My other weekends and weekdays were pretty uneventful. At this point, I am several days out from my departure and I’m just really excited to be home. My experience in Senegal has been challenging but it has been a good experience over all. I’ve come to understand a new religion and a new lifestyle. My host family is challenging and it’s interesting because every time I get upset that something goes wrong with my family I just remember what my Dad said, since the farm hosted students when he was younger, that every family functions like a family. No family is perfect and communication isn’t always going to be easy. They also aren’t going to go out of their way to change their life, you are adapting to their lifestyle not the other way around. I think it’s important to remember this.
I have also realized from this situation how lucky I am to be from the U.S. Women here are in an extremely fragile situation where they are attempting to gain their independence in some ways but they must also continue to satisfy some traditions. I have had men grab my ass and think it was perfectly fine. For instance, one day I stepped off the bus and some old man pretending to be blind just randomly caught a free feel. No blind man can aim as well as he did. I’m so proud of my host mom because, although I feel she won’t give me an inch, she works 5 and a half days a week. She is always tired and sometimes I have to remind myself that she’s impatient and tough on me because she’s tired herself.
I have also had many discussions with my housekeeper. In some ways I have built my strongest connection with her because she’s the one who told me her real story. Her family lives in St. Louis which is about 4 hours north. She’s in Dakar working for my family but at the cost of leaving her little girl behind with her family. She returns for the wet season to help her family but I can tell she really misses her child and her family. She also says her biggest regret is giving up her studies. It’s hard realizing that she had everything going for her and now she spends her days all alone in our house cleaning and cooking. She never told me why she couldn’t finish her studies but I know she’s frustrated with her situation. Although I try to be a cultural relativist towards treatment on women here, my host father is incredibly rude to her and my host mom is even more impatient with Ami than she is with me. I feel bad because there seems to be nothing pleasant in her day. Last Friday I cooked for my family and we had a lot of fun cooking together. I was glad we had a fun activity together. I know it’s just the cycle of life and there are always going to be women like Ami, but it’s still hard to know that she gave up her studies to marry then divorce and have to leave her child behind while she’s gone half the year. I take solace in the fact that she has a bed and good food with my host family and she certainly could be in worse conditions. There is always something worse.
Being in Senegal has changed me I’m sure but I don’t know in what ways yet. I’m definitely more patient here although that may back fire once I return when I expect everything to function perfectly haha. I also appreciate my life back home much more. As my dad said, he could rub holes in Lola’s floorboards to make me feel at home, but I feel more at home where watching the road means through an uncracked windshield rather than through the man-eating holes in floorboards. I’m excited to live in DC this summer and be able to compare a U.S. city to Dakar because for me one of the most difficult adjustments was just living in a city. There are so many people and so many cars it was just chaotic.
I also realized I will never participate in Peace Corp. It was a sad and disappointing realization for me, but I also found alternative volunteer opportunities where I will be better protected. Had I never come to Senegal, I could have been in over my head going off for two years to another place. First off, I got my own fair taste of the village that weekend in Toubacouta and there is nothing to romanticize about it. It’s dirty, filthy, unhealthy, and hotter than you could ever imagine. One student who was here for his second time finishing up grad school work said his first visit he was in a village. He said they lived on couscous (not like Moroccan couscous this stuff is literally like eating sand) and leaves. When the kids caught a huge rat they ate it. He lost 35lbs. I also did my research. I feel safe in Dakar most days but that doesn’t mean I haven’t had some scary moments. Luckily here, if something WERE to happen, there is a great staff here to help me. My research about the Peace Corp leads me to believe that they will leave women in any situation until it results in violent and life changing events such as rape even as far as murder. I’m not willing to participate in something as corrupt as that. As much as I want to witness the world and help make it a better place, I would never do so at the cost of my own life.
When I was preparing to leave I had all these ideas of what Senegal would be like. What is an African nation like? I found out the easy way and in a healthy environment. I couldn’t have asked for a better experience. It had its ups and downs. I ended up in tears a few times, I have been angry, but I have also had fun and learned more than any classroom could ever teach. I suppose that’s the sappy stuff. I just can’t wait to be home! Four months was long enough for me haha!
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
My time since spring break! A long overdue post!
So since my mom has been nagging me to update my blog, I decided now is a good time. I finally finished all my academic obligations here in Dakar so sorry about the hiatus for a while there but I had lots to do and I had to finish my spring break blog first.
I’ll start with the first weekend of April. Every first Saturday of the month there is a party at this club called Koul Groul along the Corniche Est. It was Chandanie’s 21st birthday so in celebration a group of us went to dinner at the Institut Francais. It was really great food even though it’s a little pricey there. And by that I mean it’s $8 a plate. Wow it’ll suck going back to U.S. prices. Anyways so that’s how our night started. Then we moved on to do a quick liquor run down the street and then off to the party!
We got to the place around midnight and there were people there but there wasn’t much going on. It’s really nice because it’s right on the water. I had Imani sneak my whiskey in for me but unfortunately they checked Keutura and Chandanie’s bags. Lame. I didn’t drink much anyways but it’s cheaper to order soda than anything alcoholic so I ordered soda to mix with my whiskey.
Nothing much to tell about the rest of the night. We all danced and had a good time. Ali got his coat stolen which sucks but at least his wallet wasn’t in it. There was also a creepy dude who kept trying to rub up on me even when I physically shoved him away from me. He thought it was hilarious. Just disturbing what men think they can get away with here. I also met some crazy little drunk dude who used to play drums in Vermont. Now you might be thinking yea he’s just saying that. But we have one interstate and he named it so I give him credit. He was a weird dude but he was nice enough. Everyone was there that night even some of the IHP group which was a group of students here for a 5 week stay.
Speaking of the IHP group, I suppose I should mention Brandy mainly because she made the biggest impression on me out of that entire IHP group. The story of Brandy is she randomly talked to me waiting for the WARC bathrooms one day. She seemed nice and she is but she’s also crazy. So I see her at MyShop like a week later. Turns out she’s getting involved with her host brother. First question? Are you serious? Second, why are you telling me this? This is totally against all host family etiquette and I’m not sure I really want to know lol. So, we go on spring break and we’re back here. I see her randomly again but this time I’m with a group of girls from my program. She continues anyways to tell us the intimate details of how she is creating a family feud because she decided to get involved with the cousin of her host brother. So now the host brother is upset. Then she said she just up and is living with the cousin. Something has to be wrong with her. Anyways I figure that’s a fun little character anecdote.
My second weekend in April was the birthday of a Marabout (Islamic leader here in Senegal) and there is this big pilgrimage to Ouakam to see him speak. So preparation for this included a white dress. I bought the fabric and had it made. That was kind of a mess because I ended up having to buy more fabric than I had planned. My host Mom also didn’t tell me when they bought the fabric so I was asking the tailor on Wednesday for something I needed Friday night. Kind of a douchy move. Oh well.
So to continue with the awkward events, I told Jess I would show up at her house in the morning because they said the festival began in the morning. Nope. And even worse is I showed up in my white dress. Why are you wearing that? Didn’t you mom tell you that’s for this afternoon? Nope here it is 9:30 AM and I look like the dumbass. Oh and why did I go over alone? My host mom said she had to work. Okay so why are you at your sister’s house about an hour after me? Liar. I don’t know why she didn’t want to go over with me but this was beginning to get annoying because despite my attempts to participate in this festival she has cockblocked me the entire way. I didn’t appreciate it.
So I got there and Jess lent me some clothing so I didn’t look like the family joke for the day. We rested a while because there really wasn’t anything going on in the morning. They were preparing to cook. Then Abbey came to Ouakam and we met up with her. We walked to the monument…and then to the top of the monument because Mohammed doesn’t understand the word deeedeet (no in English). It was fun though and then we got an amazing lunch with the nice dark rice, real good cuts of meat, and more veggies I’ve seen in one place since I left the U.S. There was even corn! My favorite!
After lunch we rested. A much needed food digestion nap. The all of a sudden the ladies break into our room freaking out that we aren’t ready yet! So we get dressed and are taking some pictures. And while we are done getting dressed, there are still women running around in towels and getting dressed. WTF ladies?! We weren’t the ones you needed to panic about. So we take pictures and fun stuff. Then finally we’re off to the area they’ve outfitted for all the people coming to visit. It was an outdoor area covered and temporarily carpeted with tons of plastic chairs. Senegalese furniture in other words.
So we took our seats around 5pm maybe even a little earlier. Abbey, Jess, and I were taking some photos. It was really funny there was one lady convinced we were taking photos of her. If looks could kill me we’d be mince meat. She looked so pissed but really I was just trying to get pictures of the area. She was just being self centered to think I was taking photos of her lol jk mostly. So then some photographer dude comes around. I didn’t really know why he was taking our pictures. Jess said no to the pictures. I’ll tell you more about the photographer later though because he was just a big scheming douche bag scam artist. Anyways…so pictures were taken, men were singing Muslim chant type stuff on speakers turned up way too loud, women were filing in. So finally the place fills up. That took about half an hour or more. So there’s a lot more singing and stuff. Important men dressed in nice get-up file in to the couches at the front. Basically a living room but outside. Because it never rains here. This is like 2 hours and a prayer session already. Finally, it looks like the big man on campus has rolled in! Here’s the marabout!
Lots more singing ensues and there are even television stations there. Now I always saw sessions like this on TV and wondered what the heck this was and why were men sitting on couches discussing like Oprah. This was that but in real life. So finally the marabout starts talking and let’s just remember here that it’s all in Wolof folks. Then there’s more praying which we thought might be us leaving because they stacked all the chairs up. No they just needed room to kneel down. This all continues for 4 hours. Yep count them 4 hours! It was a test of patience like no other and of course I understood none of what was said. But I got to look pretty in my white dress and it was interesting to see their religious fete. Sometimes I forget that it’s important to learn about Muslim culture while I’m in it because when I return to the US it’s just going to be one big Bin Laden fest. It’s really not like that and interestingly enough people here are glad he’s dead too because he was giving such a bad image to the religion. There are a lot of opinions. That’s for another time though.
So back to the photographer because this is where he comes in. So later after he developed the photos he tried to get us to buy them. No you didn’t tell me I had to buy them and I have my own goddamn camera jerk. So no we didn’t want to buy them, especially Jess because she straight up said no to start with. Then Jess’s family tried to convince us that she would buy them and we could pay her back since none of us had money. No we don’t want the photos. So that went on and we were leaving the festival. That was a mess in itself. People were shoving you out you literally had no control and people were stepping on you and it was just a fire hazard if I ever saw one and it’s a shock no one got stampeded. We finally made it all out and found each other. We get back to the house and are waiting around. We ate round one of dinner. Then the photographer shows up. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This is rude first of all just to come into someone’s house. So now Jess and I get yelled at by our host Mom’s to buy these photos because this man is poor yada yada yada. Hellllll no! He’s not poor I just saw how many photos he took and sold we were the only photos he had left practically! Really were you losing out that much or did you just want to harass the white girls? So we had to buy them. End of story. I was already cranky and tired because my host mom was mean that morning. It only got worse. We had dinner round two which was really awesome chicken and salad. Then, I wanted to leave with my host mom. I kept trying to figure out when she was leaving and I told her I wanted to leave with her. So what does she do? She ducks out the door with some boy carrying her extra shit and I have to run out to follow her. Thanks for making me feel included. It was just not worth the trouble it seemed like but it was an experience for better or for worse.
This past weekend (my last weekend in Dakar) was a lot of fun as well. Saturday night a group of us girls decided to go out with the two Nigerian boys I met at IFEE, Henry and Charles. Funn thing Charles will actually be in Vermont for a week this summer because his brother is married to an American woman there. It’s a small world sometimes! So we wanted to go to Just 4 U because it has such a good reputation for live music but it was closed due to construction. So we went to Jardin Thailandaise instead. Wicked expensive but the food was okay. It was funny because the guys were asking all the tough questions about interracial marriage and how we see Senegal. They had some harsh criticism for Senegal and being from another African nation it was really interesting to hear what they thought. Then after dinner we went to the Morocaine, a Moroccan restaurant. Some folks did huka and we had a few beers. It was nothing complicated or over the top. It was just a perfectly relaxed night. Then I spent the night at my friend Zoey’s in Baobab. I almost got lost walking home the next day but it seemed like a nice neighborhood. It was a good weekend and it was good clean fun. Sunday was supposed to be pancake day because my mom sent me pancake mix but that fell through. That’s for Thursday now. Sunday I just finished my 10 page paper and took a nice long bucket shower and even washed my hair! I can’t wait for a real shower again.
Tuesday was a market day and that was interesting. We went to Marche Collobaine (spelling?) which is way up by HLM. So first you take a car rapide downtown then another car rapide back uptown towards HLM. That was a little confusing but the market was an interesting one that’s for sure! We were just browsing around and Alison found a table of glasses, she thought they’d be cute for a fashion statement, turns out it’s a table of random prescription glasses this dude collected. God only knows how he collected all those. So she was looking through the pile and Imani and Marshall see a professor there they know. Imani decided to take a picture of Alison because he’s always got his camera ready. The vendor sees this and like freaks out. He starts shouting and there are a bunch of other dudes just yelling randomly telling us to get out. The professor tries to talk to them and settle the situation. While the men are all huddling and shouting and gesturing, the vendor starts looking for a weapon! He finds a huge vendor’s umbrella and pole and picks it up. All of a sudden he starts walking towards Imani and a big group of men start to hold him back. It was INSANE! I don’t think the vendor was all there…I think he had a mild mental disability but Imani disagreed. Either way the whole situation was just bizarre and this guy got so upset over one photo. It is difficult to take photos here because no one wants you to take photos of them but this was just over the top. So we continued our shopping adventures.
We continue shopping and eventually we get to this street and on either side of the street is a tunnel of vendors and I do mean tunnels. They are covered and lit with creepy blue lighting. Now why are these vendors only on the side of the street? Well that’s because the middle of the street is flooded with sewer water. Yeeaaaa just what I want to take a swim in! It smelt awful and the water was this terrifying green color. Just nasty. We all found what we wanted except Imani wanted a backpack but the vendor was a jerk. Sad story He really wanted a backpack.
So we catch our car rapide back downtown and another back up towards Fann Residence. On the way home we hit a really nasty traffic mess. There is a road with a large median and a busy road that crosses this one. So we were stopped for like 10 minutes. Finally our car rapide decides to take off right in front of a HUGE construction truck. Awesome! Even worse? We stall out. You know how long it takes to get a car rapide back up and running? Yea like 8 tries. Meanwhile there is a bus, a large construction vehicle, cars, and motorcycles all trying to dodge around in this mess. It was not fun and really concerning. So finally after making it out of that mess barely, we get up by the University. As we’re passing, we see a police squad in all their riot get up: masks, armour, and giant pellet guns. There were students flowing out of the area but you could see some students standing their ground in the dorm buildings as they faced off with the police force. Insanity I tell you. I get home that night and ask my host mom about it because she works there. She tells me this happens all the time because there are so many money problems. Students are paying the school or the students aren’t getting their scholarship money. Either way someone is always upset. I can’t even imagine being on that campus. Then we ended with a lunch trip to MyShop for two for Tuesdays, buy one get one free pizza! Heck yes!
I think that’s all my crazy stories for now. It’s been almost a month since I wrote so I’m sure there are more but don’t worry I’ll be home soon to tell them all!
I’ll start with the first weekend of April. Every first Saturday of the month there is a party at this club called Koul Groul along the Corniche Est. It was Chandanie’s 21st birthday so in celebration a group of us went to dinner at the Institut Francais. It was really great food even though it’s a little pricey there. And by that I mean it’s $8 a plate. Wow it’ll suck going back to U.S. prices. Anyways so that’s how our night started. Then we moved on to do a quick liquor run down the street and then off to the party!
We got to the place around midnight and there were people there but there wasn’t much going on. It’s really nice because it’s right on the water. I had Imani sneak my whiskey in for me but unfortunately they checked Keutura and Chandanie’s bags. Lame. I didn’t drink much anyways but it’s cheaper to order soda than anything alcoholic so I ordered soda to mix with my whiskey.
Nothing much to tell about the rest of the night. We all danced and had a good time. Ali got his coat stolen which sucks but at least his wallet wasn’t in it. There was also a creepy dude who kept trying to rub up on me even when I physically shoved him away from me. He thought it was hilarious. Just disturbing what men think they can get away with here. I also met some crazy little drunk dude who used to play drums in Vermont. Now you might be thinking yea he’s just saying that. But we have one interstate and he named it so I give him credit. He was a weird dude but he was nice enough. Everyone was there that night even some of the IHP group which was a group of students here for a 5 week stay.
Speaking of the IHP group, I suppose I should mention Brandy mainly because she made the biggest impression on me out of that entire IHP group. The story of Brandy is she randomly talked to me waiting for the WARC bathrooms one day. She seemed nice and she is but she’s also crazy. So I see her at MyShop like a week later. Turns out she’s getting involved with her host brother. First question? Are you serious? Second, why are you telling me this? This is totally against all host family etiquette and I’m not sure I really want to know lol. So, we go on spring break and we’re back here. I see her randomly again but this time I’m with a group of girls from my program. She continues anyways to tell us the intimate details of how she is creating a family feud because she decided to get involved with the cousin of her host brother. So now the host brother is upset. Then she said she just up and is living with the cousin. Something has to be wrong with her. Anyways I figure that’s a fun little character anecdote.
My second weekend in April was the birthday of a Marabout (Islamic leader here in Senegal) and there is this big pilgrimage to Ouakam to see him speak. So preparation for this included a white dress. I bought the fabric and had it made. That was kind of a mess because I ended up having to buy more fabric than I had planned. My host Mom also didn’t tell me when they bought the fabric so I was asking the tailor on Wednesday for something I needed Friday night. Kind of a douchy move. Oh well.
So to continue with the awkward events, I told Jess I would show up at her house in the morning because they said the festival began in the morning. Nope. And even worse is I showed up in my white dress. Why are you wearing that? Didn’t you mom tell you that’s for this afternoon? Nope here it is 9:30 AM and I look like the dumbass. Oh and why did I go over alone? My host mom said she had to work. Okay so why are you at your sister’s house about an hour after me? Liar. I don’t know why she didn’t want to go over with me but this was beginning to get annoying because despite my attempts to participate in this festival she has cockblocked me the entire way. I didn’t appreciate it.
So I got there and Jess lent me some clothing so I didn’t look like the family joke for the day. We rested a while because there really wasn’t anything going on in the morning. They were preparing to cook. Then Abbey came to Ouakam and we met up with her. We walked to the monument…and then to the top of the monument because Mohammed doesn’t understand the word deeedeet (no in English). It was fun though and then we got an amazing lunch with the nice dark rice, real good cuts of meat, and more veggies I’ve seen in one place since I left the U.S. There was even corn! My favorite!
After lunch we rested. A much needed food digestion nap. The all of a sudden the ladies break into our room freaking out that we aren’t ready yet! So we get dressed and are taking some pictures. And while we are done getting dressed, there are still women running around in towels and getting dressed. WTF ladies?! We weren’t the ones you needed to panic about. So we take pictures and fun stuff. Then finally we’re off to the area they’ve outfitted for all the people coming to visit. It was an outdoor area covered and temporarily carpeted with tons of plastic chairs. Senegalese furniture in other words.
So we took our seats around 5pm maybe even a little earlier. Abbey, Jess, and I were taking some photos. It was really funny there was one lady convinced we were taking photos of her. If looks could kill me we’d be mince meat. She looked so pissed but really I was just trying to get pictures of the area. She was just being self centered to think I was taking photos of her lol jk mostly. So then some photographer dude comes around. I didn’t really know why he was taking our pictures. Jess said no to the pictures. I’ll tell you more about the photographer later though because he was just a big scheming douche bag scam artist. Anyways…so pictures were taken, men were singing Muslim chant type stuff on speakers turned up way too loud, women were filing in. So finally the place fills up. That took about half an hour or more. So there’s a lot more singing and stuff. Important men dressed in nice get-up file in to the couches at the front. Basically a living room but outside. Because it never rains here. This is like 2 hours and a prayer session already. Finally, it looks like the big man on campus has rolled in! Here’s the marabout!
Lots more singing ensues and there are even television stations there. Now I always saw sessions like this on TV and wondered what the heck this was and why were men sitting on couches discussing like Oprah. This was that but in real life. So finally the marabout starts talking and let’s just remember here that it’s all in Wolof folks. Then there’s more praying which we thought might be us leaving because they stacked all the chairs up. No they just needed room to kneel down. This all continues for 4 hours. Yep count them 4 hours! It was a test of patience like no other and of course I understood none of what was said. But I got to look pretty in my white dress and it was interesting to see their religious fete. Sometimes I forget that it’s important to learn about Muslim culture while I’m in it because when I return to the US it’s just going to be one big Bin Laden fest. It’s really not like that and interestingly enough people here are glad he’s dead too because he was giving such a bad image to the religion. There are a lot of opinions. That’s for another time though.
So back to the photographer because this is where he comes in. So later after he developed the photos he tried to get us to buy them. No you didn’t tell me I had to buy them and I have my own goddamn camera jerk. So no we didn’t want to buy them, especially Jess because she straight up said no to start with. Then Jess’s family tried to convince us that she would buy them and we could pay her back since none of us had money. No we don’t want the photos. So that went on and we were leaving the festival. That was a mess in itself. People were shoving you out you literally had no control and people were stepping on you and it was just a fire hazard if I ever saw one and it’s a shock no one got stampeded. We finally made it all out and found each other. We get back to the house and are waiting around. We ate round one of dinner. Then the photographer shows up. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This is rude first of all just to come into someone’s house. So now Jess and I get yelled at by our host Mom’s to buy these photos because this man is poor yada yada yada. Hellllll no! He’s not poor I just saw how many photos he took and sold we were the only photos he had left practically! Really were you losing out that much or did you just want to harass the white girls? So we had to buy them. End of story. I was already cranky and tired because my host mom was mean that morning. It only got worse. We had dinner round two which was really awesome chicken and salad. Then, I wanted to leave with my host mom. I kept trying to figure out when she was leaving and I told her I wanted to leave with her. So what does she do? She ducks out the door with some boy carrying her extra shit and I have to run out to follow her. Thanks for making me feel included. It was just not worth the trouble it seemed like but it was an experience for better or for worse.
This past weekend (my last weekend in Dakar) was a lot of fun as well. Saturday night a group of us girls decided to go out with the two Nigerian boys I met at IFEE, Henry and Charles. Funn thing Charles will actually be in Vermont for a week this summer because his brother is married to an American woman there. It’s a small world sometimes! So we wanted to go to Just 4 U because it has such a good reputation for live music but it was closed due to construction. So we went to Jardin Thailandaise instead. Wicked expensive but the food was okay. It was funny because the guys were asking all the tough questions about interracial marriage and how we see Senegal. They had some harsh criticism for Senegal and being from another African nation it was really interesting to hear what they thought. Then after dinner we went to the Morocaine, a Moroccan restaurant. Some folks did huka and we had a few beers. It was nothing complicated or over the top. It was just a perfectly relaxed night. Then I spent the night at my friend Zoey’s in Baobab. I almost got lost walking home the next day but it seemed like a nice neighborhood. It was a good weekend and it was good clean fun. Sunday was supposed to be pancake day because my mom sent me pancake mix but that fell through. That’s for Thursday now. Sunday I just finished my 10 page paper and took a nice long bucket shower and even washed my hair! I can’t wait for a real shower again.
Tuesday was a market day and that was interesting. We went to Marche Collobaine (spelling?) which is way up by HLM. So first you take a car rapide downtown then another car rapide back uptown towards HLM. That was a little confusing but the market was an interesting one that’s for sure! We were just browsing around and Alison found a table of glasses, she thought they’d be cute for a fashion statement, turns out it’s a table of random prescription glasses this dude collected. God only knows how he collected all those. So she was looking through the pile and Imani and Marshall see a professor there they know. Imani decided to take a picture of Alison because he’s always got his camera ready. The vendor sees this and like freaks out. He starts shouting and there are a bunch of other dudes just yelling randomly telling us to get out. The professor tries to talk to them and settle the situation. While the men are all huddling and shouting and gesturing, the vendor starts looking for a weapon! He finds a huge vendor’s umbrella and pole and picks it up. All of a sudden he starts walking towards Imani and a big group of men start to hold him back. It was INSANE! I don’t think the vendor was all there…I think he had a mild mental disability but Imani disagreed. Either way the whole situation was just bizarre and this guy got so upset over one photo. It is difficult to take photos here because no one wants you to take photos of them but this was just over the top. So we continued our shopping adventures.
We continue shopping and eventually we get to this street and on either side of the street is a tunnel of vendors and I do mean tunnels. They are covered and lit with creepy blue lighting. Now why are these vendors only on the side of the street? Well that’s because the middle of the street is flooded with sewer water. Yeeaaaa just what I want to take a swim in! It smelt awful and the water was this terrifying green color. Just nasty. We all found what we wanted except Imani wanted a backpack but the vendor was a jerk. Sad story He really wanted a backpack.
So we catch our car rapide back downtown and another back up towards Fann Residence. On the way home we hit a really nasty traffic mess. There is a road with a large median and a busy road that crosses this one. So we were stopped for like 10 minutes. Finally our car rapide decides to take off right in front of a HUGE construction truck. Awesome! Even worse? We stall out. You know how long it takes to get a car rapide back up and running? Yea like 8 tries. Meanwhile there is a bus, a large construction vehicle, cars, and motorcycles all trying to dodge around in this mess. It was not fun and really concerning. So finally after making it out of that mess barely, we get up by the University. As we’re passing, we see a police squad in all their riot get up: masks, armour, and giant pellet guns. There were students flowing out of the area but you could see some students standing their ground in the dorm buildings as they faced off with the police force. Insanity I tell you. I get home that night and ask my host mom about it because she works there. She tells me this happens all the time because there are so many money problems. Students are paying the school or the students aren’t getting their scholarship money. Either way someone is always upset. I can’t even imagine being on that campus. Then we ended with a lunch trip to MyShop for two for Tuesdays, buy one get one free pizza! Heck yes!
I think that’s all my crazy stories for now. It’s been almost a month since I wrote so I’m sure there are more but don’t worry I’ll be home soon to tell them all!
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Spring Break Part Trois - LAST PART! YAY!
Thursday – Alice and I had every intention of leaving early on Thursday morning to get to the ferry, but the Gambian family Ioana introduced us to told us they would drive us to the ferry because the mom works at the ferry. Seemed convenient and we knew it’d be a little later than we wanted but it was cheaper than paying a taxi. So first of all, the mom said she’d be there between 7:30 and 8am which really meant 8:15. Then we had to stop at her office. Then we’d go to the ferry. So, we awkwardly waited in the office IT department and used the internet to check our email with some dudes and a few ladies. The advantage to having the Gambian mom bring us was she bought us our tickets and she let us sit in the VIP room to wait for the ferry. Yep, VIP room. It was kind of awkward because we weren’t important at all…and there was like a sign in book that some seemingly important people had used but who were we to complain when there was only one ferry running. We had to wait forever of course for the ferry then risk our lives as large vehicles came off the ferry and we stood on either side of the dock. Yea never had large 18-wheel trucks so close to my toes and I don’t care to do it again. Of course we were like cool now we’ll get good seats. Well me being the reject that I am, I see that there are two benches on the first floor. Means no stairs right? Well I would have rather had the stairs. First off we had two big ladies sitting across from us with just as much crap as me. Then some lady claimed she’s sick and needs to share our bench. Dude it can fit two people…but she shoved herself in. Lucky me I’m shoved into the metal wall and my knee is pinned by my luggage to said metal. Feels fantastic to sit for an hour like that. Yay. I still don’t believe that lady that she was sick. Stupid…
We finally get off the ferry so of course a taxi man starts following us and being mildly irritating. Alice had to go pee and I was hungry but all I wanted was to get to the border. So we walk out into the pool of taxis, cars, and car rapides into insanity. Men start touching me and trying to talk to me and of course I’m pissed. Don’t f***ing touch me! I don’t understand why they don’t get that this is not acceptable. One dude was like “whoa whoa relax relax” in his stupid Gambian accent. F**K off because when someone steals my sh*t you won’t want to see me mad. This is me relaxed when I’m getting swarmed thanks dude. Finally one of the men lead us to a sept-place taxi going to the border. We hop in to the back back seat of course because we cook better that way. They were going for well done white meat. It was way too hot in this car and we were all shoved in. Finally we made it to the border. Alice made her way to the sketchy bathrooms as I scanned for food. We found a lady making egg sandwiches. She was super awkward because she tried to use like 3 english words over and over again. Then some Wolof or Seerer or something.
Eventually we found a taxi. Not really a taxi though I suppose. It was just some dude using his car to make money. I don’t care what color the car is I’ll call it a taxi. So we found a sept-place again to make our way to Kaolack. I think at this point we were pushing like 2pm. We were way later than we thought we would have been. Now, I wish I had inspected this car some before I got in it because then I would have realized that the back bumper was falling off which allowed the hatch to hang open a solid 2 inches. So as we are flying over sand dunes at about 40mph on the side of the road what happens to the hatch? Oh yea it opens up and my piece of luggage goes flying out the back. Totally normal. So the handle was broken and the zipper got messed up. Cool. This puts me in a fantastic mood. This was the most terrifying sept-place ride yet because this was that bad stretch of road where the sand was preferable to pavement but this guy was going far too fast for sand or pavement. Of course the giant sausage fest in the car didn’t help our case. It was all men besides me and Alice so I feel like men just think live fast die young with lots of wives in this country. Stupid idiots.
We made it to Kaolack in an hour and a half. Should have taken us two. My point proven. But it was nice to make up a little lost time as long as I didn’t die in the process. We take a taxi from the gare routiere to our little Auberge (hostel essentially). It’s a nice little room. The lock was a really bizarre one with like a 4 sided key but we got an air conditioned room (we had to pay more for that one oops). It had a nice functioning shower and a big bed with a bug net and we got breakfast. Which Alice and I didn’t know about! It was a great little place. Kaolack was nice too. It’s a small but bustling village/city. Since Alice and I got there at like 4pm we had to be strategic in what we wanted to do. So we looked at the map and walked a loop around the city. There was a rather large market which was really nice because no one tried to follow you to “show” you where to shop and when I tried to buy a pair of flip-flops I had a hard time keeping the vendor’s attention rather than him pressuring me. We found a bank because we had nearly run out of money in Gamibia. Oops.
After we finished our walk we had seen a nice bar and grill that said pizzeria on the top. Alice had been craving pizza for a while at this point so we figured it be the perfect place. We stopped back at the hostel to shower and clean up. Then went to the gas station to buy some juice and water. We found the bar and grill. Dinner was great there even though it was a bit pricey. Alice’s pizza looked amazing and my hamburger complete (with egg and cheese) hit the spot. We had ice cream to top it all off because we deserved it after that long day of traveling. We were exhausted and had to be up early the next morning to go to Touba so we went right to bed when we got back.
Friday – Ohhh the bus ride from hell. So Alice and I ventured out early that morning to find some breakfast because we didn’t know at the time that the hostel had breakfast. So we found some bread and when we got back we ate that and had some café milk stuff and water at the hostel. We paid and off we went again. Off to the gare routiere. When we arrived it was so easy to find a vehicle going where we were going because the whole garage cover was labeled with each slot. So we asked how much a sept-place was but then some guy steered us towards a big white van that looks like some of our car rapides. He said this was only 1500CFA which is three dollars US and like a third of the price of a sept-place. Little did Alice and I know at the time but we got what we paid for! Lucky us. So first off all we waited three hours for this bus to fill up. Most of which was waiting on like 3 seats to fill. Cheap jerks. Then we finally took off at noon and of course even though this is supposed to be a two hour ride we ended up stopping all over the place for people to get on and off on the way. Cooooollllll. We finally hit Touba around 4pm. We got off in the middle of nowhere desert land at a gas station. They had food and I needed something for lunch so I inhaled a steak sandwich and we asked how to get to the hotel. Oh this is Mbacke by the way not Touba yet even. So they tell us there are some busses across the way that’ll take us. There’s some dude sleeping on the bus so we ask him how we get there. He points out a bus and with only two of us we wait 15 minutes then they take us on their way. We found the campement/hotel.
Let me just say in advance of my description that this may be tainted by lack of patience and two full days of traveling and the stress of running out of money but to be fair this was the worst place I’ve ever stayed in my life. We get there and there’s some young dude with huge headphones around his neck watching TV with some chick. So the chick shows us to our room with a mangled lock/handle. That alone was concerning because I had my laptop with me.
The room was spacious enough with two beds and a dinky little TV set on a little table. The bathroom had a good sized shower and was nice enough. However, no toilet paper, no soap, the bathroom I later found was still dirty when we arrived with hair from someone not Caucasian. There was also gum stuck to the wall in our bedroom for some bizarre reason and later that night we had a wicked mosquito infestation and they didn’t have mosquito nets. So we go back to tell them we want to go to Touba because we gotta get moving! At this point it’s already like 4:30/5pm ish and we’ve got 2.5 to 3 hours of daylight left. We go back and they tell us we need to wear our pan (traditional skirts) and cove our hair. Good thing Alice and I had both brought our Senegalese skirts and had scarves. I knew we would have to cover up but I wasn’t sure how much.
During this changing time, Alice and I know we don’t have much cash so I ask if I can pay for the hotel with my card. I ask the chick because she was walking in front of me and she mumbled something about “later” so I saw her in the hall a few minutes later and asked again. She freaked out on me telling me how she doesn’t know and I finally realize she doesn’t actually work there?! WTF?! Oh we also didn’t have towels to start off with. Anyways…so back to the trip to the Grand Mosque. So the chick offers to call us a cab. He rolls up demanding like 3000CFA which is ridiculous but we don’t really have time to argue and this chick wasn’t helping our case. They all stick together around here to charge the toubabs too much anyways. We roll into Touba…not what I expected. There is one huge road running through it with nice sidewalks and a cement center divide. There are banks and businesses and stuff. Then at the end is the Grand Mosque in all its glory. There was supposedly a huge market somewhere but we never saw that. It’s also entirely black market because the Marabouts run the whole city. I kinda wanted to go to it just because of that fact.
So Alice and I got a tour of the Mosque from some dude. We arrived at an hour of prayer so we had to wait a bit first. The Grand Mosque was really beautiful and we got to see the library where Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba’s, their big prophet dude who saved Senegal or something, writings are kept. Anywho, you have to look at the pictures on facebook to understand the glory of the mosque. Then Alice and I bought water and found a cheaper taxi back to the hotel. Of course the taxi didn’t have change nor did the reject who ran the hotel we were at. So the hotel guy said he’d have change later. We ended up just taking it out of the price. Speaking of price this was the most expensive hotel we had stayed in. Bullshit.
It was dinner time. So we asked the idiot what he had for dinner because they have this huge set up of tables and such and a bar. It looks like it could be a restaurant. What’s this kids answer? Chicken. Yep one word answer according to Alice. Chicken. You have to be kidding me. So, Alice and I were forced to walk a kilometer to the gas station where they had a creepy restaurant with enclosed rooms. Yea like false walls enclosing tables so that it was like a private dining experience. Creepy and awkward. Not as awkward as the house in Gambia though. Then we had to walk back in the dark. A little scary.
Now before we had left, I complained to the mother of the idiot we met when we came in because she seemed to be in charge. She saw me standing to wait to talk to her as she talked to another man and walked out of her office anyways. I was pissed because not only is her son an asshole but so is she. Cool. They took 1000CFA off the price and said they’d give us breakfast. When we got back from our gas station dinner (which was disgusting pizza not made with real sauce) we asked what time breakfast was supposed to be. Our mentally challenged host said 7:30am. I told Alice I wanted to leave 10000CFA and ditch in the morning. She wasn’t thrilled with this idea. But, morning rolled around and, in light of all our travel woes, we wanted to leave early but no breakfast at 7:30. We started to leave with 10000CFA on the table of our room because no one was around when at 8am that idiot turned up in the kitchen. So after I yelled at him and he looked panicked, we got breakfast. We were late once again. We took a taxi to Touba to a bank because we had run out of money. Of course. We went to the bank and walked with all my lovely luggage (because I’m an idiot and packed too much) to the Gare Routiere. We took another taxi for like 3 minutes because it was too far for me to walk with the luggage. And here we go again with shitty transportation.
We got to the Gare Routiere in Touba and found a sept-place. This sept-place however was going to cost us 3,500CFA each. We tried to bargain lower but when Alice said “wanni ko” which means lower it in Wolof they just all laughed at us. Seeing as we were tight on money and I was sick of the circle of men ripping us off we walked off. The guy who was trying to find us transportation pointed to a bus. Now to be fair, this bus was like a tour bus with cushy seats and everything unlike the white car rapide bus we took between Kaolack and Touba with metal seats and barely any cushioning. It was also the right price at 1500CFA. Sweet on we go!
First problem, poor Alice got stuck next to a fidgeting baby. That was a bummer. I got stuck next to a woman who felt it was her job to violate my personal space. Overall though it wasn’t bad. BUT! 30 minutes…yep count em folks…30 minutes into the drive our bus breaks down. Awesome…I was already in a supremely grumpy mood because of how that morning had went and now it was worse. Alice was trying to be optimistic about it and said well they have to send another bus. No actually they don’t. There’s no AAA in this country and no standards for travel as we had clearly experienced. So do they have to get us another bus? No they don’t.
About an hour later, a bus with people already on it shoved us all in except for a few and we took off…at the pace of a turtle. And this bus was only taking us to Pikine (outside of the city). The men on the bus were also dropping the word TOUBAB left and right. We understand some Wolof asshole. Aren’t you awesome judging people at face value. It took us from 12pm to 4 pm to reach Dakar. Should have been 2 hours to Dakar but we hit a shit ton of traffic in Rufisque and stopped at every little stand on the road between the two cities. There are women who stand on the side of their road in their desolate home villages and sell food and water. We got the grand tour and stopped at literally each one. Shoot me in the face. Luckily Alice and I were by the open back door so it aired out.
So we got to Pikine, took a taxi to MyShop and had a pizza. It had been a rough day and I really didn’t want Alice to think I was such an awful person (I know I’m a grump when things go wrong). I figured pizza was a good way to end our trip. And it was. We went our separate ways to home for a calm Saturday night. I slept a lot on Sunday needless to say! So there it is. My spring break adventures from the sand dunes of Senegal.
Stay tuned for updates about some other fun weekend’s I’ve had since then!
We finally get off the ferry so of course a taxi man starts following us and being mildly irritating. Alice had to go pee and I was hungry but all I wanted was to get to the border. So we walk out into the pool of taxis, cars, and car rapides into insanity. Men start touching me and trying to talk to me and of course I’m pissed. Don’t f***ing touch me! I don’t understand why they don’t get that this is not acceptable. One dude was like “whoa whoa relax relax” in his stupid Gambian accent. F**K off because when someone steals my sh*t you won’t want to see me mad. This is me relaxed when I’m getting swarmed thanks dude. Finally one of the men lead us to a sept-place taxi going to the border. We hop in to the back back seat of course because we cook better that way. They were going for well done white meat. It was way too hot in this car and we were all shoved in. Finally we made it to the border. Alice made her way to the sketchy bathrooms as I scanned for food. We found a lady making egg sandwiches. She was super awkward because she tried to use like 3 english words over and over again. Then some Wolof or Seerer or something.
Eventually we found a taxi. Not really a taxi though I suppose. It was just some dude using his car to make money. I don’t care what color the car is I’ll call it a taxi. So we found a sept-place again to make our way to Kaolack. I think at this point we were pushing like 2pm. We were way later than we thought we would have been. Now, I wish I had inspected this car some before I got in it because then I would have realized that the back bumper was falling off which allowed the hatch to hang open a solid 2 inches. So as we are flying over sand dunes at about 40mph on the side of the road what happens to the hatch? Oh yea it opens up and my piece of luggage goes flying out the back. Totally normal. So the handle was broken and the zipper got messed up. Cool. This puts me in a fantastic mood. This was the most terrifying sept-place ride yet because this was that bad stretch of road where the sand was preferable to pavement but this guy was going far too fast for sand or pavement. Of course the giant sausage fest in the car didn’t help our case. It was all men besides me and Alice so I feel like men just think live fast die young with lots of wives in this country. Stupid idiots.
We made it to Kaolack in an hour and a half. Should have taken us two. My point proven. But it was nice to make up a little lost time as long as I didn’t die in the process. We take a taxi from the gare routiere to our little Auberge (hostel essentially). It’s a nice little room. The lock was a really bizarre one with like a 4 sided key but we got an air conditioned room (we had to pay more for that one oops). It had a nice functioning shower and a big bed with a bug net and we got breakfast. Which Alice and I didn’t know about! It was a great little place. Kaolack was nice too. It’s a small but bustling village/city. Since Alice and I got there at like 4pm we had to be strategic in what we wanted to do. So we looked at the map and walked a loop around the city. There was a rather large market which was really nice because no one tried to follow you to “show” you where to shop and when I tried to buy a pair of flip-flops I had a hard time keeping the vendor’s attention rather than him pressuring me. We found a bank because we had nearly run out of money in Gamibia. Oops.
After we finished our walk we had seen a nice bar and grill that said pizzeria on the top. Alice had been craving pizza for a while at this point so we figured it be the perfect place. We stopped back at the hostel to shower and clean up. Then went to the gas station to buy some juice and water. We found the bar and grill. Dinner was great there even though it was a bit pricey. Alice’s pizza looked amazing and my hamburger complete (with egg and cheese) hit the spot. We had ice cream to top it all off because we deserved it after that long day of traveling. We were exhausted and had to be up early the next morning to go to Touba so we went right to bed when we got back.
Friday – Ohhh the bus ride from hell. So Alice and I ventured out early that morning to find some breakfast because we didn’t know at the time that the hostel had breakfast. So we found some bread and when we got back we ate that and had some café milk stuff and water at the hostel. We paid and off we went again. Off to the gare routiere. When we arrived it was so easy to find a vehicle going where we were going because the whole garage cover was labeled with each slot. So we asked how much a sept-place was but then some guy steered us towards a big white van that looks like some of our car rapides. He said this was only 1500CFA which is three dollars US and like a third of the price of a sept-place. Little did Alice and I know at the time but we got what we paid for! Lucky us. So first off all we waited three hours for this bus to fill up. Most of which was waiting on like 3 seats to fill. Cheap jerks. Then we finally took off at noon and of course even though this is supposed to be a two hour ride we ended up stopping all over the place for people to get on and off on the way. Cooooollllll. We finally hit Touba around 4pm. We got off in the middle of nowhere desert land at a gas station. They had food and I needed something for lunch so I inhaled a steak sandwich and we asked how to get to the hotel. Oh this is Mbacke by the way not Touba yet even. So they tell us there are some busses across the way that’ll take us. There’s some dude sleeping on the bus so we ask him how we get there. He points out a bus and with only two of us we wait 15 minutes then they take us on their way. We found the campement/hotel.
Let me just say in advance of my description that this may be tainted by lack of patience and two full days of traveling and the stress of running out of money but to be fair this was the worst place I’ve ever stayed in my life. We get there and there’s some young dude with huge headphones around his neck watching TV with some chick. So the chick shows us to our room with a mangled lock/handle. That alone was concerning because I had my laptop with me.
The room was spacious enough with two beds and a dinky little TV set on a little table. The bathroom had a good sized shower and was nice enough. However, no toilet paper, no soap, the bathroom I later found was still dirty when we arrived with hair from someone not Caucasian. There was also gum stuck to the wall in our bedroom for some bizarre reason and later that night we had a wicked mosquito infestation and they didn’t have mosquito nets. So we go back to tell them we want to go to Touba because we gotta get moving! At this point it’s already like 4:30/5pm ish and we’ve got 2.5 to 3 hours of daylight left. We go back and they tell us we need to wear our pan (traditional skirts) and cove our hair. Good thing Alice and I had both brought our Senegalese skirts and had scarves. I knew we would have to cover up but I wasn’t sure how much.
During this changing time, Alice and I know we don’t have much cash so I ask if I can pay for the hotel with my card. I ask the chick because she was walking in front of me and she mumbled something about “later” so I saw her in the hall a few minutes later and asked again. She freaked out on me telling me how she doesn’t know and I finally realize she doesn’t actually work there?! WTF?! Oh we also didn’t have towels to start off with. Anyways…so back to the trip to the Grand Mosque. So the chick offers to call us a cab. He rolls up demanding like 3000CFA which is ridiculous but we don’t really have time to argue and this chick wasn’t helping our case. They all stick together around here to charge the toubabs too much anyways. We roll into Touba…not what I expected. There is one huge road running through it with nice sidewalks and a cement center divide. There are banks and businesses and stuff. Then at the end is the Grand Mosque in all its glory. There was supposedly a huge market somewhere but we never saw that. It’s also entirely black market because the Marabouts run the whole city. I kinda wanted to go to it just because of that fact.
So Alice and I got a tour of the Mosque from some dude. We arrived at an hour of prayer so we had to wait a bit first. The Grand Mosque was really beautiful and we got to see the library where Cheikh Ahmadou Bamba’s, their big prophet dude who saved Senegal or something, writings are kept. Anywho, you have to look at the pictures on facebook to understand the glory of the mosque. Then Alice and I bought water and found a cheaper taxi back to the hotel. Of course the taxi didn’t have change nor did the reject who ran the hotel we were at. So the hotel guy said he’d have change later. We ended up just taking it out of the price. Speaking of price this was the most expensive hotel we had stayed in. Bullshit.
It was dinner time. So we asked the idiot what he had for dinner because they have this huge set up of tables and such and a bar. It looks like it could be a restaurant. What’s this kids answer? Chicken. Yep one word answer according to Alice. Chicken. You have to be kidding me. So, Alice and I were forced to walk a kilometer to the gas station where they had a creepy restaurant with enclosed rooms. Yea like false walls enclosing tables so that it was like a private dining experience. Creepy and awkward. Not as awkward as the house in Gambia though. Then we had to walk back in the dark. A little scary.
Now before we had left, I complained to the mother of the idiot we met when we came in because she seemed to be in charge. She saw me standing to wait to talk to her as she talked to another man and walked out of her office anyways. I was pissed because not only is her son an asshole but so is she. Cool. They took 1000CFA off the price and said they’d give us breakfast. When we got back from our gas station dinner (which was disgusting pizza not made with real sauce) we asked what time breakfast was supposed to be. Our mentally challenged host said 7:30am. I told Alice I wanted to leave 10000CFA and ditch in the morning. She wasn’t thrilled with this idea. But, morning rolled around and, in light of all our travel woes, we wanted to leave early but no breakfast at 7:30. We started to leave with 10000CFA on the table of our room because no one was around when at 8am that idiot turned up in the kitchen. So after I yelled at him and he looked panicked, we got breakfast. We were late once again. We took a taxi to Touba to a bank because we had run out of money. Of course. We went to the bank and walked with all my lovely luggage (because I’m an idiot and packed too much) to the Gare Routiere. We took another taxi for like 3 minutes because it was too far for me to walk with the luggage. And here we go again with shitty transportation.
We got to the Gare Routiere in Touba and found a sept-place. This sept-place however was going to cost us 3,500CFA each. We tried to bargain lower but when Alice said “wanni ko” which means lower it in Wolof they just all laughed at us. Seeing as we were tight on money and I was sick of the circle of men ripping us off we walked off. The guy who was trying to find us transportation pointed to a bus. Now to be fair, this bus was like a tour bus with cushy seats and everything unlike the white car rapide bus we took between Kaolack and Touba with metal seats and barely any cushioning. It was also the right price at 1500CFA. Sweet on we go!
First problem, poor Alice got stuck next to a fidgeting baby. That was a bummer. I got stuck next to a woman who felt it was her job to violate my personal space. Overall though it wasn’t bad. BUT! 30 minutes…yep count em folks…30 minutes into the drive our bus breaks down. Awesome…I was already in a supremely grumpy mood because of how that morning had went and now it was worse. Alice was trying to be optimistic about it and said well they have to send another bus. No actually they don’t. There’s no AAA in this country and no standards for travel as we had clearly experienced. So do they have to get us another bus? No they don’t.
About an hour later, a bus with people already on it shoved us all in except for a few and we took off…at the pace of a turtle. And this bus was only taking us to Pikine (outside of the city). The men on the bus were also dropping the word TOUBAB left and right. We understand some Wolof asshole. Aren’t you awesome judging people at face value. It took us from 12pm to 4 pm to reach Dakar. Should have been 2 hours to Dakar but we hit a shit ton of traffic in Rufisque and stopped at every little stand on the road between the two cities. There are women who stand on the side of their road in their desolate home villages and sell food and water. We got the grand tour and stopped at literally each one. Shoot me in the face. Luckily Alice and I were by the open back door so it aired out.
So we got to Pikine, took a taxi to MyShop and had a pizza. It had been a rough day and I really didn’t want Alice to think I was such an awful person (I know I’m a grump when things go wrong). I figured pizza was a good way to end our trip. And it was. We went our separate ways to home for a calm Saturday night. I slept a lot on Sunday needless to say! So there it is. My spring break adventures from the sand dunes of Senegal.
Stay tuned for updates about some other fun weekend’s I’ve had since then!
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Spring Break Part Deux
Monday - is Banjul day. Ioana and I had been staying in Bakau which is a small little townish outside of Banjul so at this point all we had seen of Banjul was the ferry terminal and the drive out of the city. Since Ioana would be leaving Tuesday we decided to spend the day there. So we took a taxi that probably cost a bit too much. We arrived to the Albert Market. Similar to markets in Dakar, this market is all along the roads but there is also an archway that leads you into the main market area where you walk through a maze of vendors. We didn’t go far into the maze of stores because we weren’t really looking to buy much. Now there is something good to be said about this Gambian market. Although there are tons of bumster men running scams all over the place, the market was clear of the creeps who follow you trying to “show” you where to shop and lead you around then ask you for money. I could not have been more thrilled because those men are the ones that make me want to physically injure them. I could still hear catcalls all over the place but whatevs those I can ignore.
So after the market, we decided to walk towards a nice park looking thing…there was also a place that looked free of people so we could take pictures. Yea that place is free of people because it’s the entrance to the military complex. Oops! So that was a bad life choice and made for some awkward scolding by some army dude like we were little kids. Nope we’re not mentally challenged we are just tourists. Ioana then wanted to find the Tanbi Wetlands. Now if you look at a map of Banjul this is a huge section that should pretty much smack you in the face as you walk up on it. We thought it’d be easy to find by walking. Turns out that walking there was the worst idea ever.
First problem was that we walked all of the city about twice for like an hour and a half. We then found an internet café which made me happy because I was waiting on an important email from Wells. So we decide to go in and Ioana has the awesome thought to look up Banjul on Google Maps. I was too distracted by the excitement of connecting back to real life to come up with solid plans like this one. So we found our path though we were tired and hot. We get on the correct road (there are limited signs but there are more than Dakar) and walked ALL the way back down the length of the city. Finally we come to this four way stop and we have two options. One sign says the name of the road we want but I think it’s pointing in the wrong direction and the other direction which I thought would be the right one looked just as shady. Dirty roads with dirty men lurking. Yay. So we take the road marked with the name we recognize. OF COURSE! The road sign was wrong because why would we need correct signage on our roads. So we went back while being a bit bothered by some dirty men and too the turn instead. This was creepy road where all the cars in Gambia came to die. It was like walking through a junk yard/dock. We did however find the wetlands. The dirty, polluted and sad wetlands. Have to say they were not worth the trouble but perhaps if we hadn’t been cheap college students and perhaps taken a boat from a less dirty end they would have been more appealing. I know that sentence wasn’t grammatically correct in any way, shape or form but it got the idea across. So we took several pictures and investigated some while huge trucks blew past us and send half the Sahara desert with them as they passed. We finally ventured our way back to lunch!
Sorry to Ioana who had to deal with a grumpy Sammy during the wetlands adventure. Part of the problem was I was not well fed. We should have learned our lesson with the forest and grumpy Sammy part one. We found King of Shwarma and it was good. I did have to yell at a vendor who came up to us while we were eating. F***ing rude. Just sayin’. And then we tried to grab a taxi home. One man came up to us and tried the don’t you recognize me from the hotel skit. This is getting old by now. Then we found the world’s worst cab driver. Seriously the worst. Let me explain why I never want to hear you complain about bad driving again unless you are in an actual accident:
First off, this kid was as cheap as they come and stupid. On our way out of town he stops by a crowd of creepy men and as they swarm the car Ioana and I can just remember the guy who ripped open our taxi doors this morning as we were leaving trying to get us out of the car. A little scary. Now we were swarmed by bums. Somewhere in this mix, a woman and her child and a man with her try to get in the car. The man made the mistake of trying to open my door. Nope dude don’t touch my door. Feeling a bit protective of my door right now. So they get in and we leave. Now I realized as we are driving that we passed BOTH turns towards Bakau and are heading somewhere else. This idiot decided to drop this woman off in Westfield then loop ALL THE WAY back to Bakau. This is like the least logical pair of stops ever. Way to be cheap kid. You’re losing money anyways just by the longer route just fyi. Also while we are driving this kid is freakin texting and swerving a bit. Now this was hardly noticeable on the big wide roads but as our roads got narrower and narrower towards Bakau this was terrifying! He wasn’t paying any goddamn attention. So as this gets progressively worse, I tell Ioana I don’t want to pay him in full and then she starts freaking out not to be mean. I thought it was perfectly fare (haha word play see that?). And, as if to further verify that he is a delinquent in need of ADHD medication he takes his key out of the ignition while driving, picks his ear wax with it, and reinserts the key. I guess he thought it just needed some lubrication. The good news is we made it back alive the bad news is I felt like a mother ready to give a lecture. Awkward angry moments. So that was our day in Banjul. This is why I say our first night should have been a solid indication as to the crappy driving we’d face in the future.
We hung around in the pool and stuff then I wanted to eat. Night had fallen and Ioana was a bit scared of walking to far in the dark. I was a little concerned but less so I think. So we went to the bar were we had eaten before. Ioana practically ran there she was walking so fast. Of course it took forever to get our food. So while we were talking, the guy who had bugged us our first night there came up to talk to us. Ioana and I were in the middle of a conversation but these people, as nice as they think they are, have a) no concept of personal space and b) no concept of a private conversation. I tried to respond politely and as he apologizes for interrupting and tries to sit down I tell him we are in the middle of a conversation. It was rude! I wasn’t trying to be nasty but even my version of nice seemed mean to him and he removed himself from the table. Bumster 0 Sammy 1. I win! My steak sandwich was phenomenal though so I can’t complain too much. Then me and Ioana returned and watched a movie. It was a good night over all and a great day in Banjul despite our wetland mishap. Off to bed early because Tuesday is Border Switch day.
Tuesday – BORDER SWITCH!!! Bam like magic Alice was transported to Gambia and Ioana was transported home in no time at all! Bahaha not really how it went but this was our best travel experience as far as I’m concerned. Ioana and I got up SUPER early and found a taxi to Banjul to catch the ferry. Today was our lucky day! There were two ferries running! YAY! Double the fun. And by that I mean half our travel time. So we got right onto a ferry and were over in a flash (and by that I mean 45 minutes) then made our way up to the border. We took taxis both times which Alice and I learned later is too expensive and that public transport is better. But anyways, we made our way to the border easily which is the weird part and met up with Alice. I had to wait awkwardly at the Gambian border post but it was fun to people watch and speak to some of the guards. I don’t know what took Alice so long to cross but it was nice we made it to the border by like 9am. Couldn’t have asked for a quicker travel time. Then it got better! Once Alice crossed over we were looking for a taxi and instead there was a cheap van going with a bunch of people. YAY! Cheap cheap!
So we sat on the bus and Alice told me her interesting and somewhat horrifying stories about the village. Like how her host mom cut a little boy open after he got a hold of a razor blade and cut his little sister. I suppose eye for an eye…but it isn’t quite the same as pulling hair. Just sayin’. You’ll have to read her blog for the rest. We got to the ferry and for some odd reason got pulled in to have Alice’s bags inspected. They didn’t even inspect them at the border so this seemed a bit late and unnecessary. We waited for the ferry and got a snack and such. This wait was much easier because there were less people and Alice and I decided not to run like Ioana and I. Much better life choice but like I said it was easier because there were less people. We got to the hotel pretty seamlessly and decided to relax. Alice was tired and wanted to enjoy the luxury of running water and I was tired and wanted to enjoy the luxury of doing nothing. It was a win/win.
Luckily that night we also found cheap food! We went into this little place with literally two tables inside and several outside with creepy red lighting. However small and weird, the plates were like 50 Dalasi for good food versus like 215 Dalasi at that bar Ioana and I had eaten at. Damn that’s a good price! And the fries were to die for! They were fresh potato and oil fries. So good! To top it all off the names of the two dudes who ran it were Prince and Moses. Not sure where they came up with those bizarre names but they were interesting characters for sure. We then watched Due Date (the new movie) with some tea and cookies. Most relaxed day yet I do believe!
Wednesday – Banjul Part II. Since Alice had not yet seen Banjul or anything for that matter we made a game plan for the day and were off on new adventures for her and some of the same for me. I say the same but it was all different than me and Ioana’s experience which seemed really strange to me. First, we went to the Crocodile pool. I won’t bore you with a repeat about this BUT this time Alice and I got to TOUCH THE CROCODILE! So cool! I even have photos to prove it. Omar was a sport bringing us there again and I was sad I had to pay twice but hey at least this time I got to touch the croc!
Then, we went to Banjul and this time Alice and I took the minibuses (which are really minivans) to the city which again were WAY cheaper. Made me happy anyways. Ioana and I chose to see other parts of Banjul on our trip but Alice decided we should see the National Museum and I agreed completely. Despite Lonely Planet’s description of the place, it was a cute museum with good exhibits I thought. The layout was a bit confusing but that’s bound to happen the way things are organized in West Africa but there were some really cool artifacts and historical stuff. There was also a music room down in the basement which was pretty cool. At the start of our visit there was a school visiting with a huge group of kids who couldn’t care less so that was a bit irritating but overall it was cool. I did have to go pee on the way out and made the mistake of thinking their bathrooms MIGHT be decent because this is a public tourist spot. Nope scariest bathroom ever. Like a little hall way with a toilet at the end and a nasty sink and no tp. Of course no toilet paper. This was like a hallway out of the Willy Wonka Factory and I was afraid the walls might start closing in on me so I didn’t take my time.
After the museum, we went to lunch at Ali Baba’s which is a chain I know well from Dakar. They always seem to have good food. So Alice and I chose a table near the door. If only we could have seen into the future. All of a sudden this nasty smelly dude starts trying to sell us some baby shit and shaking a rattle toy at us. At first I try nicely to tell him to go away. Then he continues to harass us and I tell him he’s just straight up rude. He went away for a little while sensing my anger. He clearly didn’t sense my anger well enough. He tried AGAIN! So I finally yelled at him. This guy continued to hang around the door (which is like a large open store front btw) and then entices some kids of a family who are eating in there with the toys he has. He totally disrupts the family’s lunch because now the kids are crying and whining about the toys they want. At least in the states you can just leave your whiny kid home. Here you have these toys constantly in their face and they ask for them just like any kid would. How irritating. I wanted to throw a hard object at the man but I had nothing useful to throw. Now that I’ve written this I actually remember this is Alice and I having lunch the day she arrived on Tuesday. Nevermind that now. It was still an irritating experience.
After the museum we ACTUALLY went to a restaurant down towards Arch 22. The restaurant was nice and dark and cool inside but empty. It didn’t seem to have a great menu but the food was good enough. The server was super awkward. What’s new. And there was some strange man who came up to us twice to talk to us. The first time he completely embarrassed himself because he asked if we were someone…and we weren’t the people he was looking for. The next time he thought we were from the states which instantly makes us like a novelty in this country. Great. Yea yea we’re from the states. Yea yea democracy. Yea yea Obama messing up my Pell Grant so no I’m not happy about that. Always the same conversation really.
After lunch I showed Alice the market. Cool as it was the first time I suppose! We went a little further into the maze which was scary and cool all at the same time. Then we found the internet café to feed our need for a connection to media and real life. Then we walked to the park and took some pictures. Then we found the minibuses home! I was surprised we found the minibus station so easily but it was just a really nice relaxed day in Banjul! It was awesome.
That night we decided to try a new venue for dinner and we ended up in yet another extraordinarily awkward situation. We found we were very good at finding ourselves in these awkward moments. There was a little bar and grill just to the left of our alley way to the hotel. They actually share a wall with our hotel so that’s how close this was. We walking and look around. As you look around it looks like a building, some laundry hanging out to dry to the right, a bar set up to the left, and tables randomly dispersed there. First, we asked to see the menu because we are cheap college students who can’t afford much and want to check the prices. So she tells us to sit down while we look. The menu had more spelling mistakes which made you wonder if a small child wrote it but the prices weren’t bad and there were some good options. This particular night in Bakau was really windy and chilly so we figured hey there’s probably seating inside right? Wrong.
Alice and I made the mistake of asking if there was seating indoors as we were standing up and immediately the family surrounded us and stuff and brought us into the house. Yep that’s right! This building wasn’t a restaurant or some indoor seating this is their personal house. So as we start to say no we can sit outside she starts shuffling people around and throws us in some poor girls room. Yea….we’re sitting in a teenage girl’s bedroom over her little bedside table in two lawn chairs. Couldn’t get more awkward right? Well not only did we wait a while debating whether to move back outside or not but as we were ready to get up and leave, a naked little boy came to our door and stared at us. We were on our way out anyways so that was a bit less awkward but I have to say it’s a long way from anything I’ve ever had to deal with. Then we went to Prince and Moses’ shop for their fries. They were so good the night before we just had to have them again!
We showed up to the shop and to Moses’ surprise we only wanted fries and I ordered a coke because I have a soda addiction. It’s a problem I know. He gave Alice a coke too assuming that we just needed to have two and probably to just get our money. So we finished our fries and to our lovely surprise we were told to wait that they have a surprise for us. The boys had made us a fish and onion jazz! Very nice of them. Of course the night before they asked us for our phone number and email. Alice and I gave false numbers and real emails. No one has to really answer email. Then Alice had her camera so we decided pictures would be cool. What I forgot to tell Alice that night was how Moses slowly slide his hand down to my ass while she was taking a picture to get a free feel. Less than impressed but nothing about it surprised me that’s the sad part. End of day four. Off early in the morning on Thursday.
So after the market, we decided to walk towards a nice park looking thing…there was also a place that looked free of people so we could take pictures. Yea that place is free of people because it’s the entrance to the military complex. Oops! So that was a bad life choice and made for some awkward scolding by some army dude like we were little kids. Nope we’re not mentally challenged we are just tourists. Ioana then wanted to find the Tanbi Wetlands. Now if you look at a map of Banjul this is a huge section that should pretty much smack you in the face as you walk up on it. We thought it’d be easy to find by walking. Turns out that walking there was the worst idea ever.
First problem was that we walked all of the city about twice for like an hour and a half. We then found an internet café which made me happy because I was waiting on an important email from Wells. So we decide to go in and Ioana has the awesome thought to look up Banjul on Google Maps. I was too distracted by the excitement of connecting back to real life to come up with solid plans like this one. So we found our path though we were tired and hot. We get on the correct road (there are limited signs but there are more than Dakar) and walked ALL the way back down the length of the city. Finally we come to this four way stop and we have two options. One sign says the name of the road we want but I think it’s pointing in the wrong direction and the other direction which I thought would be the right one looked just as shady. Dirty roads with dirty men lurking. Yay. So we take the road marked with the name we recognize. OF COURSE! The road sign was wrong because why would we need correct signage on our roads. So we went back while being a bit bothered by some dirty men and too the turn instead. This was creepy road where all the cars in Gambia came to die. It was like walking through a junk yard/dock. We did however find the wetlands. The dirty, polluted and sad wetlands. Have to say they were not worth the trouble but perhaps if we hadn’t been cheap college students and perhaps taken a boat from a less dirty end they would have been more appealing. I know that sentence wasn’t grammatically correct in any way, shape or form but it got the idea across. So we took several pictures and investigated some while huge trucks blew past us and send half the Sahara desert with them as they passed. We finally ventured our way back to lunch!
Sorry to Ioana who had to deal with a grumpy Sammy during the wetlands adventure. Part of the problem was I was not well fed. We should have learned our lesson with the forest and grumpy Sammy part one. We found King of Shwarma and it was good. I did have to yell at a vendor who came up to us while we were eating. F***ing rude. Just sayin’. And then we tried to grab a taxi home. One man came up to us and tried the don’t you recognize me from the hotel skit. This is getting old by now. Then we found the world’s worst cab driver. Seriously the worst. Let me explain why I never want to hear you complain about bad driving again unless you are in an actual accident:
First off, this kid was as cheap as they come and stupid. On our way out of town he stops by a crowd of creepy men and as they swarm the car Ioana and I can just remember the guy who ripped open our taxi doors this morning as we were leaving trying to get us out of the car. A little scary. Now we were swarmed by bums. Somewhere in this mix, a woman and her child and a man with her try to get in the car. The man made the mistake of trying to open my door. Nope dude don’t touch my door. Feeling a bit protective of my door right now. So they get in and we leave. Now I realized as we are driving that we passed BOTH turns towards Bakau and are heading somewhere else. This idiot decided to drop this woman off in Westfield then loop ALL THE WAY back to Bakau. This is like the least logical pair of stops ever. Way to be cheap kid. You’re losing money anyways just by the longer route just fyi. Also while we are driving this kid is freakin texting and swerving a bit. Now this was hardly noticeable on the big wide roads but as our roads got narrower and narrower towards Bakau this was terrifying! He wasn’t paying any goddamn attention. So as this gets progressively worse, I tell Ioana I don’t want to pay him in full and then she starts freaking out not to be mean. I thought it was perfectly fare (haha word play see that?). And, as if to further verify that he is a delinquent in need of ADHD medication he takes his key out of the ignition while driving, picks his ear wax with it, and reinserts the key. I guess he thought it just needed some lubrication. The good news is we made it back alive the bad news is I felt like a mother ready to give a lecture. Awkward angry moments. So that was our day in Banjul. This is why I say our first night should have been a solid indication as to the crappy driving we’d face in the future.
We hung around in the pool and stuff then I wanted to eat. Night had fallen and Ioana was a bit scared of walking to far in the dark. I was a little concerned but less so I think. So we went to the bar were we had eaten before. Ioana practically ran there she was walking so fast. Of course it took forever to get our food. So while we were talking, the guy who had bugged us our first night there came up to talk to us. Ioana and I were in the middle of a conversation but these people, as nice as they think they are, have a) no concept of personal space and b) no concept of a private conversation. I tried to respond politely and as he apologizes for interrupting and tries to sit down I tell him we are in the middle of a conversation. It was rude! I wasn’t trying to be nasty but even my version of nice seemed mean to him and he removed himself from the table. Bumster 0 Sammy 1. I win! My steak sandwich was phenomenal though so I can’t complain too much. Then me and Ioana returned and watched a movie. It was a good night over all and a great day in Banjul despite our wetland mishap. Off to bed early because Tuesday is Border Switch day.
Tuesday – BORDER SWITCH!!! Bam like magic Alice was transported to Gambia and Ioana was transported home in no time at all! Bahaha not really how it went but this was our best travel experience as far as I’m concerned. Ioana and I got up SUPER early and found a taxi to Banjul to catch the ferry. Today was our lucky day! There were two ferries running! YAY! Double the fun. And by that I mean half our travel time. So we got right onto a ferry and were over in a flash (and by that I mean 45 minutes) then made our way up to the border. We took taxis both times which Alice and I learned later is too expensive and that public transport is better. But anyways, we made our way to the border easily which is the weird part and met up with Alice. I had to wait awkwardly at the Gambian border post but it was fun to people watch and speak to some of the guards. I don’t know what took Alice so long to cross but it was nice we made it to the border by like 9am. Couldn’t have asked for a quicker travel time. Then it got better! Once Alice crossed over we were looking for a taxi and instead there was a cheap van going with a bunch of people. YAY! Cheap cheap!
So we sat on the bus and Alice told me her interesting and somewhat horrifying stories about the village. Like how her host mom cut a little boy open after he got a hold of a razor blade and cut his little sister. I suppose eye for an eye…but it isn’t quite the same as pulling hair. Just sayin’. You’ll have to read her blog for the rest. We got to the ferry and for some odd reason got pulled in to have Alice’s bags inspected. They didn’t even inspect them at the border so this seemed a bit late and unnecessary. We waited for the ferry and got a snack and such. This wait was much easier because there were less people and Alice and I decided not to run like Ioana and I. Much better life choice but like I said it was easier because there were less people. We got to the hotel pretty seamlessly and decided to relax. Alice was tired and wanted to enjoy the luxury of running water and I was tired and wanted to enjoy the luxury of doing nothing. It was a win/win.
Luckily that night we also found cheap food! We went into this little place with literally two tables inside and several outside with creepy red lighting. However small and weird, the plates were like 50 Dalasi for good food versus like 215 Dalasi at that bar Ioana and I had eaten at. Damn that’s a good price! And the fries were to die for! They were fresh potato and oil fries. So good! To top it all off the names of the two dudes who ran it were Prince and Moses. Not sure where they came up with those bizarre names but they were interesting characters for sure. We then watched Due Date (the new movie) with some tea and cookies. Most relaxed day yet I do believe!
Wednesday – Banjul Part II. Since Alice had not yet seen Banjul or anything for that matter we made a game plan for the day and were off on new adventures for her and some of the same for me. I say the same but it was all different than me and Ioana’s experience which seemed really strange to me. First, we went to the Crocodile pool. I won’t bore you with a repeat about this BUT this time Alice and I got to TOUCH THE CROCODILE! So cool! I even have photos to prove it. Omar was a sport bringing us there again and I was sad I had to pay twice but hey at least this time I got to touch the croc!
Then, we went to Banjul and this time Alice and I took the minibuses (which are really minivans) to the city which again were WAY cheaper. Made me happy anyways. Ioana and I chose to see other parts of Banjul on our trip but Alice decided we should see the National Museum and I agreed completely. Despite Lonely Planet’s description of the place, it was a cute museum with good exhibits I thought. The layout was a bit confusing but that’s bound to happen the way things are organized in West Africa but there were some really cool artifacts and historical stuff. There was also a music room down in the basement which was pretty cool. At the start of our visit there was a school visiting with a huge group of kids who couldn’t care less so that was a bit irritating but overall it was cool. I did have to go pee on the way out and made the mistake of thinking their bathrooms MIGHT be decent because this is a public tourist spot. Nope scariest bathroom ever. Like a little hall way with a toilet at the end and a nasty sink and no tp. Of course no toilet paper. This was like a hallway out of the Willy Wonka Factory and I was afraid the walls might start closing in on me so I didn’t take my time.
After the museum, we went to lunch at Ali Baba’s which is a chain I know well from Dakar. They always seem to have good food. So Alice and I chose a table near the door. If only we could have seen into the future. All of a sudden this nasty smelly dude starts trying to sell us some baby shit and shaking a rattle toy at us. At first I try nicely to tell him to go away. Then he continues to harass us and I tell him he’s just straight up rude. He went away for a little while sensing my anger. He clearly didn’t sense my anger well enough. He tried AGAIN! So I finally yelled at him. This guy continued to hang around the door (which is like a large open store front btw) and then entices some kids of a family who are eating in there with the toys he has. He totally disrupts the family’s lunch because now the kids are crying and whining about the toys they want. At least in the states you can just leave your whiny kid home. Here you have these toys constantly in their face and they ask for them just like any kid would. How irritating. I wanted to throw a hard object at the man but I had nothing useful to throw. Now that I’ve written this I actually remember this is Alice and I having lunch the day she arrived on Tuesday. Nevermind that now. It was still an irritating experience.
After the museum we ACTUALLY went to a restaurant down towards Arch 22. The restaurant was nice and dark and cool inside but empty. It didn’t seem to have a great menu but the food was good enough. The server was super awkward. What’s new. And there was some strange man who came up to us twice to talk to us. The first time he completely embarrassed himself because he asked if we were someone…and we weren’t the people he was looking for. The next time he thought we were from the states which instantly makes us like a novelty in this country. Great. Yea yea we’re from the states. Yea yea democracy. Yea yea Obama messing up my Pell Grant so no I’m not happy about that. Always the same conversation really.
After lunch I showed Alice the market. Cool as it was the first time I suppose! We went a little further into the maze which was scary and cool all at the same time. Then we found the internet café to feed our need for a connection to media and real life. Then we walked to the park and took some pictures. Then we found the minibuses home! I was surprised we found the minibus station so easily but it was just a really nice relaxed day in Banjul! It was awesome.
That night we decided to try a new venue for dinner and we ended up in yet another extraordinarily awkward situation. We found we were very good at finding ourselves in these awkward moments. There was a little bar and grill just to the left of our alley way to the hotel. They actually share a wall with our hotel so that’s how close this was. We walking and look around. As you look around it looks like a building, some laundry hanging out to dry to the right, a bar set up to the left, and tables randomly dispersed there. First, we asked to see the menu because we are cheap college students who can’t afford much and want to check the prices. So she tells us to sit down while we look. The menu had more spelling mistakes which made you wonder if a small child wrote it but the prices weren’t bad and there were some good options. This particular night in Bakau was really windy and chilly so we figured hey there’s probably seating inside right? Wrong.
Alice and I made the mistake of asking if there was seating indoors as we were standing up and immediately the family surrounded us and stuff and brought us into the house. Yep that’s right! This building wasn’t a restaurant or some indoor seating this is their personal house. So as we start to say no we can sit outside she starts shuffling people around and throws us in some poor girls room. Yea….we’re sitting in a teenage girl’s bedroom over her little bedside table in two lawn chairs. Couldn’t get more awkward right? Well not only did we wait a while debating whether to move back outside or not but as we were ready to get up and leave, a naked little boy came to our door and stared at us. We were on our way out anyways so that was a bit less awkward but I have to say it’s a long way from anything I’ve ever had to deal with. Then we went to Prince and Moses’ shop for their fries. They were so good the night before we just had to have them again!
We showed up to the shop and to Moses’ surprise we only wanted fries and I ordered a coke because I have a soda addiction. It’s a problem I know. He gave Alice a coke too assuming that we just needed to have two and probably to just get our money. So we finished our fries and to our lovely surprise we were told to wait that they have a surprise for us. The boys had made us a fish and onion jazz! Very nice of them. Of course the night before they asked us for our phone number and email. Alice and I gave false numbers and real emails. No one has to really answer email. Then Alice had her camera so we decided pictures would be cool. What I forgot to tell Alice that night was how Moses slowly slide his hand down to my ass while she was taking a picture to get a free feel. Less than impressed but nothing about it surprised me that’s the sad part. End of day four. Off early in the morning on Thursday.
Friday, April 1, 2011
Spring Break Adventures:Part 1
This is probably going to be waaayy to long for one post so I’m thinking an exciting three part series for this blog post. Spring break was so eventful, relaxing, stressful, and bizarre that it just can’t be condensed. Let’s start with my departure: the scene is Dakar way too early on a Saturday morning…
So I started my morning dark and early at 6:30am on the streets of Ouakam. I waited for a taxi and I was a bit grumpy because he gave me a crappy price. He was way to chipper and found it appropriate to shove his cup of Café Touba in my face to offer me some. Actually sir, no I don’t want your café touba because I don’t like coffee and you probably brush your teeth by picking at them with a stick like most people do here. But thanks anyways. We all met up at Ioana’s house in Mermoz but Alice hadn’t gotten anything to eat for breakfast or on our car ride so we went to Brioche Doree across the street. YAY! I love their pastries! This made my morning especially since I accidentally bought two chocolate croissants because I wasn’t paying attention. Double the fun! So we took our taxi to the Gare Routiere. Now in French Gare means train station but this is more of a station wagon station. See to get most places in Senegal there are two options: bus or sept-place taxi. We’ll learn why the bus around is the worst transportation you’ve ever taken in your entire life but that’s later. Sept-places on the other hand are these bizarre station wagon mutants. Their interior has been ripped apart to add a third row of seating so that you can fit 7 people plus the driver hence the name SEPT-place. It was surprisingly easy to find one heading to Karang (the Senegalese border town). Unfortunately, every sept-place made you wonder if you had your tetanus shot updated lately or when was the last time you found it acceptable to shove 9 people in a station wagon. Yes I say nine because we had a little girl sitting on her mom’s lap/slumped on the floor the whole way. We, the three toubabs, got shoved in the back back seat. Now since these seats sit over the back axel we have less head space, luggage directly behind us, and the metal protecting you from the tire below is the modern invention of plastic! Yes these are just in case you didn’t want to cook breakfast on the hot wheel well while you were riding along. So with us three, 5 other adults and the little girl on board we were off and out of the reach of all the vendors who had been sticking their arms and limbs in our car in a desperate attempt to sell us food/fruit/soda/tissues/flashlights/etc. Luckily we made it out without running anyone over.
The first few hours of the car ride were utterly boring and just as sweaty. I tried to sleep but I got stuck with the hump seat. Now being the baby of the family I’m used to getting the hump seat since I was the smallest and didn’t get a choice. We also had enough luggage/bags in the back that these created a convenient head rest for us. I suppose this should have been alarming to me since I have seen that episode of Mythbusters where they prove heavy objects in the back of vehicles will smash your head like a watermelon from a tall building should you get in an accident. So we got into Kaolack on a stretch of road that was starting to get yucky with lots of huge potholes which could swallow an 18 wheeler who we often aimed at as we swerved all around the road to avoid said holes. Having the middle seat probably took about 20 years off my life just from the fear and stress. We stopped in Kaolack for water and food and a bathroom if you could find one. Everyone abandoned the car as if the locks on these cars actually work or that no one would touch our stuff. Yes because that is a safe assumption. So as Alice, Ioana, and I stood guard I watched the traffic. Watching traffic in Kaolack makes me wonder how anyone lives past the age of 30 and makes you suspicious whether poverty is really what brings down the life expectancy in poor countries. We get on our way out of Kaolack and here comes the worst of the roads. Typically, we were driving on the sand besides the road rather than on the road itself. Now, we knew these roads were bad because we had recently had our trip to Toubacouta with the group however our bus was in great condition. Our sept-place was not. We get to Toubacouta which is pretty close to the border so we are excited we are close.
Nope! God decided to smite us and all of a sudden we lose a tire. With a load pop, some thrashing around under the car, some fishtailing action, and the lovely music of metal grinding on pavement we came to a sad stop. Now when I say we lost a tire I don’t mean we simply got a flat tire. At first, before the fishtailing was that a large piece of the car had fallen out of the bottom. Not a shocking thought. Then with the pop sound and fishtailing I thought we might have just gotten violent flat tire. Nope! None of that normal stuff that happens to real people. When I say lost a tire what I really mean is when you take a tire off a car and look at where the brake rotors are/should be that’s all we had left. Of course, Ioana had been sitting over that wheel so as the shock of it all settled down I realize had we not had a great driver we could have been in a serious accident. It’s not hard to flip a car when the edge of the road is about 4 inches about the sand. The wheel flew off to some unknown destination in the forest and the circular piece of metal that had been holding it on was melted flat with the road. So the three men got out to look at the damage all manly like as us girls haul out to look at it too. Alice started taking pictures a bit awkwardly and I say awkwardly because the men were still standing there and I felt she was hurting their ego by taking pictures. I took one as evidence for my Dad. He’s a car man so he knows what he’s looking at but I took it as they were searching for the tire. The Senegalese women couldn’t be bothered to look. I guess they’re used to it anyways. We also saw an accident on the way to our accident. We happened upon an accident where a sept-place had hit a motorcycle driver. We arrived just in time to see the unfortunate motorcyclist get hauled into a car. Not a happy scene. He wasn’t bloody on the outside but that doesn’t mean he’s not bleeding on the inside. In the end, a kid in a normal car took us three girls and the woman with her daughter to the border safe and sound and I learned that sept-place rides are a hot mess.
The first thing to know about the border is that the people here have no concept of personal space or anger management problems. We step out of the car into a hoard of people. “hello pretty lady how are you? Hi nice lady would you like some peanuts? I can give you Dalasi (Gambian currency) for your CFA” (because Gambia speaks some convoluted form of English). No lady I don’t want your peanuts so stop touching me. Don’t touch my bags and take a step back before I lose my shit. I was angry in case you can’t tell from that mini dialogue because they touch you and I know all they want to do is steal my stuff and invade my space so I panic into buying something. The only thing they were going to panic me into was smacking someone. Alice was spending three nights in the little village we had taken a trip to several weeks ago. To do this we had to approach the motorcycle gang while still being swarmed. We found her a ride and Ioana and I continued to the Senegalese border post. The man there complemented me on my French and my lack of an American accent which I know is untrue but it gave me a little ego boost for the day. The Gambian side was a bit more intimidating.
First, they checked our bags at the Gambian border as if they ever get real security risks. Then we went to get our visas. You walk in and the first thing you see is this crappy little detention cell with a few pots. I assume one for food and one for toilet and the third one for who knows what else. We also had the great fortune of seeing one of these detainees in his natural habitat! I stopped snickering about the crappy cell once I realized someone was in it. At the end of the hall, we arrive to a guy sitting in an office looking bored out of his skull. He hit on us some then tried to take a serious interrogation tone bout our reasons for visiting and all that. I don’t know but I’ve never seen an interrogation that comes with a speed dating service. We finally get our visas and ar eon our way paying too much for a taxi yada yada. Then the ferry was a whole new adventure.
Ohh the ferry in Gambia how I loathe thee. The ferry was a long wait first of all. They only had one ferry running that day so it took about 2 hours for it to make the round trip. Ioana and I waited about an hour and a half. We got lost finding the terminal because you have to walk through a shady maze of shacks to get there. As we waited we saw the couple from our sept-place who stayed behind. I was glad to see they made it. So we had a short conversation about our terrifying adventures. I had an earwig on my shirt and had a mini public freakout which was embarrassing. That’s about as eventful as our wait was. Finally, everyone makes a move towards the door. Apparently some people have honed ferry hunting skills and heard if from halfway to Banjul because we all shoved up against the gate in a nice sweaty crowd and waited about another half hour in the hot hot sun. Yay! Meanwhile, old ladies are pummeling me with their damn luggage so they can get in front of me. The gates finally let loose like the floods from hell. Ioana starts running so there I am running with my piece of luggage and my backpack on the front of me since I was worried about people opening it. We’re running next to crazy people swinging bags and babies everywhere. So we find seats luckily on the ferry and we wait…again. The ferry is extraordinarily slow and takes about 40 minutes to do less distance or about the same as Lake Champlain. Maybe our ferry does take that long and I just don’t remember but it took forever. Getting off the boat was just as much fun seeing as luggage hits rriiigghht at that soft spot in your knees so you near about fall as you simultaneously get shoved down the staircase. Because that’s not dangerous at all. Of course while all this is happening I get something in my contact that is burning in my eye. As if the dust from the car accident wasn’t bad enough. Ioana and I try calling their family friend who is supposed to pick us up but she is late of course…just like everyone in Senegal. We walk on to the street and stand still. Now this is the worst thing you can do as a white foreigner. You get harassed and swarmed but we didn’t really have a choice.
My eye is literally on fire. So I tell Ioana we’re going to stand where we are. I knew I had wet wipes (thanks Mom!) and my contact solution in my backpack. So I wiped my hands off and ignored the dirty old man hitting on us as I ripped out my contact. Now as most people know this is a slightly gross and disturbing process because it involves touching my eye. Now imagine you didn’t know what I was doing. The look on this man’s face as he watched me remove my contact was priceless. I only WISH I had had my camera. There was a look of sheer disgust and absolute horror which was making me laugh and making it difficult to concentrate. Mind you he never stops trying to get me to marry him despite his sheer disgust; his advances were simply mingled among the oh my what are you doing comments. I think this just tells us how desperate some men really are. I tried to explain but I think to this day it’ll be some sort of horror story he’ll tell his kids about what the crazy white folks do.
So we get harassed as we wait for our ride and I was super grumpy. Finally, they show up. Gatou and her brother drive us to our hotel which was super nice of them because it saved us a bunch because we didn’t have to get ripped off by a taxi. The hotel was down a shady little alley way and now I was worried I had picked a crappy hotel. Behind the large walls awaited a cute little oasis for our Gambian stay! There was a small pool surrounded by huts. Our hut had three rooms: the bathroom, living room, and bedroom. All were very nice. The bathroom had white tile so it looked a little dingy and got dirty quick but it was big and had a functioning shower. YAY! No bucket shower for Sammy! We also got a fridge and had a water heater for tea. I have to say the best addition I could have ever asked for was little Vega, the kitten we arrived to who was sleeping in the chair on our front stoop. So adorable!!!
Ioana and I were super tired but we wanted to meet Fatou’s family soooo we each took our turns in the nice shower and de-sweatified ourselves from our cramped travels. We figured hey free dinner and off we went again sleep deprived but excited. Fatou’s house was WAAAYYY different than any house I’ve seen in Senegal. They had it decorated from floor to ceiling with all sorts of crazy stuff. Nice china, teddy bears, photos, large glass fronted shelves. They were clearly well off. So we ate some dinner and chilled out at the TV with the family. If I remember correctly there were 3 sisters, the brother, and a baby. Of course we also met the mom of the house. Mind you, when I say sisters I’m not sure how they’re all related but anyways…As we’re sitting there I realize Fatou wants to take us out dancing because it’s Saturday night of course! I’m exhausted as is Ioana. Fatou offered me a nap but if I took a nap I was never waking up so Ioana naps while I’m with the fam. We pick up a friend of Fatou’s and bring her back. Time ticks away…now I know people go out late here and I figured ohh midnight or something. Then who knows how late we’d be out but I never get to go out guilt free in Dakar so I sucked it up. So we go to Fatou’s friend’s house as they get dressed and shower and chat. Her friend’s brother and some other folds come in and leave. We eat some eggs. FINALLY! We are ready to go out at the early hour of 12:45am. Ohh dear…so tired! I’m not used to going out on a normal amount of sleep much less on 8 hours of travel and spotty sleep the night before. We walk into the club, Duplex, and I was really surprised. I’m not really sure what American clubs look like because the only one I’ve seen is that shady little one in Burlington that allows folks under 21 every now and then, but I imagine this one is a lot like ours. It’s a huge club with lots of lights and a bar and of course huge flat screens displaying people dancing in the club. Of course the only people being displayed on these screens were the white foreign chicks who were smashed and looking mentally challenged in a club full of Gambian folks. This made me think of two things: Kesha and why white girls get a bad name.
The dancing was fun but I was too tired to enjoy it for too long. It was nice to hear some American music and just have fun. On our way back to the hotel we saw an SUV almost flip and a taxi accident where they hit each other head on. Now this should have been a warning to the utterly shitty driving Ioana and I would soon encounter in Gambia. SLLEEEEPPPP! Finally we slept and even if our bed hadn’t been comfy I would have said it was. It was a good night
SUNDAY – So Ioana and I wake up slow on Sunday tired from our night out. We scrounge around for breakfast and showered. We wanted to pay the hotel so we found Omar, the Gambian man who works for Alan (the owner). He introduced us to Alan the old British (?) man who runs the place. He talked to us forever! Finally we get it out of him that he wants us to pay in Dalasi instead of CFA. Cool. Something else we have to do. But later. Instead, we ask Omar how to get to the Crocodile pond and to our surprise he walks us there! Omar was our awesome tour guide for the day although we did have to pay to get him to the forest. Anyways, the crocodile pool was cool and they had a well laid out museum of sorts with agricultural, war, musical artifacts. We saw the crocodiles but we didn’t get to touch one because they were all in the water. We also get to see this massive silk tree that was a great picture spot. The pool was nice but a bit overpriced if you ask me.
After the pool, it wasn’t quite lunch time yet and Ioana wanted to see the forest because we were going into Banjul tomorrow. So we made the brilliant plan to go to the Bijilo Forest without lunch. Bad planning. First off, it takes a while to get there because Omar takes us on the public transportation which is just vans outfitted with extra seats and no interior. This is fine because it’s cheaper but there’s not really a direct route to the forest. We finally get there and we pay to get into the forest (paying for Omar too) when this scraggly dirty looking man walks up to us. Now at this point Ioana and I had been scammed that morning by a guy in Bakau (where we were staying). He pulled the don’t-you-recognize-me-from-the-hotel skit and brought us to his house and tried to pry money out of us by shamelessly using his kids saying they were orphans. Bullshit and mildly scary. So this guy at the forest comes up to us and starts this big speech about how we have to pay for a tour guide and that you can’t go into the forest without a tour guide and that it’s 300 dalasi. Excuse me? 300 dalasi? Do we look mentally challenged to you? I was furious. After telling him that it’s bullcrap and we don’t have to pay twice that’s not how it works I was ready to physically injure this man. I was hot and hungry and cranky. I literally had to turn my back on him for fear of screaming in his face and causing a big scene. Omar was discussing/fighting with another dude about this and finally after almost leaving they let us in with 100 Dalasi I guess. We start our walk and Omar has the 100 Dalasi in his hand when the tour guide turns around and tells us “ohh yesterday this lovely bird watching couple loved my tour so much they gave me money at the end” yada yada yada. Again a crock of shit but Omar gave him our hundred. Lame. The forest on the other hand was really cool. We got to see monkeys, hyenas, an antelope, the Senegalese parrots, baboons (I know they’re monkeys but they’re different there were some free range monkeys in the forest). The trees were also pretty cool. My favorite was the strangler fig. I can’t explain how it looks to you so you’ll just have to go on facebook once I put photos up. Oh I forgot to mention the guy at the front said this walk would take two hours. I said unacceptable I haven’t eaten lunch yet. We were aiming for like an hour tops. Also why we shouldn’t have to pay 300 extra. The forest was cool but I’ll let my pictures explain.
We finally get out of the bug infested forest ( I had forgotten to wear bug spray which was also a bad life choice) to the road only to wait forever for one of the weird little vans to take us home because Oh yea it’s Sunday and everyone is heading our direction. Everything that drove by was full. I was super ripped at this point because now it was like 4pm. All day without food makes for a grumpy Sammy. Fortunately, we made it back eventually. A slow process at best. And Ioana and I walk down our road to an open bar/restaurant place. Instantly, the man sitting at the bar is trying to seat us and hit on us and marry us. Go away. He doesn’t even work there. Such a tool. Of course while we are sitting there three other foreigners (possibly Australian) come to this place and are absolutely vulgar. They are just the definition of offensive. First off, the youngest who looks about 16 is leading a dog around and at one point says “come here bitch”. Now this wouldn’t have bugged me had all the men not laughed but no they all laughed and probably do the same shit to women. I agree with Ioana, just because the men in Gambia act like vulgar scum doesn’t mean as foreigners it is acceptable to do the same. Ioana and I were less than impressed. The food however was FAAANNNTTTAASTTIICC. So good! Kinda pricey as I found out later. But it was a good dinner. End of day 2.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Pre-Spring Break
Hey Everyone!
I figured I'd write a brief update for all those folks who are reading from back home. Nothing too important has happened since my trip to Toubacouta. It's been two pretty relaxed weeks in Dakar. I'm finally feeling comfortable with the city more than 60% of the time. Now I'm at like 85% settled and happy! It still amazes me that the time passes so quickly and I realize I'm really bad at updating this blog. Lately, I have spent a lot of time at Caesar's, a restaurant in Mermoz, where I can use the wireless. Internet has been crappy the last two weeks so I'll take internet wherever I can get it.
In more news, an update on my classes. As some of you may remember the University went on strike a while ago and I didn't have class for like 2 or 3 weeks. It's only once a week so I didn't feel I was missing much. The strike is finished at IFEE (a part of the university but somewhat autonomous) and I go back to class only to find out that I have a mid-term/final exam type deal. WTF?! I've been to a grand 3 classes and missed several weeks and we have an exam. Cool. Turns out the exam was oral and super easy because the professor doesn't want to be there. I did however receive two questions I couldn't answer fully and kind of made an idiot of myself in front of my classmates. I still speak french better than some of them so I wasn't too embarrassed. I then answered a third question kinda. So between all my bits and pieces I'm sure the professor will give me some random grade.
I then show up to class the following Tuesday. We are reviewing all the test questions. Great! I can learn all that stuff I missed in the beginning of their semester. Then the professor asked if I had taken the exam. How many white girls who mess up that hard on the exam does he have to remember? I mean honestly? So I'm convinced I will get a fully make-believe grade when I'm finished the semester. Yay African education systems! I honestly feel bad for the people who struggle through 4 years of this disorganization. It must take years off their life...well I suppose they never worry about it so I'm sure they're fine.
I have made some realizations about my habits and how they have changed in Dakar. I don't flinch when a car passes me and it's mirror is about an inch away from my arm, I now cross traffic with the full realization that I may get hit but pushing your way through is the only way to get where you're going, I face construction sites like a champ when I shouldn't even be allowed near them, I throw my bus ticket into the wind like everyone else (only because in my conscious American thought process I know paper is biodegradable), I'm entirely too used to the strange groping and rubbing up on folks that is required for my daily bus ride. City life was hard but I suppose if I can face Dakar I can face D.C. this summer.
That's right folks! I'm going to D.C. for the summer to participate in the Fund for American Studies Live Learn Intern program at Georgetown University. I'm pretty excited except that I'm going from the prices of a third world country to the prices of one of the most expensive cities in the U.S. I will cry when I have to pay over a dollar for a bus ride when I pay 30 cents here. I will never take a taxi. Just on principal. It's $3 in Senegal. I don't think you can even sit in a taxi in a U.S. city without paying $2. Life lessons learned!
Since this is my pre-spring break update, I suppose I ought to tell you what I'm doing. I'm going with two fellow friends down to Gambia and stopping in two village/cities on the way back to Dakar. I will be in Bakau, Gambia (just outside the capital) for 4 days. Alice, one of my travel buddies, is going to stay in the little village outside of Toubacouta where we stayed for out trip. She really wanted to return so she arranged that. Me and Ioana, my other travel companion, will continue on to Banjul where we will meet up with a family her Mom here in Dakar knows. We kind of have our own little tour guide set up. I'm super excited for Gambia. There's a crocodile pool, a market, a forest reserve with monkeys, a beach, and our hotel is $23 a night for a double in a private hut and a pool. I love traveling cheap in Africa! Then on Wednesday, after Alice has joined us in Bakau. Her and I will continue to Kaolack, Senegal while Ioana returns to Dakar. Ioana has to be back for her internship but I really wanted to see some other parts of Senegal. Then on Thursday we're off to Touba, the religious hub of the entire country. This is where all the marabouts and mouride brotherhoods are. You should google it. I don't really understand the system entirely myself, but I hear it's a cool place to go. I also think it's somewhere my host family would approve of. Yay! Because I'm pretty sure I got a funny look from my host mom when I told her my travel plans. I couldn't really read her reaction.I hate when that happens!
That's all for now I suppose. Nothing too entertaining but that's the update. Off to Gambia tomorrow! Yay!
I figured I'd write a brief update for all those folks who are reading from back home. Nothing too important has happened since my trip to Toubacouta. It's been two pretty relaxed weeks in Dakar. I'm finally feeling comfortable with the city more than 60% of the time. Now I'm at like 85% settled and happy! It still amazes me that the time passes so quickly and I realize I'm really bad at updating this blog. Lately, I have spent a lot of time at Caesar's, a restaurant in Mermoz, where I can use the wireless. Internet has been crappy the last two weeks so I'll take internet wherever I can get it.
In more news, an update on my classes. As some of you may remember the University went on strike a while ago and I didn't have class for like 2 or 3 weeks. It's only once a week so I didn't feel I was missing much. The strike is finished at IFEE (a part of the university but somewhat autonomous) and I go back to class only to find out that I have a mid-term/final exam type deal. WTF?! I've been to a grand 3 classes and missed several weeks and we have an exam. Cool. Turns out the exam was oral and super easy because the professor doesn't want to be there. I did however receive two questions I couldn't answer fully and kind of made an idiot of myself in front of my classmates. I still speak french better than some of them so I wasn't too embarrassed. I then answered a third question kinda. So between all my bits and pieces I'm sure the professor will give me some random grade.
I then show up to class the following Tuesday. We are reviewing all the test questions. Great! I can learn all that stuff I missed in the beginning of their semester. Then the professor asked if I had taken the exam. How many white girls who mess up that hard on the exam does he have to remember? I mean honestly? So I'm convinced I will get a fully make-believe grade when I'm finished the semester. Yay African education systems! I honestly feel bad for the people who struggle through 4 years of this disorganization. It must take years off their life...well I suppose they never worry about it so I'm sure they're fine.
I have made some realizations about my habits and how they have changed in Dakar. I don't flinch when a car passes me and it's mirror is about an inch away from my arm, I now cross traffic with the full realization that I may get hit but pushing your way through is the only way to get where you're going, I face construction sites like a champ when I shouldn't even be allowed near them, I throw my bus ticket into the wind like everyone else (only because in my conscious American thought process I know paper is biodegradable), I'm entirely too used to the strange groping and rubbing up on folks that is required for my daily bus ride. City life was hard but I suppose if I can face Dakar I can face D.C. this summer.
That's right folks! I'm going to D.C. for the summer to participate in the Fund for American Studies Live Learn Intern program at Georgetown University. I'm pretty excited except that I'm going from the prices of a third world country to the prices of one of the most expensive cities in the U.S. I will cry when I have to pay over a dollar for a bus ride when I pay 30 cents here. I will never take a taxi. Just on principal. It's $3 in Senegal. I don't think you can even sit in a taxi in a U.S. city without paying $2. Life lessons learned!
Since this is my pre-spring break update, I suppose I ought to tell you what I'm doing. I'm going with two fellow friends down to Gambia and stopping in two village/cities on the way back to Dakar. I will be in Bakau, Gambia (just outside the capital) for 4 days. Alice, one of my travel buddies, is going to stay in the little village outside of Toubacouta where we stayed for out trip. She really wanted to return so she arranged that. Me and Ioana, my other travel companion, will continue on to Banjul where we will meet up with a family her Mom here in Dakar knows. We kind of have our own little tour guide set up. I'm super excited for Gambia. There's a crocodile pool, a market, a forest reserve with monkeys, a beach, and our hotel is $23 a night for a double in a private hut and a pool. I love traveling cheap in Africa! Then on Wednesday, after Alice has joined us in Bakau. Her and I will continue to Kaolack, Senegal while Ioana returns to Dakar. Ioana has to be back for her internship but I really wanted to see some other parts of Senegal. Then on Thursday we're off to Touba, the religious hub of the entire country. This is where all the marabouts and mouride brotherhoods are. You should google it. I don't really understand the system entirely myself, but I hear it's a cool place to go. I also think it's somewhere my host family would approve of. Yay! Because I'm pretty sure I got a funny look from my host mom when I told her my travel plans. I couldn't really read her reaction.I hate when that happens!
That's all for now I suppose. Nothing too entertaining but that's the update. Off to Gambia tomorrow! Yay!
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Sammy's big weekend out!
This entry is to tell y’all about my lovely trip to Toubacouta and the little village of Keur Moussa just south of Toubacouta. The trip was four days from Thursday to Sunday and it was exhausting but a lot of fun!
We started out at the bright and sunny hour of 8am at WARC. Alison and I shared a taxi from Ouakam to the research center. Once everyone arrived, we all hurried (and I do mean HURRIED) to the bus so we could avoid getting the obnoxious fold down seats in the center of the van. I found a window seat with the tire well jutting into my personal space but hey it wasn’t the middle seat. So let me tell you about our drive. Now in most parts of the world the drive is smooth and lulls you to sleep. NOT in Senegal. The roads are about as reliable as the electricity. There were times when the sand next to the road was preferred over the pavement. Besides that, there was also stop and go traffic all the way out of the city. Public bathrooms along the trip were also interesting. Gas stations had bathrooms but they weren’t usually pretty and one almost ate Jess alive by locking her in. Luckily she’s like MacGyver with a hair clip! That sums up the drive. Long and rocky.
Finally we reach our lunch destination, Sokone. This is where Professor Sène’s family lives. We went to his house for lunch (Chebujen – google it folks it’s the national dish of Senegal) and some dancing. The meal was great and we got to try the fruit that grows with Cashews. I’m not a big fan of them because the texture was a bit weird but essentially they look like mini bell peppers. The dancing was fun and the funniest part was that the women use shotgun shells as finger covers to play their bowl-like instruments. I thought that was super interesting and pretty funny especially since I bet my fingers would get stuck. Chunky fingers. I danced a bit, looked like a fool. We also got to use real civilized bathrooms. Very nice.
Off we go again into the deep sandy yonder. I forget what time we checked into the hotel but it was later than planned as is everything else in Senegal. We stayed at a really nice hotel called Kairaba (you can google this too! www.clubdevacanceskairaba.com) . It had nice huts for everyone to stay in with a TV and a bathroom and a functioning shower! The shower was my favorite part. I thought my favorite part would be the pool but there was a LOT of straight up bleach in the pool and two bees nests in opposing corners. There were two gazebo type things. One where we check in and can sit at some tables and one that counts as the dining area/restaurant. I got to room with Alison and Jozy. We made good roomies. The three beds were a bit close together so I have a few bruises from kicking them and such but hey they were good beds either way. We took a short walk around Toubacouta. We got to get our first look at the mangroves. Then a surprise! Let’s just say I was less than impressed with this surprise…the van left us all in the town and we took dirt bike/motorcycles back to the hotel. I had no choice parents! I know Kara would have been proud but I was terrified. I do not like going in or on any vehicle without a roll cage involved. It was fun and I kept my eyes open most of the time. I was also ready to take a digger at any moment. I got back safe and sound and it was kind of fun to be at the back of the pack and watch our funny little motorcycle gang of toubabs. Our dinner started off with a really good shrimp salad type deal and I think after that it was Yassa Poulet but I don’t remember the main meal. The best part was the fruit salad in yogurt after dinner! So good! Then off we go again.
At 9pm we left for le lute traditionnelle! If you want to see exactly what this is you should google wrestling and Senegal. I don’t even know how to start. We show up to this ring of people with one bright flood light and LOTS of men. There were women there too but the first thing I noticed is the amount of men. There are wrestlers dressed in ridiculous diaper type deals which look like they cause a man to become sterile. Wedgie of the century folks. The fighting was pretty cool. They did wrestle into the crowd a couple times. Almost into me a few times. The funniest time this happened was to Karla. The look on her face was priceless and although it shouldn’t be funny it was kinda funny. Unfortunately, the fights went on WAAAYYYY longer than we all cared to watch. We were cold and very tired after a full day of travel and activity. Waly lied and told us we would leave at midnight but we were so close to the final fight that we stayed. There was a dance competition in there too which was so cute. The boys thought they were the hottest thang and the women would throw their scarves in to them! Oh it’s such a spectacle the whole fight and the dancing. It was really amazing. So instead of midnight it was more like 1:15am that I got to bed. Honestly I don’t remember exactly what time but it was freakin late. That’s all you need to know.
Friday – 8:15am wakeup call! Yay for sleep deprived toubabs! We start off with breakfast. Bread and jam and chocolate sauce and butter. Pretty much bread and anything you could put on it. Then there was real milk! I got so excited then I realized it was hot milk…gross. Not sure it was real but it tasted real. I had it as hot chocolate. Milk and Nesquick! Yep they had nesquick! How weird. This morning we are off to the mangroves! Super cool. We start by touring where they dry the fish out and where the women cook the oysters. They aren’t exactly the kind of oysters I’ve ever seen in my life. Refer to my pictures on facebook. It was really cool because they had huge piles of oyster shell everywhere which they use for paint and things like that once they are crushed down. There is an environmental problem in the mangroves where they are cutting the whole root of the mangrove trees to get the oysters. This is a problem because it kills the mangroves. Instead, there is a project there to show them the proper ways to harvest and protect the mangrove. If memory serves me right I think this is the only government protected environmental site. It is illegal to harvest in many parts. We then took boats through all the trees and rivers. Unfortunately, Imani and Waly’s cameras both fell into the water at the bottom of the boat. Waly’s survived after rice treatment but Imani’s didn’t. One concerning note however…there was a boy scooping water out of the bottom of our boat the whole time. Not a very well constructed boat. It was a fun ride and the weather was perfect. Our boat lead some singing and shenanigans. And when people went pee there was a HUGE super cool lizard in the trees. I don’t think I got a good picture so that’s too bad but it’s still cool.
Lunch is served…really late. Yassa poulet definitely for lunch and it was really good. I enjoyed my lunch a lot. After lunch we had a Djembé and dance lesson at the hotel. A professional group who travels through Senegal came and showed us how to play this type of drum and two women showed us how to dance. It was fun and it was good to get some exercise! Kinda stretches you out after a day in the van and the next day in a boat. We got sandwiches to tide us over until our late dinner and headed out to see the troupe play in town. The show was really interesting. There were women dressed in men’s clothing who started off the night with their dances. They pulled us up to dance with them. They went around shaking our hands after that. One woman kept repeating photo to me and I didn’t get it. Finally I was like a photo with me?? Hence why I have a photo with a woman dressed all funny on facebook. She then wanted to be best friends and gave me a very soggy kiss on the cheek. It was cute though. Then the djembés started and the dance group began to dance. They had some really interesting dances and it’s not totally different than the stuff they brought you too in middle school at the Flynn theater in Burlington but it’s different because I’m actually in Africa. There was fire breathing and acrobatics and a guy on stilts. All of this seemed to be for us toubabs and a bit like a carnival. It was a lot of fun. I was also really tired once again. Two LONG LONG days in a row. We got back to the hotel and had dinner around 9:30ish. We started with some shrimp filled fried thing which was good. Then we had fish and mashed potatos of sorts. I didn’t eat the fish but I LOVED the mashed potato deal! I was so excited. It’s my favorite comfort food. We had the option to go to another lutte in the village but we were all tired. I went to bed after dinner and had the worst dream every. I had the most vivid dream of a house burning down…anyways that’s getting off topic. Although it is spooky that Ballard’s, a store from my home town, had burnt down the night before. I found that out on Sunday when I got back and read my email. Kinda spooky.
Anywho. Saturday was a serious change from the modern comforts of a cozy hotel to the real world of a small Senegalese village. Now when I say small I mean you can see all the houses. They are all centered around the mosque. These are the huts and houses you read about in National Geographic. Waly was born in the village so it was really cool to see how they received him with our huge group. It was also reassuring because it means he knows all the families. We left the hotel at 9am and drove south towards the village. On our way, each student bought bread as a gift for our village host family since they can’t make bread in the village and it is a long walk to get it. I think we got there around 10:30. There was a large group there to greet us. At first it was all women and children, but then some men joined the group as well. We danced once again with the women and children. A large group of children had to go back to school after the dancing. I was the first to get a family! I was a little shocked for some reason lol. After a few words with the chief woman and the chief man of the village, Waly told me I would be staying with the woman who is the leading lady of the village. I don’t know how to spell her name but I think it was something like Anta Chiop? I grabbed my backpack off the bus and three bottles of water from Korka and off I went. My first thought was that this was going to be a LOONGGG day and it was going to drag. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
My host mom lead me around their house. It was a cement structure that was fairly well built. It had a front stoop surrounded by about five rooms. She showed me where to put my stuff. Then she gave me a tour of the shower area and the toilet. Now by toilet I really mean a hole in the ground. At a young age I was traumatized from peeing outside or by squatting. On a trip back from the drag races with my dad and brother, I tried to pee outside and didn’t quite get the concept because I was pretty little. I peed on myself and have not been a fan of peeing outside ever since. I must also say that there was really nothing to lean against which makes this twice as hard. My method was to just sit on the damn cement. F*** it. And yes I used toilet paper. Totally biodegradable. Moving on….
Let me try and explain the “family” dynamic here. I had my host mom and there were two little girls and a teenage girl at first. There soon popped up several little boys and a baby girl with a name that sounded like Georgia. That’s the only name I really remember besides my host moms. There then was another woman about my host mom’s age and an older gentleman which I was told is my host dad. I figured out, and believe I am correct, that this is my host dad and these two women are his wives and these kids are their many kids. There is also another couple who live in a house in our complex of sorts. Her name sounded like Sona? She did most of the cooking which took most of the day.
I started out with introductions and such. Then Sona got me to help her cook. First we went to the field with something like a paint can with a hole cut in the side. She put a large stick (it looks like a giant cotton swab if cotton swabs were wood) into the can and shoved some wheat/hay looking stuff around it. This made an L shaped path between the hole in the top and the hole in the side. To cook, you shove burning wood into the hole in the side and the fire rises up the makeshift shaft. Me being terrified of fire wasn’t too fond of this method but it works. We cooked chebujen. Fried the fish, cooked the rice. I didn’t help with all of it because every now and then the family would pull me away to introduce me to someone or take a walk around the village. Lunch was good and simple. The men ate off one plate and the women off another. They tried to hand be a spoon but I told them “Begg naa lekke loxo” = I want to eat with my hands. I’m only in the village once so why not? Everything else was already so unsanitary I couldn’t see it getting much worse. They did have a bowl of water to wash our hands in and they gave me soap to wash my hands after the meal. I took a walk around the village. There was a large group of our students in back of one of the houses preparing a HUGE amount of food. We later found out it was for a wedding reception of sorts? Then I was told to go home and help cook. I sit at home for a while and help cut up onion. Dangerous without a cutting board let me tell you. As we are chilling in the front yard Sona catches a chicken, ties it’s feet and shoves it under a bucket. The chicken had been bugging some stuff so I figured that was why they put it under the bucket. Then they do this to a second chicken…it all starts to make sense to me now.
My dinner is now thrashing under said bucket. Lovely. Even better yet I got to pluck them once they were boiled a bit. Plucking the chicken isn’t bad. If I picked it up its head would kinda wiggle and the stuff in its neck would stretch out. Yucky. I also wasn’t too keen on picking their butt feathers. Just sayin. I don’t want anything to do with chicken butt. I also got to watch Sona peel the chicken feet. Yep I ate chicken feet meat folks. Not half bad if I do say so myself. As we’re plucking chickens the children are helping…mostly. They tore the heads off the chickens and plucked the heads so I didn’t have to. Then the small boy tried to eat the raw neck innards. That’s a no-no. Thank god I know how to say no in Wolof. Did I mention these families only speak Wolof? No French. Very difficult day as far as language goes. Anywho, I then get to help Sona cut the chicken up and I watch her rip out the not-to-be-eaten parts of the chicken. This whole time I’m thinking: as much as I loathed bird class with Prof Witmer at least I got to dissect a pigeon as a precursor to this interesting ordeal. And I was even able to identify the majority of the parts! Yay me! And I never thought bird class would come in handy.
After chicken innards, I got to wash an extraordinary and irritating amount of lettuce. This took forever and there were lots of bugs involved. I’m glad we washed the lettuce twice but it was a damn tedious process. No one helped me with that but I was glad I could help Sona. She had done the majority of this cooking on her own all day with just the help of me and a few of the kids. Also cooking in their cooking hut was a little piece of hell. When she fried the fish for chebujen I near about died from smoke inhalation and my eyes were burning. I was so thankful she cooked the chicken for dinner outside. I couldn’t stand cooking in that hut. So dark descends and it’s about 8:30ish and we eat dinner. It’s lettuce with chicken and onion sauce. It was really good and I enjoyed having the salad. The family is so funny they kept saying “lekkal lekkal lekkal” which is the imperative form for eat. Eat! Eat! Eat! I was fairly certain I was going to explode or turn into a head of lettuce. Jen and her host mom wandered into the complex and soon after that it was family meeting time!
The students got together in a group with Waly and Korka. We had some fruit over an interesting conversation about our families. I didn’t have any concerns but simply a question of whether or not the families were coached not to ask for our numbers. There was one boy about 18 years old who kept making underhanded comments about other students who had visited and how they had left their numbers written on the wall of the house (which is their version of a rolodex). He spoke French though so that was a nice break from the brick wall that is Wolof. Other people had some concerns but nothing major. I think it was a lot to take in all at once for all of us. I guess I can’t speak for others but it was a great learning experience but also very exhausting.
After the family meeting we went back to my village house for all the women and children and students to dance again. I think we might have been the only house with electricity? There were rumors that other houses were getting or had solar panels. I thought that was really nifty that they have solar panels. We can’t even implement them in the U.S. but these village folks are doing just fine with them. Anyways, we were all tired and some people were feeling sick so the night didn’t last too long. We kicked up some serious dust and called it a night.
So my host house had rather large beds and I knew they had to be shared. I shared mine with the teenage girl in the family. Nana if you thought I was a violent sleeper you should have tried to sleep next to this girl. (My Nana always told me I kick a lot when I sleep over at her house as have other friends I’ve had to share beds with). This girl was like 5’10” and all skin and bones but she was bound and determined to take up the whole damn bed! I got in first and chose the edge which was the worst possible idea in the world! She would roll over and smack me, she’d kick me. One time I got an elbow to the face and then I almost got shoved off the edge! It was also really cold and she was a blanket hog. Good thing I’m pretty much equal to her at blanket hogging it up. So it wasn’t the most restful night of sleep but it wasn’t the worst either.
Breakfast was some questionable couscous stuff. Not like the couscous you’re thinking of. This stuff is like eating sand. Not very tasty either. We had some peanut type sauce on it which was a nice touch but nothing can make sandy couscous jazz taste good. The most exciting part of my morning was the REAL MILK fresh from the cow. Thank Allah for cows in the village! I am so sick of this powdered milk bullshit at home. I was thrilled to have real milk and they gave me like 3 glasses of it AND it didn’t make me sick…as far as I know.
As I was getting ready to change and head for the bus, my family surprised me with a lovely gift. They had me change into traditional clothing and I thought it was just to take pictures of me. These people loved taking pictures and having pictures taken. They were just tickled pink with my camera at their disposal. I say I am going to Dakar today because that’s the only way I can manage to say I need to change before I leave but they say it’s okay. I asked if it is a present in French. I ask “cadeau”? and they just sort of repeated me so I think that’s what they meant. They gave me a skirt and shirt that are white and green. They are a little tattered and the shirt was WAAAYY too tight over my boobs but it is a really sweet gift. They really have nothing to give and they gave me these clothes. I thought it was great. I did change on the bus though because I couldn’t really take full breaths my boobs were squished so tight. I’ll have to have my tailor fix that up. Maybe he can insert some fabric into the side seams. Off we go to the bus.
The bus ride was so long. It took literally all day to get back to Dakar. Well first we stopped at the gardens for the village we were just in. They have these gardens along the edge of the river. They eat some of the goods grown there but they sell most of them. It was interesting enough to stop quickly. Then we went to the Gambian border because we were already right there. It was good to see this because I’m going to Gambia for spring break. I got a feel for the amount of harassment I will get and where to check into the country and get a short term visa or whatnot. I was super tired at this point. We went on our way to Kaolack for lunch which was yassa poulet…again. It was good but I’m pretty sick of yassa poulet at this point. It was also good to see a nice restaurant in Kaolack since I will be there one night during spring break as well. Then all the way back to Dakar. The car rapide home was a crock of shit since the guy shorted us our change. He must have thought we were tourists with all our bags. He was a jerk about it but I think we were all too tired to fight to hard. I came home and stopped by the tailor. He finished my dress!!!! I had bought fabric at the social forum and found a faux wrap dress picture I like. He did a good job and it was a nice little treat to end my weekend. I promptly showered as soon as I got let into my damn house which took forever too because my host sister was in the shower and Muhammad wouldn’t open the damn door. I felt so gross…I took a shower and washed my hair and unpacked. It feels good to be home but it was also a really cool trip.
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