Ba Beenen Yoon Senegal!

My time in Senegal has come to a close and as I reflect on my time I realize there is so much that I have experienced that my brain gets tired just thinking about it. I ended up remembering the small details, the little things that happened on the way to and from school, simple words and funny moments.  In order to organize all of this, I have made lists (one of my favorite past times) of the little things in my Senegalese experience that have made up the whole. 
 How did I get from here to there? All my modes of transport

Car rapides, tatas (similar to car rapides), public bus, ferry, pirogue (yes this means ferry in french, but I am describing a different type of ferry)

dingy boat, horse cart, taxi, bus, mini bus, bush taxi, bike (these last two are from Burkina Faso, but I am still counting them!)

Animals I have seen

Mouton, dogs, cats, kittens, mice, rats, lizards, giraffe, warthog, pigs, hyena, antelope, monkeys, onyx, zebra, parrots, tortoise, rhinos, ostriches, pelicans, cormorant, flamingos and crocodiles. I may have seen more but those are the big ones!

Things I have bought for less then $2

lait callie, mafé sauce (very similar to peanut butter but much th, popcorn, a fresh coconut, a full plate of Senegalese food, laundry soap, a large scoop of ice cream, a hand made basket, taxi rides, local drinks, peanuts, a pagna skirt made while I waited and fresh fruit galore!

Favorite drinks!!Top 10
1)  lait caille 2) bissap 3)  ataya 4) deeta 5) hot condescend milk 6) liquor made from the apple of a cashew plant 7) bouye 8) a cocktail mix  of different juices with a sugared rim 9) kinkiliba tea 12) coke ( not the same as in the US as they use REAL cane sugar, on a  hot day it can't be beat)
Favorite foods! top 10

 1) Mafe 2) yassa poulet 3) ceebujen 4) lax   5) Couscous à la Senegalese  5) gousi 6) mouton7) chwyarma 8) tapalapa baguettes  9) charcuterie (not meat)  10) brochettes

Meals I have prepared
Ceebujen, tacos (or something that resembled that) an attempt at yassa sauce, mafé, failed popcorn but excellent corn nuts, ataya( so this isn't a meal in the US but in Senegal it was a several hour process so I therefore consider it an art form and a meal), spicy peanut sauce and grilled mouton (ok, so I didn't ACTUALLY prepare this, but close enough!)Bugs I am not afraid of
Smallish cockroaches, termites, SOME spiders, praying mantises, crickets, ok this list is short, but hey! It's still an improvement, right?
15 things you can buy from your car
Boxes of tissues, grandfather clocks, books of any type, phone cards, tea, fruit, beignets (yum!), juice, stickers, brooms, shoes, workout outfits, mini statues, sunglasses and on one odd case in Burkina, teeth!
What you can get in a clear plastic bag
Lait caille, juice, peanuts, oranges, limes, water, oil ( cooking oil or for your car), soap, fish, chicken, mouton ( alive or dead?oh the possibilities), small cakes, beignets, mafe sauce and frozen juices on a hot day. 
Top Ten I received for free (in no particular order)

1) a weekend in a the village of Fimela Ndanga learning the value of education 2) opinions on musical education 3) language lessons from everyone I met 4) a taxi ride to a gare when I was lost 5) gifts from friendly shop keepers 6) a wonderful Senegalese meal from a woman I met once 7) beignets and bissap and peanut butter, the perfect afternoon snack with Erica
8) Stories about the Senegalese countryside from my host brother 9) Support from all my friends in the program throughout the semester 10) four months of memories of an incredible experience

For those of you who didn't experience the last four months with me, some of these things will not make sense. Whenever you get the chance to see me, unfortunately for many of you that won't be for another six months, you can ask me! I didn't explain these things on purpose, because answering the question "so what is gousi?" is a lot easier then answering "so how was SENEGAL?" (please refrain from asking the second question, I will probably just stare and maybe start laughing). The first half of my year is over, but stay tuned as this Ballardite heads to Europe for phase two!!

First Lady and Flip Flops

As sad as it sounds my last full week in Dakar as a student has come to a close.

