Field Work #3

Who knew that drinking free champagne could be considered research?

I feel like I'm a covert agent, infiltrating the inner circles of the Senegalese elite.

Field Work #2

One of my informants called me last night and asked if I would like to go out to dinner with her and some friends. I interviewed B last week and she has 4 cellphones. Yes. 4 different cellphones. So of course I take her up on her offer and she says she'll pick me up at 8.

As I'm waiting in front of my apartment, a shiny silver car pulls up. There's a white guy in the driver's seat and B is sitting shot gun. I get in and then we're off! Racing around Dakar, up and back around the Corniche, the highway along the coast. I felt like we were going at hyper-speed, I couldn't even lean forward in the seat. Finally we pull in front of a restaurant at Plage de Ngor, in the really nice, toursity area of Dakar. We meet up with 3 other white guys, all older, all on the larger side. B starts saying something about them being rich...as if I hadn't guessed all ready.

We sit down and I look at the menu. Grapefruit and avocado or warm goat cheese salad? Or perhaps the seafood platter? Looks like everyone is ordering appetizers so I get the warm goat cheese and order a tuna steak with veggies for an entrée. The guy sitting to my right is from Spain and is here in Dakar for business, something about engineering. He actually speaks a bit of English and is telling me about his upcoming road trip across America. He's even read Jack Keroac in Spanish.

After some mango sorbet, we leave the restaurant to go to some bars downtown. B pulls me aside and says, "So my patron thinks you're cute. And you know what? He's really rich. He has a boat. And, he doesn't have a wife or a girlfriend. I PROMISE you."
huh?
wait...seriously?
and which one is the patron?

Well, I found out that answer soon enough when I was ushered into the front seat of a flashy new BMW SUV, next to one of our larger dining partners. Then I started laughing to myself...this is exactly what I've been researching! Relationships between older, wealthy white men and cute, young university students. I'm definitely clocking these hours as participant observation.

Soon we're driving around parts of Dakar that I've never seen before. There's no garbage along the roads, no sheep tied up outside of the houses...am I really in Senegal?

As we're driving, I can start to understand why this guy doesn't have a girlfriend. He is incredibly immature! He's playing these toilet-humor songs that yea, could be funny but just make him look incredibly stupid. When we get to the bar, B pulls me aside again.

"So, do you like him? Do you think he's handsome?"

How do I do this tactfully...

"No."

Maybe I should be a little nicer...he did after all just pay for my dinner that probably cost $30.

"He's um...kind. Er, but not my...type."

"Ah," she nodded, "Quel dommage!"

She then tells me how it's hard for him to get a girlfriend because girls only want to be with him because he's rich. He now is looking for a serious relationship.
Ok B, time to stop playing match-maker with the little innocent american.

But I do have to thank her for getting me inside that magical world of Thiofs and Disquettes that I've only heard rumors about...

My fieldwork is pretty cool.

Field Work

Here's a taste of what a day of fieldwork is like for me.

Get woken up by my roommate Robin at 10:30, flip out because I my cellphone alarm was supposed to wake me up at 8. Get a call from my informant P, who I met last week when out to lunch with my advisor at Le Missisipi (note the one 'p'). P asks when I want to meet her and I say noon, and she asks me what I would like to eat for lunch and we decide on yassa. We hang up and I realize I haven't finished writing up my interview questions yet, so I start doing that.

A little before noon I leave the house, and call P to tell her I'll be late. I walk towards Le Missispi, which I've only been to that one time so I only have a vague memory of how to get there. After 15 minutes of walking I have no idea where I am so I call my advisor. He doesn't pick up. But then I turn a corner and magically appear at the restaurant, and who should be there...but my advisor. I ask him if he's seen P, but he says he hasn't and orders me a Grand Moyen Flag beer. I call P and find out I wasn't supposed to go the restaurant, but to her house. She tells me to wait and that she'll come pick me up. My advisor starts asking me how I like his book so far, especially the main character Lily Loveless (what a name) who is also a white girl doing field research in West Africa. 20 minutes or so later, P finally arrives and I take my last sip of beer (the only thing I've had all morning since I thought I would be eating lunch at 12) and we start walking to her house.

When we get to her house, she insists that I sit down while she runs around helping her mom and her aunt prepare lunch. She tells me lunch will actually be at 4PM, and I start thinking about how I was supposed to call someone else to schedule some more interviews for the day...but I guess it will have to wait till tomorrow or next week. After a breakfast of bread, cheese and hot milk, she shows me her photo album. I comment on her beautiful festival clothing and then all of a sudden we're playing dress up. Me and P are almost the same size, and she insists that I take everything back to the US as a "cadeaux" (present). We also decide that we're going to make me the same outfit she has for Tabaski, the biggest Muslim holiday that will be around the 8 of december. I realize I now have about 6 different invitations to Tabaski.

P then brings out a huge pitcher of bissap, one of my favorite Senegalese drinks. She had remembered that the last time I was at le Mississipi I ordered it so she decided to make it for me. Those Senegalese sure know how to be generous, but sometimes it becomes too much. I started to try and figure out how to tactfully say no after my third and a half glass, knowing I still had lunch. And it was a good thing I stopped then, because lunch was fabulous, and in true Senegalese style I was expected to eat A LOT.

