The first third of my semester abroad closes as we travel to northern Italy to study the Muridiyya in this country. I notice differences in the two countries and miss things about Senegal that I previously thought to be some of the worst aspects of living in Dakar. Although we’ve only spent a day in Brescia, there are vast differences in temperature, landscape, and architecture. In my homestay in Dakar, my room is situated about 15 feet from a busy street in a neighborhood called Mermoz. The one window in my room is high up and rectangular, and faces the street. The window has white bars and a screen, so I cannot shut out the noise of the street. Some common noises I hear at (any time of) night are: horses, goats, taxis and other cars going by, people singing, car horns and brakes, mopeds, voices, and laughter. Before coming to Senegal, I did not ever use or need earplugs, but they are a genius invention, one that I may not need in Italy. The streets are quiet at night in Brescia.

The buildings all seem to have accent-colored shutters on the windows, which gives off a picturesque country vibe. It’s much colder; about 30 Fahrenheit during the day and half that at night. The mountains all have snow caps and the trees are bare and brown, like claws reaching upwards. Cold temperatures also mean no mosquitoes, thankfully. I started out fine in Dakar; I kept the mosquitoes away by keeping my face and hands covered at night with clothing and bug spray. When we travelled to Touba and Kaolack, which are both inland from Dakar and about 20 degrees hotter during the day, it got much harder to fend them off. I ended up with 7 or 8 bites on each arm, and around 3 on each foot. They bit in odd places too- my elbows, fingers, and neck. The cold will keep me safe from bugs, so I’ll accept the freezing temperatures in Italy. I’ll look for similarities in the people instead, which I can always find, no matter how small.

It seems right now I’m noticing only things which are different, so I’ll start with those. People do not use toilet paper in Senegal. This is not an issue because I can easily buy toilet paper, but now I wonder which families use it and which do not, and why. In general, people use rags or cloths to clean mostly anything; napkins aren’t really used during meals, tissues and other ‘one time use’ paper products are rare. They do not share towels, which I discovered only after my first shower in my homestay. This I understand more as a hygiene issue, and it makes sense that towels wouldn’t be shared, especially not to strangers. So, before my next shower I took a walk to buy a sarbet for 3,000 CFA, which is about $5 USD.

Many people catch taxis to wherever they need to go, not their own cars or public transportation. In San Francisco, I think only people over 55 use taxis, because Uber and Lyft are much more popular for people who have smartphones. It’s much cheaper to take the bus or use Uber/Lyft in California, and this might not be a surprise but Uber and Lyft don’t exist in Dakar. The taxi drivers in Senegal don’t charge by the mile, instead I had to bargain with the driver for a price we both agreed on. Most will accept 2,000 CFA, which is about $4 USD. However, I’ve successfully bargained down to 1,500 CFA a few times. The taxi drivers (and drivers in general) are not good drivers, one even tapped our bumper on the way to school. The driver put his car into park in the middle of traffic, got out to check the back bumper, shook his head and got back in the car. One driver insisted he didn’t have change. Another pretended to drive away when I said I wouldn’t accept a ride for 2,000 CFA, but instead just rolled his car forward a few feet and then stopped again. Honking is common, and many cars have dents and scrapes. Small accidents happen frequently, but people don’t exchange insurance or phone numbers, they just survey the damages and move along their way. Some cars have cracked windshields, others have only one working taillight or headlight, but I’ve yet to see anyone get pulled over for any traffic violation. It’s difficult to speed because people do not use crosswalks. People cross the street whenever they see an opening, even if it means stepping into oncoming traffic.

Some things I recognized in Dakar are clothing brands like Adidas and Gucci (both very popular), car types, and the trade winds, which remind me most of Hawaii. The breeze here is cooling and endless, and the palm trees remind me that I’m not far from the beach. Pretty much anywhere in Hawaii is not far from the beach, so it’s nice to know I can always walk there. On the beach, I can almost always find someone exercising by running up and down the sand or lunging back and forth. There is an Espace Sportif which the Chinese gifted to Dakar. It looks like a giant play structure and is located next to soccer fields in the sand and a trampoline, which people can pay to use for ten minutes at a time (see photos).

