au Sénégal

An update, at last!

2008-11-12T15:46:00.002Z

Dear blog readers,

I know that it was been what seems like FOREVER since I have updated my blog. Perhaps I should explain what's up:

We went to Kedougou in the Southeast region of Senegal. I caught malaria. I rested in bed with an I.V. for three days. Seemingly recovered, I traveled back to Dakar with the group. Three days passed. I woke up at 3h feeling terrible. I went to school anyway. I kept feeling worse and worse throughout the day. I visited a doctor that night who prescribed a few more pills. I stayed at the school for two days until deciding that I had better go see another doctor. I went to a clinic, then to a hospital (which they called a clinic) in Dakar. I stayed there for three days before the insurance company decided it was in my best interest to be evacuated to Paris. I came to Paris on a commercial flight with a doctor and have undergone countless blood-tests, ultrasounds, urinalysis, etc. Though I don't feel any better, the doctors in Paris are convinced that I have recovered. They are sending me back to Dakar on Friday. Once I get there, I am not sure what I am going to do, because they recommend bed-rest for several days. Needless to say I am very discouraged and wish it would all be over.

Please excuse the negativity of this entry, and the inexcusable intervals between updates.

-Ryan

Hit the ground running!!!!

2008-10-17T07:39:00.006Z

I know I've been a terrible blogger, but not without good reason. Since the return from St. Louis I have been taking tama (talking drum) lessons with Massamba Diop, who is arguably the best tama player (and maker) not only in Senegal but in all of Africa. Between working with him, practicing, and keeping up with schoolwork, there hasn't been too much time for blogging. Hopefully I will be able to re-establish my regiment of regular updates. In the mean time, please enjoy a few pictures from my recent escapades!

Tortoise Face

Zebra butts

Giraffes

The Griots, a Senegalese caste of historians, musicians and poets, used to put their dead inside the often hollow trunk of the baobob tree. Here you can see two skulls (a man and wife?) in the trunk of this massive tree.

Touba is the sacred city of the Mouride sect of Islam, which houses the impressive mosqie that was founded by Cheikh Amadou Bamba (Marabout, or holy leader, who brought Mouridism to Senegal).

Anterior hallway of the mosque in Touba. Most of the work was done by Moroccan craftspeople in three waves; the first came in and plastered the ceiling, columns, and walls; the second came to carve the elaborate shapes into the plater; the third came to paint. The entirety of the mosque and its grounds are as impressive and ornate as this hallway. Wow!

These sexy ladies were my mothers (yes, mothers - my father has two wives) in the village of Ker Sedaro, outside of Thies. And they gave birth to....

they gave birth to...THIRTY TWO children!!!!!!!! Scary!

As promised - pictures. Also a revelation

2008-10-02T11:54:00.005Z

Dear readers,

The last post, though not published until this morning, was actually written and saved as a draft on Tuesday when the group returned to Dakar. To shorten a long story, its really REALLY REALLY difficult to maintain a blog that features photos (and hopefully videos) when 1. the bandwidth of the connection is slower than dial-up and 2. the power (and therefore the connection) goes out on a regular basis. But at last my patience has been rewarded by an unusually fast bandwidth and enduring electricity.

The Senegal River at sunrise. This view is from our balcony. Below, one can see the hotel's yacht and the blue umbrellas over the suspended outdoor dining room.

The beach, facing away from the water. This sort of grassy sand continues on for MILES and MILES without interruption.

The beach, obviously from within the water.

Two minarets from the mosque in Saint-Louis, completely surrounded by smog and dust from the Sahara.

Traffic in Dakar. This is a two lane road - notice folks drivin' on the sidewalk on the left? See the dump-truck full of sand on the right side of the image? Guess what's on top of it...(see next caption)

Answer: a sleeping man! I don't know if I have the balls to sleep on a pile on sand on a moving vehicle on a highway in rush-hour traffic, but this guy does! He must have had a fun night.

Khadijia - the lady of the house. She is going to eat this watermelon and no camera shall stop her!

Remember the happy photo? This is what was in the bag? BOUBOUS! Yes, at last the tailor finished out boubous. This is the more formal of the two, worn for special occasions like Korite, the end of Ramadan.

And speaking of Korite, let me announce that my feet hurt. They really and truly hurt. Not only was I bitten by a poisonous spider on the underside of my right foot, but that same foot has open wounds from foot fungus. Three of them in fact, that congeal with sand, dirt and road-scum every time I take a step. How does this relate to Korite? Yesterday, a few of us in the group visited 7 different households (not including the housed I visited earlier in the day with my host brother, Abdou) on foot. Yes, we walked all over Dakar on our blisters and bites to salute the families and say "Bon Korite" to everyone. I will probably have more positive, culturally inquisitive, intelligent things to say about Korite at a later time, but as for now, its off to the pharmacies in search of Neosporin. But before I go, the last comment I would like to share, is that I am eternally grateful to come from such privilege that I can walk to a pharmacy and buy antibacterial ointment for my bleeding foot, or ailments for any other malady that may arise. The majority (meaning MOST people, not meaning more than 50 per cent) of Senegalese would not be able to dispense money for such creams, let alone pay for health-care or doctors. The fact that I can reach into my wallet and buy Neosporin, without having spent my last two weeks' pay, without even thinking twice about how this seemingly small sum will be replaced, without having to make a decision between feeding my children or dressing their wounds, is indeed very humbling. In the face of situations like this I can't help but feel slightly guilty for my selfishness and privilege. At the end of the day, I realize that I cannot feel guilty for what someone else's hard work (especially that of my parents and grandparents) has yielded for me, but that it is of crucial importance to be in a constant state of gratitude for seemingly small things (anti-bacterial ointment, to name one) that are easy to take for granted. Though I haven't always shown it, I have always understood and agreed with why I should be thankful. Now my eyes have been opened even wider - I have found a profoundly deeper appreciation of blessings to whom I was already beholden. Thank you all for what you have so generously shared with me!

