Empanadas-Muy Bien!

I have spent the entire day hiding under my bed covers afraid to face the sunlight.  I am sick.

Licking the spoons :)

My feeling sick is honestly a mix of illness and a hangover from last night.  I went to bed at 4:30AM after drinking a lot of wine, it is my fault. Tea is the only thing getting me through the day :/ 
Yesterday I was chipper, running around making empanadas for Sabrina's birthday.  It was my first time making empanadas, so it was fun work! I did not have the same skills as Sabrina when sealing the pastries shut, but the tasted delicious all the same.

EMPANADAS!

I had two couchsurfers staying over as well, which were a great help to the production line. It was interesting comparing everyone's empanada sealing technique, however.  Howard was a couchsurfer from Taiwan, so his empanadas looked like dumplings. 

Pilar and Sabrina

The empanadas I pinched shut looked suspiciously like raviolis. Pilar was the other couchsurfer, originally from Argentina like Sabrina, so they were expert chefs! We made beef, tuna, and corn empanadas, so delicious!
I love food because it brings people together and reveals so much about our individual cultures. What better way to share a Saturday than some collective cooking?

Sabrina's birthday was a good way to end a nice two-week vacation.  I am ready to return to work, but I will miss the lazy mornings and late nights.  Here is a great picture of my housemates and I from last night.  Joyeux Anniversaire! Feliz Cumpleaños! Happy Birthday!

Thomas, Etienne, Sabrina, myself, and Annie

"Do you have any advice for those of us just starting out?"

"Do you have any advice for those of us just starting out?"

Ron Koertge

Fever, 2006

Give up sitting dutifully as your desk. Leave

your house or apartment.  Go out into the world.

It's all right to carry a notebook but a cheap

one is best, with pages the color of weak tea

and on the front a kitten or a spaceship.

Avoid any enclosed space where more than

three people are wearing turtlenecks.  Beware

any snow-covered chalet with deer tracks

across the muffled tennis courts.

Not surprisingly, libraries are a good place to write.

And the perfect place in a library is near an aisle

where a child a year or two old is playing as his

mother browses the ranks of the dead.

Often he will pull books from the bottom shelf.

The title, the author's name, the brooding photo

on the flap mean nothing. Red book on black, gray

book on brown, he builds a tower. And the higher

it gets, the wider he grins.

You who asked for advice, listen: When the tower

falls, be like that child. Laugh so loud everybody

in the world frowns and says, "shhhh."

Then start again.

I guess I'm Just Feeling Autumnish

One of the main squares in Brussels

It officially feels like Autumn here :) The weather is chilly, my heat is turned on, I cook squash at least once a week, and I have a constant desire to drink tea or hot cocoa.  The scent of chestnuts lingers in the kitchen, as one of us is inevitably cooking them up for a snack.  I have a pile of leaves that blow through the door with me if the mistral is picking up and I live in my LL Bean slippers.  In many ways it feels like the Autumn I know from the US, but one bonus about the south of France is the sun.  In the North East, we get cold weather and each day it creeps closer to Christmas it also gets darker and grayer.  In Avignon, our time change hit a week earlier, so sunset is around 7PM, but I expect to have a lot of sunlight come the holidays.

Two weekends ago I was in Brussels, which was a different change from Avignon.  It was damp, but warmer than the south.  It is amazing how wind can make everything feel colder!  I was working Megavino with some other Finger Lakes and New York State representatives.  Megavino was an interesting experience, and after the long weekend I was exhausted of explaining that New State ≠ New York City.  A countless number of people asked me if we grew grape vines atop apartment buildings in New York City, *sigh*. I did get to spend some time seeing who else was attending the exposition and I got to taste some wines from all over the place: Slovenia, Hungary, France, Switzerland, Italy, Spain, Germany, and South Africa.  There were other countries present, but I could not taste everything :) I had some delicious meals and a comfortable hotel room as compensation for working the show.  Of all the things I tried, I made sure to try horse meat while I was in Belgium.  Many people would probably beat me over the head for eating it, but it is a cultural staple in Belgium.  In all honesty, it tasted like beef.  I do not particularly love beef, so I do not have a burning desire to eat horse in the next year.  Here is an interesting article on the history of horse meat. If you enjoy beef, you would probably love horse.

Sasha and I with our Belgian beers!

While in Brussels I did seek out some chocolate.  I bought a cup of hot chocolate for my lunch and I invested in chocolates for Christmas. I bought the chocolates from Pierre Marcolini a well-known chocolatier in Belgium.  Supposedly they have won for best chocolate in Belgium a few years in a row.  After my taste test, I can see why–delicious!

