The one-month anniversary

Saturday morning (sometime around 6:00 am) was the one-month anniversary of my arrival in Dakar. Alice and I celebrated by cooking an American dinner. We went to a supermarket (yes, a supermarket, not just a back-alley market) in this mall built entirely of glass by the ocean that was so upscale that there were men to carry your bags (even your food shopping bags) all the way back through the mall and the parking lot. And they couldn’t even ask for our number because we could have reported them to their employers for harassment. I love laws. Especially when they’re enforced. We bought penne and searched for pesto, but the supermarket was out, so we bought spinach-ricotta sauce instead. We then bought fresh spinach to supplement to the sauce and eventually tomatoes and corn and, most excitingly of all, brownie mix. Yes, brownie mix can be purchased in Dakar. Knowing that, my life here is so much closer to complete.

Back at Alice’s house, the gas tank connected to her oven wasn’t working. (We selected Alice’s house for the celebratory feast because hers, unlike mine, has an oven. And a stove. Whereas cooking in my house happens on gas tanks on the roof with open flames where you balance pots.) We waited two hours for her mother to come home, at which point in time she diagnosed the problem as the tank being empty, so we went with Alice’s cousin to the market around the corner to exchange it for a full tank. But this one started to leak when connected to the oven. (Don’t you love gas leaks in the kitchen?) Alice’s mother fixed it after about twenty minutes of fiddling and smelling gas seep into the kitchen, so at about 8:00 we started to cook. And when the power went out shortly afterwards, my appreciation for freestanding gas tanks increased, because we could just keep on cooking in the dark.

The pasta and sauce both ended up tasting vaguely of school cafeteria because Alice’s mom (who was exceedingly helpful throughout the whole evening) was very concerned that we weren’t cooking them thoroughly enough and so made sure they stayed on the burner until the spinach had wilted to black. But it was still delightful to have pasta and vegetables that had recently been fresh. And the brownies were simply delicious. And Alice’s mom and dad and cousin ate with us and complemented us on our cooking, although they did find it rather bland, so that was sweet.

Afterwards, Alice and I watched a film and then went up onto her roof (it was about 12:30 at this point) to watch the people on the street below. A water line had burst just in front of her house, so it funny to watch cars pull up to the sudden pond in the road. And the stars were out and the big dipper seemed like it was just across the street and we were wrapped up in blankets because 65 at night with wind seems chilly when you’re used to the Senegalese sun. We went to bed around 2:00 (I slept over as Alice has an extra bed in her room) and at a bit after 6:00 I woke up because of prayers from the mosque across the street and thought about how I’d been here officially one month. But it was 6:00 am, so I couldn’t think anything too profound, and eventually I just fell back asleep.

Here are some pictures from a later culinary adventure, this time at my house, which apparently does have a working oven and stove. The girl in the first picture who isn't me is Abbey, not Alice. Alice took the pictures: