Foundiougne photos 5

Views of Foundiougne from the ferry. The boat-looking thing is actually a house owned by some rich European guy. The fourth picture is of freshly fried donut holes sold on the ferry- they were tasty. The last photo is of the bus ride home from Fatick (the mainland town that the ferry connects to) to Dakar. As you can see, every single seat on that bus was filled. You'll also notice that there appears to be no aisle, and you'll be correct, except that there is... every row has a fold down chair to hold another passenger. Each chair folds up when people need to use the aisle. Essentially it's just to make the most of the space by putting more people on the bus. It was odd though not having an aisle... it felt claustrophic, and a bit scary actually when I thought about what would happen if a disaster happened.. but, thankfully, of course, nothing happened and we made it home safely.

Foundiougne photos 4

Photos of us dancing the night away! Then, 2 photos of the ferry port.

Foundiougne photos 3

Here's a photo of a tree that's huge... i don't know if the photo does it justice... but it's huge.. Then there's some photos of me, Assane, and Yemi playing UNO on the hotel deck.. last, there's a photo of the ferry that we took from the mainland to Foundiougne (did I say that Foundiougne is an island? well, it is..)

Foundiougne photos 2

These were taken just outside Assane's grandmother's home. That's Assane on the bike (in the last photo).

Foundiougne photos 1

Hotel in Foundiougne and the patio area overlooking the ocean.

going out of town tomorrow!

Tomorrow morning, at the butt-crack of dawn, we'll hit the road for Foundioune! Assane's uncle volunteered to drive us (me, Assane, Yemi- Vicki's sitting this one out). We're leaving at 6am, and should get there at 9am or just thereafter. Not bad.

I'm really excited for this trip. Assane will introduce us to his family, and I'm sure they'll welcome us with an absurd amount of hospitality. We'll probably stop along the way and pick up some foodie treats for them as a way to say thanks.

I don't know what else we have on the agenda, other than a boat ride (in a pirogue- the fishing boats that look like big, painted canoes) to a few islands and beaching it. I think there might be a national park there, too, but I'm not sure. I'll have to bring along the ol' guidebook.

Anyway, we get back on Monday, so you won't hear from me for the next couple of days. But don't worry, we're in the best of hands. Take good care until then!

MUAH!!!!

"Mom-my, WOW! I'm-a-Mus-lim-now!"

The way I was holding my bou-bou pants from getting dirty made Yemi think I looked like a girl going to the prom. And, in fact, that's what I felt like! The gray and green ones were tailored, but I purchased the white one at the market. The tailored ones, if I were Senegalese, would probably only be worn on Fridays for the grand trip to the mosque, or for fancy occasions, or if I were a professional in some capacity (usually they have more of a sheen to them). Most of the "everyday" bou-bous look more like the white one, and in different colors, of course.

The last picture is of a lizard that found its way into Yemi's room. It was probably the length of my pinky finger- it was really quite adorable! But we had to kill it. Assane said that if a lizard like that walks on your skin at night while you're asleep, your whole arm would swell up (or whatever it walked across... can you imagine your face? eek!) Apparently the cute lil' devils have poison on their paws. Sad that we had to kill him, but better for Yemi!

walking through that fear- oh yeah!

I don't know what changed in the universe, but today was a completely different experience than yesterday! I had decided last night that I was going to suck up my fear and make as many phone calls this morning as possible. But even still, when I woke up today, I began by checking my email, eating breakfast, then checking my email again, and then again, all in an effort to put off having to make those uncomfortable calls. Finally, I sat down and wrote out exactly what I wanted to say in French, including several possible scenarios so that I wouldn't be caught off-guard and stuttering my way to comprehension. And then, I made my first call.

And surprise, it was a great success! Bouba Diop had heard that I would be contacting him, so that made it easier. But even then, there were a few moments when I had to ask him to repeat himself. In the end though, he invited me to meet him at 5pm in his office on campus.

After Bouba, I called another professor, who had NOT been expecting me, and that was an uncomfortable conversation. He seemed annoyed with my French, and when I said that he was recommended to me by his colleague, he said, "nope, I'm not interested." Those weren't his exact words, but it's the best equivalent meaning. 1 for 2- not bad.

Then I tried calling 4 other professors, all of whom were not able to answer their phones. I'll try them again tomorrow.

Then I called a student I had met, and he said that I could interview him at 2pm. So, there, my work for the day was cut out for me.

After lunch at the Baobab Center, Adama (the student), met me there and we walked to his house where I could interview him in a more private setting. We spent 90 minutes talking about incidents of conflicts in his life, how he felt about them, and how he has resolved them. I could have spent much more time asking him follow-up questions, but after 90 minutes, we were both tired, and I had to leave for my meeting at 5. Before I left though, he introduced me to several of his friends living in the same building, all of whom agreed to be participants! So, tomorrow I will return at the same time, and then probably the next day as well. It really couldn't have gone better!