I returned from Brussels to finish out my week teaching about Halloween.  I read The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything eleven times.  By the time my last class heard the story, I was nearly reciting it by memory! I should thank my mom for mailing me the book along with some Halloween stickers that I handed out.  I now have off until November 12 because of Toussaint vacation. It is a two-week break from school to celebrate Toussaint (All Saints Day).  I do not mind the break as it is allowing me to get settled into my home and Avignon. I can just meander the streets and nearby Villeneuve-Lez-Avignon without worrying about work.  I suppose next week I will think more about lesson planning, but for now I will relish in the sunshine and abundance of pastries available to me in France!

Tomorrow will surely be a lazy day and I am just awaiting my next tutoring session so I can buy a charger for my camera.  Someday soon I will have pictures from Avignon and my local visits to share!

Because some people just Can't Speak French...

Settling In.

It is a weird feeling when it finally hits that you will be staying somewhere for more than a few weeks.  This happened today. A mix of extreme sadness and joyful anticipation swirls inside of you and out comes a headache.  Fortunately, mailing a few letters in the direction of the US tends to relieve headaches brought on my this type of stress, so I did exactly that today. Le mistral has begun to pick up, but I still managed to fight back against the wind to send some mail stateside.

The joyful anticipation of what is to come occurs everyday in the silly things that happen to/around me.  If I did not know how to laugh at myself I would never survive. Here is a tidbit from this past weekend (and the necessary back story).  I live with five people.  Sometimes, however, we become eight when my landlord and his two daughters are around the house.  They are wonderful, so I am not put off by his presence, but I had a very "French" experience on Saturday.  I tutored in Pujaut Saturday morning, caught a bus back to Avignon around 2PM, and then met up with a couple other assistants around 2:30PM. We meandered around a bit, but we decided to swing by my house after I bought some groceries that needed a fridge.  I walked into the kitchen to find all of my housemates and landlord sitting around our kitchen table.  I was about to miss the octopus cook-off! I really did not want to miss this.  My one housemate (Etienne) is French, but from Mayotte (think Comoros islands near Madagascar).  My landlord (Raynald) is French as well and wanted to defend his style of octopus preparation after Etienne said that it was only "okay."  The rest of us were called upon to be judges in the important event.  I innocently dragged two language assistants into the competition as well, and one of them was not a fan of octopus. So I spent Saturday stuffing myself with octopus, one in the style of a sauce over rice and the other in a tapas style. In the end, my landlord won by one vote (we were nine) and he stood on a chair pounding his chest.  I have never rented a room from someone like this before. I like it. I think that all landlords/landladies should take a page from his book.

I thought that my eventful Saturday was over once my belly was full, but how silly of me!  Raynald's younger daughter has really taken to me.  She is ten, and upon her discovery of my sticker collection for my students, has become my best friend.  I think that she is trying to sweet talk me into free stickers.  I mean, I am suspicious that Kelby dates me for the same reason :P So she really likes me, and as I was getting ready to go out to a bar for the night she asked to come along. I told her to check with her father assuming that he would say no.  How silly of me. Raynald thought that it was a fine idea and told his daughter that she could go.  He also offered to drive us, so seven of us (plus the dog!) piled into a little Renault to make our way to the bar.  Needless to say, it was a really tight squeeze.  I also ordered drinks with a child for the first time.  Raynald's daughter did order a Coca-cola, so I cannot say that she was drinking crappy red wine with me, but even so, how many people can say that they went out with a child and her pet dog? I assume not many.  I really hope that this assumption is correct!

What could be more "Provence?" Drinking wine in the street, at a bar with a child and dog, a warm night...Also, did I mention that I had two Spanish couchsurfers staying over Saturday night? They found this entire situation hilarious. However, there was some mild confusion since they had little grasp of the French language.

I guess the part of me that gets sad is when I know that I cannot share these types of moments with the person that means the most to me.  *Sigh*, as I told myself earlier today: soon enough!

Well, until next time! I suggest taking a child and her dog to a bar with you so that I am not the only one :D

Sur le Pont d'Avignon...

Avignon

While working in Fox Run's tasting room this summer, I had an unexpected number of people break out into this French classic.  They were trying to connect with me when I told them that my future plans were not to pour wine for strangers, and that for the moment I was headed to Avignon for seven months.  On the rare occasion they would even do a twirl when it got to the "on y danse" line of the song.  Silly tourists. 

My bedroom! (Well, some of it...)

That little intro to announce that I am in Avignon and I have been here for almost two weeks.  I arrived at the end of September on a rainy night after 28 hours of travel.  As one could expect, for irony's sake, the last leg of my trip had a hiccup.  The train I was on got delayed en route to Avignon because of something that had fallen across the tracks.  Thirty minutes away from my end destination and I got stuck on the train. Damn.  When I finally did arrive I had to get to my couchsurfing host's apartment by taxi.  There were, of course, no taxis at the station.  I got drizzled on for about twenty pathetic minutes while I awaited a taxi to swing by and scoop me up. Fortunately, I had been hanging out in the wine production facility at Fox Run long enough to not mind a bit of dampness.  I mean, it is never ideal, but I was okay with it.  My host, Charlotte, was kind enough to boil some water and offer me some chamomile tea.  It was a good end to a long trip and miserable weather.