"Lekk bubax! Mange bien!"

They had prepared a Jola dish, with yellow rice, braised fish, okra, shrimp, and green bissap. I don't think that description does it justice. It has to be one of the best Senegalese dishes I have ever eaten. It was almost easy to keep eating because it was so good. But I still had to say "sur-na" (I'm full) at least six times before P believed me and let me wash my hands. At that my point we were so full that the only thing to do was talk and then fall asleep.

By now I had been at her house about 5 hours and I started to realize that she didn't understand that I was going to interview her. So I had now gone from the possibility of having about 5 interviews today to having none...or maybe one. After we wake up I casually try and suggest that we start this interview thing, and by this point we're really chill so she lets me ask her about thirty or so questions about cellphones and girls. Of course, the electricity isn't working so we end up finishing the interview by cellphone light. And then I can't leave immediately afterwards, because that would be rude. So I hang out with her, her mother and aunts for another hour or so where they quiz me on my wolof and ask me about life in the states. Then around 9PM I finally convince them that I should leave, even though I really don't want to and yes I'll come back and visit and of course I'll be there for tabaski.

So although I only ended up with one interview today, it was well worth it.

it also makes me think how I sometimes need to stop continuously thinking about this project and just enjoy the rest of my time in Senegal...considering how quickly it's passing by now.

ISP time, oh my

So somehow I've completed my first week of ISP...
I feel a little stuck.
The past week I did a lot of background, literary research which is something I feel very comfortable with. Now I have to do something called "field work". I've heard a lot about it, but have never really done it. Ok, so maybe we had some small projects this semester where we were supposed to experiment with different field research methodologies...but this on such a larger scale.

I guess this is when I go running off to my adviser...

Oh! I failed to mention what I'm actually doing for my project. I'm studying youth cell phone culture (possibly focusing on girls? I switch back and forth...) and looking at how they appropriate and view phones says something about their values and desires.
Basically I just stare at people all day and see if they're carrying a phone, and how, what they're wearing, where they are...Or I interview my cousin, or guys I meet at concerts.

I realized that one of my big problems is that I don't know any Senegalese girls, except for my host sister. Who I wanted to talk to yesterday, but she was getting her hair tressed. So I've had to go through my guy friends and ask them if they have any girl friends...which is hopefully what's going to work out. Or I go walk around Université Cheik Anta Diop and try to make friends.

Truthfully, Senegalese girls intimidate me. They walk around in these stylish clothes like they just finished filming a T-Pain music video. Their hair and make-up is always impeccable. I on the other hand, am doing a good job of playing the dirty american hippy. It's not that I like this style...it just happens to be my travel wardrobe and my ability to not stay clean for more than 5 minutes. Trust me, if you came here and saw all this sand and garbage you would understand. Plus, it's hot. I sweat.
So somehow these Senegalese girls have their tricks and can wear cute jeans on an 85 degree day. Oh, and wear heels as their walking in trash and sand dunes.

What would you think if you were a stylin Senegalese girl and some weird, sans-make-up, long skirt wearing american came up to you and was like, "Hey, can I ask you about your cell phone?"

hm.

well, maybe that's just what I have to do. I just need a little more self-confidence.
Because I only have this week and next week to do all my field research and ohmygod that is nothing.

And do you know what else is crazy? Apparently I'm leaving in less than a month.

New Beginnings

Telling your homestay family you are going to leave is a bit like breaking up with a significant other.

At first you feel completely liberated, excited to be free and independent again. Then doubt starts to set in...was it the right decision? You did have some really great times together, and their not terrible people. Of course, their all confused and don't understand why you're leaving them. They get angry and say hurtful things or beg you to change your mind. You get sad and scared, wondering what the world will be like without them there all the time.

But then you move into that hot little rooftop apartement and all those feelings of fear and regret disappear.

I will have to get used to the smell of sheep though...

Keeeeeedougou

Alright kids, I'm going to tell you about a magical place called Kedougou.

It's down in the southeast corner of Senegal, right by the borders of Guinea and Mali. The land rolls and rises instead of just lying flat. There are beautiful, beautiful forests. and people. Beautiful, beautiful Pulaar people who speaking beautiful peul words.

We stayed for the first few days in air conditioned huts at the Hotel Nierko. Our first day we hiked up to a Bedik village, Etchwar, on top of a mountain (or hill rather). Unfortunately, most of the people were out working in the fields so we didn't get to see much. But it was fun scrambling on the rocks and the view of the land was pretty incredible. Then the next day we got to go on a 2 1/2 hour kat-kat (4x4) ride to the Guinean border, where we went on another hike to one of the only waterfalls in all of Senegal. Cascade raffet na! And we got to go swimming, so that was a plus.

