for a mile run (I know, who am I... yes, I still hate running, but I want to get back some muscle and stamina in case I join soccer), stretching again, and showering (the water is finally back on! They had turned it off for a few days, because, well, that's what they do here). Then I spent 3 hours doing my laundry, by hand! I love it. It's really relaxing, and feels like a great accomplishment afterwards. While the clothes soaked, I read a lot- about 2 hours today. Usually I get in 4 hours of reading or so- and I never even liked reading. I highly recommend The Poisonwood Bible. I had lunch and wolof, and then napped and read. Finally, Christine and I went into the city to watch a film screening which had been mysteriously cancelled, or so it seems. So instead we walked around, made friends with a local shopkeeper, and came back to hang out again. It's incredible. Things will pick up when I start classes next week, and when I get more into my independent study, but I am fully planning on making sure things stay relaxed and slow. It's so different. Things are so slow, in fact, that my dance class that started at 4 on Saturday didn't end up starting until 6: at 4:35 the instructor showed up, by 5:30 the rest of the students had showed up, and by 6 we finally found an empty room to dance in, since the usual one was locked. Oh, Senegal.
2) The challenges. It probably seems like I've done a lot of blog complaining... ew rats, fish eyes, roaches, hot hot heat, cold showers, etc. But honestly, I love those things. Well no, not those things themselves, but learning to deal with those things. Sometimes it takes a bit of creativity, but it's really rewarding. It's going to be very strange to come back to the states and eat whatever I want, in an odorless room, with the a/c on. Just me and other humans. Nothing furry or slimy. Same goes for things like having to take sponge baths when the water's out, or doing laundry by hand and hanging it out to dry. I'll miss it here...
3) The arts culture. Unfortunately I haven't gotten to experience as much of this as I would have liked, but I definitely plan on getting as much as possible. Next week there's another film screening, so hopefully that'll work out better than tonight's did. I'll also get farther into this dance class, which hopefully will have some traditional Senegalese dance in it, and I may try to take a traditional sculpture class once in a while. And there is a great music scene in Saint-Louis, which I definitely plan on experiencing starting this weekend. I got a little of it in Dakar, with the Orchestre Baobab concert and a few live bands at bars. But there is so much left, including I'd really like to see Youssou NDor. It should be great.
Okay, 3 biggest challenges:
1) Being a tubaab. Many a Senegalese person has tried to convince me that this just means a white person, and has no deragatory connotation at all. Bull, if you ask me. Even if they don't mean it as an insult, it really is one. First of all, because the most direct translation I can possibly think of for Tubaab is Outsider. Person who is different. Person who will never be a part of their culture. That's me. Tubaab. And second, because it assigns us a negative identity, rather than a positive one. If they called me Morgan, or even Woman or American, that would be assigning me something substantive as an identity. Instead, I am Tubaab- lack of Senegaleseness. Walking down the street and having little children and men of all ages shouting Tubaab!Tubaab! just doesn't make one feel accepted. Maybe as a circus animal. Or as a potential green card, I don't know. But definitely not as an equal. And not that I don't understand there must be a real history behind all this that I can't understand, especially not yet. But it's hard to get inside the culture and to make real friendships when what matters most is the color of my skin. It's also become more of a problem than just this discomfort- for example, on a walk down the beach, trying to reach Mauritania, me and the 2 girls I was with were hassled at every step by young men being jerks (harmless jerks, I should say), and kids asking for our jewelry or our water bottles. Twice, when we told the kids we couldn't give to them today, they kicked sand at us. And it hurt! Bottom line, race matters a lot.
2) Being a woman. There is an element of male chauvanism here. I don't feel insecure, but there are definitely times when it is very clear what level of respect is afforded to women here (especially white women). Little kids have been obnoxious too. It really shows though in the way we're cat-called, or flat out proposed to. Again, there is an element of cultural relativity here as well- apparently the women expect to be complimented left and right here, so some degree of cat-calling is sincerely trying to be manly and impress us. But not always. But in the end this, along with being a tubaab, is really making me stronger. And on the bright side, at least I'm not French. For once being American is a plus. The French are NOT popular here. Neither is Bush, by the way. Clinton they love. The Arabs they mistrust. Yes, that's all making generalizations, but nobody I've talked to has said differently.
3) The language barrier. My French is fine, but hopefully will get better- and I always wish I could spit things out faster than I am able to (and with better grammar). But my Wolof is still at the total beginner level, understandably. I'm really happy with the speed that I'm learning it all, but it can be frustrating trying to communicate, or worse, being judged based on my ability to communicate. Often, people will try to test us on our Wolof by talking faster and faster and more complexely until we can no longer keep up- then sometimes they'll be really nice and offer pointers, or other times, they'll sort of laugh at us. But it is getting better, and it's incredibly rewarding to even hold the shortest of conversations in Wolof. Or in anything, for that matter.
So, bummer to end with the challenges. But again, that's part of why I love it here.
ps, I'm going to a bird park on Sunday where the last group that went saw an anaconda. How cool is that. And tomorrow I'm going to a debate on democracy and religion. Hopefully next weekend I'll go back to Dakar and catch a soccer game and buy some fabric to have a shirt or dress or something made. And now, on to bed. Mmmmmm.
A popular Senegalese saying, and also, very pertinent to life here. Slowly, slowly everything. From walking to waiting in line to the internet. Everything except taxis perhaps. I love it.
Which brings me to the topic of this post, inspired by Kelly of Barcelona fame and April from UGB. The topic- my 3 favorite things, and the 3 biggest challenges of the trip so far.
