Gamou

So apparently today is Prophet Muhammad's birthday ("Gamou"), which means half my family left to wherever their respective Marabout and/or brotherhood summoned them to celebrate. I'm a little fuzzy on the details, but it seems like my family has scattered to both Tivaouane and Kaolack for celebrations, so it's been relatively quiet around the house lately.

People here in Dakar seem to have been celebrating all day as well. Walking down the street on the way to my internship this morning, Rebecca and I saw two bulls tied to a fence. Though I definitely noticed that they were there, I didn't think much of it since we see all sorts of animals chilling on the streets on a day-to-day basis (stray dogs, stray cats, cart-pulling horses, spotted goats, non-fluffy sheep, etc.). Several hours later, when we were walking back down the street after our internship was over, blood was running down the road and men were in the process of butchering up the meat. The one time I didn't have a camera with me! Anyway, there were all of these tents around Dakar for the celebrations, and I can still hear people eating, singing and celebrating now, at 4am. Only in Senegal :)

Wedding

Family griot singing/entertaining

The bride finally arrives and the house is crazy crowded

People sitting around wearing their gorgeous fabrics

The bride's family sending off food to the celebration at the groom's family. The bride's family and friends and the groom's family and friends each have their separate celebrations at their own houses.

My sisters and me in our Senegalese finest!

Before I forget, I wanted to write a post about the wedding I went to last weekend. It was definitely a huge privilege to be invited to go see something like that, and I was super excited to borrow my sister's clothes and finally wear a Senegalese outfit for the first time, and watch the ceremony with my family. I loved all the beautiful clothes and jewelry that people had on, and meeting people and seeing people interact with each other was awesome. In the end, though, I definitely had mixed feelings about the whole ordeal.

First off, there's a lot of sitting around and waiting. At first, I didn't know what we were waiting for, so I sat around with the others and chilled with my family for several hours. Finally, the bride came, gorgeous in a white dress and perfectly coiffed hair and perfectly applied makeup, and I was excited to see how the ceremony would commence. There was a lot of commotion when she came, with people clamoring to get a good glimpse of her, and she went around greeting people and chatting. (I found out later that she was going to be the third wife of her husband, which is a whole other post altogether.) Then, as quickly as she came, she left. And then we waited around for several more hours. It wasn't really a party, per se, since there was no food, drinks, dancing or music (except the random bursts of music that the griots played), but a lot of sitting and chatting/not chatting with the people around you.

Secondly, the griots. Now, I realize that the griots have an important role in West African traditions. They are the praise singers, musicians, political commentators, and in general have expertise in the oral tradition of West Africa. Many large Senegalese families have their own family griots who know the family's lineage, history and ancestors extremely well and sing praise songs in honor of the family. During the wedding, the griots sang beautiful songs and played music in honor of the celebration. However, my sister told me that though a couple of the griots at the wedding were invited specifically by the family, many of the griots that came had just heard about the wedding through word-of-mouth and came to make a quick buck. And that's definitely what seemed to happen. I didn't really understand the whole concept of the griot at the wedding, and so when two of them came up to me, started saying something in Wolof and then demanded money from me, I felt pretty trapped. Afterward, when the musicians were jamming with their traditional instruments, I made the mistake of smiling at one of them to show how much I was enjoying it, and the griot came up to me and basically said, "You're so pretty! Give me money, I'm a griot!" So as much as I enjoyed being able to experience something I've never seen before, I felt pretty uncomfortable for the whole time trying not to make further eye-contact with anyone who would ask me for money.

My sisters and I ended up leaving before the bride came back (which was when the reception was supposed to start), and we were still there for 7 hours, sitting around and waiting. From what I hear, Senegalese weddings can go on like that for days and days, which in my opinion, sounds more fun for the family and friends than for the bride. Griots and waiting aside, I felt lucky to be able to see such an interesting Senegalese event, and I feel like I better understand the nature of marriages and families here. When someone gets married, they're not just getting married to the individual, they get married to a whole family. And when women get married, it's the transitional mark from living at home with her parents to living in a completely different household, including the groom's parents, siblings, their spouses and their kids. In any case, I wish the couple all the best and I'm just grateful that I got to be there to see it happen.

Spring Break Plans

It's been hard writing another post lately, mostly because I've been chewing on so much lately. After a series of long, frustrating conversations about polygamy with one of my brothers, and a series of exhausting interactions with Senegalese men, it was hard for me to come to a place where I wasn't constantly thinking and critiquing something about Senegal. I missed being wide-eyed in love with everything around me, but I think I am at the point in the time abroad process when I'm finally beginning to better understand the complexities of the world I'm living in in a much more honest way. And I still love chilling with the bros, eating around the bowl and jang Wolof so life is still pretty damn great.

This Sunday I'm leaving for our spring break to the Cassamance, in Cap Skiring. It's supposed to have the most beautiful beaches in Senegal, and the best part is that we're taking a charter flight there and back for next-to-nothing and staying gratuit at the resort (at Les Alizes) through one of our friends. I'm grateful to have chill time on the beach, but I'm even more excited to spend a day in Djembering, which is less than half an hour north of Cap Skiring, and is the village where my host family is from. I got some contacts from my brothers so someone can show us around while we're there, and I'm being sent with a big bag of presents to bring to the family while I'm visiting. So excited to see a different side of Senegal - palm trees, palm wine, beaches, and an apparently more relaxed, nicer side.