Back at last!

2008-10-02T11:39:00.000Z

To all my faithful and loyal readers:

Please excuse my extreme neglect of this blog within the last 6 days. The SIT group went to Saint-Louis, the first settlement in Africa of European explorers/sailors, for a six-day adventure/vacation. First, please allow me to summarize the last 6 days:

Thursday:

9h – everyone gathers at the school. We load luggage, eat, get on the bus, nothing special. On the way out of town we stop for fuel, drinking water and snacks. 12h30 – we stop in Thiès for lunch. The restaurant is called, “Pamanda,” after the French emigrant proprietors’ daughters. Our salads have vegetables, and raw ones at that. How long has it been since I’ve eaten raw veggies? Since living in the states? 14h30 – some people need to relieve themselves so the bus pulls over under a baobob tree. If you’ve never seen a baobob tree, or a picture of one, try to find a picture online. (I will be posting pictures of the boabob tree with the bus parked under it as soon as the Internet becomes fast enough to do so.) 14h40 – we return to the bus, picking the thorns from the brush out of our pants. 16h – the bus arrives in Saint-Louis at the hotel, which is a vibrant red with blue accent colonial remnant right on the Sénégal River. The ornately decorated yellow room, which is on the 3^rd floor, looks across the river to the historic bridge and mosques on the continent. 18h – the group goes to the beach. From the parking spot, the waterline is nearly 50 meters. The beach, though polluted and partially developed by grass-huts and small villas, is beautiful in its own way. Sand, complete with little crabs and seashells, extends as far as the eye can see. At first, we are taken aback by the breathtaking images of the ocean, then the vendors come out of the huts en masse like crabs from their shelters. Though they claim merely to want to present their goods, they will try to talk to beachgoers until they buy something. If a person is so audacious to tell a vendor that they are not only uninterested in their products, but also uninterested in a drab, broken-English pseudo-conversation, this person will quickly be dubbed “rude” or “cruel”. This sales culture is one small aspect of being a foreigner that is both difficult and obligatory to accept and patiently ignore. 20h – an upscale dinner on the hotel’s dining room – a lavish deck that extends 20-25 meters out onto the river, complete with tables, sitting areas and even two yachts. The meal, which was a choice between chicken, beef, or vegetables, was served in three courses, including two scoops of ice cream for dessert. Compared to the delicious yet monotonous ceebu jen (Senegalese dish with fish and rice) most of us have been eating on an almost nightly basis, the restaurant’s offerings were a more than welcome surprise. 23h – the group retires early to their (air-conditioned) rooms for rest and recovery.

Friday:

8h30 – breakfast. Plain croissants, chocolate croissants, coffee, tea, orange-mango juice. 9h – class starts. We are privileged enough to have a guest lecturer, a historian, who talks about the role Saint-Louis played in colonial history. Many of the players and historical sights are topics of our research projects. 12h – free for lunch. We find a hole-in-the-wall greasy spoon type place in the central most part of the island. The food is terrible but cheap. 13h – my group is assigned to “L’école Khayar Mbengue,” a school started in the Colonial Era by Gouverneur Faidherbe whose frequently changed name and function has played a major role in Senegalese education since the early 19^th century. We go to the school to take photographs and conduct interviews. Taking photos and conducting interviews on a school whose front gate opens onto a major street is no easy task. I stand in the middle of traffic, receiving ridicule and scorn from Saint-Louisians, endangering my safety, all for a poorly taken photograph that doesn’t truly show the stature and striking elegance of the old building. Interviewing is always the same. Kids come and try to snatch your notebook or your water bottle, people see your water and ask why you aren’t fasting (it is custom to fast during the month of Ramadan), guards or interviewees demand money for their answers and time, etc. This process, though cumbersome, becomes a little more efficient each time it is practiced. 16h – we wrap up work for the day and drive (on the bus) to a remote spot on the Senegal River. From there, the group boards a Pirogue (a Senegalese fishing boat made from wood, painted with vibrantly colored images and texts of “Alxumdulilaye” [thanks be to God] and the name of the boat), drives 10 km down the Senegal River (down is North in this case, but closer to the river’s mouth) towards a remote beach. INCREDIBLE! There is not a single person nor piece of trash to be seen for miles. The water is clear – no cooler than 80 degrees Farenheidt. The man-made banks with evergreen trees, installed to protect both the river and the beach from erosion, provide a ‘natural’ barrier between the group and the rest of reality. For 2 hours we are in complete, undivided euphoria. 20h – the group returns, we eat dinner and continue work on our project. The roommates and I have a few drinks before a dull but necessary Wolof study session.

Saturday:

9h – class starts with another lecture, this time from an established Saint-Louisian author. His lecture recounts the evolution of the Saint-Louisian novel, from the Colonial Era to present. 12h – free again for lunch, nothing delectable but who cares? We eat for next to nothing. 14h – research on the history of L’école Khayar M’Bengue, as well as on Khayar M’Bengue himself, at the neighboring museum’s library. We decide to prepare a skit for our presentation. 16h – back to the beach we visited the first day. 20h – A sub-group eats dinner in a French restaurant. Without a doubt – this is the best meal I’ve eaten since I ate at Watercourse the night of my departure. Cheese salad, mustard olives, bread with oil and black pepper, lobster ravioli (yeah, you read correctly, we sure did have lobster ravioli) in a rich herb cream sauce, ice cream served in a wooden boat with sprigs of mint, beer and wine, and finally miniature espressos. If the fine food wasn’t enough, the smiles on the sun burnt cheeks of my colleagues, the laughter, the winding down after a few very intense days, and the shimmer in everyone’s exhausted, drooping eyes, was enough to make this night a very special one.

Sunday:

We are technically free; however, my group hasn’t finished preparing for our presentation. We rise relatively late – the sun lazily peeks over the combination of smog and an October dust cloud the Sahara has sent across the mainland. We work slowly but with determination. Luckily we finish early enough to have not wasted an entire free day. Another visit to the beach leaves our skin slightly darker, our nostrils swept clean and our spirits optimistic. Dinner is average.

Monday:

9h – presentations take place until… 12h –presentations are finished. We all learn about the history of the island through our studies of particular buildings and historic sights. Lunch comes, cheap and tasteless as usual. The ominous dust continues to lurk above the darkening continent. The group is collectively tired and sleeps until dinner. 20h – we eat dinner out on the deck above the Senegal River: vegetables, fish, meat, chicken, fruit, wine, bread, etc. The group recounts its time in Saint-Louis.

Tuesday:

We rise early and start the drive home. 11h30 – we arrive in Thiès and eat pizza at the same restaurant from earlier. 13h – the drives continues. 17h – We are still driving! We have returned to Dakar but the traffic is striking. The driver tells us that there have been rains and that since our departure gas prices throughout Senegal have doubled. This is quite normal. Bus drivers are advised to refuel the night before their departure, in case of such a rapid economic shift. A professor recounts a previous village stay in which the group was stranded until gas could be delivered because the morning of their scheduled return, gas prices has sky-rocketed above and beyond the group’s feasible costs. 19h –ish – finally we are back at the SIT office in Dakar. We check our e-mail and return to our respective families.

Super short update

2008-09-24T08:48:00.003Z

Tomorrow we go to Saint-Louis and 9h couldn't come sooner! We only have 1.5 hours of class this morning, then the rest of the day is free for shopping, beaching, catching up on homework, packing for Saint-Louis, etc. More to come later, and happy Wednesday!

I'm happy!

Guess what's in the bag? Revelation to come...

What a day!

2008-09-20T15:16:00.008Z

Yesterday (Friday) a portion of the group went to Goree Island, off the coast of Dakar. In addition to being a popular French vacation spot, it has a rich cultural history, too. The island was used by slave owners/traders to hold slaves before they were shipped to the Americas. As you might imagine, the conditions were worse than terrible. We toured "La Maison des Esclaves," which was essentially a pre-Atlantic-journey prison. The slaves were kept in small rooms, with between 20-30 people all living in one room. Having been separated from their mothers, children were also kept in La Maison des Esclaves. La Maison held hundreds of slaves in what is literally just a gutted house. The rest of the island is completely colonial. The houses are all stately, built for wealthy French families and their slaves. They are all painted in vibrant reds, pinks, oranges, greens, etc. Now, the island has become rather touristic. Vendors perch on every corner waiting to sell their products. I am a HUGE sucker and couldn't resist buying some shakers. If anyone reading this blog knows how these things work, please PLEASE tell me. They are two balls each at the end of a rope that is about 6 inches long. They have grains of rice in them so they act as shakers all on their own, but can also make a 'clack' sound when you throw them from between your thumb and first finger to underneath your pinky. This probably isn't a very good description, but if anyone thinks they know what these instruments are called or how to properly play them, I would like to find out.

After we toured "La Maison des Esclaves" we ate lunch on the beach and listened to Kora music and singing at the table. Following lunch there was another tour of the first and only exclusively-women museum. (Of course men can enter the museum, the exhibits are just about the progress and role of women in Senegalese society.) There, we gained a deeper understanding of exactly what it means to be a woman in Dakar, in a village, in Africa, in the workplace, etc. Several exhibits featured Senegalese "firsts" - the first Dakaroise to study in France, the first female senator, the first female member of the judiciary cabinet, etc.

We then got to tour a museum that had been built in a sort of Goree guard-house at the end of the island. All around the circular roof there were cannons angled in every direction - perfect for intimidating attackers. On the main floor, inside the museum, there were several interesting historical artifacts about the island, Dakar, the port history, etc. There was no formal tour of this museum, which made it harder to imagine the uses/functions/history of every single object. In my opinion, the coolest exhibit in the museum was the only known photograph of Cheikh Ammadou Bamba - the muslim leader who brought the Mouride sect of Islam to Senegal. This photograph has been replicated in paint on countless walls throughout Dakar - especially on the walls of the Corniche and on walls of Koranic schools.

Here are a few photos from the island.

This door has phrases and messages on the nature of life in "La Maison des Esclaves"

Here I am, standing in the most awful door that exists. Through this door there was a plank that led directly to a boat that would cross the Atlantic. Those who passed through this door would never pass through it again - would never return to their maternal continent, etc.

The statue of the liberation of Goree.

