First Days in Africa

Before reading this blog, it is important for all readers to know of my inability to write very well. Throughout high school, I was never a great or even a good writer. However, in this blog, I will try to be as descriptive as possible, and I hope that my not-so-good writing won’t be so much of a problem.

To read this blog, I also think its important for me to inform of a few of my personality traits. When it comes to people and situations, I tend to be very analytical. So, this blog will include not only descriptions and summaries, but also analyses, explanations, and thoughts that will hopefully be helpful to any reader.

Note: The entries for these first two days are very long, as I have a lot to explain, I hope I don’t drag on too much…

After a surprisingly pleasant 8 hour flight from New York to Dakar, we arrived at the airport. We were filled with uncertainty as we stood on the threshold of our new environments. For one thing, we were a little uninformed as to what we would be doing for the next 3 and a half months. Sure, we knew we would be studying ecotourism and sustainable development, but that was pretty much it. As to the other unknowns, such as where we would eat our next meal, whom we would be living with for the next few months, and who was picking us up from the airport, we were clueless.

After waiting about an hour to go through customs, we got our bags and went out to the street where we met the person who would be escorting us to our homes. The taxi that picked us up had a windshield with about five large cracks in it, not to mention the actual driving of the taxi which was an interesting matter in and of itself. I was the first one to be dropped of at my new home, on a sandy street. As I was shown to a TV room and told to sit down, I came up with my first impressions of this new environment. This family was clearly somewhat well off, as they had electricity, a toilet that I would later find, and even a nice stereo. After a little bit of waiting, I was shown my room which to my dismay had no windows. As a person who covets fresh air and nature, I was disturbed by this lack of windows. Nonetheless, I was very happy to have four electrical outlets in my room. At the time, it didn’t seem like such a bad trade-off. The humidity was starting to get to me, and I had only arrived a few hours before. However the heat was not enough to keep me from lying down and falling asleep rather quickly. After a good sleep, I woke up at around 14:00 (all military time here) and was invited to sit down with the family for lunch.

For those who are not familiar with the way the Senegalese eat, I will provide a brief description: The entire family sits around one circular platter, everyone is given a spoon, and the eating begins. Everyone kind of sections off a part of the circle, and eats what is in front of them. Usually, immediately in front of a person will be rice or pasta, and in the middle is meat or fish from which everyone takes a portion. None of the Senegalese have a dining room, for them it would be a waste of space. It was hard to believe that here I was, at my Senegalese meal, sitting on a stool, eating fish and rice from their platter.

After eating my lunch, I talked to the boy who lives with my family. His name is Jean-Gala and he is very good at soccer. He is the captain of his soccer team. And that’s about all I understood. He also showed me his entire picture album. He was very friendly. He then escorted me to the CRESP annex, where we will be taking our classes for the next semester. It is also the home of Marian Zietlan, our program director.

After walking up four flights of stairs, we reached the CRESP center, where we were led into a room with air conditioning. While some of you back in the US may take AC in your car or house for granted, I certainly was not about to do that, even though it was our first day. After some hours of introductions and registrations and such, we went upstairs to Marian’s apartment and had some drinks. Marian’s balcony looks over all of Yoff, straight out to the ocean. This was the first great view that we got, and I thoroughly enjoyed it. We were then fed spaghetti and sauce for dinner, which actually tasted a lot like it does at home. Then, we received another lecture on culture, and then back to our houses for sleeping. When I got home, my family tried to give me another dinner, but I refused (politely I hope) and went into my room to sleep.

Before I go any further, I will explain some of the people that I have met. Giving you an idea of who I am with will hopefully give you a better idea of my overall situation. I will start with Rich, whom I met at JFK in New York. From what I know so far, Rich is a swimmer at Umass Amherst, he’s 19 or 20, and he brought a lot of everything on this trip. Rich is the only fellow male in our group. The six girls are named Alison, Deb, Katie, Kayla, Lindsay, and Kristen. I’m pretty sure that everyone is older than eighteen. Everyone seems really nice, and really interested in the program that we are on. For more info on that, go to livingroutes.org. As for the older adults, there’s Marian, Alexa, and Sophie, the latter two being the middle-aged program assistants.

So, back to the summary: I fell asleep rather quickly once again but this time I was wakened at about 1am, by my “father” whom had just returned home. I tried to go back to sleep, but I was unsuccessful. Then, I began to feel extreme feelings of homesickness, and I declared to myself that I must return home the next day. I then proceeded to write four or five pages in my journal about why I shouldn’t be here, and why I’m not prepared, and etc etc etc. I then went to the bathroom, where I had to kill an inch-long cockroach. After nearly being in tears from the stress, sadness, and loneliness I was feeling, I was able to fall back asleep at about 3am to the comforting sound of the rain.

My alarm woke me up at around 8. After having a bad night, I was extremely tired but managed to get out of bed, and eat breakfast. We then left for Cresp, and arrived at 9. I was still feeling very uncomfortable with my situation, and was determined to talk to Marian and convince her that I needed to go home immediately. However, I didn’t get a chance to right away, but she noticed that I was looking rather awful and asked me to come up to chat with her. I told her about the events of the previous night, and she was worried, and said she would do what she could to help. She went out and bought me some rice krispies cereal (which tasted almost nothing like rice krispies) but I ate anyway. After disappearing into her office, she came back and said that it would be okay if I moved in with another family. This would be the same place that Rich was living in, and he had told me great things about it. I would have a room with a window, and I would be able to see the ocean which was close by. I was very happy to accept this proposal. The rest of my day was spent at CRESP, as Marian thought it wise for me to pass on the goat sacrificing ceremony that the rest of the group was attending. I had lunch with my new family and Rich, which was very pleasant, and I was shown my room. More details on that later. We then came back to CRESP where we had a short activity and were sent home once more. While the rest of the group went exploring, I had to achieve the difficult task of moving all of my luggage from one house to another, which included a lot of walking, lifting, and eventually another scary cab ride. The end result however was certainly worth it. Let me explain:

The family that I now live with is quite large. However, the house has two floors, and a roof. The roof, is a flat open space, but with one sunroom in the middle, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. The roof is where I live with Rich. The ocean is probably 100 yards from our front door, and our view is a little obstructed, but it’s really a huge upgrade. (see pictures). We have privacy, fresh air, a great view, plenty of space, electricity, plumbing, anything you could ask for, except maybe a TV with NESN (for all you non-fans, that’s the Red Sox channel). I’m already starting to feel a little more comfortable with calling this place home for the next few months. Even the dinner tasted good, and I didn’t have feelings of nausea that I had been previously experiencing. Beef has never tasted so good.

In closing to this very long entry, I would like to say that there are plenty of differences still to be explained in future entries. For example the difficulties of the language barrier, or the fact that I am not supposed to use my left hand when I eat (which tends to be quite a problem considering I’ve used my left hand for my entire eating life.)