Advice to newcomers part two
I had a bit of trouble sleeping last night, so I figured I'd jot down some more words of wisdom. However I ended up jotting down a lot more, so here's part two of yesterday's saga. It's a bit more advice for once you're here, than a packing list. I feel like this advice is much more insightful of the lifestyle you'll be adjusting to, and a lot more fun to write. So here goes...
More...
Advice to newcomers part 1
Sorry about being such a shoddy blogger. It’s been a while since I put up some substantial text, and this will likely be the last hardcore post. I’ve heard that there are a number of students already signed up for the fall semester, which is really exciting. I’ve also noticed that I’ve been getting some more views lately, so I’m sure one trend has a direct relation with the other. So this issue of the Amy saga goes out to all you aspiring travelers. In addition to posting about my excellent village stay in Mboumbay I thought it might be helpful to send some advice out to all you new cats on the block. It will also be a great view into life here.
So this section is entitled: Things you didn’t know you’d need to know about Senegal...
More...
photo dump2
miche and i got some excellent weaves by the teenage chicks there
home sweet home
still has best sunsets in world, i got to swim through this one
my hand and jacob's toenails hennified!
Jeneba was an angel and a trip rolled into one
the koranic school and mosque. notice all the tiny shoes!
a mini exhibition after breakfast one day
the 4k walk to school every day
how you put a weave in without electricity, makeshift headlamp
around every corner there were hordes of kids spying on toubab activities
neighbor's house
brushing my teeth in the "sink" in twilighty morning before we left
photo dump
This is the fabric market, HLM.
All the rest are the paradise school, Dior, where I did my final observation. This is what I think of as the Garden of Eden. I have dozens of pictures of it, but don't think anyone else quite shared my deep seeded passion so I spared you.
All these photos are Miche's
On the way to Keur Gu Magg! Sweet curtains.
This is from Keur Gu Mag. Our host mom Khady making ataaya. I don't think I mentioned anything about ataaya yet. It's a traditional tea served out of tiny little glasses. It's brewed several times, and is very strong in comparison to the American stuff, with a nice hint of mint and plenty of sugar. After being brewed it's poured like this from glass to glass to cool it while providing a nice foam. It's supposed to be served in three rounds, which takes quite a while especially with a lot of people. I tried to do the cooling/foaming pour and spilled tea everywhere! It's harder than it looks.
This is the mosque in Diorbel, right near the village of Keur Gu Magg. It's a holy site because it was the mosque where Amadou Bamba, the Mourride leader, disappeared/died. The mosque still holds some of his artifacts, like his staff encased in gold.
All the ladies went out for some Ethiopian food the other night. Delish
these guys are everywhere
More...
Problems and Difficulties
They can’t all be good days. I thought it might be a good idea to write some of the not so wonderful Senegal experiences, in order to paint a more accurate picture of life here.
More...
Keur Gu Mag
The village was beautiful. The house Miche Anne As Buba and I stayed in had this as a back yard. Plus gardens, hammocks, drums, Koras (a string instrument), outdoor beds, outdoor entertainment system, a gazebo hut thing, and a table mosaiced to the floor. Our host mom, Khadi I think, was an incredible cook, knew exactly what to do with vegetarians, and read our fortunes with shells! A few of the guys there put on a little play, and were so funny and just had such huge characters. The last night there was Jacob's birthday so we all danced, and one of the guys gave Jacob a pair of Chias, the hilarious diaper-style huge pant things. Best birthday gift ever.
!
I don't know if they plan it, but since we've arrived, every village stay has a full moon.
helping to cook lunch
The purpose of this village stay was to do Appreciative Inquiry, which is a way of conducting interviews that asks questions about success and dreams, with a motive of starting development projects. My general area was Agriculture and I had the opportunity to go to a few farms and see how it's done.
This was the first farm, owned by another Khady (there are so many Khadies here.) I was glad to hear that she owned the land. According to her, and everyone we interviewed after, the biggest problem is water. In the past one only had to dig a short way down and they'd hit water. Now one must hire expensive machines to come and dig wells extending over 30m down, which must be extended every few years. There is tap water available, but it comes from Touba, is salty and not very healthy. Most people only use it for washing, and drink the local well water. Irrigation is also difficult, and many dreamed for water solutions.
