A little taste of home

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I just realized that I am past due to send out another blog update. Unfortunately, I am willing to bet that you all back home will have more interesting stories to share than I over the past couple of weeks, but I will make an attempt in an effort to keep you updated!

As yesterday was the 4th of July it makes me step back and reflect how fortunate I am to have grown up with the independence given to me being an American. Now, I by no means think that America is better than any of the other amazing countries out there, I just try to acknowledge and be thankful for the advantages I have by being an American that other people are not lucky enough to receive. Mainly, I have had the opportunity to feed my love of travel and learning about different cultures by visiting approx. 30 different countries. Those that I have met around the world only dream of the possibilities of visiting all these places, especially America. Unfortunately, my 'holiday' weekend did not turn out quite like expected as I spent most of the weekend sick with a stomach bug/fevers, etc. This is a common occurrence here, I am not sure a day has gone by that both Nicole and myself have actually felt good. I am really hoping that sometime soon we can all just feel 100%. Maybe that is wishful thinking. As I was feeling better by Monday, it still seemed necessary to at least do something in honor of the 4th. So we decided that we should make an American meal for a few of our friends here. Unfortunately, no fireworks to be had…but we at least were able to locate ingredients to make a few American dishes. It was fun!

I would say that life here in Dakar has now become pretty much like it is at home. We just go about our ‘daily business.’ Of course the part I tend to forget is that our daily business is still a bit different than back home. I am reminded of this when I wake up in the morning and walk outside to head to the office. First I come across our guard Bouba who is the nicest man and really wants to talk to us but instead we exchange the few words of French that I know and then I scurry off to the office not having any idea what was just said. Silently thinking, thank goodness Louise hasn’t arrived yet because conversations with her are 3 times more confusing. As I walk the couple blocks to my house and exchange the “Bonjours and Savas” with others starting off their days, I have to quickly step out of the way of the horse taxi crossing my path. I then come across the large Mosque that is across from our office. It is quiet, but I know that soon enough I will be hearing the sounds of the prayers over the loud speakers. As 90% of the population here is Muslim, and per custom they pray 5 times a day…we hear and see a lot of praying going on, especially on Fridays. Next, I quickly say bonjour to Bah - our local fruit stand guy - and the guards at Plan and make my way into the office. The hours spent in the office are very much like the time spent at any office, the main differences are when I walk into the restroom and have to duck as the birds that have nested there fly in and out over my head, or at lunch when we go downstairs to eat with the rest of the people in the office. Although we don’t join in daily, it is quite the experience for us to be able to eat the local food (in the local custom of all eating off of 1 plate) while listening to the mixture of French and Wolof being spoken at the table. If a familiar word is heard, we try our best to jump in. As Plan is international (and based out of the UK) all employees are required to speak English, so they like to practice on us as well. After work is French class. So far I can tell people the basics…where I am from, marital status (more on that later), where I work, live, tell time, talk about family members, etc…good stuff. The night usually ends in some TV - World Cup, CNN, etc. We are going to be quite sad once the World Cup is over…as our options will be minimal (side note: I still am not sure how the U.S managed to be one of the only countries in the world who are not obsessed with soccer). Now watching TV is all dependent on us having power. We have spent a few nights hanging out by the candles, or early mornings sweating, as the power (and thus A/C’s in our bedrooms) goes out. So far, we have been pretty fortunate that it hasn’t been more than a few hours. I am keeping my fingers crossed that it won’t ever be much longer than that. I am also keeping my fingers crossed that the flooded streets outside of our house last week were a one time occurrence as they were not flooded because of heavy rains, but rather sewage back up. Believe me, it did NOT smell good.

Je suis mariee (I am married in French). The common question asked when hopping into a cab, walking on the street, etc. is ‘are you married’? I never know if this is because we are white and they have these hopes of a free ticket out, or if that is the first thing they ask all women…I’ll have to ask. In general, marital status doesn’t really matter much around here anyway. Well at least for the men, as polygamy is common. We have met people who have 2, 3, or more wives. Pretty crazy to think about, when so many people have problems supporting 1 family here. All I can say is…I have never been so happy to not be a blonde. Nicole and I don’t have to deal with a fraction of what Meg has to. She has so many “best friends” that want her to be “my wife.” She constantly gets harassed, invited to meet families, etc. Some of them seem harmless enough, other potential suitors completely cross the lines and relationships that should not be crossed. She seems to handle it all ok though.

