I Wash My Mouton One Leg at a Time...

Sorry, couldn't help myself!

But really, it was sheep washing day at our house which involved bringing all the 12 or so sheep out from their tiny corridor, dunking them in a big tub, dousing them with dish soap and giving them the scrubbing of a lifetime. The sheep were not at all happy, but since the food for the Tabaski holiday coming up this November is all based around sacrificing and eating the sheep, I guess everyone tries to keep them as clean as possible.

Speaking of eating sheep, I was quite excited last night when dinner was served, because it was brought out on a huge flat platter instead of a big bowl, which meant something other than rice and fish was on the menu. The base was onions, there were fries and olives strewn about, and big chunks of meat on bones to top it all off. I was thinking, great, Bbq! I have been fortunate to eat lots of beef and sheep, because I think meat is quite expensive here versus fish.

Anyway, for our dinner, the meat itself was quite good, and there was a wide selection between the parts we were eating such as shoulder bones and ribs, and so forth. Slowly as the meat pile dwindled everyone began to rip apart the pieces to get to every last morsel of meat and somehow in the shuffle, the tongue found it's way over to my eating zone. I was really left with a dilemma, because one of the Baby Daddy's had already been nicely serving me meat, which I tried to eat but it was mostly grizzle so I slyly tucked it away into some onions, and now this stinking tongue was there, all fleshy but a tongue nonetheless. There was no way I was putting it in my mouth!

Luckily Fatou picked it up and started tearing off a chunk when Seynebou mumbled something in Wolof that I took to mean "That's the tongue" and Fatou looked at it and tossed it back in to the dish.

I really have started to eat how much I feel I need to eat, rather than eating more when the ladies say "Asslay, mange!" because seriously, these ladies know how to eat. Luckily I know how to say "Soulna" which means "J'ai bien mange" in polite Wolof which gets me off the hook from stuffing myself on a hot day.

The Best View of the Band is From the Dance Floor

I was actually quite erroneous in my assumption that there wouldn't be much of a night life here in St. Louis. Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday the girl Sara in the office sends us all a text to say where drinks would be that night. So while most Senegalese Muslims don't drink, I would say that most of the volunteers aren't Muslim... so all in all we've had a good time!

A highlight was Embuscade bar last friday where this amazing woman singer had everyone up on their feet dancing for about 3 hours. Then an Irish volunteer got up and joined them for a few songs because she's a graet singer and to add to it, her parents were visiting from Ireland. It was absolutely amazing!

Small bands pop up all over the place. One guitar and a drum, or a full 5 piece band... in my short time here I've seen quite a lot. Another highlight was a local guy who joined us for the cooking class last week. At about midnight he picked up the guitar and began singing about the state of the world in the most wonderful, soulful voice.

Anyhow, I am definitely looking forward to whatever else the St Louis music scene has to offer, because so far it's been pretty darn good!

Cab Ride to Nowhere

Last friday night we went out for the usual friday night drinks and since we typically go out after dinner, we found ourselves catching a cab at 10pm, well after dark.

Three times during the 3km ride to the "centre-ville" the cab broke down, and each time the cabbie got out to see if any men would come over and give him a push. After minimal effort from the pushers, the old car would inevitably choke its way back to life.

Finally we made it to the rond-point just before the Fedherbe bridge and the car broke down one last time. I was getting quite fed up as the cab stunk and it was taking forever to do a relatively short drive to the bar. Once again the cabbie smiled at us, said something in Wolof and got out to find a new crew. There were three guys hanging out close by and they reluctantly began pushing the cab. When we ran out of a track, they would pull us backwards and try again. After about 4 times back and forth I was totally fed up and told the girls we would just walk across the bridge, which is the best walk in St Louis anyway.

As I was getting out of the cab I said half jokingly to my friend Hannah, "so I guess we dont have to pay since we didn't even make it there hey?!" and in that moment it made perfect sense to my North American sensibilities that services not rendered = I didn't have to pay. Hannah, who has been working on a report related to violence against women says to me, "Yes we do. Its really important to him". I immediately felt ashamed. The fare was $1 for three people to ride 3 km and I didn't want to pay it because the cab had caused a minor hassle in my otherwise pretty relaxed life.

It was quite the moment for me because I discovered a part of myself that I had not really recongnised was there. A $1 cab fare was the bread and butter for this man and he really intended to get us there, it's just that fixing a car is likely quite expensive so he drives around hoping he can get enough fares in to pay for a bit of gas and food for his family.

