Damay dekk Senegal.

Title: I live in Senegal.

Salut, mes amis! Now that I am getting acclimated to Senegal, I guess it’s time to tell you something about my life here. I am living in Dakar, the capital of Senegal, with a host family. Dakar is huge (about 3 million people), expensive (42nd most expensive city in the world for Westerners to live in – more expensive than NYC!), coastal (the beach is a 10 minute walk from my house), Islamic (90% percent of the country is Muslim), modernized (especially downtown), cultured (considered the cultural, cosmopolitan center of West Africa), and politically troubled, though it is still hailed as one of the best successes for democracy in Africa.

My family is really great. I have a Papa, a Maman, a married older sister, 3 brothers, a sister-in-law, a little sister, and a sister I have yet to meet who is married and lives in Dakar. All but the last sister live in our huge house. My family is upper middle class, one of the wealthier homestay families. The house is two stories with a terrace as a third floor. There are 7 rooms, one of which is mine. I have electricity and running water, amenities my family does not waste but nor are they conservative with them. I even have wi-fi at my house. Skype me!

The family is nice but a little hard to get to know. They have been hosting every semester for years so I think that the novelty has worn off. For the first couple of weeks I spent a lot of time in my room with the door open, willing to talk to them but not seeking them out. Culture shock and language barriers will do that to you. But I am happy to say that I now seek out relationships with them. But it is still hard to find them in the house.

They all are fluent in Wolof, the traditional language of Dakar, and French. They all also read Arabic, as they are Muslim. Both the language and religion contributed to my culture shock. My first night in my house, I was sitting in the living room. My mother came in and told me to move over on the couch. She laid a rug in front of where my feet had been and knelt on it. I stared, trying to figure out what she was doing. It wasn’t until she looked up and caught me staring that I realized – she was praying, one of five times for the day. I had never seen this in person. It’s a shock to the system to see someone pray right in front of you, mumbling Arabic and standing and kneeling intermittently. In my Christian experience, people don’t pray out loud, ignoring the presence of someone else in the room. And people will pray in the streets here! And of course there have to be the few times I loudly and unknowingly call out for a family member who is in the process of praying. They don’t seem to mind interrupting their prayers, they do it for other family members too, but I still feel awkward about it. During my darker culture shock days, the Islamic influence bothered me. While I have always been a supporter of the Islamic faith, the snide comments about Muslims made by many Americans, I am ashamed to admit, must have seeped into my conscience. For when I was not in the mood to accept cultural differences, Islam in Senegal became an easy scapegoat. It wasn’t anything specific and I wasn’t referencing Islamic fundamentalism, as that is not really an issue here, but it was something I didn’t understand that I decided to make assumptions about. But I am back to being my normal self and seeing Islam through the eyes I see all other religions – as a faith with truths and faults, beautiful people and corrupted people, and a spirituality that cannot be logically explained or analyzed.

As for the language barriers, my mother speaks French with a very different accent than what I am use to, an accent that many older Senegalese speak with. It has an odd cadence to it, which will squish together words that shouldn’t normally be sped through. It’s difficult to understand and while I am slowly adapting to it, it’s still frustrating. My brother, who is closest to my age at 18, mumbles his French and my little sister whispers hers. All in all, it makes for frustrating exchanges, especially coupled with my horrible comprehension skills. After my mother will rush or my brother will mumble or my sister will whisper, I ask them to repeat what they said and am told that I understand nothing in French. As this is incredibly impolite and discouraging in America, I instinctively get defensive and upset. But the people here are direct and don’t mean it to hurt my feelings. I have turned it into a joke and will laugh at the situation with them. Then, with my brother who is learning English, I will demonstrate why I am having problems with the way he speaks French by mimicking his mumbling in English. I also like to slip in that all of my classes are in French and that I understand almost everything my professors say, so I can’t be the only problem.

