12/29/04
WEDNESDAY
DECEMBER 29, 2004
By the time I woke up Mary had already gone to work. I helped myself to a bowl of cereal before starting my only goal for the day, to find Peace Corps volunteers. This was primarily for Dave so we could have some Americans to hang out with for New Year’s. Before leaving Banjul I printed out a map of Dakar from the University of Texas map library. Their library is pretty good! In fact, it is the only one I could find that had a map of Kombo, in The Gambia (although it was labeled Banjul). The map they had for Dakar had the Embassy labeled and also the PC office. It was about a mile away. I started walking. It turned out I passed it twice without realizing it.
After an hour or so of searching I started to ask some guards and police officers. Eventually I was led to some military office. At the entrance an officer exited and everyone saluted. He saw me among his men and asked, in English, if I needed help finding something. I explained I was trying to go to “Peace Corps”. He didn’t understand that, so I said the equivalent in French, which I learned while traveling to Guinea, “corps de paix”. He smiled an acknowledgement and told me to get in his car. Nice! A free ride! After driving a few blocks we reached a corner I was at beforehand and he showed me where the office was. In The Gambia there is no possible way to miss the PC office. It’s huge, white, gated, and stands out. In Dakar it’s an old building, brick, no doors except for one, and no letters announcing it is PC except for a small logo on the door. I thanked the officer and got out. Kiddy-corner across the street was a huge mosque that would become my landmark if I ever needed to find the office again. The mosque towered over the neighboring buildings and could easily be seen a few blocks away if need be.
To enter the PC office one must enter through the only door in the corner of the building. It was a metal door with just a small PC logo on it. Inside were a metal detector and three guards discussing some issue. After going through the metal detector without alarm and showing my Peace Corps ID that I was truly a volunteer they gave me a stack of papers to read concerning safety and protocol. I was so used to the Gambian office workers speaking English that it came as a shock that none of them, here in Dakar, spoke English. It wasn’t until after the entire trip was over that I realized how ridiculous a notion that was. It’s a French-speaking country! They had no idea what I was saying and I had no idea what they were saying to me. Nonetheless they gave the safety sheets, writing in English (thankfully). On the last page was a map of central Dakar with an area outlined all in red. This was an area we were discouraged to go as there had been reports of pickpockets in this areas at night. The only problem for me was that Mary lived right at the edge of the red-zone.
As I was signing the papers proving that I read the two papers two Senegalese volunteers came in and walked with me to the entrance of the main building. I was still in the guard station and hadn’t entered the compound yet.
At the office I ran into other volunteers at their computer lab. I asked what they were doing for New Years and they mentioned there was going to be a party at their hostel. My information on how to get there consisted of a phone number and a piece of paper with what to tell the taxi driver, “liberté six terminus de neuf” (with the ‘six’ pronounced like ‘seese’) which I had no idea what that meant. Still being early in the day I tried my luck at finding the hostel on my own. The taxi driver knew the general vicinity, but didn’t know the exact location of the building. We rode around until I saw a Peace Corps logo on the side of a wall, which was actually bigger than the logo that was on the office building. I paid the driver and approached the guard to let me in.
Inside the hostel was a girl sleeping on the couch that I accidentally woke up as I entered. She was also visiting, being Peace Corps volunteer stationed in Guinea. Her parents were flying into town that night so she was killing a few hours by just hanging out at the Hostel. We sat and talked for a bit before we turned our attention to watching a movie.
At lunchtime we walked around the corner to a small burger place that was stationed at the intersection of the two roads. There were only enough seats for maybe ten people for the entire place. It reminded me of small burger joints in NYC. She had to order for me since I didn’t know a single word in French other than what Mary taught me the night before.
The money situation in Senegal is quite interesting. There are two national languages spoken, although French is the official language. If you say a number in French then that is the price. However, for Wolof things are a bit more complicated since Wolof is a base-five number system. The number 6, for example, is “jaroom-benna,” which literally translates into “five one,” meaning six. As such, if you say a price in Wolof the actual price is five times as much. This can get quite confusing when you are saying a price in Wolof and they respond in French, for example:
Wolof: “How much?”
French: “1000”
Wolof: “I’ll give you 100”
French: “900”
Wolof: “150”
French: “Make it 800”
Wolof: “Ok, I’ll pay 160.”