When I arrived to the campus, I didn't know where Bouba's office was located. I had never seen the building, but I knew the general location. So, I headed in that direction and asked a guard if he could help me. He pointed and said to keep walking and that I'd run into it, but I think he could see the desperation in my face, and so he called to some guy walking by and asked him if he could walk me there. The guy, of course, smiled and said ok, no problem. We chatted on the way there- he's a student, he's taken a few English courses, he's never been to America but he would like to, I don't speak Wolof very well, etc. etc. We arrived at Bouba's office, and I gave this student the most heartfelt thanks- I felt like I should tip him, but obviously not!

The meeting with Bouba was ok- not very informative, but he has connections for me. I'm returning tomorrow so that he can introduce me to a professor in the law school. This woman is also the director of the Institute for Peace and Human Rights. So, needless to say, I think this will be a great meeting tomorrow.

Assane brought our dinner tonight- Sayda stayed home because her youngest son was ill. We ate, then talked about this weekend, and our plans to go to his hometown, Foundioune (fune-dune). His uncle will drive us there (me, Assane, and Yemi), and then me and Yemi will sleep at a hotel that is ran by a woman Assane knows. Apparently our bedroom window overlooks the ocean, but I'm not getting too excited, yet- you just never know here.. and that's not an insult.. it's just how things work here..people will say one thing, and for whatever reason, things change..so I've learned not to get hooked on what I hear until I see it in front of me. I'll tell you more about Foundioune later, but I should get off for now. I haven't had my daily nap, and I'm tired.

Hope you're all well. Love,
Ryan

so THIS is why nobody does this kind of work

so do you remember the last words of The Wicked Witch of the West? "Oh what a world, what a world..." as she descends into a puddle of her own being. This was how I was feeling about 20 minutes ago, just before I checked my email, and just before I had a little chat with Vicki. But, as with other things in life, my "problems" just had a marvelous way of being melted down to nothing- on their own time though, not mine. I put "" on problems because everything now that I consider to be "problems" seem so ridiculous in light of the things I've seen here.

Today, I was supposed to have an interview with a professor in sociology at 10am at the University. I arrived on time, but he was in class, and he walked out of it to tell me that he had to cover a lecture for one of his colleagues, and that we could not meet as scheduled. He actually walked out of his class of 50+ students to tell me this- can you imagine? I was appreciative, but I was in plain sight of all the students, and I felt like such a Toubab (this is the word Africans use to talk about white people.. I think I mentioned it before.. it's not derogatory, but it can be). If it were me, I would have been thinking, "Why the heck is our professor leaving class for this Toubab? Isn't it enough that he's colonized us at one point, and now he's doing this?" But, then again, that's my own way of thinking- it's not necessarily theirs. In fact, I'm sure it isn't.

Ok, so I admit I'm a bit dramatic. Now you see how my mind works.

I walked away from Semou (the professor) feeling defeated, again, and without clear direction about what to do next. He told me to come back at 1pm, but it was 10am, so what was I to do for 3 hours? Wait around in the hot sun? No, so I tried the library, figuring I could sit in there and study. Hah! Good luck trying to find an empty seat in there during exam time! There were SEVERAL, I mean SEVERAL, tables with chairs for students, and each was full. Ok, Plan B- I decided to walk to the other research center I've worked at before, WARC, which is about a 30 minute walk from the U campus. It's a lovely walk, though- it's all along the coastline. It was warm, but bearable with the cool breeze from the ocean. And, I kept thinking to myself, "I'll soon be in an air-conditioned room," over and over again!

I studied at WARC until 12:30, then packed up and got back on the road. You should really see me here- I'm sure it's quite a vision.. this Toubab who's walking like he's on a mission, rather than sauntering like the Senegalese. I'm sure it's quite amusing to watch. I even laugh! But on I go, on my little mission... and I get there, we meet again (Semou), and we sit in his stifling office. I start in with my pigeon French, and he quickly takes command of the conversation, much to my relief. As he shares his beliefs about peace in Africa, I sit there, scribbling away on my notepad, trying to jot down every little French word or phrase I catch (I record the interviews, too), while every 5 seconds I use my left hand to wipe the deluge of sweat coming from the top of my scalp. I think if I had hair it might catch the sweat, but because I don't, it falls down to my eyes as soon as it's produced. It's really obnoxious. But what makes it worse is that he's not sweating a bit, even while he's wearing a full length bou-bou that covers him from neck down. Yes, they are supposed to be cooler, but still! In that heat I don't think it should matter.

After a half hour, we wrapped things up, and parted ways. I caught the nearest bus home and walked to the fast-food joint around the corner. I got a light, cold sandwich- anything else sounded disgusting at the moment. I went home, then realized that I didn't have a key to get in, and both Vicki and Yemi were at the Baobab Center- a good 20 minute walk, or $3 taxi. The sound of walking any more made me want to cut my wrists right then, so I decided to sit in the shade, eat my sandwich, and take a taxi after I'd cooled off a bit. This is exactly what I did.

