Last Tuesday, I was one busy chicita preparing for my presentation. The highlight of my day was eating lunch with one of Claudine’s friends named Jules. When we were finished and talking afterwards, I perused through a copy of the Coran lying next to me. I saw a couple of things which troubled me in it. I’m no scholar in theological studies, but it was the first sacred text I read that spoke of other religions negatively (it actually names Christianity and Judaism). The passages about how to treat a women were also an interesting read…feminists must boil when reading the Coran! Since I didn’t read it from cover to cover (and have no intention to), I feel it isn’t my place to expand on this subject any further.
My presentation on Wednesday went relatively well even though half the people weren’t even present and it started two hours later than initially planned (at nursing staff’s request). I printed the handouts at the very last minute – as usual and reminded myself at how terrible a student I am since I’m always last minute…its pathological! When the presentation finally started, I was surprised to see that my supervisor, Abba, attended which I found was a good thing. Maybe one day, he’ll give me feedback. He repeated most of what I said which seemed to help the people present understand the concepts more clearly. I found it quite funny because he pretty much repeated verbatim but with his accent. I ended up eating lunch at 5 pm!
After work the next day, I organized the first ultimate baptism. I started this sport while studying at McGill and have played more or less ever since. Seeing that it was only recently invented, it hasn’t spread to this part of the world yet. Two of my team mates in Ottawa own a company that makes the discs. They gave me a stack of new discs to promote the sport here. Exciting! Its been difficult trying to organize something but I did it on last Thursday. Many people at the park joined in and its surprising how fast some people learn to throw + catch the disc. Towards the end, we even did a little scrummage as I added more and more rules (which thereafter got translated). Not easy! It was mostly boys who were interested – but all ages! I had little guys about 7 years old and full grown men. I’ll be trying to do weekly practices…
My last full day in Dakar was the one I had been waiting for since I got to Senegal: scuba diving! MC and I had one dive scheduled in the afternoon and one night dive. So, in the morning, I took it easy and washed my clothes in a WASHING MACHINE! After a light lunch, we headed to the scuba place. The equipment was more or less enticing. There was one other diver + the guide on our excursion. They never checked our certification cards… Our boat was quite small compared to the choppy water we crossed to reach our diving destination: Ile de Goree (again).
(Image left: ready, set, go! myself on the left and MC on the right)
I found the courage to back flip in the water with my
equipment donned and so many mon
ths since my last dive.
The guide was a little brisk and I couldn’t take my time which was not very appreciated. MC had a harder time than I and ended up panicking once she got in the water. The equipment nor the staff inspired confidence. She ended up waiting in the boat while the three of us dove. The visibility was terrible compared to what I got used to in Jamaica last winter. I didn’t like my weights and the way they were distributed around me body. The colors and sea life were rather dull. The dive site was a 60 foot long transport boat from Holland which went down during WW2. It was very intimidating up close and since it was so old, it was hard to discern the parts of the boat. After about ten minutes being down, still trying to adjust my buoyancy, my equipment sort of mal-functioned and I involuntarily ascended. Indeed, I couldn’t deflate my vest! If you are a diver, you know that this is bad news and can be very harmful if you were deep. Fortunately, I was only 30ish feet deep. The guide didn’t even notice that I was having trouble. Once at the top, the guy waiting in the boat yelled at me in Wolof and I yelled back to him in French saying his equipment was shitty. Once we got it working again, I redescended for the rest of my dive. I saw eels, ugly fish, big schools of small fish, many puffer fish and some prettier fish. Nothing that made me want to go back down in the dark. MC was more than happy to cancel our night dive as well.
On Friday, all us Quebequers had our last meal together at lunch in a familial fast food restaurant. I had a 3-cheese panini! Wow! Next, it was back to the ferry in direction for my Casamance. Oddly enough, I did not sleep well on the boat. Its weird but the bad air quality in Dakar hurt my nose! I have sores in my nostrils which hurt and itch. Ahh the weird ailments you succumb to when in Africa!
I was happy to be back in Ziguinchor even though there isn’t as much to do. I shouldn’t say that because on Saturday evening, I attended a wedding! The couple (Omer & Julie) with whom Claudine lived with the first time she came here got married. I believe I’ve already spoke of Omer since he made us supper and also created my batik sarouel- which I have yet to take a picture of!
