Comment dit-on "Bonjour, ça va?" en anglais?

Before saying anything else I need to say how much I love Fridays in Senegal.  Every Friday everyone dons their beautiful traditional outfit of choice which means I am constantly admiring the women's intricate and colorful dresses, and the handsome, detailed men's Bubus (a long shirt over pants), and especially the small children wandering around in child-made versions of their parents traditional clothes.  
This morning I was thankful for the comfort of Friday dress as I took the bus to my first day of teaching english at a public school in the Mermoz neighborhood.  I had visited the school before with my friends Cara and Jenny who are also teaching there so I had some idea of what to expect.  Nevertheless, my mind was racing on the bus as I tried to go through my lesson plan quickly before I arrived.  The majority of my nerves originated from the fact that I am teaching these children english in french, my second language.  I do feel more confident in my speaking abilities since arriving in Dakar but I was still nervous.  
I arrived at the school and after being directed to classroom CE1A I entered to find about forty 8-10 year old students, but no teacher present.  In their adorable fashion the students rose saying/singing "Bonjour Madame" and then sat back down.  After inquiring with another person who I think worked at the school I discovered that their normal teacher would not be in the classroom with me as I taught today, my immediate reaction was fear but I figured I might as well start teaching.  
At first the students were very well-behaved as we reviewed some english they already knew such as "Hello, how are you?" and "What is your name?" etc.  But as the time continued it became a little more overwhelming.  I have a newfound respect for elementary school teachers who can keep their 8 year olds engaged as there were always at least four kids not paying attention.  I taught them a common hand clap game for silence and that helped a little but the three children playing with their broken desk and the boy who whipped out a spiderman mask (which yes I did appreciate a little) would not sit still.  
Nevertheless, there were a lot of kids who eagerly answered my questions and wanted to practice greeting each other in front of the class.  They even started calling me Madame Andrea by the end, which of course caused my heart to melt a little.  
Overall it was the most challenging and overwhelming experience I have had in Dakar so far but also extremely rewarding.  I cannot wait for the next class and to form a relationship with this group of kids over the next 3 months.  
Mass Massaer Niane Ecole 2 does not have much money as the public schools in Dakar are barely supported by the government.  The school educates 365 kids on a yearly operating budget of $6,185 which is by no means enough money for any type of school to operate. My friend Jenny has started a page to raise money for the school and we would very much appreciate any kind of donation if you can!

Here is the link: http://www.gofundme.com/Masse-Massaer-Niane-cole


In other news, I am leaving for the Cape Verde Islands for Spring Break tomorrow so I will be offline for a week, Ba Beneen Yoon (See you next time in Wolof)!  

A Week of Culture

Everyday in Senegal is a lesson in a culture so varied from that of the United States, but this week especially I acquired a hefty amount of cultural lessons, skills and even souvenirs. 

            On Thursday I had to refresh my memory of my one-year of drumming lessons from the first grade as my friend Cara and I began our first of four weekly traditional Senegalese drumming classes.  After meeting a man named Yussu outside of our local internet café we were led up to Monument in Ouakam where from behind a stall that normally sells tourist items our instructor John Pierre emerged with a Senegalese Jambé (drum) for each of us.  So there we sat, right next to the Monument and learnt the three basic rhythms of Senegalese drumming at twilight.  It was very picturesque if I do say so myself.  Not to mention the fact that Cara and I can’t wait for our chance to jump in on the next random beach-drumming circle we see and join in with what we know.  I fully expect to utilize the Senegalese drumming talent I acquire over the next four classes as a party trick upon my return, just provide me with a jambé.

            After my wonderful drum lesson on Thursday my friends and I ventured to the French Institute in Centre-Ville Dakar to see a play.  I was very excited about the idea of being able to watch theatre in Dakar and in French especially.  Interestingly enough I proceeded to observe the most bizarre piece of theatre I have ever seen involving dancing with oranges, pictures of fish, alcoholic visions, multiple very troubled characters and just overall confusion on our part.  My host family tried to convince me when I came home that I probably didn’t understand enough of the French, but I assured them it was not a language miscommunication.  Needless to say, my friends and I laughed hysterically for about 20 minutes afterwards about our unusual theatre experience.

            This weekend we took an excursion to the coastal village of Toubab Dialow.  It was nice to get out of Dakar and see a different side of this diverse country.  Driving along the scenery resembled my mind’s idea of African landscape but in the case of Senegal there are more Baobab trees, which have become not only my new favorite fauna but a beloved symbol of Senegalese culture as well.  At Toubab Dialow we stayed in what can best be described as The Shire of Africa, very Tolkien-esque buildings built into the cliffs of the village. 

The Hotel

Beautiful Mosque built into the hillside

At the hotel we had the chance to partake in Batik dying.  Batik, a form of fabric dying with wax, is popular all around the world but especially in West Africa.  We each created our own Batik pattern and now I have a beautiful cultural souvenir to brighten up my room a little bit.  At night we witnessed the most incredible dance show I have seen.  The Senegalese dancers are quite literally possessed by the rhythm of the drums and needless to say I have never seen anybody move that quickly while maintaining the beat.  The dancers pulled us up to join, but in our attempt to keep up with their movements it turned into more of a free-form dance party, which I didn’t hate.

This weekend a small group of us are venturing about 65 km outside of Dakar to go on a Safari Inshallah (God Willing)!

Boutiques

My local boutique

Even though I just posted a couple of days ago, I felt it necessary to share one of my favorite aspects of Senegalese society so far, the boutiques. 

            The American equivalent, although it doesn’t truly exist, would be CVS.  These boutiques are quite literally on every corner and sell items from toothpaste (even though the Senegalese don’t use it), to yogurt, to Kerosene, to even phone credit.  Consequently, these boutiques are also the only place to get change in Senegal because there are very few small bills in circulation.

            Upon entering a boutique it can be overwhelming due to the mass amount of goods crammed into a very small space as well as being surrounded by your fellow customers, the flies.  Nevertheless, these boutiques hold a certain charm.  I have started to learn which ones hold the different things I might need, and more importantly they are always a good place to practice a basic Wolof phrase I learnt in class that day.

Everyone in Senegal has their favorite boutique, just as they have their favorite tailor or fruit stand.  However, two nights ago I fell more in love with this local system when I discovered that my family’s favorite boutique (a two second walk from my house) is also my security guard.  Everyone in my neighborhood looks out for each other, but the other night when my Yaay (mother in Wolof) and Papa were at a Muslim brotherhood celebration in Touba and my sister and I were drinking Ataaya at a friend’s house my sense of community increased ten-fold.  On our way home Thiané and I stopped at the boutique not to buy something, but to pick up our key.  Only one key to my house exists, as I discovered last night, and when no one is home (which rarely happens), we leave our key at our local boutique.  There it sat behind the counter among 5 other sets of keys from the neighborhood. 

In the United States putting that much trust into a small boutique might seem dangerous, but I suddenly felt not only a new sense of neighborhood, but secure as well.  For me, the idea of these boutiques localizes globalization.  Every time I see one I am reminded that life is about human interaction not mass production.  These boutiques are not only local staples for acquiring goods but for my family and the Senegalese, they are another form of kinship and trust.

Do You Know Where Akon's House Is?

I cannot believe that I have officially been here for two weeks today.  This past week went by in a flash as it was filled with: our first week of classes, 3 trips to separate beaches, discovering more of my neighborhood, like the Ouakam market, learning Wolof proverbs from my Papa, borrowing all my host sister’s clothes and jewelry, continuously bonding with my Toubab friends, and ending with a day trip to the Island of Gorée yesterday.

My classes have started on a good note.  My brain breathes a sigh of relief as I walk into my last of four classes, Education and Culture, on Mondays and Wednesdays, as the other three are completely in French.  However, Tuesdays and Thursdays are easier, with only one class on Tuesdays and two on Thursdays.  My parents have insisted that I they help with my Wolof, French, and any other homework I might have which is what led to my Papa wandering our house on Wednesday acting out Wolof Proverbs.  One in particular: “Dakh sa guanar wakhalé sa sokhla” which translates into “if you have something bad to say to someone, say it to the animals around you instead.”  As you can imagine my Papa was walking around the living room pretending to yell at chickens.

On Thursday a group of us took advantage of our late classes and went over to the Ouakam Thursday market where I bought two dresses for $5.  It was basically a giant Goodwill.  We even saw a shirt with a Goodwill tag on it.  I have never seen a market like this, people literally digging through piles of clothes and then bartering (Waxahale in Wolof) for a good price.  It was an eye-opening experience.

On Friday a group of us went to Ngor beach which is a 5 minute Pirogue (boat) ride from the Island of Ngor.  My friend’s Camilla, Molly and I met two guys, Moussa and Taco (his name wasn’t really Taco), who told us they would walk us around the small 2km island, which they did kindly.  We had also heard that Akon had a house on Ngor, so of course we asked them to show us.  Instead we ended up walking through a small surf commune on the island and unfortunately never found Akon’s house.

Camilla, Molly, and I with our guides

Pirogue

The Surf Commune aka Akon's House

Yesterday we took an excursion to the Island of Gorée, about a 15 minute ferry ride from downtown Dakar.  Of course my camera died the minute we arrived on the Gorée but it reminded me of a small European Island, very similar to Murano and Burano in Italy actually.  Gorée is known as one of the busiest slave trading Islands, as it was a transfer point for the Europeans during the slave trade era.  Gorée still has a lot of beautiful old architecture and monuments but now it is a tourist destination crawling with very aggressive vendors.  My friends and I were quite literally pulled into a conclave of stalls by a group of women and asked to buy things that we very overpriced.  We were bombarded with “you are very pretty, I give you the best price,” or “come see my stall, you’re other friends are looking also.” After escaping that ordeal we wandered across the island and up to the top where there we a lot of beautiful paintings and cool embroidery.  I bought a small painting of 4 people dancing, made with paint and fabric strips.  Unfortunately, it was hazy yesterday so we could barely make out the Dakar skyline in the distance at the top of the island.

Coming into Gorée

A garden on Gorée

That was my past week in a nutshell.  I am getting to the point where this place is starting to feel like home.  I am familiar with my neighborhood, I love my new friends and family, and I am looking forward to what is to come, Inshallah.