well. We've been here a month now. You think that classes would be well underway. Think again sumuy xarit bu ameriken (my american friends).
STRIKE. We started school for a week. Then we had vacation for Tabaski. We return, have class for one day and then what? AG. Assemble General. To do what? Decide to whine like little girls about something everyone has known about for a year now. I get it sumay xarit bu sengales (my senegalese friends), you don't want to pay to get your masters, but you had a year to prepare for this. Why start getting angry now?
Anyway. My section started the strike, and continued it for 5 days, and yesterday the entire University was pulled into it. Now, you ask yourself, isn't it a student movement? The answer: no. No one I have talked to is behind this strike. They want to start classes and not sit on their butts doing NOTHING.
so, I have sucessfully had 6 classes. And it is December. Tomorrow. Successfully doing nothing the entire time I'm here.
My life consists of sleeping, trying to unsuccessfully do homework that really doesn't exist, watching movies, doing laundry, starting research and nothing. :D
I hope your finals go well, while I haven't even started my classes.
I think finals aren't for two more weeks, it's just to make a point.
AND. craziness, there are some who are involved in the strike are calling for violence, so I have no wolof or french (which continues even if there is a strike) because the professors are afraid of violence. Woohoo. Good thing violence is towards the University and not students.
I'll have to update you tomorrow on AG and strike.
bisous.
30 November 2010
23 November 2010
Okay, so I lied to you. I really hope you can forgive me. I merely updated once. I had all the best intentions to post again, but uploading pictures to my computer was just not happening. BUT, now, this will be an extra long three-in-one post about everything good: Tabaski, goats, and Goree Island. So, sit tight, hold on and get ready for the ride of your life. (I really hope it isn’t, because let’s be honest, that would be pretty pathetic for the ride of your life.)
Let’s start with Tabaski. So, based on the assumption that you read my last post, you know what it is. And if you didn’t read the last post, go back right now and do it. I’ll wait. Are you done? Good. Let’s continue. So. Tabaski. Let’s just say that this holiday is unlike any other. Or just like every other, however you want to say it. But let’s back up to the killing of the rams. Two words: complete disappointment. Now you start to talk about slaughtering something and the women here start to cringe. Therefore, I assumed that it would be gross and I wouldn’t want to eat meat for the next two years. Exciting, right? Sadly enough, all they did was slit its throat and bleed it out into a hole in the ground. Although, I did learn by mere observation that when their throats are slit, the excrete everything that was left in their bladders and intestines. But I guess I would too if someone slit my throat and bled me out. I’m also not going to test that theory. My apologies. The word on the street is that the gross part is when they gut the poor guys, which I didn’t see. But it was pretty gross when my brother brought down a tub of guts and started playing with it. Just saying.
Now, this holiday is like the 4th of July. After cleaning out the ram, we grilled a bunch of ram ribs and ate them, which ram ribs create more smoke than an entire case of burgers! And it made me miss That’s the 4th of July part. Now enter Thanksgiving. I gorged myself seven, yes seven, times. I guess gorge is not the proper term, but I ate that many times. Let’s count them together!
1. Breakfast. Bread with raspberry jam and butter. Malaria pill and a glass of water.
2. Post-slaughter meal. Grilled ram ribs, French fries, pickles, onions and olives. Don’t forget homemade mayo (one egg and probably two cups of oil… nassssssssty!) and mustard.
3. Pre-lunch meal. Grilled ram liver with mustard.
4. Pre lunch snack. Crepes and cake. Really delicious.
5. Lunch. Grilled ram, I think. With lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and mustard. This is where I gorged myself on lettuce and tomatoes, which I now like plain. It’s amazing what Africa does to you!