Let’s see…what else. The only ‘touristy’ things that I have done in the last few weeks, thus warranting any write up, were trips to the local market and to the traditional wrestling they have here. The wrestling here (called les lutes or buray) is the main spectator sport of the area (rivaling football). Therefore, Agnes, Nicole, and I decided that we had to check it out. We arrived at the arena at around 4:30 (as we were told that is what time the matches get started). About 3 hours, and a sunburn later, we actually witnessed the first match. Now the interesting piece to this sport is that the ‘pre-game’ festivities are just as entertaining as the actual fights. There is a lot of music (mainly drums) playing, people speaking (who knows what) over microphones, and crazy fans. Once the wrestlers come out things start going wild. They wear these traditional costumes that are basically a loincloth and some jewelry. Next, they and their ‘posse’ go around the playing field (which is just a square of sand), and do these dances. I found this to be the most interesting piece to the day, they have all these choreographed dances, and while the main guy may be wearing this traditional get up…all the others can be seen wearing anything from tattered t-shirts to Chicago Bear jerseys, backward baseball caps, and fake ‘bling’. Basically the goal of the sport is just to knock your opponent down…needless to say the matches themselves don’t last more than a few minutes. I would say for the 4 hours we were there, we actually witnessed 20 min. of actual wrestling. But just watching how the locals get into it was entertainment in itself. Until the big match ended that is…before we knew it, we were in the middle of a riot. I think there was too much testosterone in the stadium. We were able to steer clear of the madness and made it out safe and sound.

Another event in itself here is going to the markets. In case I haven’t already mentioned previously…you have to barter for everything here, including every taxi ride. (Posvar - you would be proud how my skills have improved from the China days). Nicole and I went to Sandaga last weekend to try and pick up some things for the house. Sandaga is a market covering numerous blocks and they say is more aimed for locals (as there are not a lot of handicrafts, etc). The minute we got out of the taxi we had 3 personal shoppers. We would tell them what we wanted (i.e. towels) and they would go find it or take us to them. It really requires extreme patience walking around these markets as they are so hot and you never have a minute to yourself. They are definitely quite the salesmen, and will tell you whatever you want to hear to get you to buy it. Half of the clothes sold here (and on the piles in the street) are 2nd hand clothes (often received from relief organizations), but they of course say…”it’s Nike…very expensive”. And charge you more than you would pay for them new at home. Actually, anything we have bought at the market/stores here, I can guarantee I could get for the same price…if not cheaper, at home. Sometimes you just have to give into them in recognition of their sheer effort. Nicole stopped and looked at a pair of shoes when we first arrived…and hours later and blocks away…the shoe guy found her carrying the same shoes trying to make a sale, pretty impressive. We walked out of there with most everything we had gone for (and a few extras), but can’t say I am going to hurry back to make another trip anytime in the near future!

The last thing I will leave you with is some advice. When you get inside of a taxi and think to yourself ‘wow…this guy has way more cracks in his windshield than the average taxi’, maybe that is a sign to get out. I on the other hand, went with it…and experienced my first (and hopefully last) car accident here in Dakar. I saw the whole thing coming as my taxi driver completely plowed into someone, but of course couldn’t really warn him more than with a few screams and “STOP” in English. Thank goodness there was not a passenger in the car that we hit. I was lucky and escaped with just a little bump on the head and lots of confusion on what to do next. I was a bit clueless as there were tons of people surrounding the car and I could not really understand any of the yelling that was going on…eventually I just left the scene and walked the remaining mile or so back to the office. An interesting experience. I guess I will try to screen my taxis a bit better going forward.

OK…like I said nothing TOO eventful to report on, hopefully more to come in the future. For those of you in the U.S., I hope you had a wonderful long weekend!

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Photos

4th of July dinner
A few of us in our living room..watching world cup and eating our attempt at an American meal! From left: Alex, Mansour, Juan Carlos, Raphaela (sleeping), Joanna, Blair, Nic, and myself)

Festive food
Meg and Blair (Nic's boyfriend) digging in

Night out
Our friends Mansour (left) and Aldo (right) came over to hang out one night before going to the clubs. We can't go out until after 1am. (I know the picture looks like we are posing for some Sears catalog, not sure how that happened!)

Working out
People ALWAYS work out here. At the beach you see tons of guys doing push ups, sit ups, etc.

At the office
Nicole and I leaving work...and our guard.