So let’s start with the most recent stuff. As I said, Aziz and I are back in Dakar, and have been sharing an apartment with two other Americans who have turned into good friends in the past few weeks. They are an older professor/architect couple who are extremely welcoming and accommodating (with a million interesting stories from their many crazy adventures living abroad). When we first arrived we were working on a report for the grant committee funding Mike’s research,
but soon afterward we began playing hosts for a group of French friends from Wassadou and then Mike’s parents (see pic of Mike with his dad at Ngor beach and tree of birds at national park).
We had a good time showing them around Dakar and Saint Louis, and they managed to stay healthy and in good spirits the whole trip! When we picked them up at the airport, I had forced mike to take antibiotics for what was a pretty nasty little stomach bug. Though pretty out of it for the first few days with his parents in Dakar, he perked up and was in good health by the time we got to Saint Louis. (below was their view from the hotel balcony in St. Louis)
Their first day in Dakar, we checked his parents into a luxurious downtown hotel (www.savana.sn), where they were more than happy to stay for most of the week. Their delight was heightened by their expectations, which, let’s just say, were low. We walked along the beautiful and somewhat deserted cliffside area and then grabbed croissants at a fancy patisserie in the city. At this point Mike’s dad took the opportunity to get a quick nap in at the table.
Afterward, newly caffeinated, we checked out the downtown cathedral, which we’d never actually seen from the inside. Angels with dreadlocks/braids grace the outdoor columns, and stained glass windows add color to the otherwise white interior. Mike’s dad took a second opportunity to nap on a couch when we stopped at the American embassy. Later we took advantage of the hotel’s Olympic size swimming pool (I’ve never seen a bigger one) and stopped by the French cultural center. The CCF is an interesting mix of Dakarian and French culture, with local Senegalese artist displays and handmade crafts as well as French performers and speakers. We checked out a semi-permanent exhibit of birds made with recycled materials, and I actually noticed that the artist was sitting right there. I chatted with him a bit, and asked him if I could stop by to work with him sometime, which he agreed to.
For lunch, Mike’s mom got a bit of a shock when she was served fish- a whole fish- at an upscale Senegalese restaurant. I don’t think she’d ever come face to face with her fish before. She took it in stride, though, and we had a nice meal. Later we took a bus through some of the crazier downtown market areas. It was nice to show Mike’s parents Sandaga market from up high in a bus, instead of getting tossed around in the middle of it. We stopped on the way back to our apartment to see the fish market near Soumbadjiounne, the artisnal market on the Corniche (the busy highway next to the ocean, normally filled with joggers and commuters but currently under construction). As it was the end of the day, the parents and we got attacked by frantic sellers hungry to make a sale before heading home. Probably not a great first market experience, we later mused. Anyways, we brought them back home to meet Ken and Liz, who were hospitable as usual, and they managed to stay up until we sent them in a cab back to their hotel- not bad for a first day across the world!
The next day we whisked them away from the hotel for a day of sightseeing on Goree Island. The island, right off the Dakar coast, is a somewhat strange mixture of touristic beauty (beach, well-maintained colonial buildings, nice restaurants, artisinal villages) and historical ugliness. Goree Island is marked by the House of Slaves, where empty chambers and corridors were once packed with shackled bodies, headed for the US or Europe. It is hard to put yourself into that state of mind when you are visiting the museum, as the rest of the experience of Goree is so pleasant. Taking a ferry to the island, watching artists in their workshops, walking the sunny cobblestone streets, you could forget the whole premise of the Maison des Eclaves and think you’d landed in a small, forgotten, and, inexplicably, black villa. The famed “point of no return” (a small but final door through which a disputed number of slaves left their homeland forever) becomes a contradictory tourist attraction- so now Goree locals make a living showing mostly wealthy white French and some African American visitors through the old slave quarters, while souveneir-sellers crowd the exit, hoping to make a quarter selling you a necklace. Bizarre.