6. Post-lunch meal. Ram stew over rice with bread and beans.
7. Dinner. Grilled ram with French fries, vegetables and ketchup and mustard. (real treat was the ketchup here!)
8. Whoa. Make that eight times. I went home and had crepes again.
Now, between lunch and post-lunch (or pre-dinner) I changed into my bling boubou. Now, as I said, it was bling, but that didn’t stop me from feeling COMPLETELy ridiculous. I couldn’t walk very well, but I did it anyway. Some man at a boutique (like a convenient store) told me I was looking good. To which I responded that I could not move, so he decided to teach me. And they way I was supposed to walk made me look even more ridiculous! Oh well. :)
To go back which holiday Tabaski is like, I’m throwing in Christmas, because everyone gets together and spends the day hanging out, which made me miss home just a little. Especially since Thanksgiving is this week! And, I also received a present from the two young guys who work at the boutique in front of my house! (So I brought them crepes.)
On a great Tabaski end note, Suzanne, a girl who frequents the house, cleaned and played with the ram testicles. I didn’t ask when we would be eating them. That was not on my agenda.
Moving on to the next topic, goats. They are EVERYWHERE. They are my favorite decoration on campus. And currently, they are all having babies! So instead of goats, there are baby goats! They are incredibly cute. I’d give you some pictures, but I didn’t upload them yet. I know what you’re thinking, but give me a break, I saw them today! Anyway, I’ll post some pictures later.
Ile de Goree. I have been there before, but Alison asked me to go with her, so I decided I would accompany her. We successfully took the ferry across to the island and disembarked, avoiding paying the 500 cfa tax to walk around the island. We walked everywhere. It’s cool, extremely colonial. I don’t feel like writing, so I’m just going to post and narrate pictures. Sorry. But I did successfully get into a fight with two people. And I met a tour guide. And I interviewed him yesterday and met his family. And I’m going to eat there again on Saturday! I’m glad I made the move to talk to that guy.
And, in another pathetic attempt to get mail from home, I’m feeling incredibly homesick right now. So please, send me something. Thanks.
And sorry, no narration, my computer is about to die.
Let’s start with Tabaski. So, based on the assumption that you read my last post, you know what it is. And if you didn’t read the last post, go back right now and do it. I’ll wait. Are you done? Good. Let’s continue. So. Tabaski. Let’s just say that this holiday is unlike any other. Or just like every other, however you want to say it. But let’s back up to the killing of the rams. Two words: complete disappointment. Now you start to talk about slaughtering something and the women here start to cringe. Therefore, I assumed that it would be gross and I wouldn’t want to eat meat for the next two years. Exciting, right? Sadly enough, all they did was slit its throat and bleed it out into a hole in the ground. Although, I did learn by mere observation that when their throats are slit, the excrete everything that was left in their bladders and intestines. But I guess I would too if someone slit my throat and bled me out. I’m also not going to test that theory. My apologies. The word on the street is that the gross part is when they gut the poor guys, which I didn’t see. But it was pretty gross when my brother brought down a tub of guts and started playing with it. Just saying.
Now, this holiday is like the 4th of July. After cleaning out the ram, we grilled a bunch of ram ribs and ate them, which ram ribs create more smoke than an entire case of burgers! And it made me miss That’s the 4th of July part. Now enter Thanksgiving. I gorged myself seven, yes seven, times. I guess gorge is not the proper term, but I ate that many times. Let’s count them together!
1. Breakfast. Bread with raspberry jam and butter. Malaria pill and a glass of water.
2. Post-slaughter meal. Grilled ram ribs, French fries, pickles, onions and olives. Don’t forget homemade mayo (one egg and probably two cups of oil… nassssssssty!) and mustard.
3. Pre-lunch meal. Grilled ram liver with mustard.
4. Pre lunch snack. Crepes and cake. Really delicious.
5. Lunch. Grilled ram, I think. With lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers and mustard. This is where I gorged myself on lettuce and tomatoes, which I now like plain. It’s amazing what Africa does to you!
6. Post-lunch meal. Ram stew over rice with bread and beans.
7. Dinner. Grilled ram with French fries, vegetables and ketchup and mustard. (real treat was the ketchup here!)
8. Whoa. Make that eight times. I went home and had crepes again.
Now, between lunch and post-lunch (or pre-dinner) I changed into my bling boubou. Now, as I said, it was bling, but that didn’t stop me from feeling COMPLETELy ridiculous. I couldn’t walk very well, but I did it anyway. Some man at a boutique (like a convenient store) told me I was looking good. To which I responded that I could not move, so he decided to teach me. And they way I was supposed to walk made me look even more ridiculous! Oh well. :)
To go back which holiday Tabaski is like, I’m throwing in Christmas, because everyone gets together and spends the day hanging out, which made me miss home just a little. Especially since Thanksgiving is this week! And, I also received a present from the two young guys who work at the boutique in front of my house! (So I brought them crepes.)