(Image right: Omer & Julie in the glory of their externalizing day. The art in the background is Omer's batik. If you are in love, tell me and I can have you make you some. He makes curtains, clothing, bags, etc.)
Julie is French and Omer is Senegalese Christian. They married civilly and celebrated at their home; actually on a nearby street (and when I say street I mean the typical dirt road with animals, garbage piles and children playing soccer in it). They set up a tent with huge speakers and the whole neighbourhood attended. There was a djola music band and professional dancers. It was amazing to see the people dance! I have videos to show once I get home. These people really know how to have a good time! I didn’t dance because I wasn’t dressed for it and primarily because I don’t know how! Next time I’ll try, promise!
(Image left: Approaching the wedding scene. This street is called "Boulevard Alpha"...yes, it is a boulevard according to Zig standards!)
They served a decent meal to all their invitees which must have been about 150 people. Their yard and home were jam packed for supper. And the party continued well into the night. Present with me was the usual Claudine and Marie-Claude but also another Quebequoise called Stephanie who lived where I do now last year. Indeed, she was last year’s rehab therapist. She fell in love with a Senegalese soccer player and recently returned here to visit him. I had only briefly met her once before leaving in Canada. While eating supper, she explained to me that she had trouble with Astou as well…
(Image right: a happy groom dancing with his buddies)
The wedding was great fun but I was sort of a party pooper and got to bed before midnight. The next day, I decided to empty out my luggage (which, if you’ve been reading the blog attentively, you know is where I keep my clothes) to air everything out and tidy up. It was like spring cleaning and the entire cleanup took me a good two hours! It seemed like an appropriate time to do the clean up since my voyage to Dakar marked the midway point of my time here; both time wise but especially emotionally.
Taking a week’s break from the job and having a break from my little routine enabled me to put things into perspective and evaluate what I’ve accomplish so far during my time here as well as what goals I
have yet to work towards.
(Image left: therapy gym at hospital. I do my OT at the back on the round table)
All in all, this has been a fantastic experience so far. At work, I’d like to develop more tools so that my contributions here will endure. More specifically, this means:
- presenting the existing re-invented assistive devices to the Association of Physically Handicapped People of Ziguinchor
- re-inventing the long-handled reacher
- creating or buying more therapeutic equipment
- developing initial evaluation forms that are more specific to OT work but that the kinesitherapists will be able to use once I’m gone
- re-inventing more assistive devices
- educating staff and end-users about the assistive devices
- completing more professional development projects:
- finishing the pressure ulcer formations
- advancing the hospital porters’ formation (including presenting their case to the hospital administration so that they can get decent equipment to work with and maybe better work conditions)
- teaching more about OT to the kinesitherapists
Personally, my goals are to:
- teach ultimate frisbee to my fellow Africans!
- learn how to do batik clothe tainting
- visit more of Casamance
- eat crocodile, wild pig and porcupine meat (not all at once!)
- learn how to cook Senegalais meals
- drink palm wine
- learn how to carry a baby African style
- learn how to dance the Mballa + Djola
- try to learn how to carry a bucket of water on my head
- get my hair extended + braided (like all the women here)
Uhh… hope that was interesting for you. Its good for me to have it down in writing! So after my literal + mental spring cleaning, I went to the Kadiadoumagne Hotel for the internet because I had to prepare for my upcoming pressure ulcer presentation. MC had supper at my place and we escaped for a glass of wine to my newly discovered hang out: the roof of my home.
(Image right: me typing this blog on the roof)
Returning back to work… I was happy to be on vacation and didn’t really feel like going back, but once I got there, I was so thrilled to do my job again. I was happy to see that two of my very limited patients had progressed. It was a great day in my life as an OT! I did a home visit and brought my newly re-invented bed helper. It worked like a charm for my elderly lady with hemiplegia; a very satisfying experience indeed!