When I finally got home, I took a cold shower and fell asleep. This was at 5ish, and I didn't wake up until 8, when dinner got here. This heat REALLY is incredible. It is a force to be reckoned with. I pushed it a bit too far today, and it bit back. Vicki said not to do that again, and I'm going to try not to, even if it means spending a little bit more money on a taxi when I could just as easily walk. But, I have to remember, walking 30 minutes here is not like walking 30 minutes anywhere else!

Even after my interview today, I was still feeling defeated. I had literally spent the entire morning and afternoon working for one 30 minute interview. True, it was an amazing interview, but still! If I try to do this everyday I'll run myself into the ground for sure. Other than calling these professors on their mobile phones (which I really didn't want to do because of my discomfort with French), there's really no other way. So, tomorrow, I decided, I will make phone calls as early as possible. And, if I get their voicemails, I'm going to say that I'll try them again in a few hours. And if that doesn't work, I'll say that I'll try them the next morning. And if that doesn't work, I may have to invest in a cell phone so that I have voicemail. Our home phone doesn't have voicemail, which is why I'm making this sound more complicated than it needs to be. Vicki agrees with this strategy (note to self), and, she confirmed that I had a hard day (another note to self). She also said that this is normal at first, and that it gets easier. I'm trying to keep that in mind, but it gets hard.

So yeah, I was just about to throw the towel in when I opened my email and there were two emails- one from a student at the U that I had asked to interview, and one from Kany (the Senegalese woman in Minneapolis whom I had dinner with before leaving), both offering to help with my research! Kany said that she heard I was having problems contacting professors, and that I could contact two of her professor friends (although I probably won't, as they're both language professors, and not all that relevant for my topic), and the student said enthusiastically that he would sit down with me for an interview. So there you go- "problems" solved, sort of. They're solved in the sense that I feel motivated to do this another day, and sometimes that's all one can hope for. For me, definitely, it's enough for right now, and I'm grateful for it.

Ok, my eyes are drooping again.. I guess it's time for bed! Seriously? Ok, I guess so. Until tomorrow!

a quick addendum to yesterday's post

ok, so I realized later, after posting yesterday's account of Assane asking me about men and women, that I should be more clear about the WAY he asked, and why I responded the way that I did. I want to do this so that you don't think the worst.

So, yesterday, when he asked me if I wanted to find a man, he didn't ask it maliciously. And, I know this because there had been several days between him seeing my email inbox (with the gay.com announcement) and yesterday, and he had not treated me any differently. In other words, he must have been thinking about this during that time, but he didn't treat me any differently, which tells me that he would probably be sympathetic. This doesn't mean he would understand it completely, and I wouldn't expect him to, but it does mean that he wouldn't have malicious intent- this, I believe.

The second time he asked me about women, it was again, non-confrontational. I think he's genuinely curious to know more- that's all. He's probably had several encounters and friendships with Westerners as a result of working with the Baobab Center, and because of this, he's probably more receptive to understanding than others who have not had these kinds of encounters.

But don't worry- I'm not going to act fast on this matter. I'm asking the Universe right now what is best to do. What purpose am I here to serve, and is this part of it? Ultimately, this will guide my next steps.

It was informative already to reflect on my reaction to Assane's questions, because if you recall, I was kind of pissed at first. I was really confused about this; it's not like Assane asked me in a rude way- in fact, he did it in the best way possible considering the circumstances. But it caught me off-guard, nonetheless, and I think it's because it simply reminded me too much of junior high, when these sorts of questions were all over the place.

Junior high was a horrible time for me. I was overweight, and I had maroon-colored hair cut in the popular mushroom style of the times (long on top, shaved on the sides). My inspiration was what's her face from the tv show, My so-called Life, and my brother's hippie girlfriend at the time. I wore a leather necklace that hung down my chest with an inch-sized fish dangling at the end. I had a valley-girl accent (do I still?) and my social network consisted of girls only. So, of course, it was common to be asked the question, "Hey, are you gay or what?" And, as you can imagine for someone at that age, this was like the doomsday question- no matter what I answered, I was fucked either way. Even if I said no, I'm not gay, I knew they wouldn't believe it, and that it wouldn't end the questioning. I knew that it would only bring more ridicule, either way.

So it is with these memories that I shot back at Assane with, "And you, do you want a man?" I didn't realize this until last night after I had journaled. It made me kind of sad, actually, that I could be so susceptible to those memories even 15 years later. Now I'm ok with it, and I realize it was just an automatic response- a sort of learned, internalized defense. The good news is that I don't have to let that control what I choose to do from here. I can choose to be honest, if I want to be, and open to Assane's curiosity, in a dignified, loving way.

to be, or not to be?

Today I felt so much better than yesterday. Yemi and I walked to the grocery store at around noon, only to find that it was closed (we forgot that lots of things are closed on Sundays). So instead, we stopped at Chez Joe's for some schwarma (it's like pita bread stuffed with shredded beef and french fries and yummy sauce... to die for, in other words). On our way home, we stopped inside a parfumerie and sampled some of their perfumes and colognes. After sampling about 5, I decided on the first one that I tried- a sweet, musk scent with notes of vanilla and cotton-candy. Similar to Angel, by Thierry Mugler, but not as sweet. It's a huge bottle, and it only cost 6500 cfa's (roughly $16). I was a happy camper. Momma raised a good little shopper...

When we got home we changed into our swimsuits and walked over to Sayda's house. There, we met with Assane and two more of Sayda's nephews and we hitched a couple of taxis to Yoff beach (I know, I know, I promised I wouldn't go back there after the last incident, but it's their favorite beach..) We must have stayed there for a few hours... there were TONS of people... mostly Senegalese. And seriously, the men need to put some clothes on.. they are ridiculously well-built!! I think even if I did a gazillion push-ups every day I still could never have a chest like that... honestly, it's RIDICULOUS! Ah well, fun to admire anyway.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. So we were sitting there under the cabana after a little swim and Assane started asking Yemi if she wanted to find a man on the beach.. jokingly it seemed... so Yemi replied, yes, of course, and then posed the question to Assane, and he said yes, too, of course... and you can see where this is going... so then Assane asked me, "Ryan, you are searching for a woman here?" and Yemi and I both chuckled a bit, and before I could even respond, he asked, "Ryan, do you search for a man here?" This caught me so off-guard that I was actually a little pissed, so I shot back with, "You, Assane, do YOU want one?" The moment passed over with a few awkward laughs, and then we all acted like nothing had happened. But it was on my mind for the rest of the day. I wondered whether he was serious or if he was just kidding around. And then it came to me- I'm pretty sure he was dead serious and that he had been waiting for that opportunity. I realized this because I remembered how last week, when he was hanging out after serving us dinner, he asked if he could check his email on my computer. I said he could, and I let him do his thing. Well, about 3 minutes later, he called me over because he couldn't understand what the screen said (it was in English), and I saw that he had been trying to access his email account, but that instead it was MY email account that popped up (because I'm always signed into MSN.com) and there was an email there from gay.com. I wouldn't have thought much of this, but just a minute before this I had looked up at him and noticed a confused/surprised look on his face. Putting 2 and 2 together, I figured that he saw that, and that it triggered a whole process for him, like trying to remember if I'd ever said anything about women (presumably a natural topic of conversation for straight men- like the weather). Long story short, I think he knows.

I probably would have let this go as coincidence or joking, but then later tonight he said something again, asking me if I think the women here are beautiful. This was only after Yemi had expressed her views on the men here, and after he expressed the same for women here. And again, I gave sort of a sheepish, "sure, they're ok" kind of answer because I need to think about this some more. I need to really be sure that it will not cause any problems if I were to come out to him. And, would I ask him to keep it to himself? Or, if he said that it was ok to tell Sayda and her family, would I feel ok with that? What if it got further than that and people at the Baobab Center found out? Then what?

A big part of me just felt like saying, "yes, I prefer men." But, the tiny bit of conscientiousness I do have told me not to; at least not right now. It's a strange experience to be put back into the closet. I had forgotten what these concerns felt like. It's not a good place to be, and I'm grateful that I don't have to deal with this on a regular basis. It's a blessing to be gay in America; no matter how it compares to more progressive countries on gay rights, it's still a hell of a lot better than being gay in Senegal (and probably all of Africa).

Anyway, I'm going to consider coming out to Assane. I think it could be a really good experience. It might also be bad. But, this is what I need to weigh out.

Ok, that's all for tonight. I'm gonna get to bed early tonight and then try to work on my paper some more tomorrow. I have too many thoughts in my head that need to be put down in writing- then, and only then, will they start to come together. Goodnight!

Minneapolis, dear Minneapolis...

I MISS YOU MINNEAPOLIS!!! I just got off the phone with my friend Christopher, and he was on his way to the Walker Sculpture Garden, and I nearly cried when I pictured his surroudings.. Lyndale and 22nd. Nothing particularly special about that intersection; a Super America gas station, a liquor store, and a grocery store just down the street. Anyway, I just miss it- I miss it all. I wish I could spend even 2 days back home, sleeping in my own bed, making my own meals, doing my own laundry (no, scratch that!), walking down Hennepin Avenue, downtown, Nicollet Mall, Loring Park, Lake Calhoun, everything! But most of all, I wish I could spend even an hour with friends (and that includes sponsors, of course!)- I want to laugh and be silly over a bowl of icecream and fried chicken and then watch an artsy fartsy or really campy gay film. Mmm... some gummy bears and M&M's.. oohh with cheese and caramel popcorn... shit, maybe I'm just hungry! NO!!! just kidding.. this is definite, 100% homesickness. I think it's because it's Saturday night, and that's boys night in my world. But instead, I went to a dinner party with some other American students and their Senegalese friends... it was ok, but not my idea of a good time. I spent the entire evening trying to understand what they were saying.. it was discouraging.. I like to think that my French is pretty good.. that it's better than a beginner, but then I have these experiences where I feel totally incompetent! I know it's normal, and I'm not feeling pity for myself or putting myself down, but it is frustrating.. that's all.. especially when the conversation seems like it WOULD be interesting if I could understand. One of the guys there tonight was a diplomat for the Senegalese government- how interesting it would have been to understand what it is that he actually does! But no, he says diplomat, explains a bit more in French, and I nod politely as I feign comprehension.. "ahh... c'est tres interessant.." ("that's very interesting..")

