Senegal Stories
Class Afloat, looking to give back and learn more from some of the communities that we dock in, started a program called West African Initiative. Here, we get the chance to work with a Senegalese youth group on different projects: some related to culture, and others to aid. Mostly, the exchange is a way for us to become travelers, and not simply tourists… an opportunity to become much more conscious and aware of the non-Western world, and for us to forge alliances with the Senegalese. While most of our ports-of-call keep us for a few days shy of a week, we stay for 10 days in Dakar to fully enable our cultural learning experience to take place.
My first impression of the Senegalese capital is that it is of an unbearable temperature. The mercury reaches 42 degrees Celsius on the same day that my Calgarian friends are on the map for being in the one of the coldest places on Earth, second only to Antarctica. Never have I been more Canadian – the heat exhaustion I suffer from makes me long for our winters … or at least a decent air-conditioned environment. I find temporary relief at a café that serves the best banana split I’ve ever treated myself to. A local hotel’s refreshing outdoor pool also serves as a nice retreat from the African sun. Earlier statement re: Canadian winters now retracted.
Despite the fact that I am ailed by some sort of heat/food/sickly affliction for a significant part of our stay here, I am still fortunate enough to see much of what makes it unique. First on the list is the hospitality of its people. While at first it can be difficult to distinguish whether someone is trying to sell you a shell necklace, or sincerely trying to welcome you to their country, it is quickly assessable that, as a general rule, people here are very kind, and they look out for one another. And the people trying to sell you shell necklaces, and ‘authentic’ Dior perfume that’s heavily discounted because it fell off a supply truck… well, they give you a story to tell.
Senegalese vendors offer everything from jewelry, to fabric, to art made with butterfly wings, to marriage proposals. As Christina and I were perusing the markets, an older man grabs me by the arm, attempting to sell me non-copyright infringed Ray Bans. His first price is 10 000 CFAs… about 20$, At my refusal, he drops the price by half. By this point, he has been following us around for a few blocks. We try to skillfully deter his advances by walking into every store we walk past. This game of hard-to-get only motivates him further. “My sistah, what is your name!?” he says. “Chantalle. And I’m sorry, but I don’t need sunglasses” “ Maria! Ahhh it is such a beautiful name – Maria, for you, I give for 2000”.
Maybe I caved because I had had enough of being followed around for 20 minutes. Maybe I bought them cause really, they were a decent pair of shades. Maybe I liked that he called me Maria…or maybe it was the fact that he put the sunglasses in my hands, and grabbed the 2000 CFA bill I had out that made me call it even. Whatever it was, they took a solid 10 minutes to break. And yet, I still wear them triumphantly.
Part of our time in Senegal was dedicated to a service project that we had chosen. Mine was of the microfinance variety with an organization called SEM, which is associated with the better-known kiva.org. Some of us also spent some time at a local infant orphanage. Babies here were all 12 months or younger – their mothers died during childbirth, or soon thereafter. They are cared for at this specific orphanage to be nursed properly during their first year of life before being taken back into the care of their fathers. The best way to describe it would be to say that it was a paradox of emotions…simultaneously heartbreaking, and heartwarming. The children were, of course, beautiful. I momentarily thought of pulling a Madonna/Angelia Jolie/other Hollywood celebrity that adopts babies from Africa. However affecting that morning might have been, I left with the impression that they were most attentively cared for.
Our visit to Goree Island was also a contradiction of sentiments. This small island is said to have been the final African stop for slaves before their transatlantic crossing, hundreds of years ago. The natural beauty of the island contrasted deeply with the unsettling sense of soberness felt while here. To take in the events that happened on the island, not to mention those that followed, was unquestionably altering. I will remember Goree Island as not only a moving place, but also as a place full of lovely people and awe-inspiring sights. I will also remember its delicious chicken yassa fondly.
On one of our final nights in the West African country, we were treated to a drum and samba dancing soirée. Hundreds of people were partaking in the street party that this soon became. As their guests, they had prepared for us a vast seating area, where we enjoyed a front-row view of the evening’s celebration. Everyone seemed to revel in the beauty of it all… here we were, an ocean away from familiarity, but feeling at home at a local Senegalese neighbourhood dance party. Children sat on our laps while we clapped our hands to the beat, or took us by the hand and taught us how to samba properly… or at least tried to. Africa has shown me that I am keenly aware of whiteness of my skin in two occasions: (1) while in extremely hot weather conditions, and (2) while dancing. As us Canadians were awed to be partaking in this cultural experience, our Senegalese friends seemed just as thrilled to have the chance to share this part of themselves with us. It was impossible to find someone who was not having a fantastic time…someone who wasn’t smiling from the inside out. If there were to be a main theme of the evening, I would say that ‘happiness’ would have been it.
Come to think of it, ‘happiness’ would easily encompass the length of our stay here. Perhaps the most important of lessons that I have taken from my time in Senegal is that happiness is best found in simplicity.