The person then pays 160 times 5, or 800 as agreed upon. Not all numbers are easy numbers like those mentioned above. The skill to barter in French and Wolof is such a skill that it requires not only a prefiency in both languages but a quick knack of mental arithmetic. I know of only one person. The rest of us either use our limited French (no arithmetic involved) or write the numbers down in some form. I use a calculator for the added advantage of your able to do simple arithmetic on it that irregardless of language they could follow your mathematical progression.
The currency of Senegal is beautifully colored with different notes having different sizes. The currency of The Gambia is old, ugly, and feels like it’s going to fall apart in your hands. The D100 is the only one worth its weight as it is significantly more colorful than all the other notes combined.
After lunch and with a few more hours to kill we couldn’t decide on what the next movie should be. I tried being completely random about it. We each picked out four possible movies we wouldn’t mind watching and behind my back I scrambled them up separating four in each hand.
“Left or right?”
“Left”
The four on my right were discarded and the other four were split between the hands, two each.
“Left or right?”
“Left”
The right two discarded and the remaining one was brought from the left hand to the right hand, so there is only one in each hand now.
“Left or right?”
“Right this time.”
I held out the movie she had picked: Old School. It’s about three men that are disenchanted with life and try to recapture their college days. In both countries, whether it was Peace Corps Gambia or Peace Corps Guinea, this movie had been played so many times that volunteers quoted the movie in everyday life for a month or so. We had both seen it countless number of times and did not care to watch it again. The whole random assignment was over-thrown to her just picking a movie she would like to see as a favorite. My random experiment failed.
After the second movie I tried walking around the block to get my bearings. Passed a school, children playing, another mosque, different school, different children, … I got lost. How can you possibly get lost going around the block! I tried backtracking and still was lost. I was wondering around aimlessly for twenty minutes until I found the hostel again, this time recognizing the small sandwich shop we went to for lunch. By then it was getting to point of going back so I said goodbye and got a taxi back to Mary’s.
A few minutes after I entered, and while just eating a few snacks Mary came up and asked: “You know how you put your old clothes by the door for washing?”
“Yes”
“That’s where I usually put the trash, so it probably confused her.”
My laundry wasn’t done, but thankfully it wasn’t thrown away either. By first looks of it, it could have been mistaken for trash. I placed the dirty clothes right outside my bedroom door as opposed to near the entrance to the house. In The Gambia the volunteers have what is called the “Free Pile”. Any old clothes that either doesn’t fit or you don’t want any more you just donate to the pile. Every time volunteers come in from upcountry they rummage through the pile looking for “new” clothes. The clothes I laid out to be washed looked worse (just by the dirt) then the clothes in the free pile. It was bad!
Mary’s television was broken. During Christmas she had a few kids playing on the roof, which is a perfect flat top that could act like a roof patio. While playing dodge ball on the roof the ball hit the satellite and broke her cable. As such, no television. Since the TV connection was broken we just watched more movies.
By now you’re probably seeing a trend of watching movies. This is true. Whenever volunteers get in front of a television it’s alway becomes movie marathons. I’ve probably seen more movies in the last two years then in my whole collegiate career. When you’ve done all the exciting stuff in town, especially in Kombo, and have nothing to do but to waste time you watch a movie. The probability that a movie is being watched at the Peace Corps Hostel during the weekend is pretty close to certainty, however that does not mean that the probability that I, or anyone in particular, is watching that movie is high though. I’ve gone months without seeing any television, and then some days all I do is watch movies.
Mary let me check my e-mail again. Received two more messages from Dave, both of them as short as the other before. The first one was actually written the night before: “sitting in avery fisher hall about to see the new york philharmonic. Snowing outside.” I didn’t realize it at the time, but he told me later when he arrived that he was actually sitting in Avery Fisher Hall about to see the New York Philharmonic. I know that’s exactly what the e-mail had said, but I didn’t think he was actually sitting down in the Hall itself. He told he had a few minutes to waste before the show starting. What to do? E-mail Mike! He brought out his cell-phone, capable of trans-continental e-mails and sent me a quick e-mail telling me where he was. Kind of neat!
I clicked on the second e-mail, the last he sent: “on the plane leaving JFK, see ya tomorrow” We’re good to go!