Ok, enough of that. I do feel better now, though. I just talked to a few close people, and it was nice to hear what's going on in their lives. It occurred to me today that I have the luxury of sharing my life with several people all at once through this blog, but I don't get to hear what's going on in your lives, which of course, means that I need to try calling/emailing more. Otherwise I get too caught up in my own life, and that's fine and dandy, but I need to stay informed about y'all, too. So if you get a chance, send me an email, call, do whatever to tell me what's new in your life. Seriously!

So here's the breakdown for today and yesterday:
Today, I slept in until almost noon because I was up late last night from the Sean Paul concert. The concert was a lot of fun- the weather was great to be out in (cool and breezy), and the crowd was energetic and loving- it was full of love, and I'm not joking here. Some random kid came up to me, Yemi, and Assane asking for a drink of our water, and Assane purchased the kid his own water. It was funny because the kid only came up to Assane, and he seemed to expect Assane to do this, as if Assane had some kind of responsibility for his well-being. And obviously, he does! It was very sweet, that's all.

Earlier in the day, Friday, I went to the University again to hunt down some more professors, but they were all gone. Instead, I went to the library and did some reading. Then, I had lunch at the restaurant there- I ordered fried chicken and fries, and it was the worst thing I've encountered here; actually the worst thing I've had in a LONG time.. the chicken was rubbery, and I didn't eat it. It was like eating dog meat, if that's what dog meat is like.. I can only imagine, but that's what came to mind anyway. It was disgusting- that's the point. After that I went back to the Baobab Center to meet Assane and Sayda. We went to their house and their tailor measured me up for the bou-bous he's going to make for me. I'm so excited about this! After that I pretty much hung out with Assane until the concert started.

Today was a lazy day- I started working on my paper for this project here, and then I took a nap, and then it was time to go to the dinner party. And now I'm here, swatting at the world's most persistent mosquito. As much as I'd like to kill it, I do have some satisfaction knowing that it is repelled by the lotion I'm wearing... it's just dying to find an area of exposed skin, but it ain't gonna find it 'cause I'm wearing my full-body covering bou-bou... haayyy... so take that you stubborn ass 'squito!!!

ok, and now that I'm having a fight with some poor mosquito, I think that's my cue to go to bed. Hopefully he doesn't haunt me in my dreams as some giant alien mosquito twice my size... getting his revenge... eek. ok, more later, tomorrow, folks. AGGGHHH why doesn't he just land on me already so I can take him out!!! He's too smart... ok, I just smacked myself again in my vain attempt to kill him, so I'm really going to bed now.. until tomorrow.. goodnight.

bomb-diggity-bomb bou-bou fabric!!!!

ah yes, just a quick note to say I bought some NICE fabric to make 2 more bou-bous!!! One is a shade of grey, but it's shimmery, actually they're both shimmery, but the other one is a shade of green.. like a chartreuse green. Both, gorgeous, of course. I'll get measured tomorrow at the tailor's house. So, prepare, America, for the new fashion craze... !

oh, and I coined a phrase yesterday that is too much fun to say.. so, basically, whenever you want to say that something is really cool or bomb-diggity or really neat, you can say, "that's some beaucoup sh*t right there!" of course, you have to follow it with, "haaayyy..." -- ok, so to pronounce "beaucoup" you would say, "bo" as in boat and then "coo" as in cool.

another one I like, but it belongs to Yemi, is, "sweet sauce," which can be used in similar situations. So if you read this blog, and you got excited about the bou-bou fabric, you would say, "ah! sweet sauce!" or, when you see me in my bou-bou, you can say, "now that's some beaucoup sh*t right there!" and we'll both say, "haaayyy..."