The next morning I took my time getting up and dragged myself out of their house to start what I was dreading: house hunting.  Ugh! It just sounds terrifying, doesn't it? When landing in a new country the last thing that you want to deal with is finding a place to live.  I buckled down for a frustrating and potentially fruitless day.  Perhaps to prove me wrong and perk me up, my day took an unexpected turn for the best! I was waiting at the bus stop and realized that I had no idea how to arrive in the center of Avignon.  There was one other person waiting for the bus, a young man, and I asked for help.  The conversation about where I was going soon turned to why I was headed there.  I informed the young man, Thomas, that I was looking for a room to rent.  As it turns out, Thomas is a student at the local university and there was one free room in the house where he had just begun renting.  He asked if I would like him to call the landlord, Raynald, and see if the room was still available.  I said that I would appreciate it (but I was a bit sketched out) and he called.  Well, the room was available and I am typing this post from it! Everyone turned out to be great, and I live with three students and another American teaching assistant.  Within 100 feet of Charlotte's house I found a room to rent for seven months, who would have guessed it!

From that point on everything has been great.  Ignoring the mountain of paperwork necessary for the French government, my life is Avignon is going well.   I have two families that I "tutor" for (it is more babysitting in English than actually tutoring), I started going to my schools this week, and next week I am off to Brussels for the International Wine Expo. 

A great picture from Fox Run! Thanks for sending it, Peter :)

Things that I will not do this year:
-Take in stray kittens
-Eat a lot of rice
-Drink café Touba every morning
-Grade A LOT of 4th grade math assignments
-Get tan

There are aspects of Senegal that I miss, but I may be much better at keeping this blog since I will always have power/Internet when I fancy writing about my experiences in France.

As always, I love mail, so send me letters, postcards, anything!

Julia Hoyle
36 Rue du Rempart Saint-Lazare
Avignon, 84000
FRANCE

Until next time I get the urge to blog, à plus!

Dix-neuf

Nothing much has happened since yesterday except a good night's sleep, so this will be a quick update:

Weird, right?

What am I looking forward to? Rain.  When you are away from it for a long time you being to miss it.  I have seen in rain twice in the past seven months (excluding when I was home in December) and that is not enough! One of those two times was when James first got here and we went for a jog in the rain–it felt great! I am so looking forward to late nights listening to the rain pound my roof while drinking tea, hot chocolate, wine, or something else delicious!

A picture I took of Seneca Lake after staying up for the Perseids (2009)

When I leave I will miss waking up with the sunrise.  Everyday the sun is rising as I rise for work–I love it!  Getting out of bed in the dark makes me feel even more exhausted than I am, and waking up once the day has started makes me feel lazy. I love that the sun and I have the same schedule in the AM while I am over here :)



Because Creedence Clearwater Revival always puts me in a summer mood:

Day 20

In my eagerness to return home in 20 days (what?!) I have decided to post a reason every day leading up to the solstice why I am ready to come home and what I will miss.  I really hope that I can keep myself focused enough to do this, haha!

Reason to come home: http://passthesushi.com/peanut-butter-oreo-popsicles

I am so ready to come home and get my hands on all the yummy snacks I have missed out on for 11 months!  Topping my list are: milk, iced coffee, baked goods of any kind, wild berries, and wine!

Something I will miss is seeing people hang off of taxis and car rapides in every conceivable way.  I have seen skateboarders and rollerbladers clutching to the back of cars (very Back to the Future), people hanging onto the grate of a car rapide for dear life, and I witnessed someone sitting on a trunk the other day! People are certainly creative :P

 

Side note: today I received the "Most Tidy" award from ISD's Elementary Student Council. This is humorous to anyone that has ever lived with me.  I guess that I am just good at keeping my messiness hidden :D

April In a Nutshell (A Coconut Shell!)

The beginning of April marked a much needed break from school.  Once I got my third rabies shot I was ready to take on the world! I was very torn up about Rafiki and I wanted to just get away. It is odd how simply changing where we are can hit some sort of reset button, but it worked.  To get down to the Casamance, Dede and I were hoping to take the Alioune Diatta boat (just someone's name), which had different pricing from $20-60 for a bed and breakfast in the AM.  Unfortunately, every private expat school had off the week before Easter and it was the week before Easter, so the boat was full. This left us with the option to take the 7-place car down to the Casamance (8000 CFA each, $16 for a 12-hour trip).

Checking to see which sept-place is next to leave.

