Life After College Graduation

I have to quit my blog for awhile. I’m going home. Cheers to those who read it.

So I was driving my moto the other day, and at a bad traffic jam, I saw a charrette (horse-drawn cart) pulling out at an intersection. The horse tripped a few times and then just fell on its knees. It got back up, but it had a difficult time getting across. I wondered if the owner was taking proper care of the horse. Before that, I had never seen a horse fall like that. Then, I was driving behind a car and something looked very off, very peculiar and for a few minutes, I couldn’t figure out what it was. Finally, I realized that the driver was actually on the right side of the car as opposed to the left. How odd! You’d think there would be some regulation against it (and maybe there is) but I suppose it’s not enforced. Also, it can be pretty scary. Like the other day, a taxi pulled out right as I was about to pass a car rapide, when a taxi pulled out, leaving just enough room for me to squeeze through.

Thus far, I have hit:

2 walls
2 cars

What I could potentially hit:

People
Sheep
Cars
Other motos
Car rapides and buses
Charrettes (horses)
Rollerskaters holding on to the back of cars
Cows
Trees
Cats
Dogs

Thus far, I have managed pretty well, I think. The first time I hit a car, it was a clandestine taxi and I hit it on the rear left side. Of course, someone else had beaten me to causing damage. All the occupants of the car, sauf the chauffeur were staring at me, and he looked straight ahead. So I just waved, and they waved, and he took off.

Second time, a car was to my left and trying to pass me, kind of at my rear wheel, and I went to go around a car rapide, and my kickstand got caught on his head light and yanked it right out. We actually drove a little ways with it stuck on my kick stand. This time it happened right in front of a cop, but he didn’t care enough to even come over and see if everything was alright. Oh, Senegal.

The two walls, I actually happened to hit them both while making it up over a curb. My accelerator is a touch sensitive. The store owner thought it was pretty darned funny that I had made a slight indent in the wall at the entrance of his store. And that was about as far as that went.

One time, I was a bit tired and turned to go down the wrong way of a one way street and I scared this poor bus driver and Rebecca (who was driving her moto behind me) to death. I just kinda turned and went over a little curb to go straight again.

Of course, one day a few weeks ago, I had broken down, and this guy was riding his moto and pushing my moto with his foot over to a mechanician (this is a popular way to help out a fellow motorist) when a cop actually did force us to pull over. So I showed him my vignette (sp?), and the guy who was helping me showed me his. Turned out the cop and the guy were friends, but he pulled me over anyway hoping I didn’t have my information on me so he could get some money. Luckily I had all that covered.

I guess the worst part is breaking down on a regular basis. Though now, at the very least, I am armed with a bougie (spark plug) and a cle bougie (bougie key, used for taking apart that part of the moto and changing the bougie). Though my last big issue was the croeux or the belt that makes the wheel turn. It broke twice, and it was an expensive replacement both times. 10,000 CFAs for one that broke a week later, and then another 10,000 CFA for a good one to get it on the bike. All in all, it was about 40$ repair. The bougie itself has to be replaced every month or so, I think it’s all the dust in the air. Never thought I’d become knowledgeable in moto reparations.

We went out Sat night for Rebecca’s birthday. We first headed out to this great Vietnamese restaurant, Le Hanoi, where I was too full to finish anything. Not quite sure what came over me, it had been hours since I had last eaten, and I hadn’t eaten that much. I was also so pretty tired, but Rebecca had been wanting to go out for weeks, so I forced down some coke and tried to wake myself up. Then, we took off in a cab, picked up her friend, Zita, and headed for a club where Vivian Ndour was going to sing (Youssou Ndour’s sister, for those of you up to date on popular Senegalese music). So going in, the security guard wanded us and then forced me to check in my leftover shrimp at the booth!

At the club, we met three Senegalese friends of Rebecca’s. They seem like the partying time, there was one in particular who liked being center of attention. But we had our little group formed and we were dancing, when all these guys started getting in the middle of it and showing off their moves - and boy can they move! And it was such a stark contrast to this old fart toubab that looked more like an earthquake was happening when he tried to keep the rhythm than someone trying to dance. White men can’t jump AND can’t dance. That should have been the title of that movie. Anyway, the circle got really crazy and everyone was trying to jump in the middle, it started off with the 7 of us and quickled increased to about twenty. Of course, it also quickly ended when the song was over, but it was really funny shouting and encouraging all the people to show everyone what they got.

We ended up waiting a looooong time for Vivian to come out, but when she came out, it was nuts! She was really beautiful and really good. I went and found a stool to sit on, while everyone else was standing and trying to stand on the stairs to get a better view. I was definitely lucky… hehe it was the stool for the security guard, but he didn’t seem to mind.

We finally returned home around 4 in the morning, and I was exhausted. I along with the little shrimps I had to check before being permitted to enter the club. They made good hangover food… gotta replace Wendy’s somehow.

So my computer was fixed! The guy at computer repair shop was quite eccentric. I was so ecstatic they fixed it was I hopping up and down and he was so excited he touched my cheek. It kinda creeped me out, but he was so excited that I was so excited, you could see the satisfaction emanating from his gleeful response. Of course, I was ten times more excited when he asked me who was paying for the part. Well I told him I was of course! But he asked me if an organization or anything like that was paying for it, and of course I told him I was a student! There’s no organization who will pay for my computer repair! And so he charged me about half of what I should have paid! Only in Senegal… so I ran off a happy camper. ; )

This week the new semester started. And of course up until today, at least one prof hasn’t come every day. You know yesterday we didn’t have class because the cleaning lady decided to clean the room? I mean the prof literally walked up to the room, poked his head in, shrugged and walked off. Since when does a cleaning lady take priority over education?? Ack!

I also finally met another Rotary scholar who has come to study in Senegal! He was fob, got in last night/this morning, and I happened to go to the Baobab center today and ran into him. He’s australian, but definitely has another ethnicity. But still, it is so nice to meet someone in my program! I’ve been toute seule this year and it stinks. Next year, there are three! Still, I’m glad it worked out the way it did.

At this point, I think I’m having a crisis over what is next. All these questions and concerns are creeping into my mind, like should I go home when the date is scheduled? Should I stay and try to find a summer job? What happens when I go home? How will I adjust to living there after living here? I’ve created a little life here. How do I leave it? Where do I start when I go back home? How do I cope with how much I have learned? I know so much about Africa that I never knew before. Only crazy people like Stephen would know about juju here. Will my service project be a success? I don’t know…

I met a lovely Rotarian the other day, she’s from San Francisco. She asked me if I could do anything what would I do? No limits. I said I would consult non-profit grass-roots organizations in finding profitable ways to make money in developing countries. I think that would be so much fun! I suppose I could work in micro-financing, but I’m talking like getting into an NGO, providing expertise for a year or so and leave them more financially independent than when I found them. But I don’t know if such a job exists. Oh well it’s a nice thought anyway.