University Shenanigans

Good morning to all! Today is Thursday, and I'm taking it somewhat easy.. yesterday pooped me out. Yemi and I went to the University so I could hunt down some professors and schedule interviews. It was HOT, and we did a lot of walking. It's a huge campus. I was only able to find one professor. They're hard to get a hold of unless you call ahead, and I'd prefer to meet in person first, mostly because my french is shaky. They're busy right now, being the end of the semester, and their hours are different here. They usually work in the mornings, then take a 3 hour break during lunch (the hottest part of the day), and then they return to campus at around 3pm. I knew this, so yesterday we got to campus at about 3, and we went immediately to the Facultes de Lettres (which includes philosophy, history, and anthropology). I waited for the secretary to help me, but she stayed on the phone for a good 30 minutes while I stood outside her door. Then, when she hung up the phone, and I thought, "Yes, here's my chance," she packed up her stuff and began to leave. She asked me, in an annoyed sort of way, what I wanted. I asked if she could tell me where Mamousse Ndiaye was, and if she had his email address. She said he was in a meeting, and she led me down the hall. I didn't realize she was going to interrupt his meeting, which happened to be with 5 other professors, but she did! I kept telling her it was ok, that I would wait until he was finished or come back, but she insisted. I begged.. I pleaded.. but she looked at me like I was crazy, as if she couldn't understand why I felt so uncomfortable with the idea of interrupting a faculty meeting just so I could schedule a damn meeting. I felt a panic attack coming on, but after some prodding, Mamousse came out of his meeting, we shook hands, and I apologized profusely for interrupting his meeting. He assured me that it was ok, and that he would be happy to meet with me. Then he gave me his home phone number as well as his mobile phone and said to call him. If it weren't for his tranquility, and his overall Father of the Earth demeanor, I probably would have flipped out completely. Now, I have to laugh about it, because I realize it was only a cultural difference, and how funny it is that it affected me so strongly. Me, the social psychologist, someone who has studied the power of situations to affect thoughts, feelings, and behavior. HAH!

After this important, real-world application of my studies, we walked over to the library so we could check it out. The librarian signed us up so we could have access to their materials, and then he proceeded to help us in the same way that the librarian helped us at the West African Research Center. He took down our interests, and then brought us several books on those topics. Of course, they were all in French, and I sighed in despair, but we sat down nevertheless and started plowing through them. Yemi was lucky; she had some English ones. In general, it seems like she can always find an English text, and I think this is because her topic is so pervasive (Islam and Politics), whereas mine (traditional ways of peacemaking in West Africa), is a bit (or a lot) more obscure. On the other hand, this could be a blessing, as I have less to read! I think this is also why my interviews will be crucial, because that will be my primary source of information.

After the library, we caught a bus home. Yes, a bus! We've been using the bus system for the past few days, and it feels like quite an accomplishment! I think it has helped to feel more comfortable being here- as if it makes me more Senegalese. Although, ironically, I feel more like an outsider when I'm on the bus because it's jam-packed full of people, and I'm the only whitie, and I constantly worry about whether I'm breaking any social norms by standing too close to women, and men, and what they think if my arm or part of my body is touching theirs. I imagine it's ok, because there's no where else to go, but it still makes me self-conscious. It's probably my own comfort level, actually, that I'm feeling. I doubt they even give it a second thought. But for me, I've never been in such tight quarters, so I think I'm the one feeling uncomfortable with the personal space issue. Wow, that totally just got worked out, right here, for everyone to see! hah! See, this is why I like journaling- otherwise, I might never process this stuff.

When we got home, I think I took a nap- yes, I took a nap. I woke up when Sayda's nephew, Assane, came with dinner. Sayda couldn't come herself because she has a guest visiting from France. Assane usually comes with her anyway, so we've gotten to know him quite well. In fact, I would say we're good friends with him. He's come with us to the beach, to Goree, and to the markets. He's in a few photos from Goree, but I'll probably post more of him, as we have plans to do more activities together. Tomorrow night, for example, we're all going to the Sean Paul concert, which is conveniently just down the street from us! And, even better, it's only $9 for admission! You can google him if interested- he's popular in the U.S. I'm not a huge fan or anything, but I think it will be fun.

So Assane gave us our meals, and then he made us Ataya (the Senegalese tea). Then he proceeded to tell us all about his home town, Foundioune, and how wonderful it is and how much we'd love it there. We had talked about going this weekend, but it's a long trip (maybe 4 hours by car), and we decided that last weekend (to St. Louis) will hold us over for a few more weeks at least. It really does sound nice, though. It's near the Gambia, in the south of Senegal. I think it's also on or near the river there- which river, I'm not sure... perhaps the Senegal River? I'll confirm this later.

Later, after lunch today, Sayda and Assane are taking me and Yemi to the fabric market called, HLM. I want to buy some white fabric to make a bou-bou, and Yemi wants to buy some more fabric to make another dress. Did I tell you Sayda has a friend who's a tailor? Yes, he's already made a beautiful dress for Yemi, and I want him to make a bou-bou for me. I think total, including the cost of fabric, this should cost under $30. I may even have two made at that cost. But we'll see. It all depends on what kind of fabric they have and if I fall in love with it, although I have a sneaking suspicion I will.