However it ended just as full of surprises as it began. I arrived at the National School of the Arts (Equivalent of a conservatory where I’ve been working for the past month) to the smell of VERY fresh paint, and i knew something was up. When I made it to my advisors office where everyone was in a state of panic. He frantically told me that the First Lady (yes the white who is married to President Wade) was coming the following morning. Ah, now the smell of fresh paint and professors barking out orders all made sense.

M. Seye, my advisor and director of the music program, invited me to come back the next morning at 9am for the festivities. Not wanting to miss out, I showed up at 8 :15 am dressed to impress. At 11 :20 am the black BMW pulled up amidst burly security guards. However, I was in for a surprise. Not only was Madam Wade there, but the visiting First Lady from the Czech Republic was there! 

I managed to follow them through the various presentations until I was right next to them ( I believe I was allowed through because I was the only white person aside from these ladies). I did no more then say hi and thank you for coming to them, but they noticed me. I think Madame Wade liked my outfit, Thank you Amy ! The day was full of formalities, mini speeches, translators and flags. I left very satisfied with my first extended celebrity sighting. 

The end of the week was as opposite from the beginning as you can imagine. Friday afternoon I boarded a bus headed to a region I’d never visited, trusting the bus driver to know where my stop would be. I had decided to pay an impromptu visit to a girl close to my age who had worked as a maid at my family’s home in Dakar. Despite the language barrier, most of the people in the village spoke only Wolof or Serer, I managed to quickly connect with the family. 

The children had never seen a white person and enjoyed jumping around me. The Grandmother welcomed me by telling me she would teach me Serer and shaking my hand for at least 5 minutes. During my short stay (I arrived in the village on Friday afternoon and left before dawn on Sunday morning) I saw and learned more then almost my entire stay thus far. My friend, Khadi Kholl Diouf, was so welcoming and took me along with her everywhere. 

It was such a relief to finally have friends that were girls my own age, to show me around, laugh, confide and connect with. During the time I taught math, got up to go to school at 5am, roasted peanuts, cooked couscous, rode on the back of a horse cart and played hand games with kids.

This weekend was hard to end, both Khadi and I almost cried when I ran onto the bus to leave, as we both knew that we would probably never see each other again. Hopefully I can send her a letter sometime, although it is very hard to mail something when the address contains directions of “next to the school”. 

After our Impromptu Math lesson

Last part! For my final post in Senegal, I want to do a question and answer segment. This is to see what you have questions on and also to see if anyone is reading this other then my mom (no offense mom, I appreciate you reading this). So if anyone is out there reading about my random adventures, let me know what you want to know! Anything from favorite animals sighted in the streets to the weirdest thing I saw people use a bowl for (trust me, a bowl is VERY versatile here). Write your questions in the comments section!!!

The B series! 5. Baobab!

For the last couple weeks I have been living in an apartment (in the neighborhood of Baobab, yes there is a rather large Baobab tree buried within the convoluted streets), with three other people, Justin, Amy and Kendra. We have been working on our independent research project (ISP), but also enjoying our free time in Dakar! Here are some photos to show you, per request, of what I have been up to!

The Roomies! Kendra, Me, Justin and Amy

At our apartment warming party

Night out

Study break= Trampoline Time

Photo op. on the trampoline

Cooking for "Turkey" Day

 

 

 

The feast begins

So much food

Full plates, full bellies

The perfect timing for a care package

The B series: 4. Baguette!

Ah French colonialism. The French were officially kicked out of Senegal in 1960, but their legacy lives on in the form of bread! Before coming to Senegal I never really understood the importance of bread. Here bread is eaten at least once a day, although that would be a very skimpy bread day for the Senegalese. 

When I was living with my host family, they bought at least four loaves of bread for breakfast alone. Keep in mind that my family fed over 10 people, so this was not too ridiculous of an amount. Even so, they would always buy half a baguette just for me. The general breakfast meal consists of half a baguette with any variation of protein on the inside and nescafé coffee (really, the only kind of coffee that is found here!). If the bread is brought to the home then they generally eat it with butter or chocopain (which is the cheaper version of nutella, still good!). If breakfast is eaten on the go, you can get scrambled eggs put inside or some sort of bean and vegetable mix. These sandwiches can be bought at small little stands in the street, prices vary but you will never need to pay more then the equivalent of 20 cents for one of these. 

