Thursday, September 8, 2011

Le pain de singe


Photo from the roof of SIT with the national monument of Senegal in the distance.


So far, the first week has been filled with an assortment of adventures.  I'm probably going to jump around a bit here, just so much to tell!
On Tuesday, aside from the continued orientation sessions on health, safety, cultural tips, we ventured out from the SIT building and into the neighboring streets of Sacre Coeur (the surrounding neighborhood).  We each had a "Senegalese object" such as la theiere, a tea pot; or la natte, a mat for sitting or praying.  We had no idea what the objects were--we had to ask people in the street how they are used, who uses them, their names in French and Wolof, etc.  We went out in groups of three, and thankfully most people spoke French! My object was le pain de singe (monkey bread) or buy, pronounced bouy in Wolof.  It is the fruit of a baobad tree. It looks like chunks of white grainy soap with black balls in the middle (sorry no picture).  The black balls are the seeds that feel like hard tapioca balls one might find in bubble tea. One spits these seeds out after chewing.  It tastes like mild, slightly bitter dried apple.  This task was enjoyable because we got real conversation exposure, and we saw the side streets.  On the flip side; however, it was the first time we experienced what it feels like to be a toubab, the Wolof word for white person.  People openly called me toubab and I was perceived and treated like a foreigner, an outsider.  It is by no means a bad thing, it is a reality, and I just have to get used to it.

This highlight of the day yesterday was the first meeting with our host families.  One member of each family came to SIT to greet us.  For me, it was Fabintu, my fifteen year old host sister.  She came with her friend/neighbor (whose name I forget), and her cousin who is the host sister of Alexa, another SIT student.  I was happy to learn that for the most part, every family is somehow connected to another.  Whether it be blood relation, or for business.  Another example: I learned my host mother is a seamstress.  She sells her designs to the boutique owned by Rachel's host mother.  The visit with Fabintu and the other girls was really fun! They are vibrant teenagers, and despite some moments when the language barrier was very evident, we easily communicated and laughed together.  They dress like American teenagers, have cell phones, Facebook, and love Emimen, Beyonce, and KeSha (I could not relate to liking Kesha....).  This surprised me a little bit, but I know it will not detract from my home stay experience.  I will also have a 9 year old sister, a 19 year old brother, a 21 year old sister! I am so excited to have siblings!!  I move in with them tomorrow night. They live in a neighborhood called Mermoz: in walking distance of SIT!

Today was our first excursion downtown.  We were prepared after learning about how pickpocket scams work, and the areas to avoid.  In groups of three, we took taxis (2,000 CFA for a 15 min cab ride= $4 .....amazing.) to various destinations in the heart of the city.  My group went to la place d'independance, the real heart of the city.  Bouna told me it's the Times Square or Downtown Crossing of Dakar.  First of all, the cab ride was crazy.  It is common for cabbies to blow a tire and change it during a trip.  We had no idea where we were going, and all of a sudden the driver said <<Ici>>, "we're here".  We got out across from a beautiful blue mosiac fountain with golden lions aplenty.  Beyond that was the Chambre du Commerce (it only said ambre du Commerce on the building), and le banque Attijariwafa, the biggest bank in Senegal.  Next we wandered the streets to complete a questionnaire activity.  I just have to say how illuminating this experience was.  We were constantly being haggled and/or followed by street vendors trying to sell us everything from phone cards to sunglasses to peanuts.  I got used to saying non, merci non, merci.  That's just how it works here! The tubab commentary was evident again too.  After a bit we stopped to bargain with a vendor to try to by something for 1000 CFA (which is cheap=$2).  THis was part of the day's assignment.  The man we bargained with refused to reduce the price of his espidrille shoes, but we chatted in English, French, and Wolof for about 20 minutes! He started calling us his sisters, white Senegalese.  He also gave us all Wolof names--a custom here.  Mine was Miami...not Wolof at all...I think it was just too hard for him to say Merrill.  I accepted it. I should say everyone here struggles with my name.  It doesn't easily translate to a French/Wolof accent.  The people here are so welcoming and hospitable.  Hospitality is called teranga in Wolof, and it is a major, if not the major tenet of their culture.  Our new friend, Banasané, brought us to his fabric shop where he showed us BEAUTIFUL fabrics, dresses, skirts, bags, pants (I bought a pair), baskets, and on and on.  It was on an alley of jam-packed, truly Senegalese shops.  Banasané was telling me that the Lebanese have come to Dakar and totally monopolized the vendor scene on the major streets, so to really see Senegal, you have to go to the alleys, parallel to the busy streets.  After talking with him and his friends for a long time, he showed us a public bathroom (all mosiac, with a few "stalls" with a hole in the ground that you flush out with water) that costs 100 CFA to use (25 cents) and brought us to his favorite restaurant for lunch, where we said goodbye=baba ngo=until next time! I had chwarma for lunch, like a gyros with shaved beef, french fries, tomatoes, herbs, and good sauce.  All in all a great day! I was so happy to finally see the city.  I'm exhausted though, and next time I will take pictures as I didn't bring my camera today. À bientot!

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