Bizzaro Santa

There are about 6 kids who live in my house right now. I’m not completely sure about how they are all related to the family. They’ve told me their names before, but I forgot them all pretty quickly. One of the kids is a talibe and Moctar told me that the child has a curse of kleptomania on him, so I should always keep my room locked so he won’t steal anything. It’s a lot more likely that his maribou just told him to steal things and the kid is doing it to avoid a beating. Anyway, all the kids are all really nice to me, and I play with them sometimes. They showed me their little games in Wolof, and I tried to teach them leapfrog where you jump over the person in front of you, but after I jumped over the first kid, I kneeled on the ground, it resembled the Islamic prayer position, and they thought I was trying to pray or teaching them some kind of prayer game. They all ran over and kneeled down and started praying beside me in Arabic and it was all very confusing. Here is a picture of the kids in my house holding some beanie babies that my grandmother gave me to give them when I came home for Christmas.

There aren’t any behavior problems with the kids in the house, but sometimes if I am teaching little kids, they can be huge brats. Back in October when I was teaching at a little day care center, I had to deal with misbehaving kids all the time and it was hard because most of the kids only spoke Wolof at that age. The other teachers just smack the kids in the face or hit them with a stick, but I would just send them to the corner which seemed to work ok. I really don’t like the disciplinary methods here. Most of them would land you in prison in the states. Smacking a crying child in the face is just so heartless. There was a nicer Senegalese lady who showed us a punishment called “pumpay” where the children go stand in the corner and squat and stand repeatedly while holding onto their ears, like they are a water pump. This worked pretty well, and I use it whenever I am teaching little kids.

At one talibe center around Christmas, there was a special method to enforcing behavior. Santa Clause. But probably not in the way you are thinking. He was used as negative reinforcement, as in, you had better be good or Santa will come and take you away. Santa isn’t coming for you, but for you. I guess this is the way he is celebrated in the bizarro world. Then they had this terrifying little Santa figurine hanging from a string and they went around to the misbehaving kids and dangled it in front of their faces and they would start crying (I didn’t work at this school. The story was told to me by one of the other volunteers). Over Christmas, Delaney got asked to play the part of Santa (a good Santa) at one of the talibe care centers. Of course, it isn’t every young girl’s dream to be asked to play the part of Santa Clause, but they told her she would be a good Santa because she is white, and apparently, Santa is white even in African countries. Then she told them she was actually Asian, and the answer they gave her was similar to a “close enough” response.

House Tour

The internet was working really well today, so i took the opportunity to post a little video tour of my house. The house is fairly empty because the kids were at school, but you get to meet some of my family as well.

Night of the living.....well no one really knew what it was

There have been times during my stay where I have eaten questionable things. Some food here could pass for fear factor challenges, but not often. However, last Tuesday I was eating at Delaney’s house with some other volunteers (Georgina from England, and Chelsea who is Delaney’s friend visiting from the states) and we came across a strangely shaped piece of meat in the lunch bowl. It looked like a long fried carrot, but made of meat. Its shaft-like appearance worried me, because I’ve been told they do use every part of the sheep for something. I was pretty sure it wasn’t a penis, so I was about to try some then thought, you know, I should be totally sure this isn’t a penis before I decide to eat it. With some situations, “pretty sure” just doesn’t cut it, and this was one of them. Fortunately, Madame Bow doesn’t speak English, so we were able to talk to each other about what it might be, and used French to ask her questions. The conversation went something like this:

Me: So what do you think that thing is?

Delaney: I think it’s some intestine

Chelsea: I don’t think so

Me: You don’t think it’s the…….

Georgina: Oh no.

Delaney: Madame Bow, what is that?

Mm Bow: It is the meat.

Delaney: From where?

Mm Bow: It is from the sheep.

Delaney: What part?

(silence)

Chelsea: dear god.

Me: Do you remember if it was a boy or a girl sheep, Delaney?

Delaney: No, but help me hide it under the rice.

Mm Bow: I hope you like the food. What we don’t finish now we will have for dinner.

Mm Bow has a refrigerator and recycles meat if you don’t eat it. Delaney told a tale of a piece of mysterious meat surviving 5 meals. It was like some monster in a horror movie that refused to die. You’d think that surely it won’t be back this time then you start into the rice and discover that it has returned and you drop your spoon in horror.

We ate in town that night, hoping, praying that the meat would be gone the next day, Delaney says that on cold stormy nights, it can be seen out by the dinner bowl, just looking and waiting for an unsuspecting volunteer to drop by. So ends the tail of the meat that wouldn’t die.

It must be disease karma

Hello all. I had a wonderful time being home for the holidays, and I am now back in Senegal. It’s been a while since I’ve last posted, just because my non-African life isn’t incredibly interesting. The holiday break was spent with family and friends, and I finished some applications for graduate school and for work when I return to the US for good. Going home was definitely a culture shock, especially going from 80 degree weather in Dakar, to 20 degree weather at the New York airport. I spent the day in Dakar with another volunteer (Julie from Denmark) before my flight, and here are some pictures of Gorée Island, a location being famous for holding slaves in the 1800s. The island is incredibly small, and you can see everything there in about an hour.



It was also nice to eat a ton of American food again. I lost about 15 pounds during the past 4 months in Senegal, and I tried to get most of that back over the holidays, aided greatly by my grandmother’s supplying of food. As far as adjusting back to Africa, I’m doing well. It’s hard for it to really be a smooth transition. I’ve moved to different places in the states several times, and usually the biggest adjustment I’ve had to make is figuring out a new set of tv channels. There’s that moment of panic when my favorite show is starting and I can’t find the channel it’s on. Frantically flipping around, tivo-less and confused. Here it’s a bit different, just because every single daily act is completely different. You almost feel like you are living someone else’s life. I am glad to be back though. I missed my Senegalese friends and some of the other volunteers. My Senegalese family also redecorated my room while I was gone, brightening it up with some festive blues. They are so sweet.

I also decided not to post the video of the sheep killing during Tabaski on the blog. I watched it after I got back to the states and thought it was a little grotesque to be put up.

During the time I was gone, there was a big turnover of volunteers. There are still a few oldies left, and my friends Delaney (Portland) and Sara (England) were here when I first arrived, and will be here for a while yet, so I hang with them mostly. Also while I was gone, Sara, who was the one to give me the nickname “Salmonella Steve” (which I am still struggling to shake) has herself contracted the same illness. A sweeter comeuppance I have not known. What’s perfect is that her name also begins with an “s” so I will be henceforth referring to her as “Salmonella Sara”. When I found out she had it, I tried my best to appear sympathetic, but inside I was doing jumping jacks. One can’t help but bask in the sweet irony.

Also a note. To those of you who sent me support money, you may have noticed that some checks have not yet been cashed. This is because I received some after I had left, so over the break I mailed them to Projects Abroad and they will be cashed soon. Sorry about the delay and thank you all so much!