His flight information tells his journey to get to Dakar, along with length of time of trip:
Wed 29 Dec 5:55 PM JFK NYC 7:10 AM Madrid 7h:15m
Thur 30 Dec 5:55 PM Madrid 9:35 PM Dakar 4h:40m
Mon 10 Jan 11:55 PM Dakar 5:05 AM Madrid 4h:10m
Tues 11 Jan 5:00 PM Madrid 7:30 PM JFK NYC 8h:30m
DECEMBER 29, 2004
By the time I woke up Mary had already gone to work. I helped myself to a bowl of cereal before starting my only goal for the day, to find Peace Corps volunteers. This was primarily for Dave so we could have some Americans to hang out with for New Year’s. Before leaving Banjul I printed out a map of Dakar from the University of Texas map library. Their library is pretty good! In fact, it is the only one I could find that had a map of Kombo, in The Gambia (although it was labeled Banjul). The map they had for Dakar had the Embassy labeled and also the PC office. It was about a mile away. I started walking. It turned out I passed it twice without realizing it.
After an hour or so of searching I started to ask some guards and police officers. Eventually I was led to some military office. At the entrance an officer exited and everyone saluted. He saw me among his men and asked, in English, if I needed help finding something. I explained I was trying to go to “Peace Corps”. He didn’t understand that, so I said the equivalent in French, which I learned while traveling to Guinea, “corps de paix”. He smiled an acknowledgement and told me to get in his car. Nice! A free ride! After driving a few blocks we reached a corner I was at beforehand and he showed me where the office was. In The Gambia there is no possible way to miss the PC office. It’s huge, white, gated, and stands out. In Dakar it’s an old building, brick, no doors except for one, and no letters announcing it is PC except for a small logo on the door. I thanked the officer and got out. Kiddy-corner across the street was a huge mosque that would become my landmark if I ever needed to find the office again. The mosque towered over the neighboring buildings and could easily be seen a few blocks away if need be.
To enter the PC office one must enter through the only door in the corner of the building. It was a metal door with just a small PC logo on it. Inside were a metal detector and three guards discussing some issue. After going through the metal detector without alarm and showing my Peace Corps ID that I was truly a volunteer they gave me a stack of papers to read concerning safety and protocol. I was so used to the Gambian office workers speaking English that it came as a shock that none of them, here in Dakar, spoke English. It wasn’t until after the entire trip was over that I realized how ridiculous a notion that was. It’s a French-speaking country! They had no idea what I was saying and I had no idea what they were saying to me. Nonetheless they gave the safety sheets, writing in English (thankfully). On the last page was a map of central Dakar with an area outlined all in red. This was an area we were discouraged to go as there had been reports of pickpockets in this areas at night. The only problem for me was that Mary lived right at the edge of the red-zone.
As I was signing the papers proving that I read the two papers two Senegalese volunteers came in and walked with me to the entrance of the main building. I was still in the guard station and hadn’t entered the compound yet.
At the office I ran into other volunteers at their computer lab. I asked what they were doing for New Years and they mentioned there was going to be a party at their hostel. My information on how to get there consisted of a phone number and a piece of paper with what to tell the taxi driver, “liberté six terminus de neuf” (with the ‘six’ pronounced like ‘seese’) which I had no idea what that meant. Still being early in the day I tried my luck at finding the hostel on my own. The taxi driver knew the general vicinity, but didn’t know the exact location of the building. We rode around until I saw a Peace Corps logo on the side of a wall, which was actually bigger than the logo that was on the office building. I paid the driver and approached the guard to let me in.
Inside the hostel was a girl sleeping on the couch that I accidentally woke up as I entered. She was also visiting, being Peace Corps volunteer stationed in Guinea. Her parents were flying into town that night so she was killing a few hours by just hanging out at the Hostel. We sat and talked for a bit before we turned our attention to watching a movie.
At lunchtime we walked around the corner to a small burger place that was stationed at the intersection of the two roads. There were only enough seats for maybe ten people for the entire place. It reminded me of small burger joints in NYC. She had to order for me since I didn’t know a single word in French other than what Mary taught me the night before.
The money situation in Senegal is quite interesting. There are two national languages spoken, although French is the official language. If you say a number in French then that is the price. However, for Wolof things are a bit more complicated since Wolof is a base-five number system. The number 6, for example, is “jaroom-benna,” which literally translates into “five one,” meaning six. As such, if you say a price in Wolof the actual price is five times as much. This can get quite confusing when you are saying a price in Wolof and they respond in French, for example:
Wolof: “How much?”
French: “1000”
Wolof: “I’ll give you 100”
French: “900”
Wolof: “150”
French: “Make it 800”
Wolof: “Ok, I’ll pay 160.”
The person then pays 160 times 5, or 800 as agreed upon. Not all numbers are easy numbers like those mentioned above. The skill to barter in French and Wolof is such a skill that it requires not only a prefiency in both languages but a quick knack of mental arithmetic. I know of only one person. The rest of us either use our limited French (no arithmetic involved) or write the numbers down in some form. I use a calculator for the added advantage of your able to do simple arithmetic on it that irregardless of language they could follow your mathematical progression.
