Family: Goree and Guacamole

As mentioned in my previous blog, my goal for my last couple of weeks in Senegal is to dive into life in Dakar. The first target: my host family!

Of course in this predominantly Muslim country, last Thursday, the Catholic Holiday of the Ascension, was a national holiday that cancelled all formal activity. It was a perfect day to take the lil’ host brothers to Goree Island, a small island not 3km from Dakar that stands as a symbol of the Atlantic slave trade. It apparently was discovered by the Portuguese around 1444 and was passed through the possession of the Dutch, British, and French before finally returning to Senegal with Senegalese independence in 1960. Due to its small physical size, only a small percentage of the millions of slaves from W. Africa actually passed through the island. It was mostly used as a commercial trading point nonetheless, it plays a significant role in the representation of this dark period of history.

Ok, so I try to ensure that I have smart little brothers, but it was also a holiday—enough of the academic stuff! Mustafa, Mame Moussa, Lucy and I took the 20 minute ferry to this “Island of No Return.” We started the perfectly sunny day at the Women’s Museum. After which I, of course, showed my lil’ brothers what it really means to have a sister, as they had to sit and wait for me to buy local jewelry! Lots of beads! After lunch of a long promised pizza, we visited the Maison des esclaves (Slave House). The most frequently visited tourist attraction is divided into holding chambers for men, women and children, which served as a last residence before they were shipped overseas. The described grim conditions gave any eerie sense to an otherwise beautiful day. We then explored the petit island a bit more before heading back to mainland. Great day of family bonding and fun in the sun!

When one resides with a host family, it’s pretty much required to cook a ‘meal from home.’ Well, I’m not about to perpetuate this whole American Hamburger thing, so, considering available ingredients, next on the list was tacos! Cilantro is impossible to find here so I can’t say it was really “Mexican” but they loved it! At first glance at the green paste they pronounce as, “gu-ca-moleh” nobody would try it. I insisted that after all the things I have put in my mouth without a single clue or question of what it might be, they must at least try… grimacing faces quickly turned to big smiles and heaping spoonfuls! They also found it quite “interesting” that I would suggest eating uncooked onions—greased up, cooked-until-nutritionally dead onions are in almost every Senegalese plate. The idea of raw veggies is quite bizarre. Even my host Dad, whos praises are more than few and far between, helped himself to second large serving! I think I successfully destroyed their notions that toubabs can’t cook!

In mention of my host Dad…we, in particular, have made quite a bit of progress this week. He is a very proud Wolof man (of Olof origin) and he insists almost everyday that I speak Wolof. Every day when I arrive home, he or one of his friends gives me a fast slew of questions in Wolof- which of course, they have no real intention of me understanding. When I politely try to ask, “ca veut dire quoi en francais?” (that means what in French) they throw their head back in laughter and start the daily chant, “She hasn’t learned anything!” While they say it in jest, its gets a bit tiring- especially on those emotionally sensitive days in the exchange process. Well, this week when he started his chant, I looked him directly in the eyes (which a young person is never to do to an elder in Wolof culture) and I proudly stated, “I have learned a lot in your beautiful country—but NOT Wolof.” He stopped, gave me a smirk and a pat on the back. I haven’t heard the chant since!

So, things with the Senegalese family are going great and I look forward to the next month together. I must also throw in that things with the American family are also great as another nephew was born this week! Bienvenue, Luke James et felicitations a Tom et Melissa!!!

why is it that when things start to feel comfortable, change is always just around the corner?

oh, and this whole gift for languages thing...I'm not sure I consider it such a gift anymore being that I have to translate my CV into 3 additional languages....did you know that Microsoft Word's Dictionary now has the language option: Espanol (Etados Unidos)...

Photo snaps of the Casamance...

The beach at Cap Skirring was one of the most beautiful I've seen in the world. Being that it wasn't tourist Season or saison des espanols (apparently lots of Spaniards come every July), there was no one but us and a couple of stray bulls.

Yep, he's really popular everywhere. Pic of the three Americans and two local guys.

One afternoon we visited a village that makes cashew nuts. I had absolutely no idea how much work it is to get just one nut. weeks and weeks...did you know that someone has to shell each individual nut from the fruit...after its been cooked, dried for 3-21 days (depending if its rainy season) then roasted, then a skin is shaved off...I now understand why they're expensive!