The next three days I spent in a Peul Fouta village called Sinthourougi, about 3KM outside of Kedougou. But you almost wouldn't have known we were so close since we had no electricity or running water and well, I felt like I was in the senegalese version of the shire. We lived with the village chief, Lamine Sow. He's been the chief since the 1970s and has 2 wives and a mistress he keeps in Kedougou. His wife Djeneba was the one whose compound we stayed in, and she has 10 sons. WOW. It was really great to hang out with so many guys, who all spoke Peul, French and some spoke Wolof. There was a wife who was about our age, but she only spoke Peul. But we smiled a lot and I said "walé jamn" (hello!). I actually compiled a little Peul/Français dictionary with help of my brothers.

Some other things we did were play football everynight, eat couscous for almost every meal, drink tea every other second, go on adventures to the Gambian river, startgaze, roast corn and get marriage proposals- including one from my host dad. Ladies- if you're having trouble in love, come to Senegal.

But the best part of had to be the Cow Party. The Cow Party (Fête des Vaches) happens 3 times a year during the wintery time. So we were lucky to get to see and help out. Let me say, the Pulaar LOVE their cows. They don't eat them, they use them for milk and also forms of banking. So they like to take really good care of them, which is the point of the cow party.
We (me and Jamie) followed our brothers out into the brush, till we got to a clearing where some guys were starting to fill a basin with water and stones. They told us they were going to make something yummy for the cows to eat. We asked what the stones were for and they told us they weren't stones. They brought us over and showed us that they were chopping up termite hills and putting them in the water because the termites were good for the cows.
Meanwhile, other guys were chopping up tree branches and pounding them. They then submerged the branch in the water and extracted the sap. They then poured the sappy water into the basin with the termite-y water and threw some salt in.

Then they told me to get in the water. With the termites. And mix everything up and stick my hands into the gooey mix.

mmmmmm.

It was actually really fun, though the sap did feel like mucus.

Then there was a mini version of the running of the bulls and the little boys ran in with the entire herd, shaking their twigs and slapping them on the butts. Jamie wanted to try, but she ended up just sort of tapping them like she was going to turn them into a pumpkin.

For lunch we ended up having couscous with lots of lait caillé (sour milk, like yogurt) that was the cow's "present" to us.

Overall I really liked this village stay, even more than my first. I had amazing conversations with my family that opened my eyes to how life is like for most people in Senegal and gave me a new perspective on the country.

The week finished up with another intense hike to Iwol, another Bedik village and walking to a club two miles away from our hotel to go dancing on Halloween. Yea, all around a good time.

So now I'm back in Dakar, trying to figure out where if I'm going to stay with my homestay family or not... at least I finally know my ISP topic.

Yes We Can

I cannot believe this week.

On Saturday, came back from an incredible week in Kedougou, an experience that I'll have to discuss in another post. I don't want you to have to read too much at once.

On Sunday, celebrated (finally) my 20th birthday! My host sister Bineta brought me breakfast in bead, complete with giant jar of nutella. Then I went over to my friend Robin's house to make some blueberry pancakes with mix she brought from the states. We had to improvise a little, considering they don't have measuring cups or anything but boy it didn't matter. They were deeeeeelicious. And what a coincidence! My dear father whose birthday I share asked my mom to make blueberry pancakes for his special day. So although my dad and I were half a world away on Sunday, we both ate blueberry pancakes on our birthday.
Afterwards, spent most of the day at SIT, like always. But it was great because I got to skype with some really lovely people who I miss a ton. Mommy and Phoebe- I can't even express how happy I was to see your faces! Ah, the wonders of technology.
For my birthday dinner we went to La Fiesta, which despite its name does not serve any spanish or mexican food. But it's all good, because I got some delicious mashed potatoes instead. And a very alcoholic unidentifiable cocktail that the bartender made me when he found out it was mon anniversaire.

Unfortunately, all that partying didn't agree with my body and I felt pretty shitting on monday. I slept during wolof and took a taxi back to my home. I threw up a whole bunch and couldn't eat anything...not to mention the horrendous headache. First I thought it was a hangover, but hangovers don't give you fevers. So my temperature continued to rise and fall throughout the night, causing me to suddenly throw on 5 layers of clothing and later running to the shower. my host cousin Seder was kind enough to make me tea and check on me every couple of hours to make sure I was still alive. It was pretty scary feeling so sick here and realizing how far I am from home, but he took good care of me.

Yesterday, I made it through the day and started to feel better and decided I was well enough to spend the evening at the Club Atlantique where they were having an election party. It was really weird- it looks like pool clubs they have all over the US. They even have a snack bar with grilled cheese sandwiches and frozen snickers! But wow... being abroad during the campaign has been very weird, but enlightening. I mean, I've always known that the US was a "world super power" but I've never seen how much influence we have on others until I came here. Politically and culturally, we really affect the entire world and we have to be responsible about that power.

Anyways...

My thoughts last night were:
fucking a I'm so glad PA was blue, despite all of McCain's shenanigans in Deleware County.
Wow. There is no way McCain is going to win. Now it's only a question of whether Obama is going to break 300.
Waking up around 4:30...WHAT? HE WON VIRGINIA? And their still counting Arizona? eesh.
Obama is going to be our president.
For the first time in my life I'm truly happy to be american.

as I was buying yogurt this morning, the radio in the store was talking about how the youth vote played an important role in the election. I smiled and thought, yea. We did it.