This new life of ours can be all consuming. Just trying to get through a conversation in a foreign language can exhaust me mentally some days. I started working part time and that just sucked away the precious free time I had. I think about what I want to tell you and then am overwhelmed at the sheer volume of experiences. Some fascinating, most mundane and all very new.
Keegan in her natural habitat and Rowen being Rowen
Rowen's music class did rock group performances
Amazing how quickly we adapt to our surroundings. Considering the number of twists and turns, ups and downs and loops that we've been through since moving to Dakar, I am stunned out how quickly all the excitement has settled into regular life. The girls go to school, we go to work, watch TV, hang out with friends and try not get run over by taxis. Indeed it's the daily things, with more than a little hint of West Africa, that keep making this life such an adventure.
Rowen's award winning pigeon performance
Driving
Hands down my favorite part of the day is driving! I love the freedom and the exhilaration. It is a live action game of pole position. Lots of swerving, braking and road hazards, usually in the form of street sweepers, horse carts and mystery puddles. Mystery puddles are a special kind fun, the trick is to take a deep breath and hold it before the stench hits you. If you're lucky you won't be driving downwind and will be able to exhale and take a little "test breath" before you pass out.
My friend, Jacques, is terrified to drive with me because he thinks I drive like a man. Our house keeper, Evelyne, saw me driving down the street and was horrified because I drive like a local. She thought I should hire a driver like the other toubabs, before I developed more bad habits. I hated to tell her that most of these habits were already formed before I moved here, it's just now I fit in with everyone else. David has informed me that he will be doing all the driving when we get back to the states, at least until I have remembered how to follow traffic laws again.
Played monkey-in-the-middle with a taxi that slammed on its brakes and a truck behind us that didn't
Children
Somewhere there is a suburban-living, SUV-driving helicopter mom having a panic attack and she has no idea why. The children here have an incredible amount of freedom and independence. I've seen children going to school, hopping on and off the Car Rapides (the colorful chunks of rolling metal, held together with duct tape and baling wire, that toubabs are highly discouraged from riding) with a helpful hand from the other riders. I've seen roving groups of ragged Talibe kids, some as young as 4 and 5 out begging (as part of their "schooling"). Young boys will turn any open field into a soccer pitch and kick around a ball in their bare feet. Kids, so small and skinny that I'd like to hold them down and shove a sandwich down their throats, are laughing and playing, wrestling with each other and watching out for one another. They are the toughest kids I've ever seen. My heart simultaneously breaks and swells when I see them. I refuse to give them money, because it just goes into the hands of the nearest adult. We have taken to keeping bags of hard candy in the car. It's the lousiest compromise ever.
Working at the Embassy
It's still a little strange when I walk into the Embassy. It's like walking into any place of business, except for all the guards and Marines. It's a small community of people that work, eat and play together. It's a fascinating social experiment and a melting pot of political, religious and economic belief systems. It's educational, exhausting and so much fun :)
Nurse and midwives from a local village and playing games with the Marines
Eating
David and I have completely different philosophies on eating. I eat to live and he lives to eat! He loves trying good food and we often are planning our trips around whichever restaurant he wants to eat in. He has some silly notion about "needing different food every day". Now, don't get me wrong I love good food, but at the end of the day, if the choice is between spending 2 hours prepping, cooking and cleaning up a ridiculously huge mess or making a sandwich, I'll take the sandwich every time.
Food in Dakar is an adventure. We can't drink the tap water and all our fruits and veggies have to have a bleach bath. The local diet for cows includes a healthy amount of cardboard. Fortunately, for all of us, Evelyne is a great cook and makes sure I don't do anything stupid, like eat a salad before it's been properly washed. However, the restaurants aren't always as dedicated to my gastrointestinal well being. So eating out can be a crap shoot, if you will ;)
My turn to cook for Evelyne! Dinner with a view :)
I didn't realize that I had really clicked into my new normal until I got back to the states a couple of days ago and was startled at how everything seemed so different. Ordering food was quick and easy and we didn't have to confer to see who's French could best decipher the menu. I drove through an intersection and nobody was inching toward me trying to make their way to the other side. Nobody honked. I was horrified, watching pedestrians walk out into the street without worry. I kept expecting to see someone get run over. Yesterday, I stared at the credit card machine in Target, completely forgetting how to work the stupid thing. I was doing a self checkout and the lady had to keep coming over, looking at me like I'd lost my mind. I feel like a tourist and probably sound like one too, but I'm having a ball rediscovering what makes America so American :)