When I paid Fatou (14 years) and Seynabou (18 years)1000CFA each last night for washing my laundry, I really appreciated the delight on both their faces.

In other news I saw the weather report En Francais tonight before dinner and it was showing how it is about 38C during the day and 25C at night here in St Louis. All at once it became clear to me why I walk around like a sweaty beast all day...

I Wash My Pant Legs One Leg at a Time

So as I mentioned there really are no appliances in the house so all the washing is done by hand. Being of the adventurous sort I thought I may give it a go today and wash all of my 10 items that I have been wearing over the last 10 or so days.

I got prepared by purchsing some wash soap, and reading up on how to best go about getting nice clean clothes. The two younger girls helped me get set up, and in short time realised I was going to take three days to wash my clothes. They took over and finished up for me after agreeing that they would be paid for their services (which is part of the agreement with PA so I was totally fine with that).

So I guess I should really say that I watch my pants being washed one leg at a time.

Otherwise the power went out last night which I had read happens quite frequently in Stl Louis. So far the power has gone out for about 5 minutes at most, but last night it was right before dinner and stayed out for over an hour.

The funny thing is that nothing changes when the power is out. Dinner is cooked over a propane element, so we ate at the normal time under the glow of a battery operated flood light. One girl said they were half way through dinner when the power went out so everyone just whippedo ut their cell phones and they ate under a blue glow.

Just a short one for today...

Excursion to the Desert!

I do have to admit that the first week of actual volunteering was a bit of a let down. I really felt like there wasn't a great need for so many of us to attend and help out at the Kindergarden that PA has been sponsoring, where my first placement has been. I requested that I start my teaching placement early but for whatever reason that is not possible. So, I have one more week of lazy half days, and then on to teaching, which I am really looking forward to.

There are however, many benefits to working through Projects Abroad, and one such example is that they are very well organised in the social aspect of things. Every other weekend there are excursions to various places around St Louis.

This past weekend we visited the Lampoul Desert, a small desert located between Dakar and St Louis and very close to the ocean. On the way to Lampoul, we stopped off in a Maur villiage (a villiage of Mauritanean immigrants) for tea. Their village has the unique characteristic of having low lying tents under which people eat and socialise. Even in the heat of the day it was nice and cool.

Tea here in Senegal is a very big deal. Tea is made after lunch and dinner, and for each go, is made three times: first tea is is usually very bitter and very sweet, then second tea is less so but with the addition of mint leaves, then third tea is rather nice because it is just the right balance of flavours (in my mind anyway!). Most households here do not have applicances in the kitchen. For cooking, people use a propane tank looking thing with an element on the top, and this is what we used to make afternoon tea in the Maur village. Tea is drank from shot glass sized glasses.

After that we were off to the beach for a picnic. While most beaches I have seen have been littered with garnage, the beach we were at went on for miles and there was hardly any garbage anywhere. We went for a dip and then hopped back in the trucks and rode for 1.5 hours all the way down the beach until we headed inland towards Lompoul.

Along parts of the drive we passed through many small towns where kids would come running along the road shouting and waving. It felt really special to see how excited the kids were to see a boat load of strangers pass by, and I noticed even some of the adults getting caught up in the excitement.

The highway took us to a sandy pathway where the campsite was. One of the girls happened to have some Paul Simon on her phone, so we immediately blared the music and sang along as we bounced along the sandy pathway towards the campsite. The camp itself was a gathering of tall tents that slept 4 people in beds, had wooden floors, and a real shower and flush toilet, very civilised indeed!

Last night we had camel rides and a big walk in the desert, and this morning we got up in time to see that sun rise. All in all it was a really nice respite from the noise and the clutter of St. Louis.

During the drive home tihs morning, I felt a little reluctance to re-enter the city limits because the garbage at times can be overwhelming. I just have to keep telling myself that this is what I am here for, to absorb another culture. Personally, I have taken to shaking the hands of random children on the street and exchanging a few words in the hopes that maybe next time they won't be so inclined to yell Toubab! at every foreigner they meet.

Tomorrow morning, back to work!

Ma Famille D'Acceuil

I was confronted by Fatou, the 14 year old girl who comes into my room quite often, about whether or not I knew her name. "Est-ce que tu sais mon nom?" She demanded. Luckily I knew it. It was Fatou and I told her so as though I knew everyone's name. In reality at that point I had a list of all the names of the people in my house, I just didn't know to whom they belonged.