(Image left: a funny little man who jumped in front of my camera! Kids really like getting photographed)
After work, I tried on my new boubou for Tabaski. Since I’ll probably only wear it once in my life, I won’t waste time getting it altered… In the evening, I had dinner at Claudine’s friend, GB’s house. He never cooks but he made the exception and cooked us up a storm! We also gave Claudine’s brother, Abu, the one who made our boubous his occidental clothing from Dakar as a gift. He was thrilled and it’s a shame his smile wasn’t eternalized in a picture :(
Friday, November 21, 2008
On Wednesday, I visited Anne-Marie`s place of work and was very impressed with her OT kingdom. She actually has a Occupational Therapy room that is filled with therapeutic devices and that locks up! I loved spending the day with her and seeing her work. It was great to exchange professional experiences and discuss her cases. I gave her some good ideas and I gained many excellent ideas from her. I wish we could shadow fellow professionals in the same field more easily… Just because I have the diploma doesn`t mean I know everything; there is so much to learn by just watching someone else do the same work. Oh well. I can`t wait for her to come to my place of work :)
(Image left: MC and I on top of Ile Goree. Lots of arts & crafts souvenirs for sale. Very picturesque. Everyone kept on asking us if we were twins that day. In looking at this photo, I now understand why...we were dressed the same! - we are used to getting asked if we are sisters though...) In the afternoon, MC and I visited Dakar`s most important tourist attraction: l’Île de Gorée. It is a small habitable island about a fifteen minute ferry ride from Dakar`s downtown port.
(Image right: me in front of a baobab tree. The fruit are called "pain de singe" = monkey bread)
The island was colonised by white people who were involved in the slavery trade. The architecture is totally different from the rest of Dakar – it is like being in Europe! They used the island as the launching point for slave-filled boats bound for the Americas: - Senegal, Dakar and more specifically Gorée are geographically the most westward points in Africa - Gorée being an island (and most Africans don`t know how to swim), escape was impossible Men, women and even children from all over West Africa would be selected for their physical attributes (tall, fit, strong) and kidnapped by the colonisers.
(Image left: view of the island when approaching from Dakar)
They would be sent to launch points like Gorée (there are several of them along the coast but Gorée was one of the biggest) and “stored” in slave houses until sold (on average three months). Their cost was a pitence (man = rifle, women = jewelery, child = miror or button). The slaves were sold according to their weight. If they didn’t make the cut-off line (60 kg for a man), they would be kept at the slave house for a period of time and fattened up. If they didn't behave, they would be tortured. Those who died after torture or from illness were simply thrown in the water, to the sharks. Since the sharks had a steady feed, they hung around the island which decreased the incentive to escape for those who knew how to swim. We visited a slave house they converted into a museum.
(Image right: "La porte du non-retour" = the doorway of no return. This is the doorway the slaves would go through when embarking on the boat for shipping. It faces west.)
Back in the day though, there were many slave houses on the island and many have now been converted into houses or apartments. Visiting the slave house was very humbling. The island was extremely pictoresque; a must see indeed!
When I finally got around to checking my emails, I found out two great things: my brother Patrick and his fiancee Anne-Marie are pregnant with their first!!!! My friend Annie, who is currently doing an internship in Marocco, will be able to take time off while I`m there so we can visit the country together, upon my return home from Senegal!!! Speaking of emails, if you are reading this, I`d love to get news from you EVEN if you consider that nothing is new in your life….
After visiting Joal Fadiout, our little group of gals separated and Marie-Claude, Anne-Marie and I headed off to another coastal town called Popenguine.
(Image left: View from our room with balcony in Popenguine + another dog called Crevette that resembles Cadeau)
We stayed in this charming little place on top of a privately owned home. The view was marvellous and we treated ourselves to homemade sangria = mix cheapest wine with orange nectar juice + an expensive (5000CFA = 12.50 CAD) meal at an Italian restaurant. The next morning, we bought our own bread and fruit and ate it on the beach. Sunday was most likely the biggest day of my trip: two tourist attractions!
(Image right: MC and I eating breakfast on the beach, in our little spot of shade!)
After breakfast, we went to the Réserve Bandia which is a national park in which you can pseudo safari in. After paying the hefty price (about 30$), you get a guided tour in a 4X4 for about two hours. I really enjoyed seeing animals in their natural habitat (minus the dirt roads and us) but would have liked longer stalls to observe the animals.
(Image left: rhinos in Bandia)
Our guide only gave us enough time to get off the jeep and take a couple pictures. Animals I saw included: ostrich, rhinocerausi, antelopes, monkeys, giraffes and big turtles (who happened to be mating). The giraffes impressed me the most… they are really quite beautiful! Marie-Claude and I shared the 4X4 with a group of Italian tourists who were, along with the animals, entertaining to watch and listen to.