 I planned accordingly and wore a dress for the trip.  A dress is MUCH easier to use a squat toilet in than pants, and I wore a baggy dress so I could sneakily carry my money belt baby with me. I packed a backpack full of necessities, two changes of clothes, a lot of underwear, basic shower supplies, a wash cloth, and other odds and ends, and we were off!  We each brought one backpack, and it was small enough to keep under our feet.  There is the stupid rule here that if you have a large bag you must put it in the trunk and you must pay for it to be in the trunk. Idiotic.  Sometimes every passenger has a bag crammed between their legs and the trunk is empty because no one wants to play the extra 1000 CFA–it is the principal of it!

We left around 7 PM, stopped once for dinner en route, and arrived at the Gambian border around 3 AM. The first part of the trip was fine, but the roads got worse as we continued on, so one of the passenger had to stop the taxi a few times to puke. Ew. Once we got the border we all got some sleep in the taxi because the border police do not open the gate until 6 AM or so. After crossing the border we could make our way to the ferry which would bring us to Casamance!   My transit VISA cost $2 on each side of the river, and it was the Gambians who always charged $2, the Senegalese did not charge a penny (CFA?).   When we crossed the border, a Gambian police officer who stamped my passport saluted me and said "Americano!" I swear he was high.  I have never seen such a cracked out person in my life.  I could have been café Touba, however. I can attest that café Touba has a special kick to it.  It gives you energy that you never knew existed, which is why I drink it every morning.

A feast: coconut, cashew fruit, and many other yummy things!

 I got all my papers in order before the gate opened to cross the border into Gambia (we were right up front), but our taxi driver must have forgotten to do the same because we had quite the episode as he frantically tried to get his papers stamped minutes before the border opened, such a Senegal moment, ha! Below is what I wrote in my journal just after the madness:

"We arrived at the Senegal-Gambia border around 2:30 AM, which gave us until sunrise to catch up on some Zs in the taxi.  Upon arriving, I curled up for a while but after a few minutes of tossing and turning, I decided to take in the sites, not very much.

(Vehicle now moving...)

A bit before sunrise I realized that I needed to get the proper stamps/VISAs to get through Gambia to Ziguinchor.  That is when the craziness, accompanied with a lot of giggling commenced.   The police officer at the Senegal post stamped my passport with a smile and no questions asked. We then asked where we could find the toilet, to which he directed us to the mosque, 'behind the Mosque, of course!'  Dede and I found the bathroom and discovered that it had a fee! 25 CFA (5¢) to pee and 50 CFA (10¢) to poop.  Never have I paid to use a toilet in Senegal before, especially one located behind a Mosque! I may quickly add that it was a gross squat toilet, but not quite as awful as the one I was subjected to at Garage Pompiers in Dakar (where we found the 7-place). (In case you were wondering, I paid 25 CFA.)

Shortly after the bathroom episode I was scooting around the fence marking the Senegal-Gambia border to pay for a transit VISA.  Easily the cheapest VISA I have paid for, only 1000 CFA.  I could have spent the morning squatting over the Mosque toilet at that price!  As we were walking back I saw the lights of the sept-place turned on (we were the first car at the border).  The car was ready to go when the border crossing was opened.  Skipping a quick egg, mayo, and bread breakfast I hopped in the backseat so we could drive immediately.  We were, of course, missing a very important person – the driver!  He had forgotten to register his car with the Gambians at the border, just as I had had registered my transit VISA.  And of course, in his absence the border opened and it was a legitimate car race as everyone wants to get to the ferry crossing first.

In lieu of our driver, one of the men in the backseat hopped forward and took control!  We were driving the car to our driver, ha!  We passed him to which he stopped, did a double-take, and started running with the car until the Gambian border post where he should have registered his car an hour ago! There were lots of limbs flying as we did a quick Chinese fire drill and everyone settled in their original seats.  The one back seat passenger was halfway out the door when we started to rev up to 55 mph! It was all in good humor and we laughed most of the way to the ferry crossing because we had all shared a ridiculous five minutes."

Cebbu-jën

So there you have it, one of the silliest moments of my trip! We arrived in Ziguinchor around noon, and just after crossing the bridge to the city our sept-place broke down. No big deal, we walked about a mile to the hostel we eventually stayed at for 6000 CFA/night total.  The 10-days I was gone I really just hung out.  Dede and I ate most meals at the hostel or went up to the garage/bus station to eat where rice dishes cost 400 or 500 CFA each.   I had some good cebbu jën and a fantastic shrimp and rice dish.  I drank a lot of tamarin juice as I found a bar that should 1.5 liter bottles for 1000 CFA, which is unheard of in Dakar! I also drank a lot of beer, it was 1/2 the price of the same bottle in Dakar.  I concluded this is because Casamance is cheaper overall and there are a lot of Christians in Casamance. Imagine giant beers for $1.50, it was glorious!  It was also a bit hotter in the south of Senegal.  During the day it was near 90˚, but at night it would drop to 70˚.

Shrimp and rice–yum!

