At least six girls in my group have been groped on the street. Whenever I start to feel comfortable walking home by myself, I learn fun facts like that and swear to never walk alone again.
My host mother shouted at the three-year-old that if she vomits again, she will kill her.
A neighbor of my two friends who live in Baobab (a district of Dakar) has told them she wants to drink their blood.
Me: My dad has orange skinny jeans and my mom has purple ones. My parents are so much cooler than me.
Alice: Clearly.
Alice: (talking about a sixteen-year-old wearing bright green pants and no shirt and standing in the middle of the VDN trying to direct traffic) It was like he was Jesus.
Marie Sophie has spent the last week blasting Michael Jackson’s “Beat It” and singing along.
We were in a taxi with our African Cinema professor driving to a film screening at the Institut Français and Senegalese popstar Viviane Ndour’s “Waaw” came on the radio and we all started singing along to the chorus. The professor and the taxi driver were probably less than impressed.
Watched a Nigerian movie in my African Cinema class. Apparently Nollywood (because having Hollywood and Bollywood already wasn’t enough) puts out 1,800 movies a year. The one we saw had about five murders, five rapes, ten sex with prostitute scenes, and one backstreet abortion. Our professor told us afterwards that it was the most ‘tolerable’ Nollywood film he could find.
Alice’s host family installed solar panels in their house. Now they will always have power.
My host father was holding 150 10,000 CFA notes in his hands in the car on the way to school last week.That’s the equivalent of $75,000. $75,000 in $20 bills.
The three-year-old is learning English. She likes to interview herself: “What’s your name? I’m fine.”
Every day for a week, my host father bought ten loaves of bread at the boulangerie down the road for the group of women and children who sit on the side of the street. Then he stopped.
My host aunt and two of her children spent the weekend at my house. My host mother referred to me in conversation with her sister (sister-in-law?, other random relative they kids just call ‘aunt’?) several times as the ‘tubab’. That’s the first time anyone in my family has used that word. She was speaking Wolof, so I don’t think she thought I understood. But when you barely know a language, the few words you recognize tend to stick out.
I always thought the commercialization of holidays was an American thing, but my host family bought an Easter cake and Easter eggs even though they’re Muslim. They also love to look at Christmas lights. And buy Christmas presents.
Sunday morning, Marie Sophie and I were told to carry a crate of juice and a large box of rice as a gift to a neighbor who celebrates Easter. I love random acts of kindness, Senegal style.
Over breakfast on Sunday, we watched ‘Holy Week: The Cartoon Musical’. When I left, Pontius Pilate was singing in French.
Earplugs are officially the greatest invention of life. There were five kids in the house under the age of twelve all weekend. They were loud. There was also unexplained construction Monday morning, and my host parents had an argument Monday night. My JP (junior paper) was due Tuesday. I spent the entire three-day weekend editing it in my room. If I hadn’t had earplugs, I would have gone mad.
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