Communication

    I am not quite sure how to start this so I’ll just begin with one of the most important parts of every travel experience, food. Every day begins with tea, bread and Nutella, which is pretty much what I have at home, but its better here. At about 1 o’clock, we have lunch. Yesterday we had the traditional Senegalese meal of rice, fish, vegetables, and tamarind. This traditional dish is called Chebujen. It was delicious! Malaika and I ate with the men who work at the ACI center and learned how to eat it in the traditional, and in their opinion most practical way, by using our right hand. It was definitely an experience, everything from hand washing before the meal to the way a woman is expected to sit on a cushion, was unfamiliar. It was difficult to get the hang of it at first, but we got used to it and didn’t make too much of a mess, unlike Mr. Moreau. I am writing this blog this evening while still in a food coma from dinner which was chicken in a delicious, greasy sauce with onions that my host family seems fond of. I’ll get to them a little later.

     After eating lunch today, we learned about the Senegalese educational system and visited a remedial school in Dakar. It is directed by a volunteer who has been teaching in the school for 30 years and attended the same school when he was younger. I was lucky enough to sit upfront with the kids and learn their lesson with them. There seemed to be very few rules to restrain the students and that the reason they were there and participating was because they wanted to learn. There were not enough chairs for the thirty or so children learning in, what I thought to be, a room in very poor condition. I realized how nice that room was in comparison to the library. The classroom was covered in sand and dust, and the books were caked in dirt. My first thought was, “In America, this place would be condemned in 2 seconds”. I will not even try to describe how extremely different it is from the classrooms that we have at Holton.

    After the shocking visit to the schools, we got to see where the children who attend that school come from. They live in a shanty town lined with make shift shelters with very little distance between them. In the improvised alleyways, the men and women ply their crafts, making anything from beds to shoes. This was one of Dakar’s many slums to which immigrants and rural Senegalese come in search of a better life for themselves and their families. Unfortunately, it ends up being a place where many people eke out a difficult existence. On the walk home from this view of life in Dakar’s slums, we did what any true Holton girl would do to cope, we went shopping…… just kidding. We had a homework assignment that required us to visit a neighborhood boutique (shop) and buy something unusual using the Senegalese etiquette that we had learned earlier in the day. The process of looking for something you don’t recognize, in a city you don’t know, using languages that you don’t know is surprisingly easy. It was frustrating, but we succeeded. I bought some rocks… I think they might be chalk for about 200 cfa, although it took me a while to realize what I paid for it. Tomorrow, we will debrief about the experience and I ‘m sure whoever blogs will talk about it. 

   To be honest, the only negative thing I could possible say about any experience that I have had here has been related to the language barrier. I do not speak French or Wolof which has made it hard for me to interact with the local children, bargain with the venders, and frustrated our bonding with our host family up until four hours ago. The first day we stayed here was the definition of awkward! The extent of our interaction was “bon jour” to our brothers and sisters and failed attempts to share information with the parents. For example, they now think that I throw javelin in school because I couldn’t communicate high jump with gestures. We went to bed discouraged and a little angry that neither of us took French. Nevertheless, four hours ago, we were brought together by an award winning show of the highest caliber; Jersey Shore. They have it here with French voice overs. It was hilarious! While laughing at Snooki, we bonded with our sisters Armond and Cicel, who both speak fluent English. The feeling of victory I got from getting past the awful awkwardness and befriending Armonde and Cecile is indescribable. It’s inspiring.

    Tonight I can go to sleep comfortably knowing that I am no longer a complete stranger in this home. I apologize for this long post, but this is just the tip of the iceberg. I skimmed over as much as I could, and the only reason that I am ending here is because my hand is cramping. There is so much more to the places and people that I’ve mentioned here that I could write a book and still not convey everything you should know. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time, because I need to sleep to be ready for tomorrow. Bonne nuit

- Becca Bloom