On a great Tabaski end note, Suzanne, a girl who frequents the house, cleaned and played with the ram testicles. I didn’t ask when we would be eating them. That was not on my agenda.
Moving on to the next topic, goats. They are EVERYWHERE. They are my favorite decoration on campus. And currently, they are all having babies! So instead of goats, there are baby goats! They are incredibly cute. I’d give you some pictures, but I didn’t upload them yet. I know what you’re thinking, but give me a break, I saw them today! Anyway, I’ll post some pictures later.
Ile de Goree. I have been there before, but Alison asked me to go with her, so I decided I would accompany her. We successfully took the ferry across to the island and disembarked, avoiding paying the 500 cfa tax to walk around the island. We walked everywhere. It’s cool, extremely colonial. I don’t feel like writing, so I’m just going to post and narrate pictures. Sorry. But I did successfully get into a fight with two people. And I met a tour guide. And I interviewed him yesterday and met his family. And I’m going to eat there again on Saturday! I’m glad I made the move to talk to that guy.
And, in another pathetic attempt to get mail from home, I’m feeling incredibly homesick right now. So please, send me something. Thanks.
And sorry, no narration, my computer is about to die.
15 November 2010
Tabaski Time. Pt. 1 muttons!
Now. I don't want to hear any complaints about posting. I will be posting several times this week, and this is to make up for and save up for when I do not post. :D
Tabaski.
A wonderful festival. This is the celebration of when Abraham decided to kill his son and God gave him a ram instead. Muslims celebrate this as "Tabaski" The men in the family kill a mutton (ram/ sheep... since rams are sheep) and then they prepare it, get fly dressed up and eat it.
*Note: At Tabaski time, it is against their religion to kill and eat female muttons. If a mutton is not available (which seems incredibly impossible), you may use a chevre(goat) or a camel. Now, here's the thing. The man who explained this said that it is normally because of financial reasons that one cannot use a mutton. I'm not a rocket scientist or anything, but camels are a LOT bigger than muttons. Therefore, would not camels be more expensive than muttons? I'm just asking.
**Note on the Note: Female muttons may be eaten at any other time of the year.
Now. You're asking yourself... where are these pictures of Kate looking great? Now defal ndank followers. (defal ndank will roughly translate to chill out or slow your roll) The fete (party) isn't even until tomorrow and by tomorrow, I mean Wednesday. I'm just blessing your presence with another post simply because I'm just that nice!
So... begin fotos.
Well, begin text, then photos. SO. Today. I decided to go into downtown Dakar. What spirit provoked me to do so, I have no idea. That was NOT a good idea. First. REWIND. Coming back from Saint-Louis to Dakar, which was a 4 hour trip the first time, took 10 hours. NOW. Add to the fact that the windows did not open on the bus, the seats go five across, and they have that funky, itchy car floor type material covering them, I, Yours beloved, got stuck on top of the tire. Yep, that's right. I spent ten hours scruntched (Spelling, please?!) up in a ball, shoving my knees into the horribly itchy carpet seats while the man in front of me was continually grunting because I was giving him an involuntary "back massage" Now... apart from my discomfort, I must say that the ride was beautiful. We left at 2 o'clock... and were coming into Dakar-ish area around sunset. Do you know how cool the sunset with Baobabs in the foreground is?! I bet you would if I could have taken a picture. But I couldn't, so I'm just teasing you for next time I come back at nightfall. My apologies for being mean like that. AND when we got closer into Dakar, on top of and in the trunks of most cars were... you guessed it! (probably not) MUTTONS! Tied up and looking incredibly sad. But they were cute on top of the roof of what would be compared to fifteen passenger vans.
