Wednesday, February 20, 2008

On the road again

I'm back in Kaolack after a heinously cramped, four-or-five hour sept-place ride from Dakar. But, it is very good to be back where I know the ropes, and I feel comfortable in my (rather disgusting, but familiar) surroundings. I just had a surprisingly quick and painless trip to the market, where I picked up gifts for my Wolof family: new knives and powdered milk for the moms, tea and sugar for the dad, and new spoons, pens and notebooks for the kids. I also grabbed a petit pagne for myself. These are sheer pieces of fabric that go under the normal pagne - wrap skirts - of a complet. When women dance, they whip open the two flaps of the pagne, to reveal whatever they're wearing underneath, be it panties, a petit pagne, or nothing. I'm excited for the next dancing event, where I'll spread my skirts to flash the petit pagne. It will definitely be surprising and will make them laugh. If nothing else, laughter is something I feel comfortable sharing anywhere in the world. But first I must to the post office, and the bank, then I'll pick up some tasty cocunt beignets before hopping in a route taxi home. Only 150cfa, and if you're lucky you won't be sitting on some guy's lap in the front!

Sunday, February 17, 2008

WAIST 2008: Dakar, Senegal

Kaolack's part in the annual West African Invitational Softball Tournament ended today. We played some awesome games - our team was really good! - but didn't quite make the finals. I did my part by cheering from the sidelines, wearing my bright red Kaolack team tee-shirt and yelling myself hoarse. Our region chose "toxic waist" as our theme; this is something of an inside joke, considering the volume of waste and general nastiness of Kaolack city itself, affectionately referred to as "the cesspool". So, the past two days have been full of softball, interspersed with frequent trips to the snack bar for (pork!) hot dogs, fries, baked treats, burgers, and other American deliciousness. One thing we Peace Corps Volunteers tend to do, whenever possible, is pig out on good food. Anything but ceeb u jen! Additionally, we had space to spread out, root for our favorite teams, relax, splash in the delightfully chilly swimming pool, and socialize. WAIST is an attraction for Volunteers from all over West Africa. I've met people serving in Mali, Benin, The Gambia, Guinea, and Mauritania. Plus, several groups of ex-pats, American and otherwise, who live here in Dakar. These people have been extremely generous to us. They've opened their homes to the Volunteers, so we all have places to stay, not to mention organizing all the games and events! It's really been a fantastic week-end. Dakar, it must be said, is not Senegal. Just like Paris is not France, and New York City is not the USA; Dakar is similar in that it stands alone, practically a country unto itself. Here are restaurants of every ethnicity, florist shops, clothing boutiques catering to every taste, shiny new cars, street lamps, trash cans, parks - all mostly unheard-of elsewhere in Senegal. Certainly a far cry from my quiet world several kilometers to the South, where people still go to the well every day for water, grow peanuts for a living, and there is no electricity. Dakar is dynamic; new buildings are going up everywhere, and the population is very cosmopolitan, with people of all walks of life and different heritages. Still, one is occasionally reminded that this is a developing country. Now and then, the smoothly paved roads give way to dirt. Horse charrettes can be seen trotting alongside sports cars, and street vendors hawking fruits or bean sandwiches are just as common as restaurants. The difference between the lifestyles of les Dakarois, and we villagers, is startling. It's not something you think about on a regular basis. But here are beautiful high-rise apartment buildings, while I live in a mud hut! Actually, I am looking forward to getting back to Keur Ali Gueye. There is a certain charm about living such a basic life, where needs are met but not exceeded, and time moves at its own pace. I passed my five-month anniversary, and I can't believe I've been here so long. The individual days are slow, but weeks fly by. Before I head back to the village, though, I'm going to enjoy my time here in the big city. And go dancing! We've had dance parties every night so far, and I plan to keep it up.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Chicken dibi-licious

Yesterday I went with a couple friends for the "famous" chicken dibi of Thies. This place is, literally, a hole in the wall, with a roaring fire (fed by logs that spill out into the walkway, burning on one end) over which meat and chicken are grilled. Ignoring the many food handling violations it would have earned in the US, I and my two brave companions settled down and ordered chicken for three. (As a side note, this was misunderstood as three chickens; a delicious if costly mistake.) Fabulous music was playing in the background - Youssou Ndour, an excellent Senegalese singer - with a beat so catchy we wiggled in our seats, dancing around. At length our dinner arrived: an enormous platter with grilled chicken arranged around a bed of salad, all drizzled over with mustard and mayonnaise. We dug in with our hands, grease smearing our fingers, with sighs of pleasure at the deliciousness of the crunchy skin and perfectly cooked meat. Oh, it was amazing! I realize now that many of my most ardent blog posts revolve around food. Coincidence? Definitely not. We have one more week of training in Thies before an all-Volunteer event in Dakar. More good meals on the horizon!

Tuesday, February 5, 2008

Ile de Goree

Happy Mardi Gras! I'm celebrating by having a nice dinner at a new restaurant in town, with free wi-fi Internet. How bizarre, to be using this fancy wireless computer here, with a guy selling nescafe from a cart strolling by, and kids dressed up in their best "yere wolof" for Mardi Gras. This past weekend I and three friends took a one-night vacation to Ile de Goree. It was amazing! We took a ferry to the island Saturday evening, at a time when most of the tourists were leaving for their hotels in Dakar. Ile de Goree looks like a town in Southern France, with its homogenous architecture of courtyard gardens, metal balconies, and red tile roofs. In the evening, quaint streetlamps came on, illuminating the narrow stone walkways - no cars on Goree, just pedestrians, which is completely relaxing. We had dinner at an oceanside restaurant. I'd forgotten how much I love the sea, the special smell of salt air and how relaxing the waves sound. Goree is a quiet paradise at nighttime; we strolled around, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. The next day we followed crowds of tourists around to visit the island's attractions. Most famously, the slave house, which is veyr well preserved. The top floor is a tiny museum, once the old airy masters' quarters, built directly on top of the stone-walled cells beneath, where the slaves were housed. A door leads directly out to the sea - they called that, dramatically, "the door of no return." Goree also has a very nice little museum dedicated to Senegalese women, and another great museum covering the history of Senegal from prehistoric times, built upon an old fort. Of course, being a popular tourist destination, there was tons of art for sale (of varying quality) bombarding us throughout the day, all the way up the hill to the summit of the plateau. Bits of old military bunkers and defunct guns scatter the island as well. Several artists set up their studios in the empty cement buildings - an appropriate reclaimation, I think. For me a night on Ile de Goree was a heavenly respite from the stress of training, not to mention the constant noise. And I took my first hot shower in Senegal! Oh, it was so wonderful, it defies description! Needless to say my backyard bucket bath can't quite compare. But, now it's back to Thies and long training days. Today we practiced grafting trees. It's a fine art I definitely have not mastered.