One technique for conserving water was placing banana plants around the wells to make use of runoff.
First time I've seen any sort of citrus growing! And boy did they grow all sorts of things on the tiny football field sized farms. Papaya, lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, lemons, mandarines, limes, oranges, grapefruit, mangoes, bananas, cherries, eggplants, dates, morenga (used for diabetics) and eucalyptus just to name a few.
What you see here is a homemade irrigation system fashioned by a local genius. He had all sorts of weird levers, tubes, and devices for pumping, delivering and distributing. The man didn't speak a lick of French, and I don't think he ever went to school. So amazing.
That's all for now folks!
More...
A Great Weekend
After this weekend I think I’ve gotten over Stage 2 of culture shock according to Sam’s travel book. (Stage 1 is euphoria, Stage 2 is characterized by bitterness and being a hypochondriac, Stage 3 is acceptance)
It started with a nice evening of cards on Friday night at Sisco and Lulu’s house with them, Anne, Samba, and me.
More...
A boring little update
AU@43qvbswzzzzzzzbxz3eswdf555555555555gggggggggg
ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggds4g444444444
4444444xcccccccccccccccccDDS* Vvvvvvvvvvvvveddddddd
ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd4eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee33333333333333
333sa!EEEEEEEEE
That intro was masterfully typed by my kitten, who’s now named ‘Bideo,’ which is the Wolof word for ‘star’. He’s getting big fast, and is becoming a crucial piece to the Ndoy family. Let me paint you a picture of this afternoon. Its lunch time, anywhere between 1 and 3, and Ndaiye Samb (my mom), Mari (my sister), Mustafa (my brother), Bideo and I are all sitting outside out house enjoying the down time. The alley outside our house is a mixture of broken concrete and sand. I sit on our brick porch with the bright warm sun on me, knitting a hat for my host dad. Marie and Ndaiye are plopped in a pile of construction sand that’s been slowly diminishing over the past few weeks. Tafa is jumping rope and we all take turns, even my mom. Mari can jump rope like it’s her job, and Tafa just tries to do tricks. All sorts of people pass, and everyone gets handshakes and a “Naka wa Ker ga?” (How’s your family?) We build a sand house for the cat, called Chez Bideo. (As a side note the Wolof word for cat is ‘muus’, pronounced like ‘moose.’) A horse cart rumbles past and Bideo who was busy chasing Tafa’s jump rope gets all sorts of wide-eyed and bushy tailed before bolting into the house at lighting speed. Then Fatou, our maid, comes out with bags of lait caille, a delicious yoghurt-y type snack, to share. When I say bags, I mean sandwich bags filled and knotted off. All sorts of things (popsicles, water, yoghurt, bissap, tamarind, and buy- the fruit of baobab) are served like this. You just bite off a corner and suck out the yummy-ness. Down the street are the Talibe children, sitting on the ground in a circle, eating whatever they’ve scored for lunch. Sometimes they come over and play soccer with my brothers and me. The whole scene was just absolutely pleasant, and gives one an idea of the pace of things here.
More...
Loose ends
I realize I end a lot of these blogs saying “I’ll tell you more about this later” and never tell. Well let me take some time to tie up loose ends.
I don’t remember too much about the day I chased the President, but I’ll share whatever memories I can dust off. It was pre-election day, so there was a lot of pro-somebody sentiment in the air. The Wade sentiment was definitely the strongest too, as one can see by his landslide in the polls. Anyway, I was hanging out with Max, who is a Senegalese friend mentioned often in the blog.
More...
There is peace, and there are no worries
Beautiful things happen again. I realized this today when the smell of Cafe Touba came to me. I was searching for something to put more nutrients in my body than rice and fish alone can provide, and a very welcome smell came. Cafe Touba is coffee, but there is another ingredient that makes it unexplainably unlike any other coffee. The smell takes me back a week to my visit with Racine and Amy to the city Touba for the Mourid holiday, the Grand Magal, and back farther to my first encounter with the drink a few weeks ago.
More...
