Profile
Blog
Photos
Videos
Like Darwin's finches, we are slowly adapting to life in Senegal. Katie and I have managed to get around to most parts of Joal, including the port, local church, hospital (see below), various shops and markets, schools, and around our little area of Caritas in Joal. We've even mastered the art of hopping from one small rock to another whilst carrying a bicycle in an effort to get to the main road without falling into the small swimming pool that has formed as a result of the floods, AND the other day I think I might've managed to string a good three words together in Wolof…
So as I've hinted, bicycles are now our main form of transport around Joal. We took to get them serviced and washed (!) for 500 cfa = less than a pound! They've given rise to some new comments from those that we pass by, the most mentionable of which including "Toubab au velo!" (toubab on a bike). However as Katie and I are growing into tolerant, accepting individuals we are getting great at smiling sweetly and waving back. It all makes me feel a bit like Kate Middleton...
Last week Aicha and Amadou our hosts asked us if we'd like to cook some British food. Little did they know what they were getting themselves into…Seeing as my cooking skills are virtually nonexistent (I famously once nearly murdered a perfectly good pot of baked beans, a story to which a certain Miss Lucy Morris can surely testify), and Katie's, though of course better than mine, are not quite up to gourmet chef standard as of yet, we settled on the good ole British classic of…Spaghetti Bolognese!!! and potato wedges (Katie's speciality). With trepidation, we entered the kitchen; as I spent the next hour and a half flapping around, getting extremely overheated and swearing loudly and frequently, Katie calmly cooked spaghetti to perfection, chopped carrots, aubergine, onions, garlic and other stuff into beautifully neat piles, before adding them to our modified version of Napolitano sauce (watered down tomato puree). Needless to say, whilst Amadou and Aicha were extremely polite (and Marieme chomped down the potato wedges like a darling) it was not one of the finest representations of British cuisine, and I seriously doubt we'll be let loose on the kitchen again. However this has not deterred Katie and I; we are already planning our next offensive in the form of a birthday cake for Aicha…
The success of our cooking was timely demonstrated to us at an ungodly hour the next morning when I was provided with a valuable insight in the Senegalese healthcare system. At half two I woke to a very ill Katie, resulting in a visit to the all-hours clinic of Joal. As there were no instant malaria tests left, Katie was prescribed with a rainbow of medication (at her own expense, I might add), which we then administered until returning in the morning once the hospital lab had opened. She then had a malaria test, which thankfully was declared negative, however it left us with a slightly more complicated situation, resulting in a long wait and another bucket of medication for Katie to take. The doctors remained 'inconclusive' about the cause of her illness, however going by general consensus it seemed to have just been Katie's body reacting and adapting to new surroundings, tastes, smells, and plumbing systems, and thankfully nothing to do with our cooking. Luckily she recovered after a few days and is now up and running like a champ.
To celebrate Katie's recovery, the next Sunday we braved a visit to our local church in Joal. Though we arrived too late to fit into the church, we enjoyed the service from outside with many other worshippers, particularly the choir and Senegalese drumming which accompanied the service. I'm in the process of finding out about potential membership of the choir; we'll see how that goes… In the evening Katie and I visited Joal's fishing port for the first time, a whirlwind experience which involved lots of shouting, fish slopping everywhere, and an unfortunately misplaced step into the port's drain. My flip flop, I fear, will never smell the same again. However it was really cool to be amongst the hustle and bustle, and I managed to take some photos among the melee which I'll try to upload at some point.
Monday brought our first day of something resembling work; we went to the lycee (aged 16-18) with Amadou and observed English classes in preparation for beginning teaching. Due to almost constant striking last year by teachers and students alike, school exams are being done from the beginning of this year, rather than the end of last term, so the lessons were mostly revision lessons. This also means that the start of term has been delayed to mid October for the middle school (CEM) and beginning of November for the lycee... However it was great to meet all of the other staff, all of whom are extremely welcoming and friendly. We're looking forward to working amongst them. School here runs from 0800 - 1200 so in the afternoon we went to get Katie's newly made boubou adjusted at the tailors. After no more than THREE rounds of adjustments and a lot of (hopefully) polite refusals of touba coffee on my part, we headed home only to be caught in a HUGE downpour. This lasted well into the night and at one point I thought the house might flood, however it turns out we have quite an effective drainage system in place (unfortunately the same can't be said for the rest of Joal) and so we slept soundly. The same can't be said for the two Project Trust boys in Kaolack who apparently had a good two inches of water invading their bedroom…
Later in the week we met with Connie, a local Peace Corps volunteer who works in the area on a range of projects, including reforestation of mangrove trees, setting up a business school for young people, and a turtle management program on the beaches of Joal which Katie and I are to join this weekend. We are also soon to resume a project set up by the volunteers here last year with Connie and Aicha (our host mum) called FASJOM, which comprises of two weekly meetings with girls and women in Joal who have not had access to schooling, to teach them reading and writing in Wolof, French, housekeeping and business skills.