Merry Christmas to everyone! I’ll be posting about the Atlantic crossing soon! xoxo
My first impression of the Senegalese capital is that it is of an unbearable temperature. The mercury reaches 42 degrees Celsius on the same day that my Calgarian friends are on the map for being in the one of the coldest places on Earth, second only to Antarctica. Never have I been more Canadian – the heat exhaustion I suffer from makes me long for our winters … or at least a decent air-conditioned environment. I find temporary relief at a café that serves the best banana split I’ve ever treated myself to. A local hotel’s refreshing outdoor pool also serves as a nice retreat from the African sun. Earlier statement re: Canadian winters now retracted.
Despite the fact that I am ailed by some sort of heat/food/sickly affliction for a significant part of our stay here, I am still fortunate enough to see much of what makes it unique. First on the list is the hospitality of its people. While at first it can be difficult to distinguish whether someone is trying to sell you a shell necklace, or sincerely trying to welcome you to their country, it is quickly assessable that, as a general rule, people here are very kind, and they look out for one another. And the people trying to sell you shell necklaces, and ‘authentic’ Dior perfume that’s heavily discounted because it fell off a supply truck… well, they give you a story to tell.
Senegalese vendors offer everything from jewelry, to fabric, to art made with butterfly wings, to marriage proposals. As Christina and I were perusing the markets, an older man grabs me by the arm, attempting to sell me non-copyright infringed Ray Bans. His first price is 10 000 CFAs… about 20$, At my refusal, he drops the price by half. By this point, he has been following us around for a few blocks. We try to skillfully deter his advances by walking into every store we walk past. This game of hard-to-get only motivates him further. “My sistah, what is your name!?” he says. “Chantalle. And I’m sorry, but I don’t need sunglasses” “ Maria! Ahhh it is such a beautiful name – Maria, for you, I give for 2000”.
Maybe I caved because I had had enough of being followed around for 20 minutes. Maybe I bought them cause really, they were a decent pair of shades. Maybe I liked that he called me Maria…or maybe it was the fact that he put the sunglasses in my hands, and grabbed the 2000 CFA bill I had out that made me call it even. Whatever it was, they took a solid 10 minutes to break. And yet, I still wear them triumphantly.
Part of our time in Senegal was dedicated to a service project that we had chosen. Mine was of the microfinance variety with an organization called SEM, which is associated with the better-known kiva.org. Some of us also spent some time at a local infant orphanage. Babies here were all 12 months or younger – their mothers died during childbirth, or soon thereafter. They are cared for at this specific orphanage to be nursed properly during their first year of life before being taken back into the care of their fathers. The best way to describe it would be to say that it was a paradox of emotions…simultaneously heartbreaking, and heartwarming. The children were, of course, beautiful. I momentarily thought of pulling a Madonna/Angelia Jolie/other Hollywood celebrity that adopts babies from Africa. However affecting that morning might have been, I left with the impression that they were most attentively cared for.
Our visit to Goree Island was also a contradiction of sentiments. This small island is said to have been the final African stop for slaves before their transatlantic crossing, hundreds of years ago. The natural beauty of the island contrasted deeply with the unsettling sense of soberness felt while here. To take in the events that happened on the island, not to mention those that followed, was unquestionably altering. I will remember Goree Island as not only a moving place, but also as a place full of lovely people and awe-inspiring sights. I will also remember its delicious chicken yassa fondly.
On one of our final nights in the West African country, we were treated to a drum and samba dancing soirée. Hundreds of people were partaking in the street party that this soon became. As their guests, they had prepared for us a vast seating area, where we enjoyed a front-row view of the evening’s celebration. Everyone seemed to revel in the beauty of it all… here we were, an ocean away from familiarity, but feeling at home at a local Senegalese neighbourhood dance party. Children sat on our laps while we clapped our hands to the beat, or took us by the hand and taught us how to samba properly… or at least tried to. Africa has shown me that I am keenly aware of whiteness of my skin in two occasions: (1) while in extremely hot weather conditions, and (2) while dancing. As us Canadians were awed to be partaking in this cultural experience, our Senegalese friends seemed just as thrilled to have the chance to share this part of themselves with us. It was impossible to find someone who was not having a fantastic time…someone who wasn’t smiling from the inside out. If there were to be a main theme of the evening, I would say that ‘happiness’ would have been it.
Come to think of it, ‘happiness’ would easily encompass the length of our stay here. Perhaps the most important of lessons that I have taken from my time in Senegal is that happiness is best found in simplicity.
Merry Christmas to everyone! I’ll be posting about the Atlantic crossing soon! xoxo
Can't wait for the next entry.
ReplyDeleteAntoine just read your blog and again it reminded him of his time on the Concordia. He cant wait to finish university to be a teacher on the ship!
Charles
Ah, Chantalle -- Merry Christmas plus a day!! This is one that you will always remember ... living the truest of all Christmas intentions... "simple happiness". I can see you dancing and laughing half way round the globe. Thought of you during our rosy lunar eclipse and of the moon smiling down over you in Senegal.
ReplyDeleteI am back from two months in AZ and leaving now for teaching/nurturing in San Miguel de Allende. Back in time to teach Semester II at CFIS. Wouldn't we be lucky to have both you and your sister next year??
Wishing you love and care as your adventure moves into 2011. So proud of you, my friend. / XO Judy