NEXT page
Advice to newcomers part two
I had a bit of trouble sleeping last night, so I figured I'd jot down some more words of wisdom. However I ended up jotting down a lot more, so here's part two of yesterday's saga. It's a bit more advice for once you're here, than a packing list. I feel like this advice is much more insightful of the lifestyle you'll be adjusting to, and a lot more fun to write. So here goes... More...
Advice to newcomers part 1
Sorry about being such a shoddy blogger. It’s been a while since I put up some substantial text, and this will likely be the last hardcore post. I’ve heard that there are a number of students already signed up for the fall semester, which is really exciting. I’ve also noticed that I’ve been getting some more views lately, so I’m sure one trend has a direct relation with the other. So this issue of the Amy saga goes out to all you aspiring travelers. In addition to posting about my excellent village stay in Mboumbay I thought it might be helpful to send some advice out to all you new cats on the block. It will also be a great view into life here.
So this section is entitled: Things you didn’t know you’d need to know about Senegal...
More...
photo dump2
miche and i got some excellent weaves by the teenage chicks there
home sweet home
still has best sunsets in world, i got to swim through this one
my hand and jacob's toenails hennified!
Jeneba was an angel and a trip rolled into one
the koranic school and mosque. notice all the tiny shoes!
a mini exhibition after breakfast one day
the 4k walk to school every day
how you put a weave in without electricity, makeshift headlamp
around every corner there were hordes of kids spying on toubab activities
neighbor's house
brushing my teeth in the "sink" in twilighty morning before we left
photo dump
This is the fabric market, HLM.
All the rest are the paradise school, Dior, where I did my final observation. This is what I think of as the Garden of Eden. I have dozens of pictures of it, but don't think anyone else quite shared my deep seeded passion so I spared you.
All these photos are Miche's
On the way to Keur Gu Magg! Sweet curtains.
This is from Keur Gu Mag. Our host mom Khady making ataaya. I don't think I mentioned anything about ataaya yet. It's a traditional tea served out of tiny little glasses. It's brewed several times, and is very strong in comparison to the American stuff, with a nice hint of mint and plenty of sugar. After being brewed it's poured like this from glass to glass to cool it while providing a nice foam. It's supposed to be served in three rounds, which takes quite a while especially with a lot of people. I tried to do the cooling/foaming pour and spilled tea everywhere! It's harder than it looks.
This is the mosque in Diorbel, right near the village of Keur Gu Magg. It's a holy site because it was the mosque where Amadou Bamba, the Mourride leader, disappeared/died. The mosque still holds some of his artifacts, like his staff encased in gold.
All the ladies went out for some Ethiopian food the other night. Delish
these guys are everywhere
More...
Problems and Difficulties
They can’t all be good days. I thought it might be a good idea to write some of the not so wonderful Senegal experiences, in order to paint a more accurate picture of life here. More...
Keur Gu Mag
The village was beautiful. The house Miche Anne As Buba and I stayed in had this as a back yard. Plus gardens, hammocks, drums, Koras (a string instrument), outdoor beds, outdoor entertainment system, a gazebo hut thing, and a table mosaiced to the floor. Our host mom, Khadi I think, was an incredible cook, knew exactly what to do with vegetarians, and read our fortunes with shells! A few of the guys there put on a little play, and were so funny and just had such huge characters. The last night there was Jacob's birthday so we all danced, and one of the guys gave Jacob a pair of Chias, the hilarious diaper-style huge pant things. Best birthday gift ever.
!
I don't know if they plan it, but since we've arrived, every village stay has a full moon.
helping to cook lunch
The purpose of this village stay was to do Appreciative Inquiry, which is a way of conducting interviews that asks questions about success and dreams, with a motive of starting development projects. My general area was Agriculture and I had the opportunity to go to a few farms and see how it's done.
This was the first farm, owned by another Khady (there are so many Khadies here.) I was glad to hear that she owned the land. According to her, and everyone we interviewed after, the biggest problem is water. In the past one only had to dig a short way down and they'd hit water. Now one must hire expensive machines to come and dig wells extending over 30m down, which must be extended every few years. There is tap water available, but it comes from Touba, is salty and not very healthy. Most people only use it for washing, and drink the local well water. Irrigation is also difficult, and many dreamed for water solutions.