So we arrived in Ziguinchor Wednesday, April 3 and left for Cap Skirring Saturday, April 6.  During the day Saturday we swung by my friend Moïse's place in a village (and I mean village) in Diakène Djola, which is a 15-minute drive from the coast.  I ate some AWESOME Yassa Poulet (chicken, rice, and onion sauce) and tried palm wine. Like anything away from the city life, the village life is slow and pretty worry-free. The worst part of visiting Moïse was the one-hour trek from the main road to his village. I certainly got my workout in Casamance, but I also ate a lot, so everything balanced out :P

Saturday night we found a cheap room right on the ocean, and next to the Guinea-Bissau border, for $7/night each.  I spent the next two days relaxing on the beach, reading, and teaching Dede Bananagrams, which I obviously packed in my bag! After breakfast Monday we decided to make our way up to The Gambia.  The trip up to The Gambia was uneventful, but tense as we passed through the region of Casamance that is known to have rebel soldiers. I am so glad that no scary situations materialized! We spent about 30 minutes at the border bargaining for my VISA, which was $20 instead of $40, and then continued on to find a nice hotel next to the beach.

Cap Skirring. Simply beautiful.

Upon arriving next to the beach I immediately was shocked by the old white person-young Gambian symbiotic relationships that were everywhere.  It is a bit like sex slavery, in a way, and it is disgusting.  These old white people come to their "former" colony, pay young people for sex and feed them, and then leave when they are ready to go.  The young Gambians would surely prefer another line of work if one existed, but I suppose dictatorships in small, poor West African countries do not foster a strong economy.  There was this one weird drink that I had in The Gambia, it cost 20¢ and was called "sap juice."  It came in the little baggies that are factory sealed off, but I have never seem it in Senegal, which is strange because the terrain is exactly the same in the two countries. It may have come from Taiwan, as the two governments are very close, but it was so good (but freaky good)!

Two days in the Gambia was enough and I hopped in a taxi to get to Banjul and a different ferry, which would take us to Barra and eventually a car to Senegal.  At the port we found a car that was looking to fill its seats for 4000 CFA/person to get to Kaolack.  It sounded like a plan and we saved our seats.  I thought maybe we would be at the port for a couple of hours, but how silly I am.  We were at the port for 8 hours waiting to cross! When we finally crossed it felt unreal, but we made it to Barra and eventually to Kaolack.  We arrived in Kaolack around 10 PM, so we ate some food and then found the crazy cheap Catholic hostel around the corner, $4/night.

We left for Dakar the next morning and caught a bus, which was about $3/person and upon arrival to to Dakar, I sped home and crashed!

After that trip I had a couple days to readjust before returning to work. Nothing all that special happened while I was at work the next two weeks. I should mention that I was accepted to teach in the Aix-Marseille region of France next year, so that is an exciting update :D

Writing about all the strange and new things I witnessed!

Some Things Are Only Done Out Of Love.

 There are some moments in life that you never forget.  Often relationships evolve as intimate moments are shared between two parties. Well, let me tell you, I have crossed into new territory with my cat. Today marked a new chapter in my relationship with Rafiki.  I suppose his high protein diet is a little too high in protein and the awful, nay, horrifying had to occur today: I gave my cat an enema! Just the thought of it makes my stomach turn. I did not want to do it, but vets are not easily found in Dakar.  I could not stand his howls of pain so I broke down. THE HORROR! You know how Lady Macbeth could never wash the king's blood off of her hands? Well I cannot seem to wash the smell of cat poo out of my apartment.  Too much info? I would say I am sorry, but I have been scarred by this experience. I need to share my terror with someone, and you, the reader of my blog, are the lucky person I am sharing it with. What has this taught me? Well, two things I suppose. 1) I love little Rafiki. 2) Cats can store up a whole lot of shit when they are constipated–oh my god! I do not wish a constipated pet on anyone, especially anyone living in West Africa where emergency vets are not as easy to come by.

What a DIVA!

I must admit giving my cat an enema was not even the most disturbing part of this experience. As I was looking up some info on the Internet (after talking to a vet) I clicked on a link that I thought would be helpful.  Turns out someone wanted to post on the Internet how much they enjoyed receiving enemas from their mother. Um...WHAT DO I EVEN SAY TO THAT?!

 Freud would have had a field day. I did not. Ew.

What If Jimi Hendrix Had Lived Longer?

There seems to be an age as a young adult that we begin to believe that maybe, just perhaps (although with reasonable doubt), we are not invincible.  Unfortunately, this realization is usually accompanied with the death of someone dear.  This past weekend a high school student at ISD died in a moto accident. Over the past couple of days, I have witnessed many young students dealing with this for the first time.  It is never easy.  It is even harder when you recognize that the full potential of someone was never realized.  Communities big and small are shaken by these tragedies, and no matter how sad one is, the truth we try to ignore is always looming- this is not something new and it will happen again.