Fatou had invaded my room with 3 other children, and so I thought I would make use of their time by having them walk me through all the names, and tell me also to whom each of the children belonged. Being a geek I wrote all them down and took to task making up for lost time by learning the names as best I could.

So here goes:

Mme Dieye is the head of the household. She is supposedly some sort of trader but I really can't fathom what exactly that means, especially since she told me she works in a restaurant and doesn't start till Monday. Mme Dieye is the 3rd wife of her husband Mr Medoune Niang who does something that makes him a lot of money, evidenced by his flashy car and demeanor. By my estimation there are up to 31 people who could be living in this house (and of course I am curious about Mr Niang's other households!). Otherwise in the short time I have been here it is hard to say if he even knows all the names either.

Mme Dieye has 8 kids that Fatou would admit to: Serigne, Fatou (14), Moustaffa, Awa Cheickh, Cheuh Oumar and Matabarra, Salimata and Abi. I had asked Fatou another day about how many kids Mme Dieye had, purely out of interest, and her response had been a guarded "beaucoup", which indicated to me that I had crossed a cultural line.
Serigne is married to Salimata and their children are Babacar, Mohammed, Aisha and Moussa, the 2nd fattest cutest baby in the house.

There is also Awa Cheickh with Mame Diewo, Awa, Sokhna Oumo, Mama Di and Bintou (Bintou is very sweet but evidently oppressed). I have no idea who the baby daddy is.

Anta, who has Mouna and I think her husband is a skinny creeper.

Khady who has Fatou Kinne (first cutest baby in the house), Mohammed and Babacar. So, not only are there repeats in the names BUT the names are also crazy hard to remember!

And of course there's Mme Dieye Sr. who I cannot tell a lie she is a little scary, but friendly.

Family has a fluid meaning, so who's kid is who's doesn't really matter, they all get loved and chastised equally as rigourously by everyone. The men seem to be here and not here and the main constants at the food bowl are the women and children.
Other volunteers have large families but seemingly not to this extent. There are also a few people who live with Catholics, where they usually eat a a table with knives and forks. About 5% of Senegal is of a Catholic (or Baptist, etc.) religion.

So, this weekend we are off for an excursion into the desert. I imagine my next post will happen on Sunday or thereabouts.

Happy Friday and thanks for reading!

Morning, Noon and Night...

I thought I would take a moment to describe the flow of a typical day here in St. Louis. While each household has it's own take on how things get done, our household feeds so many people at most meals the schedule is usually fairly predictable.

Morning, we have breakfast whenever we like. I have been eating at about 8, which is much later than everyone else who has to take care of their portion of the 12 kids! breakfast is always 1/3 white baguette, 1 morsel of cheese (La Vache Qui Rire type of cheese which suspiciously does not need to be refrigerated), 1 package of dried milk to mix in with Nescafe instant coffee. I supplement my diet with fruit from street vendors that I have to hide in my room. At times I have felt like a squirrel lately.

Most people then go to work. Lunch break begins at 12, but lunch is eaten at 2pm, when all the families gather together to eat, and most shops and schools close down until 3pm. Lunch is one of the dishes I described yesterday which is quite filling if it isn't too spicy. Today two boys came into the kitchen with take-out versions of the dishes, so I assumed one of the ladies makes money cooking for other households.

We often have leftovers from our meals. I noticed that the 14 year old girl who does all the dishes takes the bowls outside after we eat. Today I followed her out and saw that she gave the bowl to a few boys who I have seen begging, which made me feel a bit better to think that maybe the community actually takes care of these kids. Though I am sure I saw a boy sleeping in the middle of the football pitch last night, a scene which is familiar in the streets of St. Louis.

Dinner in Senegal is 9pm, which makes the weekly outings with PA quite late. The women in the house seem to always be hanging around and there are constant gatherings on the front steps and in the living room. There is no end to stories to be shared it seems.

When you meet someone on the street here, I have heard it said that it can take up to 5 minutes just to properly greet someone. There is great importance on making this connection with everyone you know that you come across, and to not do so would be considered rude. There is the usual As-Salaamu Alaikum (Peace be with you) greeting with the obligitory Walakum-us-Salam response (and peace be with you). There is of course the Wolof greeting, to which I know the response is Manga-fee Reek and of course en Francais c'est Ca va? et on repond Oui merci, Ca va (and then comes the Madame ou Madamoiselle question or the question of your name as a means to invite you to see whatever wares are being sold ;) ).

Otherwise, today's my anniversary. Can't believe I've been here 7 whole days!