In The Shadow of The Sun

A view of Dakar from Goree Island

Two kinds of life, two situations: anyone who finds himself for the first time in an American supermarket, one of those gigantic, unending malls, will be struck by the richness and variety of the goods assembled there, by the presence of every conceivable object that man has ever invented and produced, and subsequently transported, stowed and piled up, all of which results in the customer not having to think about anything-the thinking was done for him earlier, and now he has everything ready and at hand.

The world of the average African is different indeed. It is a lean world, of the very simplest, most elementary sort, reduced to several objects: a single shirt, a single bowl, a handful of grain, a sip of water. Its richness and diversity are expressed not in a material, concrete, palpable and visible form, but in the symbolic values and meanings that the African imparts to the most mundane things, imperceptible to the uninitiated on account of their utter ordinariness...Africa is a thousand situations, varied, distinct, even contradictory...But much of the underlying variety, this mosaic-this shimmering collage of pebbles, bones, shells, bits of wood, pieces of tine and leaves-has remained. The more closely we stare at it, the better we see how the bits and pieces of this tableau change place, shape, and hue, giving rise to a spectacle staggering in its mutability, richness, pulse of color.

The title of this posting is borrowed from a book called The Shadow of The Sun, which my brother, Daniel, gave me, by Ryzard Kapuscinski. I highly recommend this book for anyone who is interested in learning more about the various countries and people on the African continent. It is beautifully written, incredibly insightful and engaging. This book has captured many of the thoughts and feelings that I have been experiencing since we arrived, particularly concerning the richness of culture and lack of resources that the people here deal with on a daily basis.

It has been difficult for both Noah and I to adjust to the level of poverty that surrounds us everywhere, but especially with those people in our neighborhood, who are becoming our good friends. Directly across the street from us is an extremely fancy 3 story building with four balconies, beautiful glass walls and a complete sidewalk lined with flowers and trees. This may not sound like anything special, but I assumed this was an apartment building and I recently learned that this belongs to a single, rather small family. On our same street, are single level structures that are barely half built, with piles of concrete, sand and rocks in front and a family of 10 or more are living there plus their chickens, goats and sheep.

We were having dinner last night with some new friends, Amy and Jonathan, a couple who both work at the school and live in the school housing, which is in one of the most high-end neighborhoods here in Dakar, where the Club Med is as well. It was strange to be in their apartment, which is totally western, with large, plush couches and a full-size fridge. This is not common here except in the internationally community and with the Senegalese elite. Jonathan made a really great point that helped me assimilate part of my recent conflict. He said first that he would prefer to live where we live, in our neighborhood and house, (yeah, right!) mixing with the locals and learning to speak Wolof. He also said that the difficulty comes when we are living as the locals do, but simultaneously working in a western environment. Making that shift each day back and forth has been rather stressful at times. Noah and I have discussed moving into a more "western" style living situation, but once the rainy season ends, which should be soon, we think we will be happy to stay put.

Some common challenges we face regularly include, but are not limited to: Forced blackouts that occur each night usually between 7 and 10 p.m. but can last up to ten hours. It's happening more and more each day now that all of the foreigners are returning from their holidays and using a great deal of electricity for AC and other appliances. Usually it happens when we are preparing dinner or getting reading for bed. It is extremely warm right now, damp and humid, during the rainy season and we rely on our fans to stay somewhat comfortable. With no fans, it is not easy to sleep and last night we were up late waiting to cool down, only to be woken again at 2:30 am when the electricity went out again. The water also gets turned off periodically, so we have lots of water saved in big bottles and buckets in case this happens. And in this heat, we shower at least twice a day!

Many interesting varieties of bugs and lizards that visit regularly, some are familiar and others have become a whole new education in entomology. Particularly interesting are the wriggly ones that we thought were worms, coming with the rain, only to learn that they are tiny baby snakes that hope to someday make it to adulthood. Thank goodness for Abdoulaye, our roommate, who usually takes over for us in these situations!

Although we lack many of the comforts of home, there is another facet to our life here that tends to overshadow the difficulties. The taranga or hospitality and warmth of the Senegalese people is so overwhelming at times, it catches me off-guard. When I was sick, everyone came to visit, bringing whatever homemade remedies they had to share. Noah and I are finally becoming accustomed to the long, extended Wolof greetings and shaking everyone's hand each time you pass someone you know. If you see someone you know who is with many other people you do not know, it is considered rude if you do not greet and shake everyone's hand. It can take a long time to make your way down the road to the "boutique" to buy a bottle of water or a phone card as you say "naangadef" and ask about the family in at least five different ways!


Papa Mesa's family (he is the director of the ballet and lives across the street from us) has somewhat adopted Noah and I. I often go over there in the evenings and sit in the courtyard on the mats with the women. They give me Wolof lessons, play with my hair, rub lime on my mosquito bites, teach me to cook Senegalese style and talk about things that are not for the men's ears-"girl stuff!"

Because I am a toubab, (a white person) I am welcome into some aspects the men's world, like hanging out, making tea, watching Youssouf Koumbassa videos or even better are the Senegalese music videos. Here, the men and women live very separate lives. Day and night, the men and women have very specific roles and spend most of their time within their gender groups. Women take care of the food, water and children. Men, either work or hang out making tea.