Jozy in Africa

I keep having dreams of me leaving Dakar under completely different circumstances.  In the dreams I’ve been glad to go home, taking a mini-van from a cliff, taking a ferry to Europe, looking back at a coast that looks like Maine, and panicked after missing a flight.  I’m interpreting these dreams as me missing Senegal. 
It’s been 14 weeks but it seems like so much longer ago that I was in Dakar.  I’ll be heading back to Boston in one week and sometimes I can’t help but wish I was headed back to Dakar instead.  After being home for so long I’ve realized how much I really did learn and change while abroad.  I miss the constant sense of adventure, speaking French and Wolof, going to markets to do my shopping, the friends I made and so much more. 

 I want to make a scrap book during this semester, it will be nice to reflect and remember the stories that go along with all my pictures.  And though this blog was extremely helpful in recording my experiences it’d be nice to have it all in a book.  I hope to make it back someday soon.  In the meantime I really need to write my host family a postcard!

My friend Alice says it perfectly (except I haven’t been taking out books on Senegal, just Africa memoirs).

dakardays:

a lot of nutella

and bubble baths

and salads with more than 3 ingredients

and checking out 15 books at a time on Senegal/Africa

and dreams that forget airplanes and borders exist

and a sad, increasing distance from the four dry, foreign months that were like nothing i’d ever experienced

Upon my arrival back in the states I had someone ask me if everyone was running around in loincloths with toes hanging around their necks. Not only was this horribly stereotypical but completely wrong! Dakar has quite the sense of style. Women don’t leave the house without looking their best and men sport well pressed boubous.

Women always dress to impress. My host mother never came downstairs in anything less than a well put together boubou, lots of gold jewelry, make-up done, and eyebrows painted on. Let’s start with the clothes. Women are mostly covered, you’d see very few ankles walking around, but arms and heads were fine. There are two major styles of outfits. One is a “tibask.” It consists of a long skirt with nicely fitted, embellished top, both in the same fabric. The other is a boubou which are mostly worn by older women. It’s a long skirt and a long shirt/tunic dress, usually with long sleeves that falls anywhere between your knees and ankles. Boubous are usually topped off with matching fabric wrapped around the head and a sheer, embellished scarf wrapped around the shoulders. An outfit might have 3 articles (head wrap, shirt, and skirt) but it’s all out of the same fabric, very little mixing and matching.

Men port a much simpler boubou. It’s a pair of pants with a shirt (long or short sleeved) of varying lengths, waist to feet, with pockets, embellished necklines and comes in varying fabrics, but always the same on top and bottom. Some men wore hats, prayer beads, and gris-gris around their arms. A gris-gris is tradition mixed with religion. It’s meant to protect you and you can buy specific ones too, like for cars, your house, bad dreams, health, etc.  A small colored leather pouch containing Quaranic verses on a string tied around the arm or waist. Men’s shoes were interesting. They rock jellies! Remember jellies? Those clear plastic strappy sandals? Yup, they’re still in style in Senegal. Most men wore jellies or pointy leather slip on shoes. Espadrilles were also gaining popularity while I was there, but I could never find any in my size.

But where do you get such great clothes like this? In Senegal there are very few ready-made stores and they tend to be much more expensive. So what you do, and my friends and I had a lot of fun with this, is you go to the market and do tons of searching for the perfect fabric. Then you have to barter with the seller to get a good price. I would usually buy 3 meters of fabric for 3,000 CFA, just over $6.  Then you make a trip to the family tailor to have your clothes custom made. It’s amazing the work these tailors do. I was very impressed with my tailor Pop’s ability to make western style clothes. I’d often give him a printed out picture or just sketch something myself and return 3 or 4 days later to pick up my garments. Pop was conveniently located 1minute away from my front door so I could go home to try things on and go back with any adjustments. Skirts usually cost $4, dresses $6, a tibask $10, adjustments were free, and he made me a bunch of little bags with the left over materials for free.