Ok, I should probably go for now. I hope you're all well. Miss you, and look forward to being home in a month! I can't believe one month has already passed. Oy vey.. I really need to get down to work. Ok, bye for now.

a few more photos of St. Louis adventures

here are some photos of our lunch at St. Louis, which was under a large fabric tent. We had fish on kabobs, and a baked banana with some kind of sweet red syrup.

sometimes I'm blonde.. sorry Mom, Rachel, Marguerite..

ok, so my last post title mentioned "Links", and I meant to say that I posted some interesting links of websites for you to peruse at your leisure- they are on the right side of my blog, just about my profile information. I think if you click on them they should take you directly to the website- some of them have good information, and some of them have good pictures of Senegal. Enjoy!

I'm resolved, by the way, and enjoy the links

Just a quick note to say that I appreciate Vicki a lot more now. She's pretty damn funny, in fact. Here a couple of Vicki-isms:

At dinner the other night, she retold a story about how she said her grandson looked like a 'Ukrainian potato-picker' -- her daughter-in-law didn't like this too much, but we thought it was hysterical.

The other morning, when she was trying to figure out the hotel bill, she kept coming to us with news about how we were to handle this (it was complicated because we split two rooms, and there were uneven numbers of people in each), and she could tell that it was getting obnoxious, so the last time she came up, she said, "sorry to be Typhoid Mary, but I have one more stipulation.." -- we about died from laughter.

And another time, when we were at the Baobab Center eating lunch, she changed tables because the table we were sitting at was in the sun, and she wanted to be under the shade, and when she got up to leave, she said, "I'm gonna get under the shade... and, I don't like you." It's dry, but I gotta hand it to her, it's FUNNY!

I hope to get some more Vicki-isms...

And I think, despite the minor irritations, everything she says comes from the heart.

She's a spiritual woman, too, and I respect that. We had a wonderful conversation yesterday about spirituality and AA. Apparently she has many friends in AA, and she respects the program tremendously. She is involved in some kind of efforts to bring AA to Senegal and West Africa, but I don't know too much about it. I told her that I had looked for AA in Senegal, but that there was nothing available online. She said to talk to Gary, the director of Baobab Center, that he should know of something. In fact, one of her best friends who lived here for years (an American woman), was an alchoholic who had attended a few AA meetings in Dakar for Westerners, but that she wasn't ready to quit, and 2 months ago she died from liver cancer. I was humbled by this information, because this woman had done SO much for Senegal with her NGO (non-governmental organization) to help preserve indigenous culture and to promote education. It was humbling because she was an amazing woman who did so much; so much that she had a street named after her, but even that wasn't enough motivation to quit drinking. It makes me hate this disease. It also makes me that much more grateful for my own sobriety. I'm one of the lucky few, and I hope not to take that for granted, now or ever.

Weekend in St. Louis

So, sorry about last night. I was tired and cranky, but I could've easily kept that to myself. In any case, it's amazing what a good night of sleep can do! I feel sooooo much better today. And, to top it off, it's raining!!!! Scratch that- it's POURING!!! I guess this marks the beginning of the raining season. I don't know what that entails really, other than it could rain more for the remainder of the time I'm here. I hope so- it's a bit cooler now and windy. It's also exciting because it's like CRAZY rain- ferocious rain, even more so than summer rains in Minnesota, and I thought those were crazy.

Yesterday we spent 6 hours driving back from St. Louis. It should have only taken 4, but we hit traffic coming back into Dakar. Apparently many people living in Dakar take weekend trips outside the city, so Sunday night it is inevitable to hit major traffic. The tiny freeways don't help, but it looks like they are already working on expanding them, so that's good.

I had several mini heart-attacks once we hit traffic because I was sitting in the front of the bus, and our driver was NO BULLSHIT! He was Senegalese, but he spends half his time living in Paris. He owns a driving company, and we were connected to him by Doyen, our landlord. He drove us up on Friday morning and he stayed in St. Louis the whole weekend. We paid daily for his services, but it ended up being only slightly more expensive than a hired taxi would have cost, and it had several more perks, including safety, more space, reliability, etc.

But yes, he was Senegalese, so he knew how to maneuver the tiny crammed freeways, even at night. I had several heart-attacks because of these mini-buses called 'car rapides'- essentially these are what most people use for public transportation; they are like VW vans, like the one my parents used to have when I was a little fella. They are cheerfully painted with all sorts of reds, yellows, and oranges and most of them say on the front and back 'Alhamdulilaay' (thanks be to god). They are always packed with people, and all along the freeway they let people in/out, and people then walk across the freeway (if they're going that way) because there's no real designated zones to do this. So during traffic, it's outrageous, as you might imagine. I wanted to close my eyes, but it was all too exciting to watch! I guess on some level I've been desensitized to this, as riding in taxi cabs through downtown is equally as crazy. In both cases, I'm amazed that no one ever gets hurt, but the drivers do take extreme caution by using their horns endlessly- a little honk here (to let the driver to the front and side know that he's coming up next to him) and a little honk there (to let pedestrians know to move to the side). It's wild- absolutely wild. But somehow it works! Ah, there was one exception- last week on our way to the Baobab Center we saw a kid on the side of the street who had been hit- he was ok, but it looked like his leg(s) might have been broken/harmed. I bet this happened because the kids were playing as they were walking home and one of his friends pushed him toward the street, unintentionally of course, but just enough to put him in harm's way. I can only suspect, but that would make the most sense because I know the kids here are accustomed to the crazy traffic and I know they're pretty savvy about it.