(Image right: turtles humping...neither seemed very satisfied when it was over)
When the tour was over, MC, Anne-Marie (who had already done the tour and therefore waited) and Mathieu met up at nearby AccroBaobab. It is an aerial park in baobab trees. I had been to one this summer for the first time in Gatineau. This one was a bit smaller but the fact that it was in baobab trees was awesome. The level of difficulty was exponentially higher for me since I wasn`t wearing appropriate footwear: thong sandles. We were lucky to be the only visitors and so we had undisturbed, spectacular views.
(Image left: in between baobabs)
Security wise, it was adequate but not as anal as the place in Gatineau. I had a great time and realized just how out of shape I am. My arms and shoulders hurt for the next couple of days.
Our return back to Dakar on Sunday night was horrid. The park was in the middle of nowwhere so we had to walk back to civilization which took us over an hour. MC and I shared the joy of lugging a huge backpack we brought for the weekend, filled with useless items. Ouch! Said the shoulders. We were very happy to board a crowded bus and rest our little legs only to get stuck in traffic upon our entrance in Dakar. Apparently this is very normal. 3 hours later, the bus left us god-knows-where in the city with highway-ish roads all around us. So we walked some more along the highway and finally got a taxi to take us home. I slept very well that night :)
(Image right: sunset in the baobab park)
My first activity in Dakar was meeting a fellow Occupational Therapist, Mrs. Plourde, with Anne-Marie (the OT in the same project as me but posted in Dakar) who works privately. To the best of her knowledge, Mrs. Plourde is the only one. She works in mental health and caters mostly to a non-native population – ie: those who can afford her services. She informed us that the first OT faculty is to open up in September of next year in Dakar. So exciting! Her home was beautiful and especially beautifully decorated with art and furniture from all around the world. She is married to a French teacher who teaches in an international network of french high schools. This OT is from Montreal and had previous experience working privately in Montreal. Her practice here is technically illegal since she doesn`t have a work visa. She explained that many occidental professionals work illegally in Senegal which I find alarming. All in all, it was encouraging to see a fellow OT thriving in Africa but her type of practice did inspire anything in me. I don`t really like the idea of white people coming to Africa only to work with more white people and not help those in dire need around them…
After the visit with the OT, Anne-Marie, MC, Claudine and I went out for a shopping spree in Dakar, Marché Sandaga. This market is rather big, busy, noisy and has pretty much everything. We bought occidental clothing for Claudine`s brother Abu, who is making our Tabaski boubous. He doesn`t want us to pay him so we are giving him a nice Thank You gift. I took the opportunity to buy some souvenirs. Write to me and you might actually get some ;) As previously mentionned, evenings were spent cooking up a storm.
On Tuesday, us Zig girls visited Marie-Helene (rehab technician) and Mathieu (technician in orthotics & prosthetics)`s places of work. Unlike us Zig girls, the Dakar team is spread out in different rehab centres. MH works as the Chu de Fann and Mathieu at the CNAO: Centre National d’Appareillage Orthopeadic. Both institutions were extremely impressive in comparison to our hospital in Zig. Bigger, more equipment, more advanced.
After a lunch at the CNAO cafeteria, we headed off to see Rama, the twelve year old girl with whom I shared my room with in Zig. It was cute seeing her again and she seemed happy to be back home. Meeting her family was interesting since I got to put a face to the important people in her life.
I’m back in Ziguinchor. Here is what happened before I left for Dakar – I left this text on my computer without publishing it until now… This dates back to the week of October 20, 2008 – yikes!
(Image right: shells from Joal Fadiouth)
Tuesday, I woke up with a sore throat and did not go to work. I rested the entire day. My biggest adventure of the day was when I got locked into my bathroom. Yes, the doorknob’s spring had broken and there was no getting out. Nabu, the helper lady here had to come to my rescue (after she had stepped out for about ten minutes). Its bad luck, but I could think of worse things that can happen to me…
The rest of the work week was short. Taking Tuesday off really cuts the week up and shortens it. You should try it sometime! After my first day back at work, I was honoured to have a taste of home at Claudine`s as she prepared Shepard`s Pie for supper. Cooking here takes planning, time and a good back. Firstly, you have to go to the market and pick everything up individually. Given that it was Shepard`s Pie, this wasn`t so complicated; but still! Ketchup is only sold in two stores here. Also, you have to buy your meat from the butcher and then go to the other end of the huge market and get it grounded. I say that cooking takes a good back because all the work is done on little benches – so you`re either bent over or squatting forward. It was a fun evening and interesting to see the Senegalese eat a foreign dish.