The currency of Senegal is beautifully colored with different notes having different sizes. The currency of The Gambia is old, ugly, and feels like it’s going to fall apart in your hands. The D100 is the only one worth its weight as it is significantly more colorful than all the other notes combined.
After lunch and with a few more hours to kill we couldn’t decide on what the next movie should be. I tried being completely random about it. We each picked out four possible movies we wouldn’t mind watching and behind my back I scrambled them up separating four in each hand.
“Left or right?”
“Left”
The four on my right were discarded and the other four were split between the hands, two each.
“Left or right?”
“Left”
The right two discarded and the remaining one was brought from the left hand to the right hand, so there is only one in each hand now.
“Left or right?”
“Right this time.”
I held out the movie she had picked: Old School. It’s about three men that are disenchanted with life and try to recapture their college days. In both countries, whether it was Peace Corps Gambia or Peace Corps Guinea, this movie had been played so many times that volunteers quoted the movie in everyday life for a month or so. We had both seen it countless number of times and did not care to watch it again. The whole random assignment was over-thrown to her just picking a movie she would like to see as a favorite. My random experiment failed.
After the second movie I tried walking around the block to get my bearings. Passed a school, children playing, another mosque, different school, different children, … I got lost. How can you possibly get lost going around the block! I tried backtracking and still was lost. I was wondering around aimlessly for twenty minutes until I found the hostel again, this time recognizing the small sandwich shop we went to for lunch. By then it was getting to point of going back so I said goodbye and got a taxi back to Mary’s.
A few minutes after I entered, and while just eating a few snacks Mary came up and asked: “You know how you put your old clothes by the door for washing?”
“Yes”
“That’s where I usually put the trash, so it probably confused her.”
My laundry wasn’t done, but thankfully it wasn’t thrown away either. By first looks of it, it could have been mistaken for trash. I placed the dirty clothes right outside my bedroom door as opposed to near the entrance to the house. In The Gambia the volunteers have what is called the “Free Pile”. Any old clothes that either doesn’t fit or you don’t want any more you just donate to the pile. Every time volunteers come in from upcountry they rummage through the pile looking for “new” clothes. The clothes I laid out to be washed looked worse (just by the dirt) then the clothes in the free pile. It was bad!
Mary’s television was broken. During Christmas she had a few kids playing on the roof, which is a perfect flat top that could act like a roof patio. While playing dodge ball on the roof the ball hit the satellite and broke her cable. As such, no television. Since the TV connection was broken we just watched more movies.
By now you’re probably seeing a trend of watching movies. This is true. Whenever volunteers get in front of a television it’s alway becomes movie marathons. I’ve probably seen more movies in the last two years then in my whole collegiate career. When you’ve done all the exciting stuff in town, especially in Kombo, and have nothing to do but to waste time you watch a movie. The probability that a movie is being watched at the Peace Corps Hostel during the weekend is pretty close to certainty, however that does not mean that the probability that I, or anyone in particular, is watching that movie is high though. I’ve gone months without seeing any television, and then some days all I do is watch movies.
Mary let me check my e-mail again. Received two more messages from Dave, both of them as short as the other before. The first one was actually written the night before: “sitting in avery fisher hall about to see the new york philharmonic. Snowing outside.” I didn’t realize it at the time, but he told me later when he arrived that he was actually sitting in Avery Fisher Hall about to see the New York Philharmonic. I know that’s exactly what the e-mail had said, but I didn’t think he was actually sitting down in the Hall itself. He told he had a few minutes to waste before the show starting. What to do? E-mail Mike! He brought out his cell-phone, capable of trans-continental e-mails and sent me a quick e-mail telling me where he was. Kind of neat!
I clicked on the second e-mail, the last he sent: “on the plane leaving JFK, see ya tomorrow” We’re good to go!
His flight information tells his journey to get to Dakar, along with length of time of trip:
Wed 29 Dec 5:55 PM JFK NYC 7:10 AM Madrid 7h:15m
Thur 30 Dec 5:55 PM Madrid 9:35 PM Dakar 4h:40m
Mon 10 Jan 11:55 PM Dakar 5:05 AM Madrid 4h:10m
Tues 11 Jan 5:00 PM Madrid 7:30 PM JFK NYC 8h:30m
posted by Mike | 5:31 PM
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