Since we're coming back so early (Thursday morning), my friends and I met with Amadou and Muhsana from Portes et Passages (http://www.portesetpassages.org/), a really fantastic art facility in a small village called Ngazobil, near Joal, three hours south of Dakar, to see if we could come and help out for the long weekend. We met them at their home in Mermoz, and you could just tell that it was a home of artists. Portes et Passages is all about reinventing how we think of art, and providing a more holistic view of what art could and should be. They have workshops with women from the nearby village that teach them to creatively explore their own pottery, and they also have other fantastic projects that deal with building sustainably and conscienciously, agriculture and education. I'm so excited to see what's in store for us next Thursday and to see how we can help them with their mission.

I should probably go to bed soon, but the ataaya I drank with my brothers just now is keeping me wired. It's pretty late here (past 1am) and I have to wake up at 6:30am tomorrow to catch the 7am bus to my internship downtown. I'm working at a Poste de Santé called Centre de Saint Laurent, which is a charitable organization run by Catholic nuns, and I'm going to need to be wide awake if I'm to work in the injection room tomorrow. I think that's where I'm going to be allowed to administer vaccinations (?), and where I'm supposed to work tomorrow. After two great weeks in the lab, pricking people and making blood smear slides, testing people for malaria, pregnancy, diabetes, anemia, sickle-cell anemia, UTIs, and parasites/worms, it'll be nice doing something different. I get so much say in the kinds of things I get to do, which is something I'm truly grateful for and an experience that I know I would not be able to get anywhere in the States. And I DON'T want to mess up, so I guess I'll be going to bed now.

Ba ci kanam,
Kat

A Photo Montage

Suffolk University campus, where we study

Ouakam

Inside a car rapide

L'Ile de Gorée, which used to be a base for slave trade

Me at the beach at Toubab Dialaw, this artistic village that we all went to this past weekend on the Petite Côte

Two of my little girls, Bebe Aida and Arame Yvonne

Mai and Baby Dieme Ana

That's all for now!

Love from Dakar,
Kat

Day in the Life

Example of a day in my life --

Today, I woke up around 8, got ready pretty quickly, and grabbed a baguette on the way out of the house. Usually I wake up a bit earlier so I can calmly have my bread with a bit of butter, and when it's a really good morning, have enough time to boil some water for my Nescafe. Before rushing off to catch the 7 bus that stops right in front of my house, I greet my mother and wish her a good day.

The bus is almost always super crowded, with people clamoring to pay for their bus ticket (150 cfa, ~30 cents in the US) from the guy in the middle of the bus who has a yellow cage that he works from. The bus ride to school is probably one of my least favorite times of day, especially since it's so damn hard to physically get out of the bus when (and if) they stop at ENEA/Suffolk University, the campus that my program is in.

Classes are either from 9-4:30 or 11-4:30 for me, depending on the day, with an hour and a half for lunch in between. Normally I get an egg sandwich which comes on a baguette with salad and spicy sauce from the shack on campus (500 cfa, or about $1), but lately I'm getting sick of the same food everyday. It's a shame that I can't go home for lunch like the people who live in Mermoz or Sacre Coeur 3, but I'm slowly starting to discover new ways to eat lunch, like by buying a bunch of fruit from the nearby fruit stands and/or cookies and yogurt from Elton, the gas station near the school.

After class, I usually chill around campus checking email and hanging out with friends until I feel like going home. As much as taking the bus to school is my least favorite time of day, taking the car rapide home (75 cfa, ~15 cents) and walking the 10 minutes to my house from the last stop of the car rapide is one my favorite times of day. It's the time I get to relax and think, and the walk home is one of the only times during the day that I get to walk around the neighborhood and see and sometimes greet the people who live in my town.

I'm usually home anywhere between 5:30 and 7, and spend the next 1-3 hours greeting the family and their guests, playing with the girls, watching Senegalese TV, reading for pleasure and for school, doing Wolof assignments, talking to my brothers and sisters (who are all incredibly kind, intelligent people), hanging out with Ouakam friends from the program, and chilling with Maman. Dinner's usually around 8:30, around a bowl on the floor. The food has all been really delicious so far (except for Sunday night porridge, which they make with millet and yogurt, which I endlessly complain about). Food so far has included LOTS of cebujën (white or red rice with fish), maafé, yassa poulet (my personal favorite), random other Senegalese dishes I still don't know the names for, and even spaghetti with a meat sauce.

After dinner I hang around some more, reading, relaxing, working, and socializing with the family, oftentimes drinking ataaya when my brothers decide to make some at night, which is always fun since a bunch of their friends usually come to hang out with us when that happens. Lately I've also been inviting a couple of Ouakam friends from school to drink tea with us as well, and I enjoy having my people in my life bleed into each other and enjoy each others company.

I sleep anywhere between midnight and 2, depending on how tired I am and whether or not my family is awake. Overall, une bonne vie, and I couldn't be happier.