Thursday after work, I rested a bit and then went to a park to play soccer with one of my collegue`s teams. He had talked to me about it weeks ago and I finally no longer had my foot problem, it wasn`t raining And my throat felt a bit better. All systems a go! – Except for the cold sore at the corner of the mouth… I had trouble finding the park and the idea of doing sport again had almost become a foreign concept since I haven`t done any since July! Well my friends, I played real soccer game with 20 other men! There was even a referee (dressed in a business suit…) I must say, it took balls since I was the only female and the only white person. I felt like quite the outcast given the demographics. Fortunately, the men reacted quite well to my playing with them.
They didn`t stop themselves from giving their 100% and they didn`t make an extra effort to pass the ball to the girl. In short, they didn`t make a big deal about me playing with them which was very much appreciated. I can`t say I played very well since they were four times faster than me, six times stronger than me and twice as big as me. On the other hand, I must say, I find I positionned myself quite well throughout the game. I don`t think I`ve ever sweat so much in my life. My bra was literally drenched. All in all, it was a good experience and I think I`ll be repeating it in the near future. After the game, I went to Marie-Claude`s and showered before going to a newly opened resto for supper.
Halloween on Friday!! My favorite festivity of the year!! The girls and I had intricate plans to celebrate Halloween at work. We often come up with plans since we have nothing else to do or talk about… Anyways, turns out Friday morning, I was the only motivated one to carry through.
(Image right: Claudine and me dressed up; in the centre, Abab the janitor in a normal boubou)
Thankfully, my enthusiasm was contagious and spread to the two others. We got dressed inside out and backwards in similar clothes and drew a third eye on each of our foreheads with my eyeliner. I had bought candy and gave it to all my collegues + anyone who asked for an explanation for our strange clothing. Some of our collegues were more motivated than others. Tonka was the cutest! He wanted a third eye drawn on his forhead two but because of his skin color, it was very difficult to see...Tonka works at the other end of our building alongside MC. He is a do-it-all man who doesn`t have any professional formation but who can build or repair just about anything. He`s also a good dancer!!
We were hyper and it made the day very amusing. Claudine and I had a professional formation session with the hospital porters in the morning. Presenting in ridiculous clothing made it hilarious. Hopefully, they will take us seriously during our future formation sessions. Many of my patients didn`t show up for some reason which was fine by me given that it was Friday.
(Image left: Tonka, Claudine, MC and I)
After lunch, Marie-Claude and I went for a swim at the pool where we had met the hot lifeguard. Unfortunately, he wasn`t there L What WAS there were little aquatic insect creatures swimming in the cloudy water… Given that I`m in Africa and my hygiene standards are a lot lower, I swam anyways. I rinsed afterwards and nothing bad came of it. I`m nearing the end of my thriller/horror Christopher Pike book and it is enthralling!
Not much to do in this city on a Friday night. We actually had a conversation about this… there isn`t much in terms of cultural outings here. Instead of spending time in cafes and museums, people here simply spend time with each other doing pretty much nothing. I guess that’s part of the reason why they don`t have a very developed tourism industry here. (The other part being political instability).
On my way back home with Marie-Claude, we bought all we needed for a fruit salad which we ended up making for my family. When I got home, Astou had arrived from Dakar. Although nothing much happened and we put smiles on when we saw each other, I still get the negative vibes from her. She doesn`t say anything that`s outright mean, but she seems to always speek negatively to me or laugh at my expense. My goal now is to ignore the negative remarks and be as nice as possible to her irregardless.
My third weekend in Cap Skirring was wonderful; as usual. I mostly spent it with Marie-Claude`s roomate, Sabine. She is a retired elementary school teacher from Germany who is here on her own will to learn about the education system. She is such an interesting lady! She has a PhD in Sociology and converted to teaching later on in her career which explains her ongoing passion for it. We left Zig Saturday morning and shared an Air-Conditioned room together. AC: wow! MC, Claudine, her friend Bass, Sabine and myself spent the day toge
ther.
(Image right: Bass making Senegalais tea on the beach for us)
Saturday evening was perfect (almost). We watched the sunset at the little resto on the beach I had first bee
n to, sipping on beer mixed with fanta (surprisingly good!). We actually had two rounds before heading back up to town to go to an occidental restaurant. I had Spaghetti Carbonara and a chocolate mousse. Turns out, I`m no longer used to my north american diet and this meal made me sick. I ate too much, too rich. Sabine said before I ran for the toilet, my face turned white, then green. Fortunately, my sickness was momentary and the next morning, I was 100%.