I seem to notice more differences than similarities and I know I’ll get used to them as the weeks pass. One day at a time is how I live in Dakar, at least until I can learn enough French to hold a conversation. For now, Google Translate is how I communicate with my home stay aunts, who I ate dinner with for the first time recently.  Still working on retiring my left hand (at least during dinner) so I don’t offend anyone, and am trying not to be rude by not eating the uncooked vegetables because I can’t confirm that they were washed in bleach first. I don’t know if there’s a French word for ‘Clorox’. I also don’t know if I’ll drink any fresh coffee in Dakar, which makes me homesick for the coffee at my parents’ house. I used to hate the sound of my dad grinding coffee at the crack of dawn because it woke me up, but now I miss it because I know it would mean fresh coffee. The Senegalese drink instant coffee (at least in my home stay they do) with no less than a tablespoon of sugar in each cup. No milk, or if there is milk it is powdered milk. Just like the coffee. I miss fresh foods, which is part of the reason I crammed the lettuce and cucumbers into my mouth at dinner.

It’s dusty here, and various pieces of plastic bags, cups, or newspaper blow in the streets or sit in piles along the gutters. Littering is so common that I don’t even think there’s a law against it. I expected there to be more trash along the shore, but the water is surprisingly clear and bright. The sun always shines, but doesn’t cook people quite like it does in Hawaii. It’s warm and pale instead of hot and piercing. It has not rained once, and I don’t expect that it will while I’m here. We’re in the middle of the dry season, which means cooler temperatures and no rain. I appreciate the weather like I appreciate the people in Dakar; it grows more every day. As the people, foods, and weather become more familiar, I can look forward to connecting with people using French and Wolof, which seems to be the mother tongue. French is the label and the surface representation of Senegal, but underneath the tip of the iceberg is Wolof and a host of other dialects and ethnic groups; like Serer, Fula, and Jola. As a student and an observer in Dakar, I’m scratching away at the ice to get underneath the leftover French colonial influences and get to the flesh of the people, which seems to be Wolof culture, among many others.

 

Jummah means Friday, which is the day that Muslims attend Mosque (like Christians attend church on Sundays). The Imam for our sermon travelled from Kansas City to speak at the Mosque that our group visited for Jummah. We entered Mosque without shoes, our heads wrapped in scarves, and our skirts reaching our ankles. We sat behind the men in rows to listen to the Imam before we prayed as a group. I felt bad for falling asleep while he was talking. It was also difficult to sit without crossed legs for 45 minutes. (Crossed legs are considered disrespectful in the Mosque). A point that the Imam made: on the differences between belief and faith. He talked about travelling to make this idea easier to understand, which I related to since we are about to embark on a 3-month journey. The Imam said that people travel always from Point A to Point B, but if Point B is Atlanta, Georgia, people do not stop when they see the sign that says, “Welcome to Atlanta”. They must keep going, because there is a truer destination within those boundaries. Faith is the true destination within Muslim belief, and although I have no religious upbringing, perhaps this idea can translate to Christianity and other religions. The differences between faith and belief are still blurry to me, as they seem to have very similar definitions. I think that visiting Touba, Senegal will help me to make further distinctions. Touba is the holy city in Senegal, a place where Muslim faith is taken more seriously and the Qur’an is followed more strictly. Women cannot enter certain spaces and some men will not shake women’s hands. I’ve never experienced sexism like how it has been described in Touba. Senegal will give me both negative and positive experiences and there will be times when I will want to be back in my city by the Bay, in the arms of the people I love instead of in a foreign place across the world, but I’m here to embrace being uncomfortable with new people in new places. I’m here to push myself mentally and grow further into myself as a woman in the world.

Here I Am! In Atlanta, Georgia. In a week, Atlanta has given me lots of new experiences. A Snow Day, the CNN Headquarters, and getting to see and study at Morehouse College. I have never been excused from school because of inclement weather in the form of snow. I’ve dealt with Tsunami threats (which people do not take too seriously in the islands where I’m from), storms, flooding, and the Sonoma County fires in California. Although my school (University of San Francisco) was not burned in the fires, the air quality became terrible and every morning when I woke up, I could smell smoke in the air. The smell of smoke reminded me of barbecues that people have on the beach in Hawaii, but the fires also resulted in school cancellations across the Bay. While it doesn’t snow in San Francisco, it definitely doesn’t snow on O’ahu. I spent the Snow Day by eating at Waffle House for the first time (I don’t know if these exist in California, but they certainly don’t have Waffle Houses in Hawaii). I enjoy breakfast food, so Waffle House gets a 10/10. I went there with some of my program cohorts, which I’m slowly feeling more comfortable around. I’m happy and surprised to have found such supportive and hilarious friends here. I didn’t think I would find friendships this easily or quickly, but there is respect and an effort is made to understand one another. I’m normally introverted and shy but once I feel comfortable, I’m more open and I can focus on engaging the people around me. I gain more and more appreciation for the people in my program every day. We are 13 brave and caring young adults making our way through the world and guided by our own hearts. I’m proud to call these 12 my friends and family for the next 3 months, and honored to travel with them.