Fast forward to present-day Dakar. I grab a taxi to go downtown and prices are HIGH. I'm talking 4 bucks. CRAZY. So, a normal trip into town would have been, what, 13.5 minutes at the most. We spent at least half an hour just trying to get down there. So on the way, this i what I see! Enjoy. and I lied, this was the trip home.
Also, I almost forgot about Baayfall Rastaman (Baayfall is a sect of a brotherhood... basically if you see someone who looks like Bob Marley... He's a baayfall. And they don't wear shoes, I guess. And they say "trrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrranquil!" which is slightly obnoxious, but you have to love it.) who tried to sell me a mutton while in the taxi. He noticed me noticing his fine muttons and encouraged me to buy one. After I said that it was okay, I didn't need a mutton, he was sad. So I told him "apres" (later, or next time in senegalese speak... aka NEVER) and he was happier. Traffic Jam moved ten feet forward, and five minutes later, I still wanted to look at his gorgeous muttons (He had a pretty shell collar. It's not everyday a mutton has a nice collar), so I turned around. He got excited that I was going to buy, because I think he assumed that this moment was "apres" but I had to turn him down again. Although, if I had to buy any mutton, it would have been his, because they came with pretty collars. And I wouldn't kill him. I'd name him Xaar-bi (aka Harvey) which is the sheep in Wolof. Xaar=sheep bi=the. I must admit that I'm ingenious.
Another note on muttons. They have mutton shows here like we have dog shows in the states. Except here, you don't win as much money, but you do win Adja, my preferred margarine!
Now, you are also privy (Spelling again, please!?) to this lovely video I took while on the way home. It's incredible. Probably up for a Grammy. Or Oscar. Which ever one is better. Maybe MTV music video award? OHHHHHHHHHH baby. This is just a short clip of the amount of muttons in the city right now. MUTTONS GALORRRRRRRRRRRRE!
Let me just say that you should thank the internet here for uploading the video incredibly slow. For that reason, you have received an EXTREMELY long blog post. Well... that failed. Literally, that is what blogspot just told me, soooo I shall post the video to facebook and you may view it there.
Tabaski.
A wonderful festival. This is the celebration of when Abraham decided to kill his son and God gave him a ram instead. Muslims celebrate this as "Tabaski" The men in the family kill a mutton (ram/ sheep... since rams are sheep) and then they prepare it, get fly dressed up and eat it.
*Note: At Tabaski time, it is against their religion to kill and eat female muttons. If a mutton is not available (which seems incredibly impossible), you may use a chevre(goat) or a camel. Now, here's the thing. The man who explained this said that it is normally because of financial reasons that one cannot use a mutton. I'm not a rocket scientist or anything, but camels are a LOT bigger than muttons. Therefore, would not camels be more expensive than muttons? I'm just asking.
**Note on the Note: Female muttons may be eaten at any other time of the year.
Now. You're asking yourself... where are these pictures of Kate looking great? Now defal ndank followers. (defal ndank will roughly translate to chill out or slow your roll) The fete (party) isn't even until tomorrow and by tomorrow, I mean Wednesday. I'm just blessing your presence with another post simply because I'm just that nice!
So... begin fotos.
Well, begin text, then photos. SO. Today. I decided to go into downtown Dakar. What spirit provoked me to do so, I have no idea. That was NOT a good idea. First. REWIND. Coming back from Saint-Louis to Dakar, which was a 4 hour trip the first time, took 10 hours. NOW. Add to the fact that the windows did not open on the bus, the seats go five across, and they have that funky, itchy car floor type material covering them, I, Yours beloved, got stuck on top of the tire. Yep, that's right. I spent ten hours scruntched (Spelling, please?!) up in a ball, shoving my knees into the horribly itchy carpet seats while the man in front of me was continually grunting because I was giving him an involuntary "back massage" Now... apart from my discomfort, I must say that the ride was beautiful. We left at 2 o'clock... and were coming into Dakar-ish area around sunset. Do you know how cool the sunset with Baobabs in the foreground is?! I bet you would if I could have taken a picture. But I couldn't, so I'm just teasing you for next time I come back at nightfall. My apologies for being mean like that. AND when we got closer into Dakar, on top of and in the trunks of most cars were... you guessed it! (probably not) MUTTONS! Tied up and looking incredibly sad. But they were cute on top of the roof of what would be compared to fifteen passenger vans.