(Image left: Sabine expressed that she found the sun too intense and hot so Claudine and I set her up with a home made parasol: my hat. It was hilarious. Also visible on this photo is my ever-growing tire. Not visible due to the angle, is my ever-growing djaifunday = butt in wolof)
Sabine and I took a long walk on the beach with the pursuit of our interesting conversations. Before turning back, we had glasses of juice at one of the fancy hotels with a view to die for. During the pleasant walk, I visited a lady with a house on the beach regarding a place to stay for when Phil will be here. Turns out I found something that looks perfect. I can`t wait to spend my time with my lover there! We`ll have a private little room + cute bathroom with access to a full kitchen.
The week of October 27 was a short work weeks since I left for Dakar on Thursday. After work on Monday, I accompanied the girls to a doctor visit since Claudine’s foot was severely infected. I’m glad she got help because it was pretty nasty looking. We consulted in an independent medical office and the doctor was a nice lady. For a reason we still haven’t found out, she did not charge a fee. While in the doctor’s office, I weighed myself for the first time since my departure. I think I have a healthier lifestyle in Canada since I have officially lost weight and obviously gained volume. This unfortunately means that muscle has turned into fat.
(Image right: back to the future...In Joal, while we waited for each girl to shower, we entertained ourselves in our little motel room set up for the five of us. Myself, MC and Marie-Helene)
After the doctor’s visit, I went to the store to buy my tissue/material for my next boubou. Indeed, I’ll be needing a new boubous since a very important muselman holiday is coming up at the beginning of December: Tabaski.
Apart from my sore throat which flared up again and a SECOND cold sore which appeared, this pretty much wraps up the end of this chapter.
It appears I have gotten behind in my blogging!Since memory fails me, I'll skip to the highlights. I think I already wrote about Halloween – I'll post it later. And Cap Skirring too? I'll need to check this once I get back to Zig.
Last week was a very short work week since I left for Dakar on Thursday. Wednesday night, we went out to a discotheque for the first time since our arrival! Our evening started off with a bottle of wine in a bar near the hospital, meeting up with friends and eating a fataya for supper. Around midnight, we headed off to the Bombalong Night Club – the most popular night club in Zig. I thoroughly enjoyed myself: dancing to the West African music with people who actually know how to dance! It was grand. When the party was over, instead of going out for poutine, we stopped by a bakery and ate a baguette fresh out of the oven. Delicious! I slept at Marie-Claude's house since in anticipation that coming back home in the middle of the night in my family might be complicated.
(Image right: chez Marie-Claude's - Astou)
In the morning, before taking the boat, we slept in and then made chocolate crepes for breakfast. Going to work wasn't worth it since we had to be at the docks at noon. The boat ride was a BLAST! I enjoyed every second of it – especially the parts when the dolphins were swimming beside us.
A little explanation about the ferry: It is a modern ferry, named Aline Sitoe Diatta, which goes between Dakar and Ziguinchor twice per week. The reason it is so modern is because it has replaced the Djola which in 2002, sank. The Djola was a tragedy and the emotional wounds are still healing for many Senegalais to this day. As with all modes of transportation here, the Joola was jam packed with people and luggage.1863 people died and there were less than 10 survivors. The max capacity for the boat was about 1000 people. Many people died because the rescue mission was so slow – it took authorities over 13 hours to get to the sight and provide help.
So the ferry ride was extremely pleasant and filled with safety features. It was 15 hours long so we slept in couchettes which were very comfortable. We got to Dakar around seven and dropped off our luggage at the Centre L'Abri, where our collegues from Canada live. Next, we headed to the Ministere de l'Interieur to get our visas extended. It was very anti-climactic seeing as how this was purpose for going to Dakar... We were flately greeted by administrative arses who took our documents, stamped a couple papers, gave us a 3cm X 6 cm slip of paper with a processing number on it and told us to return in 15 days. We explained that we could not come back in 15 days since we live in Zig. They basically told us tough luck and yelled at us because we were taken up room in their office.What morons. The story for now is that they will supposedly send us the minister's response as to our request to prolong our visas. Meanwhile, we have this tiny slip to prove that we have made the effort to extend our expired visas. So far, nobody has asked to show our visas and I hope nobody does for the rest of my trip...
The same day, we met up with Anne-Marie (the Dakar OT) and Marie-Helene (the Dakar kine) to go to Joual-Fadouth, coastal twin towns about 150km (3 hours because of trafffic) out of Dakar. Visiting another part of the country was very exciting, especially seeing as how the tourism industry is much more developped here. It feels 5-10 years ahead of Casamance. We arrived in Joual at the end of the afternoon and settled in for a nice evening meal and a bottle of wine. The five of us shared a hotel room to decrease costs.
(Image right: Cemetery island in Fadouth; pirogue on the right, boabab trees in the distance, mounds of shells)
One of the main highlights of my week in Dakar has been the food. I've eaten almost everything I've been craving for the past two months.
(Image left: our nice girlie dinner in Joal, at our campement - two kinds of fish, Senegalais couscous and potatoe gratin - a first!)
Dairy products here are readily available and fresh! There are grocery stores and lots of variety. I truely feel like a villager in a big city! I know I always talk about food in my blog and I will refrain for the rest of this entry. But it pleases me so much to have eaten: milkshakes, filtered coffee, a loaf of bread, muslix, yogurt, pears, cheese, gratined potatoes, brocoli, mushrooms, etc. AND to have cooked in a normal kitchen where I can stand up! I know you get the picture, but let it be said that gastronomy made my week!
So on our Saturday, we visited Fadouth, a Christian village made out of shells. We walked from Joal to Fadouth (about 15 minutes) and were greeted by a guide who gave us a tour of their community.
(Image right: a hut for smurfs... just kidding. This is actually a mini hut on a surface of land that gets flooded during high tide. Each family of ancestors had one hut like this one in which they stored food. Pretty neat, huh? I'm too lazy to upload another photo which shows dozens of them placed haphazardly in close proximity)
Fadouth is actually a man made island surrounded by a network of rivers with many mangroves. Since shellfish grow on mangroves, the ancestors and townfolk to this day, cultivate the shellfish for food and dump the shells on the island to make it grow.Its a wacky idea but its true. The town was constructed in this isolated (island) fashion by Christians who wanted to keep their faith in an ever-growing Muselman world. Joal Fadouth is reknowned for its the Christion-Muselman cohabitation and cooperation. All villagers to this day help each other build their houses. Muselmans helped build the church, conversely, Christians helped build the Mosque. There was also an extension to the village which is the cemetary - apparently the only one in the ?world? that is for Muselmans and Christians.
Last weekend before last, we went to Abéné, a small village close to Kafountine. I thoroughly enjoyed it as it was even more peaceful than any coastal village I’ve seen in Africa yet. We first took a bus to Kafountine which was nicer than the stationwagons (taxi 7 places). BUT on the final leg of the journey, the driver kept on packing more and more people in. The bus tightly seats 18 people. At one point, we counted 28 people (roughly 280 toes)!!! It was crammed and hot. We were more than happy to get out. To get to the village, we had to take an expensive taxi ride through dirt roads. It was well worth it though. Our campement was the nicest I’ve seen yet. There were two rooms with private bathrooms to a hut and the huts were spread out in a beautiful garden. There were pillows, 2 sheets (bedspread + sheet) instead of just one and in our private bathroom, there was toilet paper and towels! What also made it unique is that there is no electricity. At night, they give you candles and lanterns. Normally, this would be a turn off, but it fits right in with this isolated and charming place.
(Image left: the chairs and lantern just outside our circular hut)
Claudine brought her brother, Famara (22 years), along. He studies in Dieuloulou which is a town between Ziguinchor and Kafountine. He was a pleasant fellow to
travel with. Claudine’s family is big: 6-7 children from the same parents + the father is polygamous so there are 1-2 children outside that marriage. Back to Famara: it was nice to have him around because the beach rasta men would leave us alone once they saw we were with him. On Sunday, I tried to teach him how to swim in the ocean. It is alarming that for a population who has such easy access to the ocean, nobody knows how to swim! When you ask them why, it`s not because they are scared, its just its not in their school curriculum and no
body has ever taught it to them.
(Image right: you can't see the ocean from the dining area, but this is the little path leading to the beach within the gardens)
On Saturday, I had the delight of waking up late and spening the day in paradise.
