Moonte géj naa fii yagg – You know, I haven’t stuck around here in a long time…

OR:

Man maa jëkk ñëw wante moom moo jëkk jottali xibaar yi – I was the first to arrive, but she was the first to report the news

Amy beat me to writing a first entry, even though I arrived here almost a week before she did. Since I needed a little bit of inspiration, I thought I might as well write about why it is that I’m struggling to put down words about what it feels like for me to be back in Senegal for ten months after having been mostly away for five years.

I’ll start with the obvious details: in the six days before Amy got here, I stayed with Sadio Diallo [pronounced “Saa-joe Jaal-loe”], my closest friend here. Sadio doesn’t have a lot of money. (One thing I’ve been reminded of is how different that definition of ‘a lot of money’ can be here compared to in the U.S., and not just in the sense that most people here are much poorer – but more on that in another post.) He and I shared a single room he just rented in a compound in Ouakam, a diverse and busy neighborhood north of Dakar. The house was basic, and probably squarely in the middle of the range of housing conditions in Dakar. The toilet involved squatting, the shower involved a bucket and a little dance to chase away the cockroaches, and we needed a key to unlock the shared water faucet outside the house. Still there was reliable electricity, water, and plumbing, a very safe neighborhood, and a tiled courtyard that the women renting the neighboring rooms swept sparkling clean every morning.

I was reminded how much longer basic tasks take without many modern conveniences. I was also taken aback by how strongly I reacted to ‘going back to basics.’ I thought: “I’ve done this before. This is supposed to be the easy part. If I’m freaked out by this how am I going to spend time in villages?” I thought: “What kind of place are we going to stay in when Amy gets here?”

And these worries reminded me of another fact of my life here: So much of how you perceive the world comes from your attitude and how comfortable you feel at a very basic, physical level. One of my best friends says that nearly every time he feels pissed off or depressed, it can be linked to being hungry or needing to find a bathroom. Here, I totally agree with my friend. If my stomach is feeling a little weird after taking a malaria pill, a set of simple tasks can seem utterly overwhelming. The to-be-determined storyline of ten months can seem like a depressingly foregone conclusion. Forty minutes later, after a refreshing bucket shower and a spicy bean sandwich, the possibilities can feel thrilling.

So it’s been hard to write because it’s hard to figure out how I really feel about things.

Worries aside, I think my first week here has been successful. One of my professors from Illinois was in Dakar, and he introduced me to two Senegalese researchers who work on forestry issues. They both seem like they will be kind and supportive contacts, although both are incredibly busy. (That's a very consistent element of life!) One of these researchers is my professor's best friend, and has a small house that he offered to rent to us. Two simple rooms, the house needs a little work to get it up to scratch. But we'd have a lovely space to ourselves, a reliable landlord, and very affordable rent. The house appears to be the best deal we could have hoped for! (More on housing as it unfolds) This goes to show how in Senegal, it always helps to know someone.

In the meantime, Amy and I are staying in Village Ngor, a seaside neighborhood and fishing village in the far north of the city. We connected through couchsurfing with an American who teaches at an English-language school in Dakar and are staying in her beautiful apartment – with internet! Couchsurfing is apparently thriving in Dakar, although for some people it’s more of a dating service than a housing search.

It's amazing how much brighter things seem with Amy here! She showed me another reason I make it hard to write about Senegal: I try too hard to find something 'interesting' enough to write about, while taking too many details for granted. On Amy's first morning in Dakar, we strolled out of our host's apartment for a walk. We were stopped by flock of dusty sheep hustling across our path. Right away, Amy looked at me and started laughing giddily. It's so refreshing to be here with someone who sees Senegal as totally new.