Mama Soso

Friday we learned cultural immersion techniques at The Baobab Center. The Senegalese have their own set of superstitions, eating manners, and social hierarchies. One should not give out compliments such as, "I like your scarf," because then if that scarf is lost, the complimented person will accuse the complimenter of being a witch. One does not count things, and one would not even think of pointing at anything. It is considered rude to not properly greet each person in a room. The matron is considered the life force of a family; to insult one's mother is the worst insult of all. Also, it is rude to directly say no to a person. For instance, if someone tries to sell something to you while you are walking down the street, you should say, "Bal ma ko, ba baneen," which means, "please excuse me, next time."

And then there is the intricate process of eating. Because we had been in dorms since Sunday, we had not gotten the true Senegalese eating experience. Most families eat communally, which means they sit in a circle and eat from the same giant bowl. They do not use utensils (typically) and since it is rude to put forth a left hand, one must eat solely with his or her right hand. Considering what is in the bowl - rice, vegetables, sauce, and meat - eating with one hand is quite difficult. In order to practice this eating technique, The Baobab Center made us a typical communal meal. Although I didn't have to worry about picking apart a fish or chicken with one hand, I still could not find a way to eat that wouldn't result in rice and sauce all over my face. I also was not too keen on eating from the same bowl that other people had stuck their hands in. Portion sizes are huge here, and we were forewarned that our host mothers will try to feed us an extreme amount of food. The ideal female body in Senegal is a big, curvaceous one (unlike the United States). That said, we were also forewarned that our host mothers may compliment us if we gain weight. People do not drink water during meals here because it hinders one's ability to eat more food. I found this particularly funny, because in the US we are encouraged to drink a lot of water during a meal to prevent overeating.

Eating mannerisms can show how a group of people truly interact... In societies where people eat from their own plates, such as in the US, the culture is geared towards the individual. In places where communal eating takes place, all focus is put on the family as a whole. "Family" in this sense is not limited to those of biological relation, but also friends, neighbors, and even visitors.

Anyway, I knew this adjustment in cultures would be very difficult for me. I prefer to be on my own, and I have been relatively independent for a long time. So, I was quite nervous when Alain, the housing coordinator, called me to his office to inform me of my housing assignment. Most students requested large families, but the thought of trying to remember all those names intimidated me very much so. Large families are typically very formal, and the last thing I want to do is offend anyone. I ended up very happy with my placement, in the local neighborhood, Marmoz, with a woman called Mama Soso (short for Josephine).

After The Baobab Center, all of us students packed up our stuff and left the dorms. As I waited for Mama Soso to pick me up, I saw more and more students leave with their host families. Finally, I saw a woman wearing a large, colorful bubu (the matching skirt and shirt, traditional Senegalese attire) who asked for Rebecca. I held out my right hand for a handshake, but instead she took my hand, pulled me towards her, and gave me a kiss on each cheek and a big hug.

After hearing and almost perfectly understanding French in orientation sessions and at The Baobab Center, I was feeling very confident in my speaking abilities. But then we arrived at Mama Soso's house, where my confidence rapidly fell. She speaks very quickly and throws Wolof into her French (that is common here), so I currently understand less than half of what she says. I know that with time that will change, but I need to learn how to be patient with myself. Anyway, I just wore a smile and nodded, which was followed by a spell of laughter from her. I don't think I have ever met a friendlier person than Mama Soso. She told me she is used to hosting vegetarians (I am her ninth student), and I can come and go as I please. A huge weight lifted off my shoulders; I can retain my "liberté."

For dinner that night she made me a giant plate of carrots, tomatoes, green peppers, hard boiled eggs, and rice. I thought that the plate was for the two of us, but it was actually all for me. She insisted I eat the entire plate over and over again: "Tu vas bien manger ici!" (Translation: You will eat well here!) Thankfully we ate with utensils from our own plates. Lunch at The Baobab Center was enough of a Senegalese dining experience for me! She showed me the rest of her house, which consists of two bedrooms (one is hers, one is mine), a kitchen, a bathroom, and a living room. There is a small front yard and backyard, but it is all concrete and fenced in. Although most families here are Muslim, Mama Soso is very Catholic... There is a large framed picture of the Pope right above her table, along with pictures of Jesus and the Virgin Mary everywhere as well. There is also another woman, Elizabeth, who is currently living with Mama Soso. Elizabeth was introduced to me as my sister, but I soon learned that she is an English teacher in The Gambia and will be leaving in three weeks. I try to speak as much French as possible with Elizabeth, but it is good to know that for now there is someone who speaks English who I can fall back on. In the first night, I must have looked very overwhelmed, because Elizabeth kept asking me, "Ca va?" or, "Are you okay?" My room has an armoire where I can lock my valuables and a bed with a mosquito net over it. There is a screened window, although it does not provide much air flow. I knew that the house would not have AC, but unfortunately it does not have any fans. There aren't any mirrors in the house, which is a good and bad thing. I also did not understand how to work the toilet, so that was a somewhat awkward question to ask Mama Soso. After learning that some people do not even have toilets in their houses, I am very thankful for the existence of the bathroom in my house.

