Visit to a Daara

Yesterday, my Education and Culture class visited a daara in Pikine, a banlieu (suburb) of Dakar. Unlike the suburbs in the United States, the banlieus are really poor. They are the poorest areas of the city. We took cabs from our university to Pikine and then stopped at our professor's house. Professor Kane lives in one of the nicest homes in the entire banlieu. Then, we walked to the daara, which was located onthe other side of the train tracks. Daaras are koranic schools, where boys ages 5 to 20 are taught the Koran by marabouts (religious leaders). This was definitely one of the most interesting and saddening experiences I have had in Senegal.

The way that most of the schools are run, is that the kids all live there and only see their parents during Muslim religious holidays. At this particular daara, most of the kids come from the Touba region. This is a religious center for Mouride Muslims. They wake up in the morning and study koran until lunch time. This means memorizing passages in Arabic, even though they only speak Wolof. None of these kids, or even the marabout, spoke French. Therefore, most of the kids couldn't tell you what the passages that they recite mean. As they get older, the marabout and other students will help translate the Arabic into Wolof, so they can have some idea of what they are saying.

In the afternoon, the talibe (which means religious students) are sent out onto the streets of Pikine to beg for food and money. The marabout makes most of his money this way. The kids' parents don't pay for them to attend school, so begging allows the marabout to run the daara. Also, his adult followers will give him whatever money they can afford. Any marabout, or really any Senegalese person, will tell you that the purpose of begging is to teach the talibe to be humble. Humility is a very important part of Islam. However, in my opinion and in the opinion of most other Muslim countries, there are many better ways to teach kids to be humble. Really, I see begging as a way for marabouts to exploit their students and earn a living.

During our visit, we got to sit down with the marabout and ask questions, which our professor translated into Wolof. Many of the questions that people asked didn't provide us with any inight into this system, but it was interesting to see how he answered. For example, when we asked what most of the kids do when they leave the daara, he told us that many students end up working the United States. Really? These kids who cannot speak any language other than Wolof, have never been to regular school, and can't even write their names manage to acquire gainful employment in the United States? I don't think so. These kids have never learned math, history, science, or French. All they know is the Koran.

The saddest part of the whole visit was when the subject of beating the tablibe came up. This particular daara is well-known because a few years ago, the old marabout beat a child so badly that he died. When word got out, that marabout fled to Touba and has been there ever since. However, when we asked the current marabout if he beats children, he said yes without any hesitation. He told us that he has a cane that he uses if the children are misbehaving. He explained that beating is a necessary part of learning, and that if he didn't beat kids they would never learn the Koran. Even the public schools here still use corporal punishment. I don't know about all of you, but I was never beaten by my teachers, and I think I have done pretty well as far as education is concerned.

Recently, Senegal has come under international scrutiny because of the mistreatment of talibe by marabouts. Many talibe are beaten if they don't bring in enough money everyday while begging. Human Rights Watch recently did a report on this phenomenon, urging the Senegalese to do something for the 50,000 talibe in the country. The problem is the amount of power that is held by these marabouts. They are extremely influential politically, so the government is really afraid to take them on. If you're interested, the NY Times recently did a story on this problem that can be found here: http://www.nytimes.com/reuters/2010/04/15/world/international-us-senegal-streetchildren.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=Senegal%20talibe&st=cse

I Am Worth Four Cows: A Week in Salamata

I spent this past week exploring rural Senegal. It was our rural visit week, where each CIEE student is placed with either a Peace Corps volunteer (PCV), and NGO, or a host family in rural parts of Senegal all around the country. I was placed with a PCV named Jason Haack, whose site is about 18km outside of the town of Kolda. Kolda is located in southern Senegal, in the Haute Cassamance. The specific village that we were in is called Salamata, and about 750 people live there.