Family Times

After a month in Dakar, I finally decided to start a blog. I hope that I'm not too late in the game, but with my awful memory I would love to look back on something and remember little tidbits of my time here.

First thing I fell in love with here: my host family. Having a very traditional, Senegalese host family here is one of the most incredible, odd, and out of character experience I've had so far. First of all, the house is huge, with three full floors and a fourth floor currently being constructed for future family members. It's a beautiful, reddish pink building with flowers and a pretty little garden out in the front, and the side door 90% of the time open, which makes people coming in and out of the house so much easier. The household is extremely fluid, with random friends and relatives constantly flowing in and out, greeting each other and catching up.

Maman Thérèse is the head of the household since her husband, who was the first professor of psychiatry in Senegal, died years ago. I keep calling her "my grandma" to my friends since she reminds me so much of my grandmother back home in New York, since both of them are forces to be reckoned with. Maman is in charge of a household of two babies (Babacar Mamour and Dieme Ana), three little girls (Arame Yvonne, Bebe Aida and Xena Wa), three sisters (Thérèse Sow, Thérèse Faye, and Mami Jo), five brothers (Lex, Vicky, Babacar, Petit and Victor), two uncles (Djibi and Bou), two aunts (Adji and Tatan Aida), two live-in maids (Mai, who's 17, and a new one whose name I forgot), and me -- 21 in total, all under one roof, and amazingly enough, it never feels crowded. There's also Soda, a gorgeous, tall and thin girl who comes in to cook and wash clothes for us everyday, and she always has her adorable baby wrapped around her back as she does the laundry. The maids are really a part of the family, and Mai and I have managed to become friends despite the huge language barrier between my awful French, her awful French, and my extremely limited Wolof.

I've also become close to all my brothers, who have ataaya almost every night with their friends. Drinking ataaya is such a specific Senegalese thing, which is interesting because the tea is a gun powder green tea that's imported from China. What makes it so Senegalese is the social context in which people drink it and the pretty way they prepare the tea, pouring it back and forth between two small glass cups so that there is enough foam in each cup. People flock around a pot of ataaya being prepared, even when most of the time they're not drinking much at all, and mostly sit around and chat.

The three little girls are adorable, even when they're being brats, and one of my favorite times of the day is when I come home from school and I hear a chorus of "Tatan Kat!!! Tatan Kat!!" as they rush down to hug me. I don't know when I became this soft, but I think Senegal is turning me into a family-person. It's amazing how much I love being in such a bustling, large family, considering I'm used to a quiet, small, nuclear-family household, and in general need my me-time. (That said, I miss my family home in New York, and I want to wish my sister Linda luck on her new internship in Arizona/Nevada, which she's starting soon!!)

There's a lot I can say about the last month of my time here, and it's a shame I didn't start this blog earlier. The blog I tried to start in Paris last summer was an utter failure because I never wanted to share interesting things from my day-to-day, and instead I focused too much time on naval-gazing. The thing that's different about Dakar is that life here is such a departure from anywhere I've ever been, and so I'm constantly surrounded by a sensory overload. After having lived here for a month (and for three weeks properly in this house in Ouakam, a more village-like area in the northwest of Dakar) I've gotten used to a lot of the physical, superficial aspects of living in Dakar, like the fact that sheep/goats walk around the streets, the fact that there's sand EVERYWHERE, the architecture, the fact that my house is almost never locked, the greetings (which can sometimes be a loooong process), eating on the floor around a bowl, the starchy, heavy diet, etc.

Beyond the more obvious aspects of Senegalese culture, I'm just starting to understand the nuances of the society in a more layered way than I thought I would. One of my brothers, Vicky, just spent the last half hour after dinner explaining their extended family tree to me, and it made me dizzy just thinking about how many people he has to keep track of. There are Sereres, Lebous, Peuls, Diolas and French people all in the same family, even though Maman Thérèse and her family specifically comes from one village called Djembering. The relationship that the members of the family have to each other, even when usually they are only distantly related, is really beautiful to see, and it's easy to understand how they accept me as part of their family, even if only temporarily.

The other aspects of my life are great as well -- classes are pretty good (I'm taking Wolof, French, Senegalese Culture and Society, Public Health, and an internship class in which I spend my Fridays working in a private charity Poste de Santé that's run by Catholic sisters), program people are great, I'm slowly starting to make some neighborhood friends, and there's a lot of beaching, beautiful weather and meeting strangers. I've experienced some of the nightlife here already, which is pretty fun, but nightlife doesn't interest me nearly as much as all the rest does.

The first week that I moved in here was full of uncomfortable encounters, not knowing much about the family or the way of life in Senegal, but gladly, I think I'm past that. I'm a pro at taking car rapides, which are these junky, windowless and incredibly colorful vans that I take to and from Ouakam, school and downtown Dakar, which I think gives me at least some Senegalese street cred. I try to incorporate as much Wolof in my daily life as possible, and my French is improving, albeit sloooowly. I have my ups and downs as I navigate Dakar, but it's definitely feeling a lot less like a strange new world and a lot more like home.