goats, sheep, and sunglasses

Dakar. I read before I had even come here that it is the Paris of Africa. Huh. I disagree.
I still really like it here, but I think I like it because it isn’t Paris.

On Animals:
Only yesterday did some of the girls in the group learn how to decipher between goats and sheep. In their defense, the sheep here aren’t wooly like the ones we’re familiar with. We learned to look for the long tails (sheep) and the short tails (goats). Also, after pointing out the ‘massive balls on that one”, did someone learn that nanny goats have 2 teats, not 4 like cows. Oh! Americans!

Many families in Dakar keep a goat or two on their rooftops, bringing food up and poop down regularly. Land is expensive so it seems to make financial sense. Feeding the goats cardboard (which they do) also makes financial sense, but I’m not sure I can support that one.

“But he likes cardboard! Look! Watch how quickly he eats it!” True story.

Goats and sheep roam freely in the streets, often in herds that block traffic. I haven’t seen any branding so I’m not sure how families know whose goats and whose, but it seems to work out finely. I had expected to see a lot more chickens, based off of my experiences in Mexico and Latin America, but they are few here. They don’t have much to forage, I suppose, considering the ground here is only sand (no bugs), and chickens won’t eat cardboard…. Maybe they’re just too expensive to feed.

Fun observations this week:
-Rickshaw horses eating their grain and hay from a Senegalese trough: a defunct and fallen refrigerator with the doors ripped off.
-7-8 year old girls carrying 1-2 year olds on their backs. The younger babies carry teddy bears on their backs for practice.
- Small children here are afraid of cats! It’s understandable because they are all feral here, like rats in the u.s.. Plus, those howling noises they make at night would frighten anyone. When a stray gets in the house (often, because the house is open-air), they all scream and cry. Even better, the word for cat in Wolof is moose, so they start screaming and pointing at the ‘moose-mi”.
- The Senegalese have interesting believes regarding health. For example, Adult Diabetes is a huge problem here. I’m guessing this is, in part, a result of the massive amounts of sugar and white grain-food they. 4 sugar cubes in a small cup of coffee with a half baguette with chocolate is a standard breakfast. For lunch, more baguette with some sort of protein with more sugar-coffee and some sugar cookies and a soda or a juice, then some white rice with some fish or veggies and some juice or soda for dessert. They eat ungodly amounts of sugar here. When I mentioned the correlation between sugar and adult diabetes, they thought I was crazy and told me that diabetes comes ONLY from not exercising enough. Sugar intake has ‘nothing to do with it.”

Also, if you are caught without your flip-flops on in the house you will get firm scolding, because everyone knows colds come from your feet toughing cold tile. (Actually, I think gramma used to tell me that one, too)

None of the students have been able to figure out why the Senegalese are obsessed with the t.v. They watch it at all hours, during any free time, full volume. Somehow, I caught a moment when no one was in the living room and the t.v. was off, so I installed myself in the recliner to do some computer work while listening to some soft music on my laptop. My host mom saw me, sitting alone, came to turn on the t.v. (volume all the way up, of course), only to turn around and walk out of the room. She was being polite, in a Senegalese way. However, I was annoyed and got up to turn it off. So it goes.

-Terranga. This is Wolof for hospitality, and the Senegalese are very proud of this aspect of their culture. The hospitality is so strong here that if you are lost and ask directions, the person you are asking will likely drop everything they are doing to take you to your desired location. It manifests itself again in the tradition of giving items to people if they fancy them. If you say, “Oh, your sunglasses are very cute” to a Senegalese, you are likely to walk away wearing them. However, it sucks when it happens the other way. I’ve learned that the polite way of getting out of this ‘gifting’ obligation is to respond with, “I will name them after you.”

… And thus, my sunglasses will forever be named Abdul Muhammad NDiaye.


We succeeded in getting our visas to Mali, all 6 of us. Not sure yet on how to get there as we have several options ranging from $80- 400 dollars. We’re first headed to Bamako, the capital of Mali. Stay there a few days and hire a guide to bring us to Dogon Country/Territory. Spend 5-7 days hiking around the Dogon cliffs, villages, and ceremonial sites and then head back the way we came. I’m so excited!

Nutella Nights

I've developed the nasty habit of sneaking out after dinner for baguette and nutella with the ladies. It's more difficult than it sounds. First, one musn't insult the host family by letting them know you are leaving for more food. Second, one musn't insult the public by eating in public. Also, if the beggers see you eating anything, they request their share (which would be fine, but they are countless!). We sneak nutella and baguette in the shadows of the cyber cafe. But there are scary things in the shadows as well... Check each other for the chocolate evidence on faces before returning home. It might as well be cocaine, really.

This morning I took the car rapide to the library to begin my thesis paper. I sat next to an older man wearing a full white robe, Sufi style, prayer beads in right hand, cell phone in the other. Interesting how the two worlds collide here.

My birthday went off swell. Good friends bought me milkshakes and pizza to soothe any homesickness. The sunshine on February 9th in Senegal is better than the sunshine in Ohio or Oregon, I believe.
I'm glad to be an American here and now. We are often approached by people (usually men) asking if we are on vacation.
No, students at Suffolk, we reply.
You're French? He asks, eyebrows furrowed.
No, American, we say in unison.
AHHHHHH!!!!! AMERICAN!!!! OBAMA! YES WE CAN!!! I LOVE OBAMA!

Oh, thank god, I think. So glad not to be French. Better to have just elected a black man to presidency than to be the snobby former colonizer. Even I can tell the French from other nationalities because the French refuse to say bonjour. Even Italians say good morning!

Tomorrow I go to the travel agency to find some cheap airfare to neighboring countries. Wish me luck!

Du thé senegalaise

First, you run across the street to your nearest boutique/buvette (couldn't be more than 100 yards away) and buy a small box of chinese gunpowder tea. Use half the box with 8 oz of vanilla sugar manufactured just for this purpose. Light the propane stove and wait for the water to boil while you watch Mexican soap operas dubbed in French. 20 minutes later, you will be drinking 2 ounces of the sweetest, darkest, strangest 'tea' you've ever had. It's hot green sugar water, and it's yummy. That is Senegalaise tea. My 18 year old host brother, Petit Papa (I don't understand this name), drinks it 4, 5 times a day, each preparation a ceremony.

Yesterday I walked to the beach closest to my house. North through Ouakam, I passed some of the largest houses I've seen in Senegal, huge mansions by any standard. Spanish tile, walled-in yards and courtyards, perfectly manicured grass and bouganvilla... but the streets right outside the fences are gravel, littered with dead cats and dogs, even saw a goat hoof. Directly adjecent to a 15 bedroom home, we saw a hut made out of tarps and cardboard where a gentlemen sells Nescafe for his income. No zoning, no code...

On my way home around 7:30, I heard a screaming noise that reminded me of a bird. I couldn't figure out what it was. Soon, a baby goat ran in front of me, crying for its mother. It was no more than a foot tall, bright white. Scared, running around the streets in all directions and screaming. No one else paid it any mind. I wanted to to catch it, but it was afraid of me. A Senegalaise woman laughed and me and then told me not to touch it. I'm not sure about their urban farming standards....

One of the girls today said she saw someone killing a horse in their backyard. Cut its head right off.
Even our professor was surprised by her story, "Horses are very respected here. It must have been sick."
"Wow," she said, surprised.
But wow means "yes" in Wolof, so our professor didn't notice that she was shocked.