Liz, one of my friends who also lives in Sacre Coeur 3, was placed with me. We left the neighborhood around 7 am on Sunday to go to the Garage Pompier and grab a sept-place down to Kolda. We were told that it would be no problem to get a sept-place anytime on Sunday and that the trip would only take about 6 hours. Neither of those things were true. When we got to the garage, we were informed that there were no sept-places going to Kolda that day, but we could take a bus. Now, the way public transportation works here in Senegal is that you have to wait for the entire bus to fill up before they will leave. Liz and I knew this could take a while, but we only anticipated waiting a few hours. Instead, we didn't leave the garage until 4:30pm! In order to get to Kolda, you have to go through The Gambia. The ferry in The Gambia stops running at 8pm, and we knew there was no way we were going to get there in time, so we called Jason. He hooked us up with some of his Peace Corps friends in Kaolack, about 3.5 hours outside of Dakar, who let us sleep at the Kaolack regional house. We arrived exhausted and dirty, to find cheeseburgers and American movies.

After a lovely night sleeping on the roof under a mosquito net, we grabbed a sept-place to Kolda and left around 8am. We got into Kolda in the early afternoon and Jason met us at the garage with David, another PCV. We went back to the Kolda regional house, where we spent the night. Liz and I were absolutely filthy from our trip. Since it's so dusty and so hot out, we were covered in dirt and sweat. So, after we met everyone at the Peace Corps house, we took long showers to get rid of all the dirt.

Jason convinced us to stay at the regional house Monday night with promises of fried chicken. Martin, another PCV, is an amazing cook, even if he is really socially awkward, and he made fried chicken and macaroni and cheese for us! We spent the night hanging out with the PCVs, talking about why they joined the Peace Corps and what their experiences had been like so far. I had a long conversation with David about what types of people are happiest in the Peace Corps. Basically, he said that people who come in with no expectations tend to enjoy the Peace Corps the most. If you come in expecting to do a very specific type of project and accomplish very specific goals, you are likely to be let down. Jason seemed to agree. When he reached his site 8 months ago, he met with the village elders to determine what they needed from him. He didn't go in with a preconceived notion of what he would be doing.

The next morning, we woke up early and took a taxi out to the village. Salamata is beautiful. There are woods and palm trees, animals everywhere, and the people are very friendly. Everyone in this area of Senegal speaks the Fulakunda dialect of Pular. Very few of them speak fluent Wolof, and even less speak fluent French. This made communicating very difficult. Luckily, we had Jason, who speaks pretty decent Pular, We pretty much only learned some basic greetings. It's really interesting how different Pular and Wolof are. Wolof is a really harsh language, while Pular is very sing-songy.

The four days we spent in the village were awesome. We met Jason's host family and stayed in his hut in their compound. There was no electricity or running water, but there was a well in the compound so we could take outdoor bucket showers. We got to explore neighboring villages, including Martin's village. We also went to see the women's garden in the village. This was worked on by Danny, the PCV who was in Salamata before Jason. He wrote the grant for it and helped the women set it up so that they could have some form of income and have better nutrition in the village. When we went down, the women asked Jason if he would buy them barbed wire to keep out the monkeys who eat their crops. However, one of the stipulations of the grant for the women's garden was that the women were responsible for its upkeep by saving some of the money they make off selling their crops. Jason did his best to explain this, and asked them to collect money from each woman so that he could go into town and get the barbed wire.

It was exceptionally hot in Salamata. I think it was over 120 degress everyday we were in the village. I don't think I have ever been as hot as I was while in the Kolda region. My daily outdoor bucket shower was fantastic. Also, because it's so hot this time of year, people don't really do much during the afternoon. So, everyday after lunch turned into nap time. Sometimes we would lay down under the mango tree, other times we would sleep in the hut.

On our last day in Salamata, we went on a death march through three or four villages instead of napping. We started off the day by walking to Sare Sarah (Martin's village), which is about 2 km from Salamata. Then we hitch-hiked to another village in search of palm wine. The two guys who collect palm wine in that village weren't in, so we ate lunch and started walking to a village that has electricity and, therefore, cold drinks. Once there, we bought some soda and bouy (baobab fruit juice) and sat in front of some government building to enjoy the cold. When we finished, it was off to yet another village in search of a man named Kobe who was rumored to have palm wine in his possesion.

When we finally arrived at Kobe's house, he was taking a bath. So, we sat in his beautiful garden until he finished. Then, he grabbed his gear for climbing and tapping palm trees, and we walked out into the woods. We sat down in a little grove of trees while Kobe climbed up on of these huge palm trees and tapped some palm wine for us. This was the second time I had tried palm wine. The first was in The Gambia, and I really didn't like it. The smell is really rancid and strong. But, this time I actually really enjoyed it. We sat in a circle taking turns drinking out of a calabash. It was lovely. Once we had finished, we hitch-hiked another ride back to the village.

One of the most interesting things about the village were the gender dynamics. Overall, men and women's lives are very seperate and different. In the village, the men build huts and do maitenance around the village, while the women spend all day cooking and pulling water from the well. The women get up in the morning and start grinding peanuts and corn. They do all the cooking and cleaning. It seems that the men only really work when there is something very specific to do. For example, the one time I saw the men working was when they were building a new hut for Jason's host brother, Ousmane. Interestingly, the village was the first time I saw fathers playing and interacting with their young children.

Overall, I really loved my week in the village. We met amazing people and had a lot of fun. Of course, it was also really interesting to see how so much of Senegal lives. Mostly, I really enjoyed talking with PCVs about their projects and their experiences with the Peace Corps. It was really eye-opening and they each had a story to tell about how they ended up in the Peace Corps and what they thought of the entire process.

La Jour de l'Independence

Sunday, April 4th (Easter Sunday) was the 50th anniversary of Senegalese independence from France. Naturally, the entire weekend was one big celebration. Saturday was the inauguration of La Monument de la Renaissance Africaine. This is a giant statue that can be seen from most places in Dakar. I have a perfect view of it from my roof, even though I live really far away from it. This statue has been really controversial. First, it is meant to represent Senegal and Africa. This is problematic because it depicts a man, woman, and child who are not wearing very much clothing. This has been really upsetting to the mostly Muslim population in Senegal. People here dress cery conservatively. Girls generally wear floor length skirts and dresses, and certainly nothing that is cut above the knee. Another point of outrage with this monument is the insanely high cost to build it. President Abdoulaye Wade spent billions of dollars building this huge, unsightly statue, when roads need to be fixed, schools need more funding, and people need to be fed. It would be one thing if the billions of dollars went to Senegalese workers, since there is a severe job shortage in this country. However, the money mostly went to North Koreans, who engineered and built the statue. Also, Wade is collecting a percentage of any money made by the statue for himself, claiming that he designed it.

So, due to the serious controversy surrounding the statue, I was shocked to see so many people out in support of its inauguration. The streets and hills around the statue were packed! Roads were blocked off so that hoards of people dressed in outfits made of this ridiculous fabric with Wade's face and pictures of the statue all over it could gather to watch the speeches. People were wearing t-shirts commemorating the event, and important leaders from all over the world, including Jesse Jackson, were in attendance. I sat up on a hill with two of my friends, next to a beautiful baobab tree, and just watched. I couldn't comprehend how so many people were happy about this statue. In the days leading up to the event, I talked with taxi drivers, my family, students, and random people on the street about their thoughts on the statue. Not one of them supported it. Later, I found out that many of the people who were out cheering for the statue had been paid to be there.

After a few hours of madness, I headed home to get ready for the evening. That night, there was an Independence Day party in Ouakam, one the neighborhoods in Dakar. There was lots of dancing, and most people from school were there. The whole night was a lot of fun until, at about 5 am, a man came up to my friend Jenna and me and started yelling at us in English. He was chastizing us for being white people in Africa, repeatedly telling is how ugly we were because we were white and that we were only in Senegal to find black men. This is not a sentiment that I have often encountered here. Most men respond very positively to white women, telling us how badly they want a white wife. I was so upset by this man, who I had never met before, yelling at me two inches from my face. Jenna eventually convinced me to walk away. I can understand why he might feel like that. A lot of rich, older, French women come to Senegal in search of attractive, young, Senegalese men. However, for him to assume that I am here because of some devious motivation really offended me. Not to mention, no one likes being called ugly by strangers.

The next day was actual Independence Day. My program took us to Stade Leopold Sedar Senghor, a large stadium in Dakar, to see a traditional wrestling match between Mike Tyson (a Senegalese man who has taken on Tyson's name and wears and American flag) and Yekini. This was a huge match that had been advertised on TV for months leading up to it. It was a rematch between Tyson and Yekini. In the parking lot while we were waiting in line, my friends and I bought whistles for 100 CFA (roughly 20 cents) and t-shirts for 1000 CFA (about $2.00). My t-shirt supported Tyson, who was making his comeback to wrestling that day. CIEE had bought us the expensive seats, which cost $10, and we got to sit in the first row. As usual, there was more dancing than wrestling. Each wrestler has a crew, and they dance together before the match. Unfortunately, Tyson lost the match. But it's okay, because Akon was there! Since he is Senegalese, Akon comes to Independence Day in Senegal every year. He drove around the stadium waving to the crowd before taking his seat to watch the match.

The stadium was crazy once the match ended. There was lots of yelling and cheering, and people started jumping from the crowd down onto the field. This is especially dangerous when the security, who are all military and police, have very large guns and aren't afraid to use their night sticks. We left before anyone got seriously hurt, but I did see the police going after a few people with their night sticks.

Monday classes were cancelled in celebration of Easter, so my friend Katie came over and we dyed Easter eggs! My mom had sent me an egg dying kit in a care package, and it was really nice to celebrate Easter with an American tradition. My Senegalese family did not understand what we were doing at all. We tried, and failed, to explain this bizarre Easter tradition. Eventually, my family gave up trying to understand and were just happy to eat hard-boiled eggs and play with the stickers. Explaining these sort of cultural things gets really tricky when you can only speak French.

A Long Overdue Update

I am currently stuck at home in bed with bronchitis, so I figured this would be a perfect time to update about the past 3 weekends of madness here in Dakar. I can't quite remember the order of what happened when, so I am just going to go through some highlights. A couple weekends ago was my friend Ana's 20th birthday. We celebrated pretty much the entire weekend. On Saturday afternoon, a bunch of CIEE girls that live in Sacre Coeur 3 came over to Ana's house for crepes, bissap (hibiscus juice), fruit, and homemade chocolate chip cookies! It was great. There is no such thing as brown sugar in Senegal, so Ana and her sister had to make due without it when making the cookies. Also, the heat in Ana's oven is on the top, so some of the cookies got a bit burnt, but they were still delicious.

That night, Ana and I took our younger siblings to Magic Land! Magic Land is, essentially, a permanent carnival in Dakar. There are a bunch of rides, mostly for small children. We had my two little brothers, who are 8 and 9, her little brother, who is 8, and her little sister, who is 15. Getting out of the house proved to be really difficult. My little brothers and I headed over to Ana's house around 8:30 for dinner. While Ana and I were in the kitchen helping cook, her brother spilled roughly 5 liters of bissap on the floor. Naturally, this being Senegal, his parents were so angry. Initially, they told him that he could no longer go with us to Magic Land and I'm pretty sure he was beaten with a belt. Corporal punishment is still really common here, even in schools. It's baffling. Then, my brothers started crying because we told them that we weren't going to Magic Land without Ana's brother. Eventually, Ana's mom convinced her dad to let her brother come with us, since his friends were already at the house. One would think that that would be the end of it and we would just eat dinner and go, but then Ana's sister, Aida, declared that she was pissed off at us and was no longer coming. So, we had to sit down and have a chat with Aida about why she was mad. She was upset that we were originally not going to go "just because an 8 year old boy couldn't go." The whole thing was ridiculous and she was being completely unreasonable. Magic Land is for kids! Obviously we wanted to take the kids.