Accessories, oh my, you can’t leave the house without your accessories. We’re talking big, big earrings, necklaces, dozens of gold bracelets, head wraps, matching scarves, bedazzled shoes, the Senegalese like to accessorize. Hair was also an important part of your outfit. Very few Senegalese women have natural hair, (colonialism? It’s still up for debate). At markets you can buy strands of fake hair to weave into yours and wigs too. Eating lunch one day my host sister kept scratching her head, finally my other host sister reached over, plucked her wig off her sisters head and threw it to the ground. On another occasion I came out of my room to have my sisters holding a string of hair between themselves, and they were about 12 feet apart, Adama was showing off her new weave to be. When women are young getting fake hair is very popular but I got the feeling from a discussion with my host mom that once you’re older it becomes materialistic.  Older women keep their hair short and often wear a hair wrap of sorts, it’s much easier and it keeps your hair clean is what host mama told me. I get it. But when you get older you don’t stop wearing makeup. And lots of it, heavy eye makeup, lip liner, foundation, and a surprising amount of women paint their eyebrows on, sometimes in purple or blue. I’m not sure the reason for this, maybe it’s easier to draw on the shape you want than plucking or waxing? Xam uma (I don’t know).

That’s all I can think of to say, for a better idea check out the pictures. A lot of American clothing seems kind of dull now. I miss seeing all the bright colors and people looking their best. I miss market adventures and the satisfaction of doing a good job bartering. And I miss Pop, so nice and conveniently located, always happy to see us and fix our clothes up nice. Pop and market vendors, we’ll meet again, insha’allah.

I’vebeen back for almost a week now. It still feels a bit strange sometimes, very cold, and there are definitely days when I miss Dakar or wake up confused to be in my bed on Case Road.  I want to make one last post about fashion and getting clothes made in Dakar but need to get my pictures organized first, so that should be in days to come.  For right now my favorite marriage proposal story.

“Do you have a husband?” and “I want my second wife to be American” are two statements I heard rather frequently in day to day conversations with people.  I usually lied and said I had a husband already or said I was waiting untill I finished my studies to get married, which everyone thought was a very good reason.  And that would end that conversation. Everyone was very nice about it and not threatening at all, just very upfront.  My favorite proposal was my last day in Dakar.  I was walking home from doing errands when I heard someone yell in English “Wife!”. Not being anyone’s wife I ignored it and kept walking.  Then out of the corner of my eye I saw someone pull a U-turn on their motorcycle in heavy traffic to pull up next to me smiling and say again, in more of a questioning tone this time, “Wife?”.  I smiled and laughed a bit, told him I was already married but have a nice day and he zoomed off.  No harm done, just another walk down Cheikh Anto Diop.

This feels unreal, my flight is 12 hours from now.  Where did four months go?  I wasn’t feeling anxious/ready to get home until today.  Just about everyone in my program left Friday so I’ve been solo in the city for a bit which got me eager to go home as well.  My suitcases are packed and everything fits, I’ve taken my last cold shower, got in some last minute tanning on my roof and now I’m ready.  It’s been an amazing experience, the most challenging one of my life, but also the most enriching and rewarding. 

Merci beaucoup Senegal and ba beneen yoon, insha’allah!

One thing I have really missed this semester is working at the MFA and being around art.  This, having lots of free time, and parents who wanted African artwork made gallery hunting a bit of a hobby these past months.  Because only the biggest/most official businesses have websites a simple Google search wasn’t very helpful.  I used my Lonely Planet guidebook and quickly realized the author probably hadn’t actually been to many of these galleries.  As with many things in mon livre de Lonely a lot of the galleries were exaggerated, have hit hard times since she was in  town, or no longer exist.  This got frustrating at times as I would map out a gallery hunt having a great plan in my head only to not be able to find the place or be disappointed once I got there.  But there is cool art here! I eventually found a few more legitimate galleries and there’s a decent amount of public art in varying conditions. 

