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!
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