The island is undeniable beautiful, though, and we enjoyed our day there and a nice lunch on the beach. At night we heard traditional Senegalese kora music, which Mike’s parents liked enough to get the CD of. On Saturday we headed to Mike’s drum teacher/friend, Pape’s house for lunch. We had the traditional Senegalese cheb bu djien, rice with fish and vegetables. The family went all out to prepare a huge meal, complete with desert, which was clearly a sign of their happiness and honor to host his parents. I think that we had either forgotten about the extent of Senegalese terranga (hospitality) or not realized what a special thing it would be for them to welcome his parents. Mike’s dad was definitely touched by the lengths they went to. We ended the visit with them singing/playing some music for his parents.
(walking around Saint Louis)
Along with our French friends from Wassadou, we headed up to Sunday mass at Keur Moussa monastery. Famed for Gregorian-style chant mixed with traditional African instruments and their tasty goat cheese, we thought it would be a nice place to see mass on the way to Saint Louis. It was a bit less lively than I expected, though a peaceful break from Dakar, and we got to sample the yummy fromage de chevre. Not bad. Once in St. Louis we took things easy and watched (or in my case spaced out during- can’t seem to focus on soccer-) a world cup game.
On Monday we explored a nearby national park called the Langue de Barbarie, where we took a pirogue around to witness the most birds I’ve ever seen in one place in my life (including the Galapagos). It looked kind of like someone had made thousands of plastic pelicans and set them up for us to ride by- except that they moved.
We had a nice time touring around the park and had lunch with our guide at his family’s restaurant (see pic of guide in colorful Mauride bifal bubu).
On Tuesday we said goodbye to our French friends and had dinner back in Dakar with Mike’s host mom from five years ago, who made an elegant feast that we once again weren’t expecting. Wednesday was a relaxed day on Ngor beach, which was packed by Dakar’s youth. We managed to escape the crowds by hiking up to the clifftop, where I snapped the adorable photo of Mike and his dad, aww. The boat back was equally packed, and everyone got a kick out of us, the only toubabs on the boat. Thursday was a relaxed day of souveneir purchases and even ice cream at the famous “Creamy Inn,” which Mike and I had managed to avoid up until then. We sent Mike’s parents off at midnight, and I recovered from a small fever I’d managed to come down with.
All in all, I’d say we did more than enough in a week to last us for the next month or so. The last few days have been mostly running errands and downtime, but this coming week we are trying to analyze the data we took in the village. I will also be looking for some new projects to get involved with, potentially teaching classes at the computer lab, getting involved with another NGO, or tutoring English. I think we have decided to stay in Dakar for a while, so that helps logistically. We are lucky to be able to stay with our friends for another month, and have even learned to like Dakar again, after some initial skepticism (coming back from the country was total culture shock; we kept wanting to talk to everyone we passed in the street and expecting everything to be cheap and easy, etc.). On the agenda for the last half of our time hear: potentially a trip to Louga, to visit our griot (musicians and dancers) friends there, a trip to the beautiful Cassaamance region, a visit to the Gambie, another trip to Wassadou... we shall see.
(more birds at the park)
PS. As I mentioned, the last half of our stay in Wassadou was great, busy with visits from our American friends and lots of research. Unfortunately, all of those pics are being held hostage on Laye’s computer in the village, so I’ll have to show you what I’m talking about later- patience my dears.
Aziz and I had some French friends from Wassadou visiting last week, and as part of showing them around Dakar, we took them to a Serrer cultural show at the Sorano theatre. (pic to left). The show, though it started 3 hours late, was a great mix of song and dance acts, with a ton of talented Serrer (a smaller ethnic group than the Wolof in Senegal)performers. We took our friends to a few different sites, including our favorite little beach in the city, but also did our own thing part of the week. 
I had talked him into showing me how he works, and he was nice enough to give me a real atelier on the subject, showing me how he goes about making each part of the bird. We finished a bird together (he did all the work, but gave me the credit), and I made a great friend out of it, too. He told me about his family in Cassamance, and how he was inspired by the gorgeous birds out there but had to move to the city because of the conflict there. He still sees birds as a source of inspriation, freedom.