     Last week I went to Village d’Arts in Yoff with a few friends.  I went with zero expectations and was really impressed once we got there.  It’s not so much of a gallery, though there is a small one with natural lighting, a sand floor, and artwork for sale, as workshop studios.  There were 5 or 6 long columns of studios with green court yard space in between, it would be a very peaceful setting to work in, you no longer felt like you were in the city.  In the back was a larger space for metal and wood working.  We talked to a few of the artists and it sounded like they came from all over West  Africa and you can use studio space for as long as you want free of charge, one artist even invited us to come back and paint if we felt so inspired.

     I find public art in Dakar to be very hit or miss.  The VDN, a major highway leading out of the city, has really amazing mosaic tile murals on its overpasses that are still in great shape, round-abouts sport sculptures and fountains of marble or bronze, some brand new, some falling apart, some without water, it really varies.  And then there’s the Monument de le Renaissance a towering bronze monument designed by the Koreans on top of one of the Mamelles (2 big hills in Dakar) that magically never loses power.  Also worth noting is that the president receives 30% of the revenue because it was his idea (you can pay to go inside and look out of the man’s forehead like the Statue of Liberty).  The monument is of a man, a women, and  baby facing the north, wind blowing through their hair.  What I don’t like about is that the man is disproportionate to the women, whom he is dragging along, and she doesn’t look happy about going.  The baby is seated on his bicep, which is just strange.  When you ask locals what they think of the monument answers vary a bit but most people enthusiastically tell you they’re not a fan.  However it is worth the view of the city to walk up all the steps to the base of the monument.

     And the last bit of artwork I’ve enjoyed, the most pervasive, is the people.  Women dress in bright bright colors, buses are proudly painted despite the rust, well done graffiti brightens up cement walls, fruit stands add a splash of color to sandy sidewalks, faded shade umbrellas line the sidewalks guarding stands where you can find just about anything,  and there’s a surprising amount of birds, flowers, and trees considering it’s a city.  And that’s some of the beauty I’ve found in Dakar.  You have to look past the construction, which adds a bright red dirt to the scene, and smog and pick out the simple beauty in the people, the interactions, the buildings, the car rapides.  I wonder if locals ever go to the market and are amazed by all the color, if they appreciate the simple things that really make the city.

i don’t really have anything new to report.  i finished classes last week so have just been hanging out, doing last minute things around the city, going to the beach a lot, etc.  it’s a strange feeling knowing i’ll be back at home in just over a week.  i’m definitely excited to see everyone but at the same time i’ve grown to really love dakar and will miss the city, the weather, the fruit stands, along with other aspects. i was talking to a friend about how we felt leaving and we thought we could live here forever if we had our people with us, so home it is in one week from today.

here’s some random pictures, they’re mostly of pretty scenery but don’t be fooled, this place is very polluted.  one day this week i’m going to do a walking tour to take pictures of the real dakar, not the touristy photos.  i don’t want to sugar coat it once i’m home, i love this city trash and all so that’s what you’ll get to see next.

Here it is, the much awaited food post  It’s a tough one because there’s so much I want to say.  There are some aspects of the nourriture here I really like and other things that have not agreed with my body, I’ve gotten tired of, or are just extremely unhealthy.   Senegal has six main dishes that are on rotation as the plat du jour at any Senegalese restaurant and in my house ; chebujen, mafe, soup akianda, yassa, thiou, and lahk.  These dishes (excluding lahk) are mostly eaten just at lunch.  For dinner I’m given a fish and a little salade (lettuce) 9 nights out of 10.