Fast forward to present-day Dakar. I grab a taxi to go downtown and prices are HIGH. I'm talking 4 bucks. CRAZY. So, a normal trip into town would have been, what, 13.5 minutes at the most. We spent at least half an hour just trying to get down there. So on the way, this i what I see! Enjoy. and I lied, this was the trip home.
Also, I almost forgot about Baayfall Rastaman (Baayfall is a sect of a brotherhood... basically if you see someone who looks like Bob Marley... He's a baayfall. And they don't wear shoes, I guess. And they say "trrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrranquil!" which is slightly obnoxious, but you have to love it.) who tried to sell me a mutton while in the taxi. He noticed me noticing his fine muttons and encouraged me to buy one. After I said that it was okay, I didn't need a mutton, he was sad. So I told him "apres" (later, or next time in senegalese speak... aka NEVER) and he was happier. Traffic Jam moved ten feet forward, and five minutes later, I still wanted to look at his gorgeous muttons (He had a pretty shell collar. It's not everyday a mutton has a nice collar), so I turned around. He got excited that I was going to buy, because I think he assumed that this moment was "apres" but I had to turn him down again. Although, if I had to buy any mutton, it would have been his, because they came with pretty collars. And I wouldn't kill him. I'd name him Xaar-bi (aka Harvey) which is the sheep in Wolof. Xaar=sheep bi=the. I must admit that I'm ingenious.
Another note on muttons. They have mutton shows here like we have dog shows in the states. Except here, you don't win as much money, but you do win Adja, my preferred margarine!
Now, you are also privy (Spelling again, please!?) to this lovely video I took while on the way home. It's incredible. Probably up for a Grammy. Or Oscar. Which ever one is better. Maybe MTV music video award? OHHHHHHHHHH baby. This is just a short clip of the amount of muttons in the city right now. MUTTONS GALORRRRRRRRRRRRE!
Let me just say that you should thank the internet here for uploading the video incredibly slow. For that reason, you have received an EXTREMELY long blog post. Well... that failed. Literally, that is what blogspot just told me, soooo I shall post the video to facebook and you may view it there.
10 November 2010
Pictures. Halloween. a la senegalais. with some crabs.
This is the bridge we have to cross to get from our side of the continent to Saint-Louis, the island. Now, picture a herd of muttons (sheep) crossing at the same time. It just doesn't work too well.
Cows. On the beach. They walked on our xaal wolof (watermelon) that we buried in the sand. See pictures further down.
Modou, Masse and Joleen burying our xaal. Which was waay too hot to eat after spending an hour baking in the sun.
Hannah, Joleen, the Atlantic Ocean and Xaal Wolof.
Hannah enjoying her xaal wolof. It was delicious! By the way, they call it the wolof melon (black) and there's a toubab melon (white) which I think is cantelope.
Modou and Masse tressing Joleen. They also argued over who would be a better hairdresser. I think Modou won.
Andrew, our only male in the program. He also has two alter-egos... André Gilber and Aziz Ndiaye. Ridiculous. :) also... wild card and Numero 2.
Masse. Our Enormous friend who is hilarious. AKA the gentle giant...
Modou. Skinny, tall, ridiculously dark and super strong (superman style). Also just made the basketball team at the University!
Hannah. The brains. Intelligence. Peach cakes. No counter egos... yet.
Joleen and crab. I'm proud of this picture. I actually kicked the crab while digging in the sand. I screamed. the jefe. Pumpkin buns. Zucchini flower.
'
Modou, Andrew and Masse burying the crab I kicked.
Joleen balancing xaal wolof on her head! Like a true senegalese!
The scary part of our halloween. Modou with a knife!
And, as usual... boats! I love them!Okay, we're late for wolof class.
Send me things. I feel deprived. with stamps... and things like leaves in the cards! Thanks Sharon! :D :D I loved it!
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