you are even uglier than president wade

I'm getting closer and closer to my Senegalese family and trust them and enjoy their company very much. I only have one week left of my "sit in your village and learn language and don't do any serious work phase", which is a relief, because it's very hard to wake up every morning and and have to plan the entire day, for é and a half months, in a place where there is nothing but houses and countryside. As Americans, we would go to the gym, to class, meet with friends,or to buy something from the store when we have free time. Thats not really possible in my village. So, after being very proactive and introducing myself to most everybody in the village for the first month at site, for the second month I spent a lot of time just walking out on the paths into the fields and enjoying the sight of the thick thorny baobab's and the white cranes on the lily pads, and the far out gardens with palm and banana and orange trees that look like an oasis after walking through the sandy paths flanked by dried millet stalks.

I have gotten a Seereer tutor in the closest town, he teaches at the french school, so we can communicate really well, and it's nice to interact with someone who has been to univesity. He tells me traditional stories, translates the meanings of songs and proverbs for me, and teaches me seereer games. There is this one game thats sort of like telling riddles, because there is a set call and response, "Ma saloum al saloum" and everyone says "Gang" and then is quiet because they know an elder is about to deliver some wisdom. One of the ones I like is " if you go down one path, you will come back on the same".
Seereer words continue to amuse me, like the word for "dirty post-washing laundy water" and the other word for "chubby baby cheeks". My sisters ask me how to say chubby baby cheeks in English and I have to tell them there is no one word for it, they are a little confused afterwards.

And now, wierdly and unexpectedly enough, Ive started to enjoy how every single man under 30 years old will say when they first meet you "do you love me? I want to marry you", because I realize now it's really just a test to see how witty and crushing you can be in your refusal. THey do it to SEnegalese women all the time, too. I'm running out of responses that are humiliating, I usually say " I already have 4 husbands"; "I dont cook or clean, youd have to"; "I dont want you!" ; "I have no time"; "I work too much"; "I have a husband in the states."..and so on. I need to start saying, "you are too ugly for me." Which I hear they think is very funny. Anyone have other suggestions?

This is a strange sexually repressed country where women cant show their legs in daily wear but where all popular dancing in music videos involves lots of gyrating and straddling and pulling up your skirt and you name it. And where market vendors everywhere, even ones that stroll through my village and sell directly door to door to compound, unashamedly selling items called bin bins and petit panyas. If I havent yet explained these two items, it's because i previously had a modesty that's been now corrupted by the overabundance and normality of these two things here. Bin bins are beads that go around your belly, and a petit panya is a skirt full of holes that women wear to excite their husbands, particularly by wearing nothing but hte skirt and the beads and bending over to light incense right in front of their reclining husbands. I've been told thats how its done. They all, even little girls wear bin bins and constantly tease eachother about being able to hear them when they walk.



Yeah so work.... I'm trying hard not to get discouraged, and continuosly hope that soon I will do some meaningful work with people. Now I will have to wait until March when I come back to the village after training to start any projects. It's difficult, because often people express interest in literacy or English or French classes, and Id love to teach them, but they might forget about that interest the next day. When I try to ask them what time of day might be good, I get vague answers. The same is true with this wood-conserving mud stove project I'm trying to kick off. I got one built, and its working. So, as my Dad said, maybe the word will spread to other women in the village and they'll get serious about making one with me.