Eventually, we convinced Aida to suck it up and come with us, ate dinner, and were out the door around 10:45 pm. We hopped in a cab and arrived at Magic Land ready to start having some fun. First, we had to buy tickets. Then, the little boys went on a ride on the train. It was so cute! Then we headed over to the haunted house ride, but everyone was too scared to go on that, so we decided to come back to it. We took the boys over to a game where they could shoot at eachother with foam balls, and the three of us went over to the pirate ship ride! It was so much fun. There were a bunch of young Moroccan kids on the ride who we started yelling matches with, and Aida was so scared. It was hillarious. Then, we went back to the haunted house. This was probably the cutest part of the night. Each little boy paired up with one of the girls. Ana and her brother went first. As soon as he was on the ride, he put his head down under the front of the car and didn't move it until the ride was over. I went on with my youngest brother, Bebecheikh, who hid his face in my side the whole time. I don't think either of them saw a thing the entire time. My brother Mohammed was supposed to go on with Aida, but when we got out we found out that he chickened out and she went on the ride with the owner's son. The whole thing was adorable.

By midnight, we decided it was time to get the kids home and put them to bed. Plus, there was a birthday party for Ana and a couple other people at Jenna's house in Ouakam that we needed to get to. So, we dropped the kids of in Sacre Coeur 3, got ready, and headed over to Ouakam. We got to Jenna's house and were greeted by delicious kebabs, chocolate cake, and gin. The night was really fun. We hung out with Jenna's brothers and a few other CIEE kids, dancing and drinking until around 4am.

We have also made somewhat of a CIEE tradition out of heading to this little hole-in-the-wall bar every Thursday night for what we like to call "j'ai soif jeudi." La Manguiline is literally a liquor store with tables, and they have the cheapest beer we've found yet in Dakar. It is in Mermoz and is within walking distance from my house. This is always lots of fun, and usually ends with us walking down to the hookah bar for a few hours.

This past weekend, the group Magic System was playing at this club called "Nirvana" on Friday night. Most of us knew their music, and those that didn't had at least heard it in the clubs, so we made a night of it. We started off at this guy named Harris's house. He lives in, by far, the nicest house I have seen in Dakar. It is absolutely amazing. His family has their own guard posted outside the house! Ana and I didn't arrive until around midnight, at which point everyone had already been seriously partying for a couple of hours. At around 1:30 we walked over to Nirvana. This club was amazing! It was beautiful and so nice. We had to pay 10,000 CFA to get in (roughly $20), which is crazy expensive, but I think it was worth it. We danced until 4:15 am, when the band finally went on. I love living in a city where it is perfectly acceptable that the band doesn't go on until after 4:00. They played all their hits (or about 5 songs) and then they were done. Even though they weren't on for long, the whole night was tons of fun and totally worth the money.

This update definitely makes it sound like all I do here is party, but that's not necessarily true. Yes, Dakar night life is crazy and I really enjoy it. But! I am also spending a lot of time hanging out with my family and in the neighborhood, meeting people and learning what is it like to live in Senegal. This weekend, on Easter, is Independence Day. It's the 50th anniversary of Senegalese independence! There is a big wrestling match that CIEE is taking us to and the whole city should just be one big celebration. I'm really excited.

In two weeks we head out into the villages for our "Rural Visits." This is where we get to spend a week with non-profits or Peace Corps volunteers living in villages and helping them with their work. I am really excited. Hopefully, I will get placed with a Peace Corps volunteer doing agroforestry work. I can't wait to get to explore rural Senegal! I'm also really hoping that I get to do something evironmentally related. I am working on getting a summer internship with a think-tank/consulting firm called EcoAgriculture Partners. They are based out of DC and run by a Wellesley alumna. Basically, they work to improve rural lifestyles through sustainable agricultural practices. It looks really interesting and I'm really hoping that this works out!