I do not understand how, but the house seems to trap heat inside it, so that it is cooler outside than inside. Saturday felt like the longest day of my life as I sat inside the house and felt like I was being baked alive. I managed to drink 4 liters of water in a span of 36 hours; I sweated more than I thought was humanly possible. Mama Soso and Elizabeth walked around in nothing but towels for the majority of the day, hopping in and out of the shower as they sought necessary. I tried to read my current book, One Hundred Years of Solitude, but my brain did not seem to function. Suddenly, Mama Soso, completely dressed and composed, told me that we were leaving. I was a sweaty mess, but I put on my shoes and followed her out the door, not having any clue where she was leading me. We walked a few blocks and then hopped on a "car rapide," which is a form of public transportation that nobody would condone in the States. Essentially it is a small van that is filled with at least twelve people at a time. We got off the car rapide and went to a house, which I assumed to be a friend's house. We went inside a dark room, where Soso and her friend conversed in Wolof for about an hour. Then they said their good-byes and we were off to another friend's house, but this friend did not happen to be home. We hopped on another car rapide back to Mermoz. Elizabeth and Soso were surprised when I told them I was going to bed around 10:30 p.m. (I honestly do not understand when they sleep). I have never had a more difficult time sleeping than I did on Saturday night. I was so hot, lying in a pool of my own sweat. My cotton sheets were soon soaked, and cotton is probably the worst fabric to get sweaty. People were chanting in the mosque down the street past two in the morning, and it was not a rhythmic sound that can lull one to sleep - it was a sporadic type of chanting that only kept me awake. A few hours later the sun rose and I heard a cacophony of roosters announcing the day had begun. A little while after that, the Mosque sounded the call to prayer and people began chanting again.

For as little sleep as I got Saturday night, I was quite alert on Sunday. Reunited with my fellow students, we had a scavenger hunt in downtown Dakar. We finished early, so we went to the beach that afternoon. I probably walked a collective ten miles in the afternoon heat, and I was so exhausted that I had no problem sleeping the next night.

"Bonjour les Toubabs!"

"Toubab" is a Wolof term for a white person (or a tourist in general). Many Senegalese people think that all Toubabs are wealthy, so it is typical to have many people, kids especially, come up to us and try to sell us things or ask for money. Apparently it is common here for Senegalese men to try to marry white women so that they can get green cards or a free trip to the United States or Europe. I had no idea that even smiling at the wrong people could end in trouble. Thankfully I learned this before venturing downtown by myself. For the first time ever, I am in a country where I am the minority, not to mention an object of attention. Needless to say, it is a very eye-opening experience.

Last night we watched a documentary called Democracy in Dakar that demonstrated Senegal's trials and tribulations through its hip hop industry. Senegal transitioned to a democracy in 2000 after decades of socialism. With the election of President Wade, the Senegalese were filled with hope that poverty would be resolved and infrastructure would grow. After a few years, most Senegalese found themselves in an even worse situation in the new democracy than they were under socialism. As of 2007, the unemployment rate in Senegal was over 50%. Many people have tried to flee the country on tiny boats to immigrate to Europe, but few are actually successful.

On a more positive note, everything is still going well for me. Tomorrow is the last day of orientation and the first day with our host families! I also got a piece of fruit today with dinner, which is the first piece of fruit I've eaten in days. At least I am getting a lot of vegetables, as the cafeteria here has accommodated to the vegetarian crowd quite nicely. I've started to adjust really well to my surroundings here in the dorms, so I hope that it will be smooth sailing with a host family. Things that bothered me on day one, such as the general smell of things or tiny colony of ants living in the dorm room, barely phase me now, after just a few days. The style of dress is also different here; people do not wear clothing above their knees, although showing shoulders is not a problem. Things are a little more conservative than usual because it is currently Ramadan. I must say that it is actually nice wearing longer skirts and dresses all the time.

There is one exception to the conservative dress rule: the beach. A bunch of us have gone to the beach pretty much every day now, and people treat beaches here pretty much the same as they do in the US. The water is a little dirty, but it is not cold in the least bit. In order to get to the beach, one must essentially walk/hike down this cliff (getting back up is not that much fun). It makes me feel like I'm in the wilderness for a split second though, so I like it.

We picked our classes today. I will be taking a French grammar/oral expression class, a beginning Wolof class, règlement des crises (an international law class), societé et culture sénégalaise, and an internship seminar class that will be paired with an internship one day a week. I have no idea what that internship will be just yet, but I hope to find that out soon. One great thing about the class schedule is that there is a two and a half hour block for lunch, giving me plenty of time to eat lunch with my host family on a daily basis. Africa time is much less rigid than American time, so it is common for us to have multiple breaks per class (or orientation session) along with a lunch break of at least two hours. I could get used to this veryyy easily.

Je vois les Baobabs!!!