Yes, all of my classes are in French. Our first week in Senegal, orientation week, we had to take a French test to place into a French level. I was nervous because I wanted to take one particular class that’s only taught in French, but I would not be able to if I did not test into a high enough French class, a task I had my doubts about accomplishing. I was pleasantly surprised when I tested into Advanced French, the level I needed to take all of my classes in French. But inherent within that success is another problem: All of my classes will be in French! For someone whose comprehension skills are her worst area of French, this was a huge challenge. I have to admit, the first few days were hard. I understood more than I expected but less than I should have. After three weeks of classes, I have vastly improved in understanding my professors, but I still don’t think I am where I should be. I definitely do not understand everything they say. But in most of my classes it doesn’t cause a problem because the professors write everything important on the board. Or I just Wikipedia what we covered in class 

I am taking Advanced French I, Wolof, History of Islam in Senegal, Crisis Management and International Law in Africa, a Seminar on Living and Learning in Dakar – my only English class, and Society and Culture in Senegal. The French class is mainly review. Wolof is hard, but I am slowly learning it. It’s interesting to learn another language in a language you are not fluent in; it’s less difficult than I expected. When I first saw the list of possible courses we could take I immediately wrote off History of Islam. Why would I want to take a course only specific to Senegal? However, after being here for a couple of days, I recognized the influence of Islam in Senegal and realized I would miss out on part of the culture without this knowledge. My Crisis Management class was the class I was most excited about. It has been my biggest disappointment. However, I decided to stick out the bad teaching for the little knowledge I would receive and the final paper. For our final we have to write a 15 page paper in French on a conflict in Africa. You should have heard the gasps in the classroom when our prof told us this news. 15 pages! In French! The most I have ever written in French is 3 pages. After my blood pressure lowered and the shock wore off, I realized 1) how much this would push my French; 2) how good this would be for me for learning about a conflict; and 3) how good this will look on a resume. Now I’m actually excited to do this. I can’t even imagine the victorious feeling I will have when I turn that paper in. And it’s a paper my Dad can’t nitpick over for once! That’s a victory right there. The seminar class was optional but it’s just a class where we talk about bridging cultures and living in a culture outside of your own. We get to talk about our feelings and do fun assignments. In Society and Culture we have guest lecturers come in and talk about different aspects of Senegalese society. Last week we had a Muslim religious leader and a Catholic priest come talk to us about interreligious dialogue in Senegal. While it is not perfect, the two religions get along well together here. There is peace between Muslims and Christians and many people celebrate the holidays of both religions, including my family. It’s funny to hear a Muslim say he celebrates Christmas, Easter, and Yom Kippur and that his Christian neighbors fast for Ramadan. You almost never hear of something like that.

Well, there are the basics of my life here. The past few weeks have been hard, especially with my untimely nostalgia for Uganda and Rwanda, but I am slowly getting use to life here and embracing my time in Senegal.

Culture Shock Uggghhhh

Well, I'm back for another semester! New country, new region of Africa, new languages, new perspectives.

I have been in Senegal for three weeks. I haven't blogged much because I have spent these past three weeks trying to get to know Senegal before I let my first reactions color my accounts. I didn't react to Senegal negatively, per se, when I arrived. I just became so overwhelmed with all the different sights and sounds that appeared nothing like anything else I had witnessed before, that I shut down a little. I even had the stereotypical study abroad moment of "what have I gotten myself into." Twice: my first day in Senegal and my first day in my only French and Wolof speaking family.

While I don't feel at ease in my surroundings yet, Senegal is slowly steeping into my subconscious without my mind blocking the sensation overload. I have definitely had a harder time assimilating into this culture more than I did in Uganda and Rwanda. But I am open to liking Senegal and feel that, once I shake the remnants of last semester and once I get to know my way around Dakar, I will flourish here.

So that's where I am currently at: confused, out of place, and in general culture shock. But my experience will be a result of what I put into it - and I am ready to put in the energy for a great semester!