Dealing with loss in Senegal

As many people who read this blog know, yesterday my neighborhood received some really sad news. After years of fighting cancer, Dave Pratt passed away yesterday morning at 4:55 am. My younger brother answered the phone when I got the call from my dad, since I was up on the roof, and brought me my phone. Both of my brothers were there watching me while I cried as I heard the news and decided how to proceed with my day. Dealing with emotion is really different in Senegal. Crying is really only acceptable in the case of death. If people see you crying, they will assume that something really terrible has happened.

Explaining what happened to my brothers was really difficult. Mostly, it was hard to define my relationship with Dave for them, since I speak French with them. I still haven't told anyone else in my family here. Bebecheikh and Mohammed have been consistently asking me if I am still sad and trying to understand what I am going through. It's all very sweet and it's so interesting to see how 8 and 9 year olds process the idea of death.

If there was ever a time when I wished I was home with the neighborhood, this is it. I love you guys and I'm thinking of all of you, especially the Silverman-Pratts, constantly.

The Gambia Part Two- Tendaba Camp

The morning after our epic wild boar roast, we woke up and got ready to head to Tendaba Camp. Tendaba is located farther west along The Gambia River. It is close to two national parks- Kiang West National Park and Baobolong Wetland Reserve. It is also the only place to stay in the area and is, therefore really expensive. Bass drove us from Jangjangbureh to Tendaba and all we had to pay for was fuel. The trip was long and really dusty. In The Gambia, there are police and military checkpoints roughly every 10 minutes. We didn't have any problems at most of them, since there were 3 white American girls in the car for the armed officers to flirt with. The one time that there was a problem was when we encountered a female cop. Eventually, Bass gave her a bribe and we continued on our way.

Finally, we arrived at the camp and Bass helped us get settled. We could tell as soon as we got there that there was going to be a problem with money. We had started running out of money at this point, and this was a really nice camp. It had a big restaurant, two bars, and a swimming pool! Eventually, Bass convinced them to give us a 10% discount, since we are students, and we started to get settled in. We were all exhausted from traveling all day, and I crashed pretty early.

The next day, Wednesday, the plan was to explore the village. However, it's a tiny town with not a whole lot to see, so we ended up spending a good portion of our day figuring out our budget. Then, we went for a dip in the pool. This was the day we met Faye, who offers cheaper tours than the hotel and cheap(er) food. We made a pretty good deal with him for lunch Wednesday and Thursday and two boat tours on Thursday. We also decided to head home one day early, on Friday morning, because of our lack of funds.

The people in Tendaba were so different from everyone we met in Jangjangbureh. In Jangjangbureh, we made friends with tons of young kids. In Tendaba it was impossible to be friendly with the kids. As soon as they saw white people they started yelling "Hello! Minty!" Minty is how they say candy. Even the adults would immediately start asking you for money. The men were absolutely intolerable, although this was common in both towns. We are used to encountering sexual and romantic advances in Dakar, but the men in The Gambia were much more physical and persistent. It was really frustrating to be seen only as a sex object for a week.

Thursday was, by far, our most exciting day in Tendaba. We woke up at 6 am, while it was still dark, to meet Faye for a 7 am boat trip. We watched the sunrise from the boat on our way to Kiang West National Park. Once we arrived at the park, we got out of our boat and spent the next few hours walking. The landscape was beautiful. We walked through salt flats, forests, and fields. Eventually, we came across an entire herd of baboons. There must have been 40 or 50 of them, and they crossed the path right in front of us. A few of them started menacingly walking towards us, but we held our ground and they moved on. We also saw lots of bird. Birds were definitely the theme in The Gambia. It's a huge bird-watching destination, and there were lots of fat, European bird-watchers around, especially at Tendaba.