Me w/ local rasta guys and the regional delicacy-- palm wine! Lots of rastas in the Casamance. They don't do much but pot and assist with local image to the tourist industry.



Tons of flamingos! They're a beautiful and rather regal looking species. I especially enjoyed watching their knees bend "backwards."

The usual walk to a local village. Hot, dry, big baobab trees, mud huts. The houses in the Casamance are much bigger than other regions and sometimes made to house entire villages and their livestocks, particularly during colonial times.

Typical plate... "gumbo" which is really a bed of white rice covered in a green sauce made from okra, lots of palm oil that includes lots of different kinds of sea food. Its a dish full of lots of surprises!

Its all about who you meet...

So my month of discovering Senegal has finally ended and I’m back in Dakar for the rest of my scholarship period, 2 months. Our last trip to the Casamance (SE Senegal) was just as everybody said it would be—beautiful.

The Casamance is noted as the most beautiful region of Senegal however if one decides to venture there the most prudent will tell you: “oh, noo! It’s much too dangerous.” Secluded from the rest of Senegal as it’s snuggled between the Gambia and Guinea Bissau, with its diverse climates, luscious fruit and natural resources, the Casamance flounders between struggles for independence and submissive national peace. The locals will affirm that while random uprisings exist it’s overall very calm and well worth the risk.

The beaches were beautiful (if you read in French, check out “CapSkirring” blog), the people were amazingly hospitable, the fruit overly abundant (I think we ate our weight in mangoes and its not even peak season), the weather was hot but not unbearable. We did not pre-program this trip but instead decided to go with only our guidebooks and the wind. It was a great decision! We discovered great places but most remarkable were the people we encountered.

Just arrived to the village of Oussouye (uu-sue-e) we were walking the streets looking for a place to stay when we stumbled upon Santa Claus’ hideout! Practically in the middle of the street, like he was awaiting our arrival (after all, he does know all the bad/good lil’ boys and girls), was this elderly, very round man with white hair, a white beard and sparkling eyes shielded by tiny gold rimmed glasses. He nabbed us with his smile and led us to an auberge (hostel). Claude is his ‘hideout’ name and he claims to be a Frenchman who owned three restaurants in France, two of which he only employed handicap persons, before things fell apart with his wife and he moved to Senegal. Now embraced as an intimate member of the Diolla community (local ethnic group), he knows all of the secrets.

1) The first afternoon he led us to a neighboring village to the private home of the women who runs the women’s pottery commune. She gave us a private demonstration and was extremely hospitable.
2) Our second day there (bike ride day!), he led us into the middle of the forest where he had some of his local friends prepare a local feast. One of them took a pirogue (sm) boat to cut the oyster encrusted mangrove roots while the other prepared the fire. In the meantime, we sat on a log with a mat of palm leaves in front of us. I used to think that oysters look like tiny fetus in a shell—I couldn’t eat them. However, being that they went to all this effort, I thought I should at least try one. So, with knife in hand, I cautiously pried open one of the warm shells, still attached to the mangrove root. The juice dribbled down my arm as I flicked the tiny muscle into my mouth…well, about 25 delicious pieces later I could only groan with delight! Love ‘em- who knew?!
3) When you think things can’t get any better, that night SC/Claude agreed to make us dinner! Fresh salads of carrots and cucumbers covered in Greek style yoghurt w/ mint etc (and unless you live on fried fish and fried rice w/ no fresh veggies for 4 months you’ll never fully understand this as a delicacy). Salads were followed by fresh fish kabobs and chocolate crepes to top it off…oh, Santa Claus….:)~ (insert more groans of delight)
(photo: Animist King, Jonathan, Lies and new Scottish friend)

We also met a Scottish speech therapist who is traveling W. Africa on a bike. She doesn’t speak French, is a vegetarian and travels alone. Never say never!
We also met the Animist King. He reigns from Oussouye and covers about 18 villages to the border of Guinea Bissau. He is the only one to wear an all red boubou and he let us ask him any question we liked for about 45 minutes. I’m not sure how to explain this situation. To prepare yourself to see a real-life “King”…Animism …any question…very interesting.