Bread accompanies just about every meal here, and it is an absolute requirement for street food. Not only that, but there are so many variations on the baguette and of the common breads. There are small loaves that are soft and almost like sourdough. There are long skinny baguettes that are hard and crusty and not too good for much of anything except swiping up the remains of your meal. There are wide baguettes that are great for sandwiches, and soft long ones that are good for snacking with chocopain. There are also round breads that are sweeter which are in just about every little boutique, but I rarely see anyone eating them. 

Patisseries and boulangeries are everywhere, and the main baking hours are early in the morning and in the middle of the day for the evening rush. When I get up in the morning and go walking I see the delivery boys driving around with big boxes of bread on either side of their bicycle. There is a new boulangerie that opened up semi near my apartment and sometime before I leave I will get up early and walk over to get a fresh baked baguette right out of the oven. 

You can see how well we have adapted!

The B series! 3. The Bus Ride

I had agreed to go talk to some musicians for my project, so I was on the move for the evening. I met the Kora player (Kora is like a traditional harp, see one of my first posts for a more accurate description) at the conservatory, and he told me that I was welcome to come to the band practice and talk to the other musicians he knew that hadn’t had a formal education if I wanted.

Like most of the rest of experiences during the ISP period (Independent Study Project) I found myself heading out somewhere with no clue as to my destination. I took a car rapide to a bus stop, and from there was told to take the bus to the end of the line. Now imagine, the most crowded bus you have ever been on. Think hard, and now double that, and that is where I was. The bus pulled up, and all the people waiting rushed up, trying to squeeze their way on first to secure their spot. I ended up being the last on, and was hanging on the doors, not really fitting in. 

Finally we squeezed in and the doors slammed closed behind me. There was a woman sitting on the seats closest to the door, her spot surrounded by glass, no doubt so no one could invade her space, and she was the designated ticketer. I was smashed up against the bar on the edge of her seat, crushed by the people behind and and the step above me, and the doors. Everytime they opened I had to push back hard on the other passenger behind me so as not to get run over. 

This continued for about 30 minutes, as I watched the city pass by me. Slowly the bus emptied, and by the end I was able to see the others seats, and then I was able to snag one. Unfortunately that moment of triumph didn’t last long as I had made it to my destination (I only knew this because I saw my contact in the street yelling “get off here!!” at me as soon as the bus slowed). Even though I have lived in Dakar for close to 4 months, I had yet to ride a public bus like that. That small accomplishment made me very proud, and really being that cramped was not so bad.

The B series! 2. The Butcher

So this mini adventure started because I needed to get some meat for my contribution to the American Thanksgiving dinner our group was putting on. Therefore I grabbed my apartment mate Justin and went into the neighborhood in search of a Dibiterie (butcher) to get some mouton (sheep). Sooner then expected, Justin and I found a small hole in the wall Dibi. 

I asked for mouton (I am sorry, but I have to call it mouton instead of sheep because these sheep look NOTHING like American sheep, they will forever be mouton to me) and he promptly pulled out a leg from the freezer and asked if that would be good. I agreed, and then we haggled a bit over how much I would get-1.5 kilos-, and he smiled when he realized that we could understand a bit of Wolof (as he didn’t speak any real French, this was a little bit of a challenging interaction). 

I was under the impression that we would just buy the meat fresh, and I could prepare it as I wanted at home later on. However, he began to salt it and stick it into the fire that he had going, ready to grill it for me! I stopped him, and asked to have it fresh, which confused him and he washed it and put it back on the grill. 

Justin convinced me not to fight what he was doing, and just let him prepare it for me. The assistant came and sat next to us as we waited, wearing at-shirt that read “Just Another SEXY Bald Guy”, which was ironic as he was in fact bald. So there we sat in the Dibi, two white Americans and the Senegalese with no clue as to what his t-shirt implied, watching the butcher grill a smoky scent into the mouton, letting the delicious smell waft past us and out the open door. Then the butcher chopped up some onions and put them with the meat to grill as well. Finally he packaged it all up and added some spicy sauce and mustard. Really, for $11, this was quite the deal, I can see another mouton dinner in my future. 