In the afternoon, after a nap and a dip in the pool, we met Faye again for a boat tour through Baobolong Wetland Reserve. On our way out to the reserve, we saw a whole bunch of dolphins! They were so cool. They follow the sound of the motor, so we got to watch them through most of the ride out there. One we got to the reserve, we spend the next couple of hours driving through the mangroves, looking for crocodiles. Unfortunately, we didn't see any. It's, apparently, a bad time of year to see crocodiles since it's so hot out. We did, however, so a whole ton of birds. We also had a lovely argument with Faye about whether or not all Americans are rich. It's really hard to convince people here that just because your are American, it does not mean that you have an endless supply of money. This argument was especially frustrating this time, as we were pretty broke at the moment.

After watching the sunset from the boat on the way back to Tendaba, we went back to the hotel to get ready for the evening. We had heard that Jaliba Kuyateh, the most famous mbalax musician in The Gambia, was playing in a village 2 kilometers away from the camp. We decided that this would be an excellent way to spend our last night in The Gambia, especially since admission was only 100 Dalasi (less than $4). Lamin, a guy we had met at the hotel, offered to drive us to and from the concert for free. After Ana and Jenna argued with the Tendaba Camp management about how much our bill was, we headed out to the village in Lamin's lime green jeep. We got to drive right into the venue, instead of waiting outside, since Lamin thought we would get hassled, being the only toubabs there. We got to sit right up front, and Jaliba was awesome. However, the concert didn't start until around 11:30, and we had been up since 6 am, so we were thoroughly exhausted. By 1:30, we decided it was time to call it a night.

In the morning, we woke up at 6 am so that we could leave Tendaba by 7. It took us way longer than it should have to get back to Dakar thanks to full buses, problems with the ferry, and a miscommunication with our sept-place driver. We didn't get back until about 7:30. By the time we got home, we were all so dirty. I can honestly say that this was the first time I enjoyed my cold shower. As much fun as The Gambia was, I am really happy to be back in Dakar, sleeping in my own bed, and hanging out with my brothers.

The Gambia Part One- Jangjangbureh

We left for The Gambia at 8 am on Friday. Ana and I took a cab to school where we met John, our sept-place driver, and Jenna and Matt. We had been a few minutes late, but we figured that wouldn't be a problem as everything here runs on "West Africa Time." Boy were we wrong. John was really mad that we were late, and he kept reminding us about it all through the 6-plus hour drive. There was also a ton of traffic because of the celebration for Mohammed's birthday, which happens to take place in Kaolack, a city we had to drive through to get to the Senegal/Gambia border.

Despite John's complaining and the intolerable heat inside the car, we made it to Farafenni (the border city inside The Gambia) without any real problems. Then, we had to find a car to take us to Jangjangbureh, a small island out in Eastern Gambia. Because of the holiday, we were charged double by the sept-place driver, but there was really nothing we could do about it since we couldn't spend the night in Farafenni and the ferries stop running to Jangjangbureh at 8pm. Eventually, we made it to the ferry, where we were met by Banna, the proprietor of Talamanca Lodge. He took us across the river in his boat and we got settled into the hotel. It was small, with a little bar and restaurant, but it was comfortable and Banna was really helpful. After we put our things away, we got dinner and crashed for the night.

The next day, we got up on the early side to go for a boat tour with Banna. We went out to Six Junctions, which is a part of The Gambia River where you can see a lot of wildlife. While we were out we saw a ton of different birds, some monkeys, lizards, and three hippos!! It was so exciting. Hippos are super cool... and dangerous. We spent a few hours on the boat and then came back to the lodge.