Let’s start with Chebujen, it’s by far the most common and comes in two variations.  In Wolof Cheb is rice and jen is fish, through in a few veggies (which the family usually tosses aside) and you’ve got chebujen.  I’ve helped my maid make this a few times and it is quite the process.  First fish is fried in oil, then cooked in boiling water with lots of spices, at which point the veggies are tossed in.  While waiting for those to cook a slimy, green, delicious bissap sauce is made out of hibiscus leaves.  Broken rice is then steamed on top of the veggies, and just before the rice is ready to go in the water to soak up the flavor the fish and veggies are taken out.  Chebujen veggies usually include one piece each of a carrot, eggplant, turnip, bitter eggplant, squash, and  cabbage.   The rice is then spread out on a giant platter with the veggies and fish heaped on top in the middle and dollops of bissap sauce around the edges.  That’s the white chebujen, which I prefer.  Red chebujen is done the same put the water is a tomatoes paste based sauce, it’s still good, but the sauce takes away from the veggies. My family has learned, and loves to make fun of the fact that I love veggies, so the majority of them usually end up on my plate, which is not a problem.  This is about the only time I’ll get fed vegetables besides lettuce and tomatoes.

Mafe is my favorite meal here.  I usually get it for lunch from a shack (my family doesn’t make mafe) and never pay more than $1 U.S.  A few years ago when they started major construction work on Dakar all these little shack/tent food joints popped up on the side of the road to feed the construction workers who needed cheap food, but something more than a sandwich.  Walking on any side walk you’ll stumble upon a tent-like structure made of poles and miss-match worn out cheats.  Poke your head inside and you’ll see benches and possibly a table.  Women make enormous amounts of 1 or 2 dishes and sell them by the overly sized metal bowl for mad cheap, and mafe is almost always an option.   It’s a peanut based sauce that has goat meat, and if you’re lucky maybe a chunk or two of potato.  The sauce is really heavy so this shack lunch is usually split with someone.

Soupakianda, meaning soup of okra,  is by far my least favorite thing I’ve had here.   It’s an okra based sauce with obscure seafood.  At my house it’s extremely spicey and the combination of the spice, the odd taste, unidentifiable seafood, and the extremely slimy texture of the brownish green okra mush makes me wish I’d gone out for lunch.

Yassa is another staple, it’s real simple and I want to learn how to make it.   It’s mostly made with fish, but when I have yassa with chicken it’s a special day. The chicken or fish is on top of rice, and an onion sauce with lemon and lots of Jumbo.  Jumbo is a seasoning that comes in cubes that are scattered all over the house.  I don’t think a single meal in Senegal is made without at least 2 packs of Jumbo, and it apparently has lots of MSG and fake stuff, but what can ya do, yassa is delicious.

Thiou is pronounced “chew” and what I had been calling fish meatballs until I ordered it unknowingly in a shack.  I get thiou for dinner about once every other week, and I was exactly right, it is fish meatballs.  They grind up fish (though sometimes you still crunch on a bone) and make it into balls, throw in a bit of carrot and potato, and lots of onions into a brown sauce and serve it over rice. 

I have been eating increasing amounts of Lahk lately, which might explain why my initial hatred of it has turned into actually enjoying it, but it definitely takes some getting used to.   Lahk is served every Sunday and in my house every Thursday now also and for special occasions.  It’s usually ground up millet (though mine is usually over soaked rice) with sugar and salt cooked till the consistency of oatmeal, but more firm.  Then in a cup on the side you get lait caille , a really sugary unrefrigerated yogurt to which they add cream and sugar and usually let it sit out for a good 4 hours so it can curdle a bit.  I like to mix in my lait caille mixture bit by bit so that I get the cold of that contrasting with the hot millet, but sometimes host mama just mixes it all in at the same time.  It’s still good but not at all nutritious.

The last picture is what I usually eat for dinner.  The fish is literally the whole fish, minus the gills, but the eyes are still there.  It freaked me out at first but I’ve gotten used to it and have gotten good at picking around the bones.  It’s good but it’s not very filling.  Because they usually eat a big lunch at home dinner is lighter, though they’ll also have bread in addition.  Most days I don’t go home for lunch so the fish dinner leaves me waking up starving for my two hard boiled eggs with the occasional treat of fruit.