The B series! 1. The Boarding School

So this is a series of little vignettes, all of which start with B!


I had one of the most strange and Senegalese days, that it simply has to be shared. If I haven’t already said it already, I am towards the end of the month of independent research of our program. This is the month where each of chose a subject to research, and we are given a budget and free time from classes to conduct our research in whatever way we chose. By the end we should have the equivalent of a 20-40 paper explaining what we did and our results, and we also have to do a final presentation to defend our research. 
I have been researching the musical education system in Senegal, which has included observing classes, talking to professors, students and musicians and observing attitudes towards music in general. Now that you have the background information, you can understand why I may have ended up at the ferry dock to Gorée Island at 7am. From my constant appearance at the National School of the Arts (the national conservatory, and from my knowledge the only music school in the country) I had made a contact with a professor who teaches at an all girls boarding school on the island. This school is the best school for girls in Senegal, as it selectively takes the top 3 girls from each region of the country as students (There is a national test that is administered after the 5^th grade, and based on these results the selections are made). 
Upon arrival at the school I was shown around the campus and introduced to the director, all the usual formalities. The class started at 8am, but nothing in Senegal starts right on time, so we (myself and the professor) arrived “on time” at 8:15am in the classroom. The students all stood up and greeted the professor, and I was offered a seat in the back of the classroom to observe. The class was interesting to me in the way that music was taught mostly by learning the theory. Because there are not a lot of resources or even a suitable budget for music (those in the US who study or have any experience with the musical education system, be grateful for what you DO have!), the professor has to make do by simply teaching the theory of music. 
What I mean by that is that there is a very large nation wide shortage of instruments, so the only ones that are moderately accessible for people to study with are the recorder and guitar. Keyboards are hard to find and expensive, pianos are an enormous luxury, even the traditional instruments are hard to find. The shortage of instruments coupled with the very low priority that the government puts on musical education ( the government funds most of the schools) makes a very poor situation for any sort of musical education. The professors do what they can, but without a classroom or instruments, they are forced to simply teach the theory of music and hope that the students will be inspired enough to continue on in music. 
Therefore the class time was divided in half, one was written on the chalkboard, and the other was practicing with the recorders. Each student was instructed to bring their own recorder, but only a handful had their own, so everyone passed them around. The girls seemed so enchanted and exhilarated by the fact that they were making their own music, that by the end of the class they didn’t want to stop, so they began singing a song that the professor had taught them. 
He brought out his guitar, and they all continued to sing together until the next class had to start. After the class I literally ran and jumped to make the boat back to the mainland (I did do a running jump onto the boat because it had already started to pull away when I caught sight of it, and there was no way I was waiting for the next one!). As the boat pulled away and I regained my composure, I realized that I had just the most wonderful experience, and it was only noon!

A Trip to The Embassy!

Disclaimer: For those of you who have never been to a movie at the Majestic Bay Theater in Ballard, I am so sorry that this will not make much sense to you. For those who have, enjoy!

Let's read and learn as Becca and Friends take...a trip to the Embassy!

After everyone has their passports screened and RSVPS checked, they enter in an orderly fashion.

Becca grabbed as many iced teas as she could, while Justin, Amy and Alexa stood around absorbing the English being spoken.

Well who's this! If it isn't President Wade's old time pal the Ambassador Lewis Lukens!
Hey guys, how's things?- Ambassador Lukens

Ambassador, this is no time to talk, you have to make your speech! Now move along! Admonishes Justin

Ah, the speeches have started, but wait! Someone has let their little twins run around in matching outfits, and it is distracting Amy from listening to the Ambassador.

What's Becca going to do? Right again Becca! If there are bored children, give them a cookie!

Ah the speeches have ended, and what a long winded one it was.

Wait! Says Alexa, uh oh! They've spied all the left over American treats on the table!

