Day 23: Tour of Ngor (that rhymes)

Today’s French class was a little different from usual. Our teacher Ousmane told us about his grandmother who lived in a village about six hours north of here. He said she was 99 years old and had once killed a crocodile with her bare hands (when it attacked her cow.) I suggested that we go up north and visit her and her village. The rural culture that he described was extremely interesting. As a French class, we decided that we would find a day or two to go up there and meet Ousmane’s extended family.

After French class, I had tea and bread with the Senegalese students who had arrived from their morning English class. I’m starting to speak more French (and even a little Wolof) and this was a great place to practice my new languages. At around 1145, we had a lecture on permaculture: both the scientific and social aspects of it.

After lunch, we came back to Cresp, but parted immediately to go on a tour of the nearby town called Ngor. In comparison to Yoff, Ngor is very similar and has the potential to become an ecotourist attraction. However, the amount of trash in Ngor is significantly less than that in Yoff. With that said, it’s more realistic that there would be a successful ecotourism circuit in Ngor.

On our tour, we stopped at a place where they sold drums and other odd musical instruments. A guy who worked there told us about the items that they sold, and gave us samples of each. He even sang. We then walked down to the beach and hopped a ferry to Ile de Ngor (if you read day 12, you can see the first time we went here.) Once at the island, we walked around and got brief descriptions of the tourist attractions there. At the end of the tour, we went in to this house/museum which was beautifully decorated. See pics.

After taking the ferry back, Deb, Alison, and I took a taxi to change our traveler’s checks. This time, we had our passports (hard copies) and didn’t have any trouble getting CFA’s. Finally getting some money felt good, especially because I hadn’t any money since Sunday. It’s weird how having money in my pocket makes me feel secure. Obviously, it has to do with the culture that I come from (American) and the fact that it enables me to buy things like bottled water and ice cream at the Shell station (which is what we did after coming back to Yoff.) So we gorged ourselves with a liter of strawberry ice cream and came home for dinner. While stuffing ourselves with yassa (onions and some kind of sauce), French fries, fish, and bread, we watched the international news which featured G.W. Bush. I said to my sister, “il est stupide.” She laughed and said, “il est gentil?” (he is nice?) and I said, “yea, gentil, mais stupide.” She laughed and asked me if I would be the president some day. I told her “maybe.”

Let me take a quick second to speak to the amount that we eat here: Every meal that we eat with our family can be described as a stuffing. Most meals, like tonight, my family will not let me get up for the table. Literally. Tonight, we were eating bread, and I had already had 3 pieces, and everyone was pretty much done with all the food on the platter. All the bread was gone, so I tried to get up. I couldn’t get away that fast. My sister made me sit down and told me to “attendes” (wait.) I waited. Another one of my sisters came out of the kitchen with another piece of bread and told me to finish what was on the platter. I sat there, with pretty much everyone watching, while I ate more than I ever thought possible. The situation I just described happens at most meals. If I can eat this much and not get bigger, than I will never get bigger.