A Baobab tree, the symbol for Senegal, is a pretty cool sight to see. Their trunks are huge; I'm told that there is a Baobab to the east of Dakar that supports an entire house in its branches. The Baobabs remind me of the book Le Petit Prince, because the little prince mentions that his planet was consumed by Baobabs... although that probably makes little to no sense to anyone who has not read that book.

Anyway, one of my larger concerns before coming to Senegal was my dietary situation. I've been a vegetarian for almost ten years, and a vegan for a while too. Sadly, I abandoned my veganism in the name of studying abroad, but I seriously cannot eat meat. Thankfully, I have had some great vegetarian food since coming here. The Senegalese eat an extreme amount of carbs, as rice and/or bread is incorporated into every meal. I seriously am missing fruit, which is not commonplace in the Senegalese diet. Yesterday I had some kind of stir fry involving corn, pineapple, onions, and carrots, which I mixed with rice. Tonight I had some dish resembling ratatouille mixed with cous cous (I'm told that there is a large Lebanese population here). Breakfast usually consists of bread and nutella, along with coffee. People drink a lot of coffee here, although it is not regular brewed coffee, but instant coffee. After being rather jet-lagged, nothing looked better than a nice cup of instant coffee.

I must admit that I am rather relieved to be leaving many conviences of the first world. I do not have an iPhone to give me internet access anywhere at anytime, nor is there a Starbucks anywhere for miles (as far as I know). There is air conditioning in the dorms and the classrooms though.

Today we began our Wolof classes. The Wolof professor does not really speak English, so we are being taught this completely foreign language in French. It is pretty great (for lack of a better word) actually, as it really reinforces my knowledge of French. We also took a French placement test today, the first French grammar test I've taken in over a year. We had a security orientation, where we were taught to part with our purses if confronted with a machete. Also, I need to be sure to stay away from the "Baye Fall," a.k.a. Senegalese hippies.

Although my grammar is not too stellar, French in general is becoming easier to understand, even if this is only my third day in Senegal. I've heard so much French in the past few days that I have started to think in French, which is kind of maddening. Hopefully it all pays off.

I will try to post pictures as soon as possible, but unfortunately my camera is obstinate and does not like to take non-blurry pictures.

À toute à l'heure!

Je suis arrivée au Sénégal

And so my adventure begins...

My trip to Senegal had a somewhat rocky start, as I completely mixed up what time my flight was supposed to leave. For some reason, I thought the flight left at 5:30 in the morning, when really it didn't leave until nine. Thankfully I figured this out the night before. As I arrived in Reagan National Airport, I was upset to find out that my bag weighed 65 lbs... so I managed to fit 15 extra lbs of stuff in my carry-on. I arrived at JFK, where I had a seven-hour layover. I could slowly feel insanity set in as I dragged my extremely heavy carry-on around the terminal, trying to pass the time.

I noticed cultural differences between the United States and Senegal even before leaving JFK. As I was trying to stow my super heavy carry-on in the over head compartment on the plane, I apologized to the man waiting behind me for taking so long. He told me to take my time and smiled, which I found surprising, because most Americans would be rolling their eyes and staring me down for making them wait. I had the entire row to myself on the plane, so I stretched out across three seats and slept the majority of the plane ride.

The landing was a bit harrowing. During some very severe turbulence, we were told three separate times that we were in the final descent. At four in the morning, we walked off the plane and into a thunderstorm. The study abroad program staff told us that it was extremely likely that our luggage would be lost or delayed prior to our departure, but thankfully mine came. I almost got trapped in a bathroom stall in the airport, which was rather frightening, but I managed to open the door.

The CIEE (study abroad program) staff picked us up at the airport and brought us to the Suffolk University Dakar dorms, where we will be staying this week. As we were walking into the dorms, I heard the Muslim call to prayer. It is currently Ramadan, so most people in Dakar are fasting from sunrise to sunset. I intended to sleep for just an hour or so, but when I woke up, my clock read 1:30 p.m. After sleeping a collective 13 hours (including the plane), I felt very refreshed, and went on a walk to the beach with another student. Afterwards, we went to see a giant Mosque that is also on the beach.

Dakar is absolutely beautiful, and in many ways a city I would never picture in Africa. Most people wear Western clothes and I saw many BMWs and Mercedes walking along one of the roads. Advertisements and billboards for cell phones and other stores are on many street corners. Most roads are paved, although the land itself is very muddy since it is the rainy season here. Palm trees line the streets and big, tropical flowers sprout up here and there. The weather is hot and humid during the day, but after being in D.C. all summer, it doesn't feel too much different. Tonight the weather is cooler, although I'm told it often rains at night. In many ways I do not even feel like I'm in a developing country, let alone an African city. There is a lot of garbage scattered around the ground, but that is the only negative aspect of the city I have seen thus far.

People speak a mixture of French and Wolof here, and some speak a little English. Although I'm confident with my French, I cannot wait to be immersed in it, so I can improve all the more. I will also be learning Wolof. Hopefully by the end of the semester I will be trilingual! The title of this blog, "Salaamaalekum" is a standard Wolof greeting. Expect to see bits of all three languages in the entries to come!