Host families are pretty awesome! Senegalese keyboards, not so much (the keys are switched around).

In my room at my host family’s house I have a TV, a computer, a couch, and a private bathroom, which begs the question of why I go to Princeton at all when I could just live in luxury in Senegal. I mean, shared bathrooms down the hall? How déclassé compared to a house that’s three stories plus a walk-on roof with a spectacular view of the neighborhood and the goat that lives on the roof next door. Downstairs, my bedroom window opens onto a semi-indoor garden and just outside my room there’s a couch and coffee table where my host mother brought me breakfast this morning (although I do wish she would stop pampering me). And there’s Wifi. I wish I could express how in love with my host family’s house I am right now.

I’m pretty in love with my host family, too. My host mother is young and gorgeous and has three adorable kids and is a social worker. She works with the families of youth who have been arrested to help them reintegrate into society after they’re released from prison (or juvenile detention centers? I’m not quite sure how the Senegalese justice system works). My host father is a tax official and teaches economics at the University Cheikh Anta Diop, also known as the University of Dakar. I’m not entirely sure what being a tax official entails, but he’s traveled to almost every country in Africa and much (although I’m not quite sure how much) or Europe, Asia, and North America for work, so I’m guessing it’s pretty important. He definitely wears very legit looking suits. And watches CNN.

The oldest daughter, Marie Sophie, is nine and goes to a bilingual French/English school, along with Ibrahima, her six-year-old brother. Khadija, the three-year-old youngest sister, might speak better French than I do. Maybe. The older two definitely do. And they speak Wolof with the nanny. Which means that these kids are going to be actively trilingual by the age of ten. So jealous. I’ve been asked to speak English with Marie Sophie to help her improve, although she’s already quite good. Her English is probably better than my French. Again, maybe.

I spent a good portion of the evening watching Hannah Montana in French with Marie Sophie on the massive TV in their living room. Because of course the first time I’d watch a Miley Cyrus TV show would be in Senegal. Then the Jonas Brothers came on and I told Marie Sophie that they were from New Jersey, too, which seriously impressed her. I was actually quite worried about how our interactions would go, because I’m not much of a kid person, but all three kids are really sweet. And they call me sister. And they like to hug. Which is a definite plus. My host mom hugged me, too, after I asked if I could call her mom. Clearly the way to a mother’s heart.

I spent from 4:30-11:00 yesterday speaking French with the family, which was intense and definitely had moments of me deer-in-headlightsing because I had no idea what was going on, but was also me speaking French for six-and-half hours, which isn’t shabby for my second day in Senegal. Although this morning when I woke up I was definitely not ready to speak more French. But there were birds singing in the garden outside my window and host mother gave me half of a gigantic baguette for breakfast and my host father’s chauffer drove me to WARC before dropping my father off at work, so life is pretty good.