So those are the main dishes, now some general commentary cause you just gotta know how it is.  Families tend to buy things on a daily need basis, most don’t have freezers or refrigerators and there are never snack foods just laying about.  There are a few big grocery stores but they’re mostly for the foreigners.  Senegalese shop at open air market or little street boutiques.  Everything here is cooked in an abundance of cheap Ninal oil.  This is what I like least about the food here, I’ve had many a potentially good dish ruined because its drenched in oil.  Another thing I don’t understand is why they buy broken white rice from Thailand when Senegal grows the much tastier long grain rice, the buy local trend hasn’t hit here yet I guess.  Vegetables are seen as food for the poor here, so if you have money buy meat!  It’s too bad this is the mindset because vegetables are so affordable and there are women who come into the city every day and set up their small veggie stands with local, I’m sure organically grown veggies.  So I make up for my lack of vegetables with fruit.  There are fruit stands on every corner selling apples for 50 cents, bananas for a quarter, melons, oranges, grapefruit, etc. and because the season just started, mangos for 40 cents.  Fruit stands are probably what I’ll miss the most about this place.

So that’s a little bit about the food, there’s much more I could say but I don’t want to bore you, even this was probably a bit overwhelming.  For the most part my family has done a good job of feeding me but I can’t wait to get back to the states and choose what, when, and how much I want to it.  It’ll be really nice to have control over my food again and cook with things from the garden too.  Not to mention baked goods.   Senegal is not celiac friendly, delicious patisseries and cheap sandwich stands are all across the city, so I’ve been craving for some gluten-free carbs.  Just over two weeks and I’ll be making some GF blueberry pancakes (:

This past weekend we took our last WARC guided weekend trip to Saint Louis.  Saint Louis is way up north, along the border with Mauritania.  It was first a Portuguese and then a French port town.  It still had that old colonial feel to it too with brightly painted (now chipping) European style buildings set up in city-block style (very unlike Dakar).  It was really cool to see and a very relaxed weekend. 

On the drive up I noticed how much greener it was driving north than south (how I got to the Gambia).  The amount of trash on the side of the road though is unbelievable.  For the post part we’re driving through open land, a village would pop up once and a while, but even when we weren’t near a village plastic bags and other trash are all over the roadside.  It’s really too bad, and it takes away from how pretty all the green is.

Friday afternoon we took a carriage ride around the city.  It’s two islands and has sprawled out onto the mainland.  Our first night there was, of course, a “spectacle” that included drums, men on stilts, freaky fire man, and a toubab dance circle.

Saturday we took a pirogue tour around a really amazing bird reserve.  I saw lots of giant pelicans, storks, herons, cormorants, small birds, crocodiles, big spotted lizards that swam, wild boars (like in the lion king), cows, and a giant black flamingo.  There were just amazing amounts of birds at this place, and we weren’t even there in peak birding season.  After the reserve we were given the afternoon off and did some market shopping and ate at an amazing Vietnamese restaurant.

On our drive home Sunday we stopped to see a “centennial Baobob tree.”  Baobobs are the symbol of Senegal and you see them everywhere, they kind of look like Dr. Suess trees.  But this one was incredible, it’s hundreds of years old and enormous!  Baobobs grow holes that don’t kill them and that villagers put babies in for good luck.  This baobob had a gaint hole at the base of it’s trunk that you could fit at least 7 people in, it was really incredible.

I think that might have been my last adventure outside of Dakar, it was a good way to end traveling.  I have 4 weeks from yesterday left and only a few more things to check off my to-do list, so I’m feeling good about that and ready to see everyone at home!

Anonymous asked: Hey JoZy,
I want to contribute to Project Jom.
Please tell me where to find it.
SGW

just follow this link http://www.wix.com/projectjom/warc#!

and on the left you’ll see “how to donate”, just click there and follow the directions.  thank you!

update: we already reached the $4,000 needed for the pump but I believe any new donations will be put towards another pump for a new town, thank you!