We've also had a number of days out, the first of which was to Mbour (a large town about 30km from Joal) to buy material and commission new boubous for Tabaski (Eid). We went with Aicha, and in the panic of it all I managed to pick possibly the brightest, most sparkly orange material on which I've ever set my eyes. However my in-house fashion adviser Melissa managed to soothe my fears, informing me that orange is in fact the 'in' colour for the newly released spring/summer collections of 2013. Phew, not too much harm done there then. I'm sure it'll turn out a tango treat.
On our return we found that our way home through the mud tracks was partially blocked by a large yellow drainage truck come to relieve some of the flooding. However the truck had inevitably got caught in the Joal's characteristic mud, and was extremely stuck. Eyewitnesses informed me that they had been digging it out for most of the morning, and eventually it was set free to trundle off back to the main road. No sooner had it disappeared around the nearest hut that a second truck came careering around the corner, and narrowly avoiding a neighbours' house, smacked straight into a telegraph pole and sinking a good two feet down into the mud. Once they had finally dug the truck out we were compensated for the hole with a large pile of sand, which the local kids then proceeded to throw at themselves, each other, and any offending passers-by.
The next day we visited Joal's neighbour, Fadiouth Island with Amadou. We chose just the right time; as we were getting a ride in a taxi along Joal's main road, we hit upon a rather significant obstacle. A large group of representatives from the Senegalese government, forces, fire brigade, and local council had decided to disembark from their chauffeur-driven SUVs and have a lengthy discussion about solutions for alleviating the flooding, complete with clip boards and TV cameras, slap bang in the middle of Joal's one and only tarmac road. Whilst it was a fascinating experience to see Senegalese politics in action (in true Senegalese style we got out of the taxi and went to stand and peer at the goings-on) it was a rather poorly judged meeting, which resulted in half an hour's worth of backed up traffic and some extremely irritated taxi drivers. Once we made it to Fadiouth, however, we found that it had definitely been worth the wait. Fadiouth is a small island made completely out of small white shells, with its own Christian and Muslim community. Amadou (our host dad) as usual, knew just about everyone, so we took plenty of time to stop, shake hands and joke with the residents. The island is also linked to an even smaller island which houses an incredibly peaceful and beautiful cemetery, reached by a long pedestrian bridge over the lagoon.
The weekend brought a trip for Katie and I to Dakar, to visit the 4 Project Trust girls stationed there, enjoy some slightly more westernised living, and in the words of Jack Kerouac, to spend some time 'digging the city.' We travelled by sept-place (otherwise known as a Peugeot 504 with 3 roads of seats - built to carry driver + 7 passengers) which is always an entertaining and toe-numbing experience (we always seem to get shoved into the back row), and were dropped off in an area called Patte D'Oie from which we caught a taxi (costly the same amount as the 3 hour sept-place to Dakar!!) to the girlies' homestead. They are staying in rooms on the roof of a bilingual nursery school, opposite 'l'ecole actuelle bilingue' where they work. Katie and I were barely finished ogling at their large rooms with DOUBLE beds and bathroom with power shower AND flushing toilet that we were whisked out for an absolutely wonderful evening of pizza (an invention yet to hit Joal) and major chatting.
The next day we visited a small market (thus began the bartering) and spent some time on N'Gor beach. We also enjoyed rubbing shoulders with fellow toubabs at the newly built Sea Plaza shopping centre, making use of the Western supermarket and cash machine. The next day we went a little more adventurous and headed downtown to Sandaga Market, proclaimed by Lonely Planet to be the 'biggest, busiest, and most varied market in Dakar'. As soon as we got out of the taxi we were accosted by a number of pushy salesmen, ushering us towards their shops and stalls accompanied by the inevitable questioning of who, what, why, where…. We've also seemed to develop quite a knack for offending people; our final moments in the market involved death threats from one shopkeeper whilst trying to barter down the price of a taxi…oh Dakar. Saving the rest of our appetite for the city for later, Katie and I returned to Joal on Monday in order to meet the principals of the CEM and lycee on Tuesday….Stay tuned.
A xx
- comments
dad What great news and variation. Loads of stuff dispatched to you today. Jamie's Cooking in Britain to follow shortly - should keep you all amused. Don't foget the good old tuna pasta bake. Looking forward to see pictures soon love dad xxx
Karen CW Loving your blog Amee. Such great news to tell. I almost feel I am with you all. So wish I was. Torment for a fellow 'traveller at heart'. Enjoy, Love Karen x
kirstie de salis Fascinating - shall definitely stay tuned! In which language are you conversing? The shell island sounds lovely - what about collecting a few of them? I f you need any help with choir in any way let me know - think I'll get James to do this while he's in Aus - take care love Kirstie
Amee Hi Kirsty, Karen and Dad, thanks for your messages. Kirsty, we speak French at home and French/Wolof in the community. Next to come are Serer (minority language in Joal) and Pulaar (our family's language) ! I will let you know about the choir, thank you! Amee
Robert Lucas Thoroughly enjoying reading your blog, very well written. Senegal sounds awesome