Ok, so I better hurry up because my battery is dying! Damn that Scott! haha... little bastard. Ah well, shit happens.

So, St. Louis, it was great. It is a small beach town up the northern coast, just below the border of Mauritania. Fishing is huge there, and we took a tour of a fishing village. It was the most interesting thing I've seen here- piles and heaps of fish waiting to be gutted, smoked, and dried in the sun. The smell of fish was overwhelming, but I stomached it. I would never go back, but it was worth the visit. It was interesting to watch the women handle the fish- this is their main job, whereas the men are the ones who take the pirogues (like giant canoes) out to sea every morning. So many of the women were obese, and I wondered why- how is that possible? But then I remembered how much the Senegalese love their sugar, and how soft-drinks are hugely popular here (but no Diet sodas, yet). I don't think I talked about this yet, but sugar goes in ALL of their drinks- hot milk (which is delicious with sugar), coffee (at LEAST 4 cubes, which is WAY too much for most Americans, I suspect), tea, and locally made juices. I've heard that because of this, Senegal has the highest rate of diabetes in the world, but this may be rumor, I haven't cross-checked. You can, if you want.

Fishing is such a big business in St. Louis that the Chinese and Japanese actually paid for them to build export stations where they could stack the fish and make it easier to load onto ships (ships that would take the fish to China and Japan, of course).

After the fishing village, we toured the rest of the island (did I mention it was an island?). It was very much like Goree, in the sense that the Colonial presence at one time left an obvious mark on the architecture. I think St. Louis was the first capital of Senegal, actually, and people living in St. Louis attained high status with the French. In particular, there were women, called Signares, that were children of French men and Senegalese women, who became serious players in the economic and political life of St. Louis.

The island was calm, and much more relaxing than Dakar. It was a nice break, but I was happy to be home last night. I started to miss the hustle and bustle. Anyway, here's the link to Wikipedia on St. Louis, if you're curious to know more:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint-Louis,_Senegal

And here's the link to Dakar on Wikipedia:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dakar

Thought you might like these links!

end of weekend, and will write more later...

hey guys- I just got in from St. Louis, and I'm a bit tired and cranky. I want to blog, but I may need to spend some time chilling out first. I'm irritated because I loaned my one and only plug adapter to Scott, who I don't particularly like anyway, so that he could use his computer in St. Louis (he had forgotten his at home), and he ended up leaving it stuck in the hotel plug! So, now, 5 hours of driving later, I realize that I am without an adapter, which means that I can't use my computer for long before it runs out of batteries. I called him, and after he explained what had happened, he offered to give me his adapter, but he's leaving town tomorrow so it won't be until Thursday! What nerve!?

Anyway, I'm going to chill out now. Sorry- wasn't much of an entry, but will try to get on later when I have peace of mind.

fourth photo in last set.. ATTENTION

I forgot to mention the fourth photo in the last set- the one just before the slave monument there is a photo of the staircase wall, and if you look closely toward the upper-right corner, you can see graffiti. Find it, and you'll know why I posted this photo, and why this blog-addendum was necessary.

Goree photos 5

The first photo is of me and Michael standing in the passageway that was supposed to lead out to the ships. It feels weird to post this photo, but I'm going to. I guess part of me feels like it is exhibitionist or exploitative, but I also feel it's important for me to know that I was there, and for others to see it (the passageway). I'm not going to worry about it, though. It is what it is.

The second photo is of shackles and chains; self-explanatory.

The third photo is of the dual-staircase again, but from above.

The fourth photo is of the statue monument outside the museum. I don't know if you can see very well in the photo, but the main has broken free from the chains. I thought the light on his face was particularly beautiful at this moment.

Goree photos 4

These photos are exclusively Maison des Esclaves. The first picture is a view from the outside. The second is the first view as you enter the house- it's of a dual-staircase that leads up to a large space (probably used for business/living). Also in this photo, however, you can see in the center an open passageway that leads out to the ocean- supposedly this is where slaves would exit onto the ships that would take them to their final destinations, but this is debatable. Some scholars believe this is an impossible explanation for the open passageway, as there are too many rocks below to allow for a boat to get near enough. In general, it's debatable how many slaves actually went through this maison, but for me, I think it is the symbolism more than anything that is important. For me, it puts a name to a face, so to speak. The third, fourth, and fifth photos show how rooms/cells are divided up by Hommes (men), Femmes (women), Jeune Fils (young ones), and Enfants (babies, toddlers). You can also get a good sense of how small these spaces are.

Goree photos 3