For more than half the trip we were accompanied by John, random English ‘explorer.’ After working for about a year as a lawyer in England he decided that wasn’t the life for him so he has since: run a marathon in Laos, in flip-flops; was conveniently close to Indonesia after the Tsunami of 2004 so dedicated 5-6 months getting local communities back on their feet; rode clandestinely into Pakistan in a trunk of a car; crossed the Mauritanian desert, on foot, alone; the list goes on... We shared many great stories and belly-aching nights of laughter. (John in a fish sorting truck)
So while the landscape and cultural discoveries were unforgettable it was really the people that made the trip. When all together, we comprised of a: Swede, Belge, Canadian, New-Zelander, Englishman, Scottswoman and 3 Americans. Love it! For Jonathan (Swede), Lies (Belge) and I, it was our 4th trip together in Senegal and it was a truly special one at that. Jonathan left Senegal the same day we returned to Dakar. Lies leaves in 10 days. I still have two months, for which I’m very excited.

The more I have traveled outside of Dakar the more I have picked out things I don’t appreciate about it. So, with my French really rolling now I’m going to completely throw myself into life here. While I might not end up loving the city itself, as this trip has reaffirmed, it’s all about the people. I look forward to spending more time with my host family, getting in some quality time at local NGOs, establishing deeper local roots and overall, falling in love with local culture!

Cap Skirring....

Le crépuscule est tombé, donc tout le monde à laisse les vagues pour aller se doucher—sauf mon ami et moi. C’était trop joli pour laisser le soleil se coucher seul donc nous l’avons accompagné en marchant sur la plage. Bien sûr qu’en attendant nous avons trouvé un bar avec une bouteille de vin—mais au retour je n’ai jamais vu une chose aussi joli. La plage était énorme—et vide. Les vagues présents—pas trop fortes mais pas silencieuse. La lumière lunaire apportait un équilibre parfait. Même les filmes ne peuvent pas créer une scène aussi somptueuse…

Birthday Wishes

Another year has come and gone...in my life, that is.
First and foremost I would like to send a sincere thanks for all the love and hugs sent across the ocean via snail mail and/or email. I must say, I was the most popular girl at the school's mailbox! I really can't begin to express how much it meant to me that so many people took time to send cards-- especially because I've come to learn it is not part of US culture. Thank you, thank you! It really is the small things in life that count.

So, what did I do for the my Golden Birthday?...I must say it was a birthday I shall never forget.
I actually spent the weekend at World Youth Day for West Africa. In a town about 2-4hours N of Dakar, NW Africa came together to praise and celebrate God. Once again, in a predominantly Muslim country, it was a great experience. It was once again a weekend of simple accomodations but we met lots of cool people. I now have friends from Gabon and Congo!

The weekend was ironically sponsored by a local beer company, so like all good Catholics, the eve of my Golden b-day Lucy, Cody, our new international buddies and I could throw back a couple of cold ones! I was off to a great start!

Sunday, my birthday, the final mass was supposed to start at 9:30...long story short around 11:30 in 90degree heat w/ the sun beating directly down on the crowd smashed into a stadium like sardines the mass was just starting- but with a military band and political talks about the church's role in Africa... sun burn. Tired, hot and dirty, Lucy, Cody and I decided to skip out and find our own way back to a real mass in Dakar.
The rather normal, tired, hot, sun-burnt and dirty we found a ride back to Dakar. About an hour into the drive a young lady decided to cross the street without looking just as we were wizzing past. Being that it was my birthday, I was in the front seat and thus got a front row seat as we hit her, she rolled over the hood and landed back on the side of the road! By the grace of God and miracles, she was o.k...no blood or broken bones...we were all shaken up quite a bit...
Our hired taxi took off with her to the local hospital and we were left under a tree in mid-day heat...about 1-2hrs later we found another ride...
Finally we made it back to Dakar where my host family had forgotten it was my birthday. Birthdays are not really celebrated here, and I knew that so I bought myself a doughnut, took a cold shower and decided to give myself a good long night sleep- in a bed- for my birthday!
So once again, thank you all so much for the letters of love! It really made the day a special day!

I'm now off to my last trip... tonight 7 of us will take an all night boat ride to S Senegal, the Casamance. Everyone says its beautiful, green, lush and with lots of mangos! They also speak Creole Portugese...so I have a feeling its gonna be a great week!