The harbor. Fishing boats, barges, etc. (View from the ferry.)

Eew! Flies are all over the dish! Gross!

The nice part about the visit to Goree Island was the swimming in the ocean! After we came back to SIT we all decided to go to a club en ville. A few friends from CIEE, another study abroad program where in Senegal, had amused themselves at a place called Le Mex. Hungry for the tastes of home, we were all more than excited about eating Mexican food. What a horrible idea! After getting lost in a taxi-cab, we FINALLY arrived at Le Mex at 21h (9:00 pm). The doorman told us they didn't open until 22h. Fine. Fine, that's fine! We wanted Mexican food so bad that we decided to wait. We crossed the street for beers at a Vietnamese restaurant. At 22h, we returned to the restaurant, only to find out that it is NOT a restaurant. The 'amigos' who told us they had eaten there were obviously lying. HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO US? We then walked around central Dakar, in the middle of the night, looking for any place that might have food that wouldn't kill us. We found Cafe Roma, an upscale French restaurnat whose plates started at about $22 (American). Forget it! We went back to the Vietnamese restaurant, which was also overpriced. Finally we were full. Then we decided to go to Le Mex, to meet all of our other friends who were there. Little did we know we were walking into a brothel. Yes, prostitutes and old French men. This was difficult for many people in the group. I'm glad we went, though, and confronted the sad reality of many women in Senegal and throughout the world. Needless to say, we will not be returning to Le Mex. Hopefully, when Ramadan is over, we won't be forced into the sketchiest clubs on the city because they won't be the only ones open.

After an exhausting night searching for somewhere to eat and fighting our way through crowds of prostitutes, I got a great night's sleep.

A quick update

2008-09-18T20:06:00.002Z

Hello readers of Au Senegal,

My blog! My precious, precious blog! It seems like I haven't been able to log on to the internet in years. Really, its been since Monday. The power in Dakar is as consistent as the printing of a 1st-grader. Even in Point-E (the upper-class neighborhood where SIT is located), the power will be cut randomly, sometimes for up to 6 hours. When the power gets cut, the Wi-Fi gets cut. When the Wi-Fi gets cut, the blog doesn't get any attention. Of course there have been times when the power has been on, but spending the afternoon hours in a shack with a tin roof and no water tends to make the bed more appealing than the computer.

In any case, today was the last day of our week of visits to Village Des Arts. As I mentioned, I chose to spend the week working with clay. Regretfully, in the rush to catch the bus, I forgot to bring my camera. This is not the end of the world, though, because none of us (three students who chose to do ceramics) have any clay-working skill.

Though we are no where near the artistic level of our artist/teacher, we did have fun working with the clay. After the first day, things started to improve. The second day, we were instructed to use the techniques we had learned the previous day to construct something of our choosing. Obviously I chose to make a rhino, the most difficult animal I have ever sculpted in Africa. It turned out looking like a mangled beast - somewhat triceratops-esque, gnarly none-the-less, so I beautified it by adding a basket to its back. The third day was spent at the wheel. We learned how to change a ball of clay into a beautiful pot. Well, I should say, we watched a gifted artist turn a ball of clay into a beautiful pot, then tried unsuccessfully to copy what he had made seem so easy. The fourth day was the same as the third, except our pots didn't fall over or self destruct under our hands. (They were still ugly, of course.)

The whole experience at the Village des Arts was amazing in many ways. All of the artists we worked with (bronze-sculptors, glass-painters, sculptors, batik-ers) are internationally known. Many are showing their works in big name museums in Europe and the States, including the Loeuvre (sp?) and the Met. It was so interesting to get a glimpse into the African artistic community, especially since they are almost entirely Muslim. On this note, the artists were not only taking time from their work to teach us, but they were doing it all without having eaten or swallowed water. This combined with the heat is enough to make anyone grouchy. Instead of focusing on their hunger and the heat, they calmly taught us their craft, occasionally recalling stories of other grueling conditions in which they had worked in other countries.

On a less positive note, the dead-rotting-animals-we've-seen-in-the-street count is up to more than 12 and includes horses, sheep, cats, dogs, and rats. I can't remember if I've said this before, so I'll say it again. Trash in the streets is incredible. Incredible isn't even the right word. It is completely baffling. There is trash all over all parts of all roads. This includes the slums, the middle-class neighborhoods, the upper-class neighborhoods, the markets, downtown, and everywhere else. Trash! Trash! Everywhere. On the same street that the school is on, there are probably 10 piles of trash, each at least 5 ft tall, within one block. Trash gets removed once weekly, but why wait for the trash service to come when you can just augment the pre-existing pile in your front lawn? Sadly, Senegal's sanitation problems will probably get worse before they get better.

Ok, really, I promise to be more diligent about updating. And there might even be videos in the near future. Now I'm off to have Ceebu Jen for the 10th night in a row, hoorah!

Love Ryan

Ceramics

2008-09-15T17:44:00.002Z

Two nights ago, Saturday night, after the experience with the tailor and the cloth-buying, I went chez Fatou Bintou (another student) to break the fast and eat dinner. Coincidentally, their next-door neighbors were throwing a HUGE Catholic wedding reception. Of course, during Ramadan it is not permissible to dance or really to listen to music at all. The whole point is to concentrate on God and to eliminate worldly distractions - to suffer mildly in order to understand the suffering of the prophets and of God himself (God is referred to as male in the Islamic faith). But who can resist some bumpin' jams. Much to the dismay and anger of a few of FaBintou's brothers, we simply couldn't prevent ourselves from shakin' our tail feathers to the loud music. Of course, the bride and groom (and much of their family) were Catholic and were not in observation of Ramadan. It was interesting to think about why one might prevent oneself from dancing or better why one might prevent oneself from listening to music. This is one aspect of the culture around which I cannot wrap my head.