Let's start with my favorites, because I love this place:
1) The pace of life. It could not be more different from what I'm used to. Today, I woke up at 7:30 of my own accord, having gone to sleep at 10 last night. I spent 2 hours eating breakfast, stretching, going for a mile run (I know, who am I... yes, I still hate running, but I want to get back some muscle and stamina in case I join soccer), stretching again, and showering (the water is finally back on! They had turned it off for a few days, because, well, that's what they do here). Then I spent 3 hours doing my laundry, by hand! I love it. It's really relaxing, and feels like a great accomplishment afterwards. While the clothes soaked, I read a lot- about 2 hours today. Usually I get in 4 hours of reading or so- and I never even liked reading. I highly recommend The Poisonwood Bible. I had lunch and wolof, and then napped and read. Finally, Christine and I went into the city to watch a film screening which had been mysteriously cancelled, or so it seems. So instead we walked around, made friends with a local shopkeeper, and came back to hang out again. It's incredible. Things will pick up when I start classes next week, and when I get more into my independent study, but I am fully planning on making sure things stay relaxed and slow. It's so different. Things are so slow, in fact, that my dance class that started at 4 on Saturday didn't end up starting until 6: at 4:35 the instructor showed up, by 5:30 the rest of the students had showed up, and by 6 we finally found an empty room to dance in, since the usual one was locked. Oh, Senegal.
2) The challenges. It probably seems like I've done a lot of blog complaining... ew rats, fish eyes, roaches, hot hot heat, cold showers, etc. But honestly, I love those things. Well no, not those things themselves, but learning to deal with those things. Sometimes it takes a bit of creativity, but it's really rewarding. It's going to be very strange to come back to the states and eat whatever I want, in an odorless room, with the a/c on. Just me and other humans. Nothing furry or slimy. Same goes for things like having to take sponge baths when the water's out, or doing laundry by hand and hanging it out to dry. I'll miss it here...
3) The arts culture. Unfortunately I haven't gotten to experience as much of this as I would have liked, but I definitely plan on getting as much as possible. Next week there's another film screening, so hopefully that'll work out better than tonight's did. I'll also get farther into this dance class, which hopefully will have some traditional Senegalese dance in it, and I may try to take a traditional sculpture class once in a while. And there is a great music scene in Saint-Louis, which I definitely plan on experiencing starting this weekend. I got a little of it in Dakar, with the Orchestre Baobab concert and a few live bands at bars. But there is so much left, including I'd really like to see Youssou NDor. It should be great.
Okay, 3 biggest challenges:
1) Being a tubaab. Many a Senegalese person has tried to convince me that this just means a white person, and has no deragatory connotation at all. Bull, if you ask me. Even if they don't mean it as an insult, it really is one. First of all, because the most direct translation I can possibly think of for Tubaab is Outsider. Person who is different. Person who will never be a part of their culture. That's me. Tubaab. And second, because it assigns us a negative identity, rather than a positive one. If they called me Morgan, or even Woman or American, that would be assigning me something substantive as an identity. Instead, I am Tubaab- lack of Senegaleseness. Walking down the street and having little children and men of all ages shouting Tubaab!Tubaab! just doesn't make one feel accepted. Maybe as a circus animal. Or as a potential green card, I don't know. But definitely not as an equal. And not that I don't understand there must be a real history behind all this that I can't understand, especially not yet. But it's hard to get inside the culture and to make real friendships when what matters most is the color of my skin. It's also become more of a problem than just this discomfort- for example, on a walk down the beach, trying to reach Mauritania, me and the 2 girls I was with were hassled at every step by young men being jerks (harmless jerks, I should say), and kids asking for our jewelry or our water bottles. Twice, when we told the kids we couldn't give to them today, they kicked sand at us. And it hurt! Bottom line, race matters a lot.
2) Being a woman. There is an element of male chauvanism here. I don't feel insecure, but there are definitely times when it is very clear what level of respect is afforded to women here (especially white women). Little kids have been obnoxious too. It really shows though in the way we're cat-called, or flat out proposed to. Again, there is an element of cultural relativity here as well- apparently the women expect to be complimented left and right here, so some degree of cat-calling is sincerely trying to be manly and impress us. But not always. But in the end this, along with being a tubaab, is really making me stronger. And on the bright side, at least I'm not French. For once being American is a plus. The French are NOT popular here. Neither is Bush, by the way. Clinton they love. The Arabs they mistrust. Yes, that's all making generalizations, but nobody I've talked to has said differently.
3) The language barrier. My French is fine, but hopefully will get better- and I always wish I could spit things out faster than I am able to (and with better grammar). But my Wolof is still at the total beginner level, understandably. I'm really happy with the speed that I'm learning it all, but it can be frustrating trying to communicate, or worse, being judged based on my ability to communicate. Often, people will try to test us on our Wolof by talking faster and faster and more complexely until we can no longer keep up- then sometimes they'll be really nice and offer pointers, or other times, they'll sort of laugh at us. But it is getting better, and it's incredibly rewarding to even hold the shortest of conversations in Wolof. Or in anything, for that matter.
So, bummer to end with the challenges. But again, that's part of why I love it here.
ps, I'm going to a bird park on Sunday where the last group that went saw an anaconda. How cool is that. And tomorrow I'm going to a debate on democracy and religion. Hopefully next weekend I'll go back to Dakar and catch a soccer game and buy some fabric to have a shirt or dress or something made. And now, on to bed. Mmmmmm.
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