(Image right: us in the dining room about to eat a delicious grilled fish)
I guess I talk lot about food because eating structures my day and takes up a huge portion of it. Also, restaurants here are not like at home; you have to tell them in advance that you are coming and what you want. For example, on Friday night, we told the lady at the campement that we would be eating breakfast and lunch. In the morning, it took us at least 1.5 hours to eat and a good 2 hours for our afternoon meal. Both were really really good by the way. All of us hit the beach for
the day. I had a date with my book J I also took a very long walk on the beach (based on landmarks, it must have been close to 8 km). The beach goes on and on, so I never made it to the end. Apparently I was about a 1 hour walk from reaching our neighbour country,the Gambia!
After a much appreciated shower and a beautiful sunset, we got picked up and brought to a local man’s house for supper. Indeed, Claudine had treated a patient who had invited us to his home.
(Image left: gardens at the hotel between my room and the beach)
He was very sweet to us: picked us up + dropped us off with vehicle, bought us pop to drink, played music for us, taught me how to play music, fed us, etc. Come to think of it, he was not at all a talkative guy though! He played an instrument called the Bongo which is a round, half-balloon-like thing with thin wood to tap on and metal prongs to pluck. In other words, it is like a cross between a tam tam and a guitar. It sounded beautiful, like rain falling in the jungle. There were a bunch of his friends there too but nobody talked; we all just listented to him sing and play until supper was ready.
After a delicious meal and some vegging, we were escorted back home but not with the same guy/vehicle as before.
(Image left: the beach in front of the hotel - the Gambia in the distance - not visible)
This time, a bus picked us up! We drove so slowly on the potted roads in the night with music blasting and our heads bobbing because of the rough ride. For some reason, we stopped to pick up/drop off/talk to people as they usually do. This time, they exchanged drivers. Oh well. We continued for five more minutes along the road until we stopped again. This time, the police were behind us and asking for the driver’s papers; hewas unable to produce them. Our host, who was accompanying us, was as surprised as we were (but surely more relaxed). Since I couldn’t understand the spoken language, I don’t know exactly what was happening. The driver got put in the police truck which left and two policemen with huge rifles got out to make sure we wouldn’t go anywhere. Golly, did their guns freak me out! My interpretation is that the driver said his papers were back home so he got in the police truck to go fetch them. Turns out everyone remained calm and the driver returned about 20 minutes later. We were happy to get out of the bus and be back at our motel!
That night, as it was the previous one too, the sky was AMAZING to look at. I saw three shooting stars!!! We gazed seated on wooden african chairs which we normally find too reclined. On Friday night, we had layed down on the beach to stargaze. I had an ab workout when Marie-Claude tipped with her chair while watching a shooting star… The chairs weren’t so stable and I had nearly tipped with mine previously during the day. As she was pointing to the star, her arm extended a little too far and she fell on top of Famara. Ha! And no, we had not had an iota of alcohol to drink.
(Image right: Marie-Claude and I - no the background is not a painting!)
Sunday, I continued my vacation in paradise. Beach, read, swim, shower, eat, relax. The return to Ziguinchor was uneventful. Once in the city, in a taxi driving us home, we got caught in noxious fumes. A big football game had just finished and one of the teams (or supporters?) released gas to piss the other team off. It must have been terrible being at the stadium because I was at least a km away and it made my eyes water and my throat scratch.
Monday at work was long because I didn’t have the energy I normally have and could feel a sore throat coming on. It was a special day at the hospital because Mrs. Wade visited. Mrs. Wade is the first lady and she’s apparently white (French). I didn’t see her talk as I had patients to see. At one point, a handful of imposing uniformed men came into my therapy area and told me (and the other therapists who were more hidden) to not release our patients because they wanted to show our work to Mrs. Wade. They hardly spoke French so I didn’t quite understand them until a co-worker explained after they left. Obviously, when I was done with my patients, I released them! What a stupid request! On top of it, Mrs. Wade never visited our department… It seems the entire hospital wanted to impress her: before her arrival, they cleaned and trimmed everything. After work, we headed downtown for lunch, bank and to buy our boat tickets for Dakar. I can’t wait to take the boat!!! Apparently its very comfortable, offers beautiful views of the coast and you can see dolphins!!!
the next day, I organized the first ultimate baptism. I started this sport while studying at McGill and have played more or less ever since. Seeing that it was only recently invented, it hasn’t spread to this part of the world yet. Two of my team mates in 