As I previously explained, part of the cultural experience here is working with local artists and creating out own art under their guidance. Today was the first day that the group went to 'La Village des Arts' (or stayed at the school if they were doing batik). The village consists of three, maybe four rows of small studios in which local and international artists live and work. There is one community sink in the middle of the 'compound', so to speak, which is not only the clean up sink, but the ONLY water source for all the artists. During the day, the sun beats down on the tin roofs, creating little sauna-cells for in which the artists' and students' bodies roast like coffee beans. There are also plenty of mosquitos to go around. I was bitten no less than 30 times on my left foot alone. The Village is also home to hundreds of stray dogs and cats. None of these extreme conditions seems to bother the artists, who happily bound in and out of each others' studios throughout the day.

My group of three did ceramics. I forget the artist's name, but I shall ask him tomorrow. He, like many artists and craftspeople in Senegal, comes from a family of clayworkers. His brother actually lives and works as a ceramics-doer in Minnesota. His son was everpresent, helping to cut the clay, prop up the table and fetch sculpting water.

Looking around the studio one could see a variety of different ceramics dishes, bowls and even a few sculptures. After two hours of working, our BASIC pots looked very rough. It was intimidating to look around the room and see a statue of a newly-wed couple, a pot whose skin resembled that of an alligator, a pot whose skin was en checkers, etc; then to not be overwhelmed by the talent in the room. Hopefully, by the end of the week our creations will more closely resemble those of the master. Today's made this goal seem unattainable.

We will return to the Village every afternoon this week to perfect our crafts. Maybe tomorrow I will remember my camera so you can all see the wonders of the studio (and the crap-tastic pots, if they can be called that, we threw today!).

Ba beneen yoon, inshallah!

Until next time...

The club, the market

2008-09-14T12:50:00.002Z

Bonjour mes amis et ma famille

THE CLUB!!!! After two + weeks in Dakar, the group finally got around to going out. There is a nice little jazz/ambient "toubab" bar called "Just 4 U" that features so-called 'hoppin' music right in the same neighborhood as SIT. (Toubab = non-Senegalese/non-African, not necessarily white.) While it was nice to go out to the club and socialize with my classmates and other Anglophones, I was sort of hoping that the music would be a little more lively. Everyone keeps reassuring us that after Ramadan the city will become much more vibrant and lively. I certainly hope this is true, because if I ever have to hear four songs in a row at a 60bpm maximum tempo again in my life, I might fall into a narcoleptic coma.

Some students from the other organizations here in Dakar (CIEE, Minnesota, etc.) have been visiting karaoke bars, dance clubs and other night spots. They all say the same thing, which is that everything will be different while Ramadan is over. I am definitely glad part of our time here was during this month of submission and devotion. Living with devout muslims during Ramadan, we are all learning so much about the Islamic faith; however, I will be SO excited when the month is over and Dakar returns to its normal cosmopolitan self.

Korite - the party to mark the end of Ramadan. This is a very exciting party (particularly for those non-muslims among us who enjoy the nightlife and vitality associated with a metropolitan area). For Korite, everyone makes huge amounts of Senegalese couscous, among other things, and many streets are closed for public gatherings. It is tradition to purchase a new outfit as well. So, to follow tradition, I went to the market yesterday with the sister of a another student, and purchased some fashionable fabrics. She then took us to her favorite tailor, who, since she was once his employee, agreed to make two boubous (the top/bottom combination worn by men) and a pair of shorts for the standard price of one boubou. This was great news! Her sister also saved us a lot of money when we were in the fabric market. For Americans who don't know the prices of materials and prints, it was nice to have someone who not only knows what each fabric should cost, but who is assertive enough to fight the vendors for a competitively low price. For the fabric AND the tailor's fees for two outfits and a pair of shorts, I payed roughly $40 (American dollars). I have never had clothes tailor made, so I am very excited to wear them at Korite.

The crew is off to lunch, but it is Sunday so I would like to come back later and tell you all about the bus. Yes, we got on the bus. Woo.

Ba beenen yoon! A la prochaine fois!

-Ryan

2008-09-12T07:20:00.003Z

Hello everyone;

Asaalaamalekum (peace be upon you!)

Here is the breakdown of classes at SIT.

1. Arts and Culture seminar - In this class we have had guests lecturers from the government, from professors at local universities, etc. We discuss such topics as Islam, Islam in government, and political history in Senegal. We have also visited "Le Village des Artes" which is just that - an artistic community on the edge of Dakar where artists of a wide variety of media work and collaborate. Later on in the term, we will all choose an art-form of our liking (ceramics, batik, glass-painting, etc) and apprentice with a professional in this medium. We are also fortunate enough to participate in a similarly organized encounter with traditional Senegalese music. Each student will spend time learning djembe and traditional dance. After this time, we will then choose to focus on djembe (in more depth), dance (in more depth), tama/talking-drum, or kora (a Senegalese gourd-harp-ish thing with no pedals).

2. Field-Study Semnar - Here we learn a variety of research techniques and relevant inormation for our ISPs (Independent Study Project). This week we have talked about our field journals, in which we take note of different cultural practices, events, homestay happenings, etc.

