Oh boy Senny!!!

Well, I have been in Senegal for a month now and I have seen, done, experienced, and reflected upon waay too many things to possibly describe in a blog (remember, I am taking classes, doing research, and just living it up Senegalese style). So basically...I don't have as much time for you guys as I would like, but I will try my gosh darnedest. :)

Hmm, mmm. Let me clear my throat. Let's begin... To be honest, I didn't really know what to expect when coming to Senegal. I knew that it was in West Africa, I knew I would be on the coast near the capital and biggest city Dakar (I am in a sort of suburb of Dakar known as Yoff), I knew Senegal was predominately Muslim, I thought the people of Yoff's livlihoods revolved around fishing (which in fact it really doesn't--and I will get into fishing a little later), I knew I would be living with a traditional Senegalese family (but I couldn't tell you who), and I knew that it was going to be different. But I really didn't have any concrete idea of what I was throwing myself into. And I had no idea how different/similar life would be from home or Paris or anywhere else I had experienced. And let me tell you, it really is different. And I experienced culture shock(and still am everyday) like I never had before.

So first off simply arriving at the airport was an experience. Basically, from what I saw, Dakar's airport is not much more than a building that houses a small baggage claim area (mind you Dakar has a metropolitan population around 3 million). It was a battle to get out because hundreds of people were trying to shove their bags onto one x-ray conveyor belt just for the heck of it (I don't even think that the x-ray machine was working). So ok, I'm out of the hot, humid airport. It's gonna be smooth sailing from here on out. Wrong. Right when I get out all kinds of people try to get me to give them my bags and to get into their taxi (Side note about taxis: Taxis rule Dakar. They are owned by individuals and are everywhere. I mean like 7 out of 10 cars on the road are taxis. And get this. Instead of you calling for a taxi, the taxi calls for you. The driver honks at you and sticks out his head inquisitively as if to say, "You need a taxi? Please get in my taxi. Pretty please with sugar on top. Ok, you don't want a taxi. Fine. I'm leaving!") Anyway, it was actually quite overwhelming and somewhat alarming outside of the airport because I didn't know what the people who were picking me up looked like. Ok, phew! Found my peeps and pushed my way through all the cab drivers and hustlers. Next task: Get into a taxi and make it to my anonymous host family...my adventure will continue shortly. Don't worry, I am still alive and well.