One technique for conserving water was placing banana plants around the wells to make use of runoff.
First time I've seen any sort of citrus growing! And boy did they grow all sorts of things on the tiny football field sized farms. Papaya, lettuce, cabbage, tomatoes, lemons, mandarines, limes, oranges, grapefruit, mangoes, bananas, cherries, eggplants, dates, morenga (used for diabetics) and eucalyptus just to name a few.
What you see here is a homemade irrigation system fashioned by a local genius. He had all sorts of weird levers, tubes, and devices for pumping, delivering and distributing. The man didn't speak a lick of French, and I don't think he ever went to school. So amazing.
That's all for now folks!
More...
A Great Weekend
After this weekend I think I’ve gotten over Stage 2 of culture shock according to Sam’s travel book. (Stage 1 is euphoria, Stage 2 is characterized by bitterness and being a hypochondriac, Stage 3 is acceptance)
It started with a nice evening of cards on Friday night at Sisco and Lulu’s house with them, Anne, Samba, and me.
More...
A boring little update
AU@43qvbswzzzzzzzbxz3eswdf555555555555gggggggggg
ggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggds4g444444444
4444444xcccccccccccccccccDDS* Vvvvvvvvvvvvveddddddd
ddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd4eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee33333333333333
333sa!EEEEEEEEE
That intro was masterfully typed by my kitten, who’s now named ‘Bideo,’ which is the Wolof word for ‘star’. He’s getting big fast, and is becoming a crucial piece to the Ndoy family. Let me paint you a picture of this afternoon. Its lunch time, anywhere between 1 and 3, and Ndaiye Samb (my mom), Mari (my sister), Mustafa (my brother), Bideo and I are all sitting outside out house enjoying the down time. The alley outside our house is a mixture of broken concrete and sand. I sit on our brick porch with the bright warm sun on me, knitting a hat for my host dad. Marie and Ndaiye are plopped in a pile of construction sand that’s been slowly diminishing over the past few weeks. Tafa is jumping rope and we all take turns, even my mom. Mari can jump rope like it’s her job, and Tafa just tries to do tricks. All sorts of people pass, and everyone gets handshakes and a “Naka wa Ker ga?” (How’s your family?) We build a sand house for the cat, called Chez Bideo. (As a side note the Wolof word for cat is ‘muus’, pronounced like ‘moose.’) A horse cart rumbles past and Bideo who was busy chasing Tafa’s jump rope gets all sorts of wide-eyed and bushy tailed before bolting into the house at lighting speed. Then Fatou, our maid, comes out with bags of lait caille, a delicious yoghurt-y type snack, to share. When I say bags, I mean sandwich bags filled and knotted off. All sorts of things (popsicles, water, yoghurt, bissap, tamarind, and buy- the fruit of baobab) are served like this. You just bite off a corner and suck out the yummy-ness. Down the street are the Talibe children, sitting on the ground in a circle, eating whatever they’ve scored for lunch. Sometimes they come over and play soccer with my brothers and me. The whole scene was just absolutely pleasant, and gives one an idea of the pace of things here.
More...
Loose ends
I realize I end a lot of these blogs saying “I’ll tell you more about this later” and never tell. Well let me take some time to tie up loose ends.
I don’t remember too much about the day I chased the President, but I’ll share whatever memories I can dust off. It was pre-election day, so there was a lot of pro-somebody sentiment in the air. The Wade sentiment was definitely the strongest too, as one can see by his landslide in the polls. Anyway, I was hanging out with Max, who is a Senegalese friend mentioned often in the blog.
More...
There is peace, and there are no worries
Beautiful things happen again. I realized this today when the smell of Cafe Touba came to me. I was searching for something to put more nutrients in my body than rice and fish alone can provide, and a very welcome smell came. Cafe Touba is coffee, but there is another ingredient that makes it unexplainably unlike any other coffee. The smell takes me back a week to my visit with Racine and Amy to the city Touba for the Mourid holiday, the Grand Magal, and back farther to my first encounter with the drink a few weeks ago. More...
NEXT page |
