Just like in the movies

---

Hello!
I know I haven't written in a while, but I've been busy and the internet is pretty darn inconvient. But here I am! Content in Kaolack.
My new family is Moslem, and really nice. I share a room with my 26 year old sister Awa, who is hilarious. Also in the house are brothers Paap (32) and Tamsir (16) (and there are four other brothers I haven't met who live in Dakar) and my host mom, who is actually the president of the Mutual where I work, and my host dad.
Kaolack has a much different feel than Dakar. There is less bustle and hassle, and a large percentage of families are religious. It's a lot hotter too! I like it.
During free time, when we're not taking in some ridiculous movie or soap opera dubbed over in French, I go shopping or visiting with Awa, which is fun.
The other day, she and I and cousin Masamba (he stays at the house on the weekends) took a walk to visit some of the gardens near the neighborhood (mostly lettuce and parsley and such veggies). We were eating the little fruits from a tree we'd passed (I've forgotten the Wolof name but it probly translates to instant-cotton-mouth fruit), which tasted kind of like watermelon but not as sweet, and without the juice, and then we hopped onto a horse-pulled cart that was passing by. Turns out it was headed to a nearby village for a tradtional wrestling match. It was Mas and Awa's first time in a village, too, even though they live so nearby. It was a Serrer village so I had to have a quick lesson on greetings in Serrer. Then we sat down for awhile and I watched some kids and chickens wandering around, because I didn't understand anything that was being said anyway. (Maybe I should note here that I didn't actually know why we had gotten on the cart, or how long we were going to sit in the village, or that there was going to be a traditional wrestling match. ha!)
So then after awhile we went into this fenced in area and villagers were streaming in and men were beating tamtams and three women were singing to glorify the ancestors of the fighters, and the sun was sinking down over the horizon in a big fat orange disc, just like in the movies, and you could look at it without it hurting.
As the fighters came in, each with their little posse of about five other guys, they went around the arena and at certain spots they would etch shapes in the sand with an animal horn or a stick. Then they would take off their cape and lay it on the ground just so before rolling it up just so to sit on. They all had their different rituals, like squatting three times before actually sitting, or pouring mysterious looking brown liquid onto the sand in front of them and sketching things in it. They all danced around quite a bit too, but I don't know if that was superstitious, or because there were drums playing, or to get warmed up or what. Maybe all three.
They were wearing little biker-type shorts, and a kind of rolled-up-cloth loincloth. Some of them had a band of white animal fur around their calves, and their chests and arms were crisscrossed with thin leather straps, to which were attached various amulets (called gris-gris) for protection and strength and victory and the like.
I can't describe very well what it was like, but the warm dusty air was practically vibrating, and the fighters were beautiful and their skin gleamed and all their muscles pulled tight as they locked arms and lowered their heads and tried to throw the other to the ground. There wasn't any hitting or grappling around on a mat, just strength and traditional technique, and it was SO cool.
After awhile we commandeered another horse and cart to take us back to Kaolack, and there were tons of stars, and it was mostly quiet except for the gales of laughter when we would hit a big bump in the sand and almost launch off into the brush. At home we ate thiackry (which I've prob'ly already written about 'cause it is SO gosh darn good - little balls of steamed millet flour, and sweetend curdled milk, and Awa added raisins and coconut too, and some spice I couldn't quite identify). YUM. Then some bug bit me and I went to bed. It was a really good day.

---

Comments

[Emily]

Oh christina..
I really like when people have moms who have masters in english, and they spell the word there wrong. You're pretty cool.

[C Robl]

Uplifting!
Reading your experiences brings on a smile

[Victor]

Just like a dream
Christina – I know what you mean about the internet being inconvenient, even though you’re probably referring to real inconvenience, whereas for me it’s just finding the time to sit down at the computer. I haven’t had the opportunity to read all of your posts or to respond. Jennifer told me about the one you sent to tell me Happy Birthday, (it made my day) and she left this one up on the screen all evening so that I could have the chance to see it, and unbelievably no one else had to use the computer. Thank you so much for sending your greetings to us from across the world! It’s is a real joy to hear what is going on in your life and on the other side of the world. The way you write makes it almost seem like we’re there, and helps us to think you’re not so far away. Your story sounded incredibly like someone’s dream from one of our “dream gatherings”, (which we haven’t had since you left). We’re all living through your stories. Thanks! Love, Victor

[Hannah]

curdled milk!
What an amazing day! I don't know of anyone else who could make curdled milk or a bug bite sound good! Love and miss you!