Marie Sophie introduced me to her cousin. She said I was from New Jersey. He said he was well acquainted with New Jersey. He watches Jersey Shore. Jersey Shore has reached Dakar.
The phrase for 'bumper cars' in French is 'auto tamponneuses'. We now call the bumper cars near my house the tampon cars.
Was walking past the tampon cars when I recognized the music to ATC's 'All Around the World (La La La La La)'. I haven't listened to that song since maybe 2001. I still remembered an embarrassing number of the words. Now! 6 was such a great CD.
Had a meeting with the Princeton postgraduate fellowship advisor in My Shop via Skype. She asked my GPA. There are some things I would rather not say in public. Yet another example of how privacy does not exist in Senegal.
Decided to determine what proportion of taxis honk at me as I pass. During an approximately ten minute period of my walk home, ten of the thirty taxis that passed me honked. 1/3, dear readers. Fully 1/3. Considering that another 1/3 probably already had passengers, basically 1/2 of all empty taxis passing feel it's necessary to honk to alert me to their presence. Because obviously even thought I'm walking (and often walking in the opposite direction), their honking might suddenly remind me that I actually want to take a taxi. My data would also suggest that I'm honked at once every minute, although it feels less frequent because the honks tend to come in pairs. Because clearly if I didn't react when the first taxi honked, it makes perfect sense for the taxi just behind to honk, too. Maybe his will be the one to convince me that I simply can't walk any further and must immediately jump into a cab heading the wrong way.
A man yelled, "Lady, you are pretty!" at me as I waited for a bus. Considered replying, "No I'm not. Are you insane?"
Think a group of preteen boys made kissing noises as I walked past.
A five-year-old kid called me a tubab on my way to school. I hate seeing kids pick up the bad habits of their elders, like when Khadijatou insulted the boy in her preschool for playing with dolls. It's so much more pleasant to think that children are tabula rasa, but if they ever are, that stage is long gone by the age of three.
Someone's been reading my blog from Indonesia. Ufortunately that still counts as part of Asia. Come on, people of Oceania! Make my life complete, why don't you.
My African Lit professor went on a tangent during class (hardly a rare occurrence) and told us about how as a preteen, he was circumcised in the brush. I far prefer thinking things like that only happen in African literature.
My mosquito killing skills have increased tenfold in the past week. I just felt the need to share that with the world. Does anyone know why squashed mosquito innards resemble charcoal?
Held down the three-year-old while her mother administered a rectal medicine. I have never felt so much like an accessory to rape.
I have already eaten a baguette and a quarter or a baguette and a third today and it is only just after lunch. There will be more baguette with dinner.
A stranger I passed on the street held up his hand for me to give him a high five. When I didn't, he slapped me on the shoulder instead.
Got a marriage proposal at 8:05 am the other day. What a way to start off the morning.
A man in his thirties approached me at WARC to ask if I would fund his studies/research. Why would I, a twenty year old student, fund the studies/research of a man ten to fifteen years older than me? I wonder if people here are ashamed when they ask such preposterous and humiliating questions. I would hope so.
My friend Ioana went to The Gambia over Spring Break. Apparently sex tourism is fairly big there. But not sex tourism the way you'd assume (or at least the way I'd assume), between older European/American men and younger Gambian women. Instead, it's between older European/American women and younger Gambian men. Let's just say Ioana had some stories about shenanigans occurring in her hotel.
Gambian man offering himself to Ioana as a prostitute: "Nice lady, nice lady. Would you like my company?" Unlike many of the quotes on this blog, that one hasn't been translated. Gambia's official language is English. I'd almost rather hear something that disturbing in French. It makes it less real, somehow, keeping the literal meaning but losing the emotional one. For me, 'Ich liebe dich' does not at all mean the same as 'I love you.' 'Je t'aime' comes closer but still doesn't carry the same weight.
A major difference between men in Senegal and The Gambia: men in The Gambia want to sleep with you if you'll pay them. Men in Senegal want to sleep with you for free.
Have I always been this deeply politically incorrect?
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