3. French - Ok, put two and two together. We're not learning Arabic, we're not learning Hindi, therefore we must be learning (or working more on) French!

4. Wolof - This is helpful! Wait, that was an understatement. This is SO extremely crucial! Everyone in Dakar speaks Wolof. All of our families speak Wolof. Some people, including children living at the house, don't even speak French. If you want to pay a ridiculous price for a piece of fabric or for a taxi ride, then Wolof isn't for you; however, if you want to gain enough respect to be charged a decent fare for something, throwing out a little Wolof here and there (or even a lot of Wolof) can mean the difference between being completely ripped off and being treated like a local.

5. ISP - This comes later on in the term. After having done all of our cultural excursions, taken FSS and languages, we will be prepared to go out and do research on a cultural topic of our choice. Some students have done their ISPs on such subjects as, trash in Dakar, NGO work with minorities and sub-groups, music, or hydrology. As you all may have guessed, mine will most likely be about music (though I will confess, some other topics have made me think twice).

This week, in addition to our normal classes we are doing an excursion to Goree Island (off the coast of Dakar) and to a museum. We will ALSO being doing small presentation-style projects on a cultural topic of our choice. This is like an ISP but on a very small scale. My team chose to do imagery in graffiti. For your viewing pleasure I have posted some photographs. Sorry, but we haven't finished the research for the project so these pics have no captions. Enjoy

Ok, I lied twice. The work featured here is not part of our research, but it is highly politically charged. I needed this caption to explain that since there is no "image" we won't use it.

A few more days...

2008-09-08T18:22:00.002Z

Bonjour mes amis et ma famille;

So much has happened since my last update; I don't even know where to begin. Since "le drop-off" the students have moved in with their homestay families, had two Wolof classes, had one French class and taken a tour (en bus) of Dakar.

My homestay family is HUGE. This is very common of Senegalese families. That it is the month of Ramadan means that friends, cousins and acquaintances are always welcome in the home, at any time of the day. Thus my home has anywhere between 15 and 20 people in it at any given time. Since everyone is on Summer vacation and cannot eat or drink during the day, most people stay up all night and sleep all day. As a student who has to attend school during the day, I do most of my sleeping at night. This presents a mild conflict with the family because I am often too tired to eat the meal that has been prepared with me in mind (though, not entirely with me in mind, because the food will ALWAYS be appreciated by someone).

The home is extravagant by Senegalese standards - which are not necessarily lower than those in the U.S. - but usually quite different. We have three living rooms, all of which have cable TVs. There are so many bedrooms that I haven't even seen all of them yet. We even have a hot-water shower (this is a huge luxury enjoyed strictly by the elite).

Many of my colleagues live in one-room homes with one "bathroom," which is more accurately described as a room with a hole in the ground and a wall from which (cold) water drips slowly. In most cases, their bedrooms are indoors, but the living rooms and kitchen are outdoors. Often, families will have goats or chickens living in the kitchen.

Luckily, my family is extremely accommodating - upon arrival they had already set up a mosquito net above my bed, situated a fan between my brother's and my beds and purchased 10-gallon (litre equivalent?) bottles of Toubab (white person) safe water. They also found out, through their brother who lives in Montreal, that I prefer to be vegetarian. They have been cooking traditional Senegalese meals for themselves, but also making sure there is something meatless for me to eat. I appreciate this SO much!!! I love seeing the Senegalese meals and asking questions about their origin, cooking process etc, though these questions are slightly puzzling to them considering I am male and males here do NOT cook. They also don't do laundry. I prefer to do my own laundry but Mame (pronounced mommy = the oldest woman in the house) insists that my sisters do my laundry for me.

Last night I broke the fast (bread, butter and tea) with the family of another SIT student. Words truly cannot explain the open warmth and hospitality here in Senegal. When we arrived chez Melanie (whose Senegalese name is Fatou Binetou), the entire family welcomed us into their home. They said we were welcome there at any time, even if Melanie wasn't there with us. Her sister then proceeded to tell us that she would accompany us to the market to buy fabric. She said that Toubabs would never get the right price for materials. I was unclear why I needed to go to the market to buy fabric, until she told us that she was a seamstress and intended to make us traditional Senegalese clothing. Hours passes and it came time to leave, but the family kept insisting we stay. They all seemed so sad when we told them that we had to go back to our respective families. They all said goodbye and thanked US for visiting them, when it was us who owed them thanks for the offer to make clothing, the wonderful food, and the great times. This is not unusual in Senegal, which speaks volumes about the people here.

As power outages are tragically common here in Senegal, I am running on battery power. For now I will leave you all with pictures of the bus tour of Dakar. Until next time...

The market Sandaga. Yes, they are cutting up a WHOLE cow in the midday heat.
A smaller mosque from a few hundred yards back and above.
L'Isle de Serpent (Snake Island). If anyone's computer can zoom in, those little dots on the beach are actually sleeping dogs.
Ah the third world...the poor and the VERY VERY rich!
Graffiti art next door to the aforepictured mansion.

Le "Drop-Off"

2008-09-04T19:33:00.004Z

Family and friends,

Please forgive the irregularity of my posting habits. Senegal has given me (and the group) so much to think about - so many new lenses through which to view not only our own lives, but those of the Senegalese as well. SIT (the School of International Training) set up a cultural learning activity during which we were dropped off in downtown Dakar to seek people to answer a sheet of questions on the subject of Senegalese culture. Certain groups went to the Centre Culturel, others to le Theatre National, other to markets and others to mosques and cathedrals. My group (which was really only me and another person) started in the bank district and walked through the markets.

The markets here are like many "craftsman" markets around the world. One can walk through at the risk of being harassed and pressured into buying local crafts. Of course we experienced this firsthand today. There are many tactics that the venders use to lure a person into buying an item or even to steal their money. Sometimes, one person will ask you to come into their shop or will stand right in front of you so you can't walk. Then, a cohort will approach from behind and ask you to come with them. The other person, who, of course, is in on the whole scheme, pulls you back toward them. Before you know it, there are two (and usually more) men on either side of you, pressuring you to take a look in their shops. Other people told stories about how they were lured into indoor shops where the vendors would either change the price of the item being purchased (after the money is in their hands) or simply not return the change, claiming that the price should have been the amount of the bill that was used to pay. In some cases it was necessary for the boys to pretend that the women were their wives, yes, wiveS, in order to pull them away from men who were proposing to them or offering to be their "guide."

After touring the bank district and walking through the markets, we ate a nice pizza in a French restaurant and headed back to the streets for more haggling and bartering. It was interesting to return to the office at SIT and hear stories from the other groups. One group, upon realizing that their destination, the Theatre National de Senegal, was closed for Ramadan, asked a guard if there was any way they could see the inside. Not only did he allow them to enter from the back of the building, he dropped everything was doing to give them a tour of the complex. They were able to see a rehearsal for a play, President Wade's private box at the ballet, a rehearsal for a musical, and the private gallery. This is just the surface of the level of generosity in Senegal. Yes, at markets the vendors are pushy and even scary, but EVERY person one sees in public will say salutations unless they are on their mat praying.

Here are a few more photographs from today's excursion;

The statue of the Senegalese soldier outside "le Senat"

The grand mosque in Centre-Ville. To comprehend the amazing size and stature of the mosque, know that this picture was taken from more than a mile away across the bay.

The restaurant Mawouli has a hole in the roof. No problem though, we'll just eat while holding our umbrella!
Ew! Is this real? Ew!

The cathedral in Centre-Ville. Senegalese will openly tell you that it is not important whether or not you are Christian or Muslim. Their conception of race and human blood is extremely unusual to me. Several people have approached me in the streets (without me asking them to) and told me that they encourage such diversity. This is relieving yet strange in a land where homosexuality is illegal and women have very few rights. This country is completely fascinating!!!!

Tomorrow I will move in with my host family, whose connection to an American celebrity I shall reveal in my next post.

A demain...

-Ryan

Wednesday morning. Breakfast.

2008-09-03T07:31:00.002Z

This is the first time I've been truly tired since coming to sea level (but its worth it, of course!). Yesterday the group went to the SIT office for the first time. We had our first Wolof class, in which we learned the names and functions of several specifically African objects. I brushed my teeth with a branch of a special tree (Mom, dentistry here may or may not completely mortify you:) ) whose chemical makeup removes plaque from the teeth and helps to combat gingivitis. If you see a Senegalese (or West African) chewing a twig or scraping it against their teeth, this is a completely common practice here - its cheaper than a toothbrush and paste.

We are all tired and rushing around like fools - I will try to update with photos and a more coherent entry this afternoon. Until then...

-Ryan

Sleepless

2008-09-01T04:48:00.002Z

Bon nuit!

Here in Dakar it is 5h. With all the excitement surrounding the arrival of the other students, its hard for anyone to fall asleep tonight. What a relief it has been to meet everyone else! I realize that we have yet to discover our differences, but the initial energy has been extremely positive.

After everyone had put away their luggage, one of the Wolof-French teachers ordered pizza and we were 'oriented' about not drinking tap water, women not drinking/smoking in public, the taxi system, etc. Tomorrow, we are scheduled to go on an excursion through Dakar. As of now, I'm not sure what that entails; I suspect that they (SIT staff) will drop us off with a scavenger-hunt-spirited search of the city. I can only think to myself, "Please let my French be functional, please let my French be functional."

French-speaking skill levels among the students varies. Some are fluent, some speak only a little French. Of course none of us speaks Wolof. I've picked up one phrase, though: Nanga def (pronounced with a hard g) is like saying hello.

More to come

Love, Ryan

Dimanche. Matin.

2008-08-31T10:26:00.005Z

Hello everyone,

Last night I was watching a televised concert on TV which featured various local musicians. The show was similar to American Idol in that one could cast a vote for the best musician/ensemble via text-message. The votes are accepted from Mali, Gambia, Senegal and many other countries. When the screen showed the number for Senegal, I realized that the former title of my blog, "en Senegal," is a HUGE grammatical error. This compares to saying, "at Denver," vs., "in Denver," thus the change of title to "au Senegal."

[Hier soir j’ai regardé un concert télévisé avec beaucoup des artistes musicales locales. On avait le choix de voter pour le meilleur artiste ou groupe. En regardant le numéro de téléphone pour voter, j’ai réalisé que le titre de mon blog n’était pas correct. Donc, j’ai changé le titre d’ « en Sénégal » à « au Sénégal ».]