Did I intend to write a somber blog post this evening? No. It has been over two weeks since I last posted anything, and this post is more to do with realizing how beautiful, yet fleeting, life can be.  I do not believe that anything is predetermined.  I may remark that the odds are in your favor, but Lady Luck is nothing more than symbol alluded to by countless authors (and myself!).  In recent years I have just always been struck by a truth, well, I suppose it is a personal truth.  I do not like saying I will do something "later," unless it is a chore, then I do not mind.  When something is on my mind I do not like to ignore it, I would much prefer to acknowledge the thought bouncing around in my head. We have all read the books, seen the movies, and skimmed the news articles about countless people who were always working towards a better and brighter future. I ask you this, what good is your future if your present is dismal? Personally, I think that my present life is a beautiful thing! Although getting out of bed can be a drag some mornings, with a little bit of help from my good friends James Brown, Thurston Harris, and Creedence Clearwater Revival, that initial laziness is soon swept away by a steaming bowl of oatmeal and a fresh banana!

I guess that I just try to live everyday to the fullest, I mean, why wouldn't I?!  But just think about it.  For instance, how many times have you passed by something on your daily commute and never stopped to check it out? Well, why not see what it is all about tomorrow? It could close, maybe you will change your route, or perhaps you will lose the opportunity to check out the funky place, catch my drift? Or perhaps you did not try a new restaurant because it was a little pricey, maybe in a couple of months? Well, I would venture a guess that a "couple of months" will turn into a "couple of years," no? Why not splurge just once in awhile and stop day dreaming?

We certainly need a fair balance of living for the present and being aware of the future. I would not argue for just one or the other, but I do think that it is a shame when we overlook one for the other...

I certainly hope that this blog post was not too much of a downer, it is merely a summary of my musings the past two days. And you may be wondering about the title? Well, imagine if Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, Aaliyah, Tupac, and (dare I say it?!) Amy Winehouse had all lived longer? What did music lose by their untimely deaths? What about all of the people we knew and have lost at too young of an age, what did the world lose by their untimely deaths?

I, for one, am just going to keep living each day like it is the most beautiful day yet.  Hopefully someone will feel the sunshine exuding from me and pass it on to someone else :)

So Maybe I Am The ScarylikeXenaWarriorPrincess Type Feminist...

I was perusing my former posts to update the inevitable grammar and spelling mistakes when my eyes roamed to my section entitled "The News I Care About." In a very short post I think that I should just list out what the headlines for my favorite blog sites are the day after Valentine's Day...

Jezebel: "Florists Deliver A Total Shitshow Instead of Pretty Bouquets (Flowers)"

Africa Is A Country: "Music Break Sababu"

Blag Hag: "Well Double Fuck :("

Reproductive Health: "The Vagina Ideologues & the 'World's Holiest Sausage Fest'"

The Crunk Feminist Collective: "Happy Galentine's Day!: A Little Love (In Whatever Form) Is All We Need"

Okay, so I left off Hullabaloo and Pitchfork (a new-found joy!) because they did not make me laugh, although they were equally as interesting.  I think I may now know why the world thinks that I am a scary feminist-type, HA! I do make myself laugh...

This is just too perfect.

PS. 100% kidding about the title of this blog post, I really hope that I never appear to be scary like Xena :(

Where Does the Food Go?

Yes, the title to this post is a play on words. I like Tegan & Sara. In all seriousness I have been reading so much about food recently, and I cannot keep from having nightmare about where my beef is coming from.  I like to think that in Senegal I am safe from processed food.  What a delusion!

I may have posted about the heebee jeebees my garlic from China gives me. I also get a little suspicious when I see miniscule bits of bone in my cats food, but I try not to think twice about it (the canning facility is in Dakar).  Perhaps I stare at my food before eating it (in particular meat) because I was a vegetarian for quite some time.  I think I just read too much. Too many books, news articles, blogs, and food recalls weigh on my mind for me to not consider what is going into my body.  In college I tried to not be too preoccupied with these thoughts as Sodexho controlled the campus food industry, I had no escaping the American mass-produced food cycle. 

Stick it to 'em, Cookie Monster!

Well, college was only allowing me to see the tip of iceberg...

I would be lying if I claimed my criticism and troubled feelings over the food industry were new.  I used to go to the Green Peace website in high school for fun.  I have seen Supersize Me, a documentary that put me to sleep with its more than obvious conclusion.  In fact, I would suggest just planting your own garden and tending it all summer as opposed to wasting precious moments watching someone become obese while munching on McDonald's for one month.  What is the underlying trouble for me with all of my reading? I love bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches from Dunkin Donuts! Voilà, my shameful "secret."  It is surely not a secret for anyone who knew me between the years of 2009-2011. Now, for my own conscious and personal health I hope that come June 2012, my return to good ol' U.S. of A., I will be able to say "RIP bacon, egg, and cheese on a manager's special bagel." So why is this delicious sandwich weighing on me? The bacon...where does it come from?  The egg...how tiny of a cage was that poor chicken kept in? The cheese...is it even real? I am not going to attack the bagel because bagels are just not good for anyone, or at least not how Americans eat them today, they are, however, SO GOOD.  Did you know your average bagel is equivalent to four BIG pieces of bread.  That is three more than your package of bread bought at your local grocery store suggests.

