Hail to Obama 009
April 12, 2009
The way things work here always astonishes me slightly, but I guess this is all part of the charm of being in Senegal. I have been to a lovely fishing village called Toubab Dialaw about three times now (http://www.traveling-stories-
Marieme is a necklace seller stationed just outside one of the more upscale hotels in the area. Her ‘shop’ consists of about a yard or so of fabric spread on the ground. She removes the necklaces from her enormous woven basket, (which is generally perched atop her head on her way to work), arranges them carefully on the cloth, and voila – she is ready for business.
I think it was her baby Babacar that caused us to enter into our first conversation, as he is utterly adorable. Three unneeded necklaces later, we were all fast friends. When I returned to the area last weekend for a visit, bringing copies of the photos I had taken last time for Marieme and her family to keep, I asked where I could eat a really good thiebou dieune, the national rice dish with fish and vegetables (http://www.traveling-stories-
It never occurred to me that I might be invited home, but that was exactly what happened as a result, and around two that afternoon she left her colleagues to attend to her wares while she walked me through her village to her home. Like the majority of local homes, there was a stereo and electricity, but neither a stove nor a fridge. Since the locals often have neither the luxury of gas supplied through a mains pipe, nor the certainty of being able to pay a regular monthly bill, gas must be bought in containable units stored in canisters, and continually replaced when the canister runs out.
To Expat or Not?
October 7, 2008
One of the biggest difficulties you are confronted with when living and working abroad is developing a social circle. As a schoolteacher, you have plenty of daily social interaction, but of course evenings and weekends are a different story altogether. High-minded and lofty idealist that I am, I had decided not to seek out the local expatriate circles here in Dakar, arguing that if I just wanted to spend my time with US citizens, I could just as easily have stayed at home.
But take it from me: no matter how seasoned a traveler you may be, there is something inherently wonderful in interacting with someone who knows your culture intimately, who can laugh with you at a random reference to an Entenmann’s crumb cake or a Brady Bunch episode, who can enjoy the subtleties of your native tongue or appreciate a play on words.
Waiting for the Barbarians
May 8, 2008
“So when you first agreed to come, did you think you would find us swinging from trees and stuff?” asked one of my students eagerly, to the sound of giggles all around.