One of the coolest things we did in Jangjangbureh was go see a traditional wrestling match in a small village called Jamally Babou. We arrived and were taken into one of Banna's friend's compounds. There, we drank ataya (absolutely delicious tea that people drink in Senegal and The Gambia) and talked with some of the people that live in the village. Then, it was time to move to the wrestling arena. This was an outdoor ring, enclosed by a large solid fence. We sat down with a bunch of the village kids and watched as the women ran in with each wrestlers yelling and dancing and playing music. It was very exciting! Then, the wrestlers did a bunch of dancing and not too much wrestling. However, it was really fun to watch. The wrestlers all had great names, such as "Mint Fress" and "Passport" and these guys were HUGE. Passport was the best wrestler by far. He kicked a whole bunch of ass that night. Once it started to get dark things started to get a little bit scary. I am pretty uncomfortable with guns in general, and there were at least 10 armed military and police security personnel in the arena. Apparently, wrestling can turn really violent. Fights often break out amongst the crowd and the wrestlers, so the armed guards are there to scare people from misbehaving. People started getting a lot more intense once they could no longer really see anything, but we left before any real fights started.

On our last night in Jangjangbureh, we were sitting in the bar at Talamanca Lodge when our friend Bass showed up. He had come over to our side of the island to find some palm wine, which he drinks like water, when he had heard about a huge wild boar that some hunter had killed. Naturally, he thought of us and invited us to come over and grill up some bush pig. Of course, we jumped on the chance, and Jenna, Ana, and I got into Bass's car and headed over to the hunter's compound. There, we found an entire, enormous wild boar cut in two on the ground. We picked out our leg, watched the woman hack it off of the pig, and then threw it into the back of the car.

Then, it was off to get the rest of the pig-roasting supplies. First, we went by Bass's compound. Here, we met his mother, who we affectionately call "Mama." She was the sweetest woman I have ever met and immediately welcomed us into her home. After getting a brief tour and picking up the grill plate, we went to one of the boutiques to pick up onions, black pepper, Jumbo (a little brick of spices), mustard, and mayonnaise. We also met up with Matt here, and all of us went over to Maxé's compound together.

When we arrived at Maxé's compound, all I could hear was reggae music. We walked in and Maxé, apparently, had no idea we were coming. But it was fine. He and Matt immediately got to work butchering the giant leg, while Ana and I prepared the onions with Bass. Then, Jenna and I helped light the fire, and we all got cooking. It took an impressively long time to cook half of the meat, as there was so much of it, so I took this time to get to know everyone better.

First, there is Maxé. He is a 44 year old man who owns an amazing compound, where he is in the process of building a lodge, bar, restaurant, and stage. He is also an artist and performer, although his art isn't that great. Basically, it appears that he spends his days getting high, making art, working on his compound, and drinking palm wine. He was a really cool guy and he was lots of fun to talk to.

Then there was Keba. He is a musician who had just returned from playing at one of the camps in the area. When he arrived, he was clearly already drunk. He didn't stop drinking until he promptly passed out half-way through cooking. He was hilarious and, once he woke up again, was super fun to dance with.

Fodé was there as well. We had met him a few times, and he really, really liked me. But he turned out to be an okay guy. Although he was nowhere near as interesting as the other guys we were with, he REALLY wanted to be remembered. Every time I saw him, he would yell "Abbey! It's me! Fodé! From the other day! Remember?" to which I would reply "Yes Fodé, I remember you." He's also an entertainer. He dances and drums.

Lastly, there was Bass. Bassman was our best friend in Jangjangbureh. He was absolutely hilarious, constantly drinking palm wine and smoking joints, and is really one of the best guys I have met in West Africa. Most men we encountered in The Gambia were immediately interested in us as sex objects since we were white women. Bass, on the other hand, was interested in being our friend, protecting us from unwanted attention, and having fun.

So, after we had finished cooking, we all sat down to eat together. The meat tasted delicious, but it was so tough to chew. I discovered that the key to eating wild boar is to eat the smaller pieces. They are way easier to chew and your jaw wont hurt nearly as much. After dinner, it was time to "digest" as Bass called it. That meant we all had to get up and dance to mbalax music. Mbalax is really fun. Everyone should look up Youssou Ndour and Jaliba Kuyateh. After a while of fun dancing, the very drunk men we were with started getting a little too handsy, so we decided it was time to leave.

I absolutely loved Jangjangbureh. It was so much fun and we really met some amazing people. Plus, we got to eat wild boar and see hippos!