Good morning!
Just had my last class and now only a few exams until freedom. School was put on hold on Tuesday for the Muslim holiday, Tabaski. It involves sacrificing sheep in celebration of the prophet Muhammed (I think), followed by eating those sheep, and then dressing up in gorgeous dresses (called boubous here) and visiting all your friends and family. The morning of, I woke up to my sisters happily clammering all over the kitchen, preparing the day's feast. I went for a walk around the neighborhood and tried not to stare at all the men dressed to the nines in their boubous, lined up shoulder to shoulder praying at the local mosque. The mosque isn't quite big enough so men lined the sidewalks as well, trailed by their sons wearing matching boubous. Precious to say the least. By the time I started walking back, I ran into my Senegalese Dad who was walking back from the mosque, faster then I had ever seen. He smiles at me and says "Time to kill the sheep!". Walking into the house, 2 sheep are tied up in our courtyard, unaware of what is to come. The past few weeks the whole city has been covered with sheep, imported from different areas of Senegal and neighboring Mali as well. You could even send a text message to win a free sheep. Apparently, this is a great deal because one sheep can cost as much as 400 US dollars. Anyway, my brother is sharpening knives and a few neighbors show up to hold down the sheep. My Senegalese Dad calls himself the "assasin" and insists we be the "paparazzi", encouraging us (my roommate and I) to take pictures through the whole act. My younger siblings come running out, laughing. Within 10 minutes, we have a sheep hanging from our tree, in order to skin it more easily. An hour later, "breakfast" is ready: french fries, onion sauce, and some bbq sheep. I have to admit, it was not as bad as I thought. I did feel a little lightheaded thinking about what I was eating, but I got over that by last night when we had meal number 5 in a row of sheep and some carbohydrate (if it is not sheep and bread, it is sheep and pasta, or sheep and rice).
In fact, I did my laundry yesterday (day after Tabaski) in the same basin that my mother had used to sift through all the body parts of our sheep, choosing which to give to our neighbors and which parts to cook. Don't worry, I have pictures. Despite the holiday not being exactly what I am used to, it was nice to have all our neighbors come over wishing us good tidings and asking for pardons (I guess you ask for pardons for sins over the year? in the dark on this one) as well as watching my family dress up. The night of Tabaski, I went to a concert (it started at 2 am- nothing seems to start earlier in Senegal) where a few local Senegalese artists performed. Senegalese are fabulous dancers as a rule and it was fun night (rather, morning).
In the next week, I will be wrapping up my work, maybe seeing some Senegalese wrestling, having goodbye dinners, harassing my tailor to finish up a few skirts I am having made, and hanging out with my friends and family.
Then the morning of the 21st, at 3 am I fly back to the US of A (like I said, everything has to happen in the wee hours of the morning). But lets not get ahead of ourselves, I still have another week!
Love
Banana
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Chere ma famille et mes amis
Less than 3 weeks left and I still seem to be having cultural "expierences" on a daily basis. Monday brought a visit to the doctor. Last week, I was feeling feverish, exhausted, and having bad headaches. I figured the 3rd world had finally kicked my butt and I'd be over it soon. But by Monday my arms were starting to ache and worse, I was actually wearing a long sleeve shirt from being cold (I still sweat regularly here). Trying to suppress thoughts of malaria, I finally made a doctor's apt. Of course, when I say made an appointment, I first called a local real estate office and got very annoyed when the receptionist did not seem to understand when i repeatedly said medecin medecin (doctor doctor). Finally got my hands on the right number and not only got an apt for that afternoon but the office was incredibly nice. The doctor was very friendly and after looking down my throat said Ahhh, une infection des amygdales. I starred at him blankly. You don't know the word "amygdale?" , "AMYGDALE?" (speaking louder and repeating it always helps). A few hand gestures later and with the help of another doctor, I realized I have a tonsil infection. Believe it or not, tonsils is not in my vocabularly. Words like "diarrhea" and "I'm sick to my stomach don't make me eat intestines" have been more necessary while here. Nevertheless, got some medecine and am now on the mend :)
Tuesday: went to HLM fabric market for retail therapy. Unfortunately everyone who lives in Dakar was there because big Muslim holiday, Tabaski, is coming up and everyone needs a new bou-bou (dresses women and men wear here). After buying something for my mama, the next time I stopped to open my backpack, my bag was in fact already wide open for me because I had been robbed. Clearly someone had seen me put my wallet back in my backpack and while I was getting tossed around in the crowd- someone reached in. Dakar is known for its pick pockets but I was just so bummed because I am usually so careful and had almost made it to the end with all my stuff. The good news- I only lost 40 bucks. In fact, 30 minutes later someone called me because they found my wallet on the ground, void of money but still had my ID cards in it. Retrieving it involved an hour adventure with the help of a Senegalese whose name was Monsieur Yess and greeting an entire family and sitting in their living room before I got it back. Nevertheless, it restored some faith and all in all, was only 40 dollars.
French class is calling, but I'll add that Wednesday's expierence was eating lunch at my house with a complete stranger. My family just sat me down with her and I prayed I had not met her before and was now being rude. She gave me an apple at the end so I guess I did not offend her.
Much love
Hannah
Less than 3 weeks left and I still seem to be having cultural "expierences" on a daily basis. Monday brought a visit to the doctor. Last week, I was feeling feverish, exhausted, and having bad headaches. I figured the 3rd world had finally kicked my butt and I'd be over it soon. But by Monday my arms were starting to ache and worse, I was actually wearing a long sleeve shirt from being cold (I still sweat regularly here). Trying to suppress thoughts of malaria, I finally made a doctor's apt. Of course, when I say made an appointment, I first called a local real estate office and got very annoyed when the receptionist did not seem to understand when i repeatedly said medecin medecin (doctor doctor). Finally got my hands on the right number and not only got an apt for that afternoon but the office was incredibly nice. The doctor was very friendly and after looking down my throat said Ahhh, une infection des amygdales. I starred at him blankly. You don't know the word "amygdale?" , "AMYGDALE?" (speaking louder and repeating it always helps). A few hand gestures later and with the help of another doctor, I realized I have a tonsil infection. Believe it or not, tonsils is not in my vocabularly. Words like "diarrhea" and "I'm sick to my stomach don't make me eat intestines" have been more necessary while here. Nevertheless, got some medecine and am now on the mend :)
Tuesday: went to HLM fabric market for retail therapy. Unfortunately everyone who lives in Dakar was there because big Muslim holiday, Tabaski, is coming up and everyone needs a new bou-bou (dresses women and men wear here). After buying something for my mama, the next time I stopped to open my backpack, my bag was in fact already wide open for me because I had been robbed. Clearly someone had seen me put my wallet back in my backpack and while I was getting tossed around in the crowd- someone reached in. Dakar is known for its pick pockets but I was just so bummed because I am usually so careful and had almost made it to the end with all my stuff. The good news- I only lost 40 bucks. In fact, 30 minutes later someone called me because they found my wallet on the ground, void of money but still had my ID cards in it. Retrieving it involved an hour adventure with the help of a Senegalese whose name was Monsieur Yess and greeting an entire family and sitting in their living room before I got it back. Nevertheless, it restored some faith and all in all, was only 40 dollars.
French class is calling, but I'll add that Wednesday's expierence was eating lunch at my house with a complete stranger. My family just sat me down with her and I prayed I had not met her before and was now being rude. She gave me an apple at the end so I guess I did not offend her.
Much love
Hannah
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)