Yes you are, and I am not comfortable with your omnipresence.

When I was home in December I had a shocking discovery that I did not realize upon my last return from Senegal.  Bananas in the US suck. So do mangoes (I knew this already) and Corresol (spelling?) just does not even exist in the US.  I sat down to munch on a banana at my brothers one morning and I thought I was eating sand.  Hm...so I guess shipping fruit for thousands of miles does effect the taste, who knew? In my head I am writing this with a very sarcastic tone, I expect that the WWW (not to be confused with the WWF) will not let my tone come across.  The more I consider it, I realize buying local is pure common sense.  Not only are you cutting down on the actual transportation of an item, but unless you really do your research, what conditions were your ground beef and "fresh" spinach raised/grown under?  In my opinion, the further it has to travel, the more gray area.  Unless you buy fast food and live just a few miles away from a slaughterhouse where poor quality meat is raised under obscene conditions, in which case you are just extremely unfortunate and I would suggest moving.

I honestly cannot comprehend how our government backhandedly supports this industry, which is dependent on corn...I mean, I like corn, but not when a cow I later eat spent its pitiful life eating corn-nastiness mush, I'm just saying...I am someone who will spend the time picking a miniscule living beetle out of my rice before cooking because I think it is gross, I am guessing you probably would too. If I am going to go out of my way to kill one beetle the size of my smallest freckle, I will certainly consider what types of chemicals are entering my body.  And I will no long be half-assed about it.  There may be some exceptions while I am in Senegal, but I live by the "what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger" theory when I am on this side of the ocean.  There may be some funkiness in my cat's food, but unlike Americans, Senegalese have not forgotten that what goes into your meat will also go into you. I trust the meat here, unless it is the imported stuff, I do not want that.

*Sigh* I will miss you bacon, egg, and cheese. I know that we spent many a good all-nighters together in college, but the time has come that I move on. From now on I will be replacing you with this guy, he is much cuter than you, but surely not tastier...

PS. Do not expect any booty calls, I respect you more than that.

Tomorrow is the start of another week. In preparation for the car horns that will wake me up around 7 AM, I leave you with Wasis Diop :)

Sipping on Espresso and Contemplating a VERY Important Question...

You may be curious, what is this very important question nagging at the back of my mind...Well here it is, why do restaurants in Senegal insist on calling espresso "expresso?"  This very serious spelling error makes me feel like I am working at the cellar pub on the HWS campus.  Every Smithie that ever ordered an iced latte seemed to add an extra shot of "expresso," *sigh*.  An iced latte is a silly enough drink, including such a terrible mispronunciation to your order just adds insult to injury. I know, I am being such a whiner, but get it right!

Isn't this just great?! I guess some of my Aunts were involved in the Suffrage Movement nearly 100 years ago, maybe they drew this?! Kidding, kidding...

As I am spending my day baffled by the pronunciation of a caffeinated drink, the average Senegalese is spending theirs discussing the upcoming elections.  Senegal has (minimally) made International news in the past few weeks.  A Google search of "Senegal Elections" returned less than one hundred English articles three weeks ago, now you would get over 1000 hits, however.  This is all because Abdoulaye Wade, the country's (nearly) 86 year-old president wants to run for another 7-year term.  Sorry buddy, you have already served two, and YOU instituted the law prohibiting any president to serve more than two terms.  He claims that his age makes him wise, I say you are a completely disconnected, rich, blundering idiot.  The night it was announced that his bid was accepted Dakar erupted.  Now, I am sure much of this was not reported by US media because a Muslim country with controlled, and relatively peaceful protests is just unthinkable, right?

There are no bombings, deaths have been minimal (although very significant for this peaceful country), and the youth is organizing because they are fed up.  My parents heard nothing  about the protests watching US news, and I was baffled.  Even the French have been closely following this! Although, as I said, a peaceful uprising of a Muslim community could never be shown on major US networks.  The articles I skimmed by ABC, CNN, etc. online all claimed that protests were banned during the weekend that the candidates were confirmed.  Yes, they were banned, but by the time you published your article, that mandate had been reversed more than 48 HOURS AGO.  Idiots.

Despite all of this, I am a bit nervous, simply because elections in the US are so different.  I went to eat dinner the other weekend, but the road I need to go down was blocked by burning tires, needless to say I ate somewhere else.  I also have seen more soldiers carrying AK-47s than I ever wish to see again in my life.  Guns just terrify me. I do not care what country I am in, if I see a gun I get all squirmy.  These soldiers are strategically placed to prevent violent uprisings, and fortunately they have not had to do too much.

