"Il faut bien manger"

"You must eat well!"

These words are usually followed by my host mother patting my stomach and giving me a stern face to make it very clear that she wants me to return home with several extra pounds as a souvenir. 

It is hard to believe that it has already been a month since I arrived in Dakar! As I began to learn the rhythm and routine of living with (and as a part of) a Senegalese family, I have found that meal times have become both my favorite and also the most stressful times of the day. 

I am so thankful that I live with a family who is rather traditional with how they prepare and serve meals. This means, of course, sitting on the floor with 5 or 6 other people and eating around one large bowl, usually using either our hands or a small spoon. I have found that the interactions and mannerisms displayed during this time tell me so much more about this culture than I could ever have imagined. 

Because we are all sharing one bowl, each person is responsible for his or her own section. Usually in the middle of the bowl there is a pile of vegetables and meat that is shared between everyone. Let the eating begin! 

What makes this event stressful is not knowing where exactly the boundaries are between my section and the person on either side of me. While I am trying to be polite by being careful to not move outside of my portion, I need to continue reminding myself that it is just as impolite to not finish what is in front of you. Just when I have finished what I consider to be a reasonable portion of the bowl, and my pizza-slice section is scraped clean, my host mother (or sister) is quick to push a new pile of rice in front of me, and I must start all over again. 

During our first week of orientation, we learned, what has turned out to be one of the most important words in our Wolof vocabulary: Suurnaa (I’m full). After that first week, when I forgot it and had to keep eating until I thought I would explode, I have made sure to use it as much as I possibly can! Despite how much I love the food here and how excited I am to bring these cultural experiences back home after this semester, Oumy can only eat so much!

A Child Again...

One of the most exciting aspects of this program in Senegal was the opportunity to participate in an internship at a public school in Dakar. As I learned of my specific placement and visited the classroom I realized that, like every single other part of this trip, I was completely unprepared for what was waiting for me. Yes, it was most definitely stressful being put in front of a class to teach English to 30 seven-year-olds, many of whom are learning French at about the same rate as I learn Wolof. But what was most shocking to me was the realization that while I am technically the "Maitresse de l'ecole" for a few hours every week, I know that those children are going to teach me more than I will ever be able to teach them.

I can tell them all about how to count to 10 in English, or what to call their parents and siblings, but I am finding that every time I visit the classroom, I am more aware of how studying abroad is forcing me to be a child again. Not only am I learning a new language from scratch (which is not easy and I give my students a ton of credit for learning two languages at the same time), but I also feel as though I am learning how to walk for the first time. It has been shaky at first, and I've already embarrassed myself more times than I can count (which seems to be very amusing for my host family...), but each day it is becoming easier and more familiar to live this new and exciting life as Oumy Paye.

I am so excited to spend more time with these students, not just to teach them English, but more than that, to be able to share the experiences of "growing up" together. Because no matter how old or mature you are, living in a foreign country for the first time forces anyone to see the world through the eyes of a child.

A day on the Town!

Life in Dakar is not complete without the experience of riding in a Car Rapide. On the outside, these vehicles resemble small brightly-colored vans overwhelmed with painted decorations and indecipherable Wolof phrases. The inside, however, is another story completely. Just like my arrival in the city, the inside of this car completely takes over your senses and makes it very hard to concentrate on anything but the array of distractions around you. From the outside, you would not believe the number of people they can pack inside until you see the crowd at the bus stop disappear into what can only be described as another one of Mary Poppins' magical bottomless purses.

Once you have found a seat (or just something to hold on to) and finally have a chance to look at your surroundings, you may be surprised to see decorative lace curtains around the perimeter of the car’s ceiling, and pictures of different Senegalese leaders around the windshield- an anomaly that you quickly dismiss once the car jerks away from its stop…They don’t call it a “Car Rapide” for nothing!

There seems to be some sort of rhythmic language that I still do not understand. Coins hit against the metal ceiling, the driver slapping the dashboard, and passengers yelling Wolof phrases at the man collecting money, all contribute to the overall chaos of the situation.

Once we had finally reached our stop at a local market, I was thankful to be free from the confines of the car, only to find that exploring a street market is no less of an adventure. After one marriage proposal, several calls of “toubab” (their word for foreigner), and passing a never-ending supply of green tomatoes and fish surrounded by flies, it was time to catch the next Car Rapide and do it all again!

While I am thankful that the majority of my time will be spent walking from place to place rather than having to rely on the public transportation, it takes these kinds of experiences to really be able to understand what makes Dakar so special and…unique. ;)