But Justin knows what to do, because he's come prepared!

 Liberty and Justice are an important part of...a trip to the Embassy!







Ok, so that was a spoof that may not have made a whole lot of sense to most of you. However the point is that going to the Ambassador's house (The Embassy is currently under construction, but it sounded better in the story then Ambassador's house) felt very surreal, just like the black and white cartoon that depicts happy go lucky children from the 50s enjoying their movie in the correct fashion. This experience made me realize that when I get back to the States, readjustment will be a lot harder then I thought it would be! 

Thanksgiving in Senegal....Tabaski!

 Last Monday was Tabaski, one of the biggest Muslim holidays! Throughout this program we were told that this would be a huge ceremony that the whole country looks forward to every year. People have new clothes made by the tailor, hair is rebraided, sheeps are bought, drinks are made in vats and everyone who has family in villages go back to the village for a week to celebrate. Whenever I asked anyone about Tabaski, the conversation always started out with “Well, first you kill the mouton…”. Let me clarify, the mouton is a sheep, however the sheep here do not look like the fluffy sheep that we are used to. They actually look like a cross between a sheep and a goat.

The week before my family prepared for Tabaski by making traditional drinks. My host mom made Bissap, which is a juice made out of hibiscus flowers and lots of sugar! She also made dita, which is made from the dita fruit and is bright green in color. That drink is not as sugary and is one of the most refreshing drinks I have ever tasted. The day of Tabaski rolled around, and I got up early in order to watch the festivities unfold. My brother, his sons and all the male relatives dressed up in their new Tabaski boubous for going to morning prayers. At 9 am all the men marched out the door with their prayer rugs in hand to walk to the mosque. 

It is tradition that everyone prays in the morning, however only the men left in my family to do this. The women all stayed home and got the grills fired up for the mouton to follow. Once the men returned, it was time to sacrifice the moutons! First, a little background on these moutons, most people have at least one, but at our house we had five moutons, one for my brother, my mother, my father, my aunt and the visiting brother-in-law. These moutons had been moved from the stalls outside (you buy moutons in street lots, sort of like Christmas trees) to our terrace . On the day of, after the prayers, we all, including the children, trooped up the stairs to the terrace.

The men and boys would hold down the mouton while my brother would say the prayers and cut the throat. (Note: I am not adding photos of the actual killing of the goats, if you want to see these, just email me!) For me, it was a bit gruesome to watch, but soon I realized the necessity of the act. I have grown up eating meat that came in a package from the supermarket. I was so completely removed from the process that I never connected a live animal to what I was eating. Here there is a yearly reminder that something has to die in order for us to eat meat. Despite the amount of blood and twitching and uncomfortableness I felt at watching five moutons get slaughtered, afterwards I felt much better about being a carnivore. After I seeing the sacrifice I felt that now I could truly eat meat without feeling guilty. As soon as all of the moutons were slaughtered, they began the meat preparation process. The first part we ate was grilled liver….it was delicious! 

We set the table with several different types of sauce, and people ate as they could in between meat preparation. Fries were cooking all day, and all the grills of the house had been brought down to be used to grill meat. The family shared the meat with extended family and neighbors and so people came and went in the house throughout the day. Similar to Thanksgiving, people eat all day, wear nicer clothes and give thanks for the day. 

My brother invited two of his new co-workers over, who ended up being from Holland and spoke English. My brother invited us over to a neighbor’s house to have a drink (Note: this was very interesting as Muslims are not supposed to drink alcohol, so right away I knew that we were not going to a Muslim house). 

We ended up spending most of the day at a family friends house, who happens to be Christian. It wasn’t exactly the way I thought I would spend Tabaski, but we had a great time chatting, drinking and eating! My host family even brought over a huge plate of mouton and fries, yumm!

By the end of the day I was exhausted and stuffed to the brim with delicious grilled mouton. I returned home in the evening to find that my entire family had left, and the house was still. I went to sleep very early, thinking that Tabaski was not quite what I expected, but still an excellent holiday of eating, just like Thanksgiving!

Thumbs up for Tabaski!!!