Life goes on as normal in Dakar, and as an outsider it is interesting to see how things are evolving here.  The real test will come when the election results are released.

The weather has been lovely here, and my two sweaters I brought have been getting a lot of use the past month or so.  I do miss the cold, snowy months of winter, but for one year I suppose it is okay, especially when the cold weather is minimal. I would be very unhappy if I were home and it was 50˚ in February, that is just not acceptable.

Well, I am counting down until the end the second trimester as my arrival in the US will seem imminent at that point.  First thing I will be eating? Any and everything that is baked in an oven!  Also, I will surely take up my habit of berry picking once I arrive in the Finger Lakes :D

Time to go home and face the beast...Rafiki!

Hopefully this SGK fiasco spread light on the BS of "pink" products...

I need to reread Pink Ribbons, Inc.

Back in DAKAR and Quite Chilly!

While writing I am paying tribute to a phenomenal singer, Etta James, who passed away today. I feel it only fitting to post one of her most famous and lovely songs on my blog in her honor...sing it girl!

What a phenomenal voice.  I am always aspiring to have a powerful/smoky/sexy voice like Ella and so many other artists...If nothing else, trying to realize this dream is fun for me.  My neighbors might hate me, but they probably do not even know what I am singing, unless it is Beyoncé, in which case they probably still do not know what I am saying, ha!

Today was cold! Right now, in fact, it is 66˚ outside and earlier today is was very windy, so I tried to stay bundled.  Of course, I am not complaining about this chilly weather, more just pointing out that it is no loner in the 90˚s, hooray! Winter has officially arrived! Tomorrow is supposed to be 81˚, however, so I probably should not whip out my fur coat yet.  Or ever.

Hydrobase, Saint Louis

I am officially settled in Dakar after an all too short winter break, and tutoring has started back up with classes at ISD.  Getting back in the normal grind of things has been pretty easy, and I hit the halfway point between my arrival in August and my departure in June (*snoopy dance*).  Five months from today I will be back in the US and concocting plans for my next adventure, whatever that may be.  I applied to be a TA in France for next year, but decisions regarding my application will not come out until April.  If I am not offered the job I plan to explore the wine industry and what it has to offer, as I expect that this is where I will be happy :)  

If I have learned one thing from my job at ISD, never take a job just because of the money or stability unless you really enjoy it.  I realize not everyone has this luxury, but many people do.  All too often we become obsessed with making money as opposed to being happy.  I do believe that the stability deriving from a paycheck is a factor in happiness, but it should not be of central importance.  If there is one thing I did right in college it was choosing majors/minors that fit my interests as opposed to my future career.  That being said, my BA is quite useful in what I am doing...I use French daily, so that is a no-brainer (French M), I am constantly turning critical eye to the gender constructs around me (Women's Studies M), I live in a Muslim country (Religious Studies m), and I just enjoy art, particularly patterns I see around me (Art History m)...see mom and dad, it was worth the 4 years! One sentence is certainly not enough time to argue why I could not be happier with my degree, but it will have to suffice :D

Perhaps the best "Welcome back to Dakar!" gift I got was the day off for MLK day.  With my extra day I traveled up to Saint Louis to spend the weekend in the city I love so dearly.  It was the first time I had made it up to Saint Louis since I arrived in August, so the trip was long overdue.  I spent most of my time with the HWS students that are studying abroad the semester.  We walked around Saint Louis a bit so they could get a grip on where everything is and I enjoyed walking on the streets I had not been to for a year.  I was even surprised when I ran into my friend Christian, he works at the door of one of the nice bars in town.  Per usual, he invited me to Church with him (I politely declined) and asked how I was doing.  It is always nice to see familiar faces, even when you have been gone so long :)

Of all the fun things I did last weekend, I was amused to no end by the tiny frogs that were occupying the shower...they were just so cute! I, of course, had to take a picture of one of the little guys.

My shower buddy!

The toughest part of the journey to and from Saint Louis, was exactly that...the to and the from.  Traveling cheaply in Senegal is never much fun, but on a tight budget it is often necessary, haha.  For 6+ hours I was squished in a van with 14 other people on my way to "Ndar," Wolof for Saint Louis.  Getting out of the van is the best part, and closing the door is the worst part.  We all officially became sardines when we risked sitting on top of each other if we wiggled in our seats.  Fortunately, I had room to lean forward on the seat in front of me, so I saved my back!  This will be good practice for Morocco in April.  I plan to take the bus to Morocco, the main question will not be how many hours is the trip, but how many days?  If you were curious, I do occasionally ask myself, "why am I doing this?" only to come up with the response, "well, why not?!"

How I got to Saint Louis...

Side note: I cooked with 8 cloves of garlic last night and my finger tips still smell, seriously?! Phooey, I am a stinky Italian chef, haha

Alright, I am out...happy weekend!