Forgetting that today is Dimanche (the day of sleeves/Sunday), I woke very early in search of breakfast. [Quelle belle vue! Voila quelques photographies:]

7h30 (pas de soleil)

7:30 AM (before sunrise)

Yesterday evening I remembered to take malaria prophylaxis. It figures that pills of this nature turn my stomach into goop. Shortly after, it was dinner time and I walked to the restaurant in spite of the fact that I felt like a war was being fought in my intestines. Indeed, I did eat fish. I so badly wanted a delicious, crispy fresh salad; unfortunately, most Senegalese restaurants do not wash produce in iodine solution, a mandatory procedure for the Western stomach. Since the prophylaxis had fully kicked in, what might have been a delicious meal was in fact quite raunchy. I ate what I could and came home feeling hungry and sick. I now take the prophylaxis AFTER breakfast in

the morning. Hopefully next time I have to eat fish it will taste as delicious as it smelled.

[Apres 6 années d’être un végétalien, c’est difficile de manger le viande. Hier soir, j’avais du manger un poisson pour le dîner. C’était délicieux, mais l’estomac est vraiment contre le « prophylaxies » (médicaments contre la malaire). Donc j’avais mal à l’estomac, mais le poisson sentait bon. Ce matin, j’ai mangé un croissant et un œuf. Après ça, je peux commencer de

compre

ndre pourquoi le végétalien‘isthme’ est difficile pour la plupart du monde. Les croissants étaient très très très excellents ! ]

Level du soleil sur Dakar

(Sunrise over Dakar)

This morning at breakfast I ate a croissant and a hard-boiled egg with coffee and orange-mango juice. It is now that I can begin to understand why veganism can be so difficult for so many people. The croissant was incredible. I have no croissant-eating memories to compare this one to, but it was damn good. The egg was also very tasty.

L'Auberge Good Rade

The Auberge (like a hotel)

After breakfast, in search of a fiche, I walked around the neighborhood in which the Auberge is situated. The streets of Senegal are very different than those in America. Most side-streets are unpaved and filled with puddles of stagnant water (right now we are in the rainy season) and trash. From what I can gather, people either burn their trash of throw it into the road for someone else to deal with. There were also vermin and rats (really gross but so cute from a safe distance). The main roads are paved and very clean. I will probably have to go en ville for a fiche, but at least I now know the neighborhood a little better.

[Aujourd’hui c’est Dimanche donc tous des personnes veulent dormir plus tarde. Je me suis réveillé au débout et marché dans la ville. Aussi j’ai cherché une fiche électronique pour l’ordinateur. Les rues de Dakar sont vraiment différentes que les rues aux Etats-Unis. Voilà, il y avait des déchets et des rats dans les rues.]

Later today, the rest of the students will arrive in Dakar. I anxiously await their arrival.

Until next post, adieu

2008-08-30T20:07:00.000Z

Mes amis,

Bonjour de Sénégal!

Luckily, an homme-d’affaires in the Auberge was kind enough to lend me his “fiche,” which is an adaptor suitable for the Sénégalese electrical infrastructure, thus I have only a few minutes to update you all.

I left Denver Thursday night at 11:45 MST (23h45 MST) to arrive in our nation’s capitol at roughly 5:30 AM EST (5h30 EST). I then caught an early flight (8:00 AM ou 8h) to Laguardia airport inNew York City. Then a bus transported me to John F. Kennedy airport where I remained until my flight to Sénégal. Sadly, with my luggage and bags, I didn’t think it wise to wander around the city, thus I stayed in the airport. The flight to Dakar departed at roughly 5:30 PM EST (17h30 EST) and arrived around 5:45 AM Dakar time (1:45 AM EST, 5h45 Dakar). The academic director met me at the airport and drove me to the Augerge Good Rade where SIT will have its orientation later tonight. The Sénégalese follow American politics very closely. All homes (or rather, those fortunate enough to have televisions) and hotels regularly watch CSPAN, MSNBC and CNN. I was quite pleasantly surprised to have a conversation in the car about McCain’s new running-mate. It is very interesting (and, without being too political, it is quite refreshing as well) to hear the foreign perspective on these matters.

This morning (it felt like morning, but really it was late afternoon) I woke to a visitor who brought potable water and walked with me to the restaurant. I checked me menu, and guess what? Well, lets suffice it to say that my next post might include something about the first meat I’ve eaten in years…mais c’est la vie.

En Sénégal il y a beaucoup d’humidité. Les arbres sont toujours verts. Il n’y a pas d’hiver comme aux Etats-Unix. Il pleut pour deux mois dans Aout et Septembre. Aujourd’hui il ne pleut pas mais hier et hier soir il y avais beaucoup de la pluie.

The Auberge is small but very luxurious. There is wireless internet access and all accommodations. My room is a triple, which I will be sharing with the two other boys in the program. We will stay here at the Auberge until Friday, at which time we are expected to meet our homestay families.

It is now time to return la fiche.

Bon soir de Dakar, good evening/afternoon.

-Ryan

Sorry, a few technical difficulties

2008-08-30T18:01:00.002Z

Hello friends and family,

I have safely arrived. I typed a long-ish entry about the journey but I am having minor problems with HTML. I will try to fix these problems. Until then, may peace prevail.

-Ryan

First day in Senegal

2008-08-30T17:59:00.000Z

First Post

2008-08-13T04:29:00.001Z

Colleagues, friends and family,

Hello and happy Wednesday!

Thank you for visiting my blog. This is the first of what will hopefully be many posts to keep you all updated on my classes and whereabouts while studying in Senegal. Please feel free to sign in with your Google (or gmail) log-in name/password and leave comments and/or questions.

Thank you,

Ryan Jeffers