Unfortunately, I have now gotten this question TWICE! In fact, one fellow suggested that I had "taken 2 to 3 kilos" in four days! Haha. I have tried to explain that this is most certainly not a compliment in North America, but both gentlemen insist that I look better with "more pounds".
It's easy to gain weight in a country where oil is used like water. Even when I order vegetables, they come dripping in the stuff. And I have fallen in love with aloko. They are a common side dish (as are french fries and those oil rich vegetables) and are deliciously deep fried. In attempting to not get sick again, I am trying to stay away from raw food, which unfortunately increases the amount of oil in my diet.
A petit diet may be in order upon my return - I do have a wedding to be in!
Monday, April 25, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Easter and Islam
Happy Easter from Senegal. It's pretty easy to forget that it's Easter here in Dakar. I don't know a lot about the intersection of Islam with daily life in Senegal, but here is what I do know:
1. According to the CIA World Factbook, Senegal is 94% Muslim;
2. Islam in Senegal and The Gambia is slightly different than other areas of the world. Instead of ordinary believers being directly connected to Allah, in Senegal there are intermediaries between Allah and the commoners; they are called the marabout (pronounced mare-a-boo). The marabout have divine power, and can have significant sway both politically and economically in Senegal.
3. It is not uncommon for families to hand over their young boys to the marabout under the pretense that the children will be given a good education. While I'm sure some are getting a scholarly education, it seems that the majority are simply learning to live on the street. These young boys are everywhere with their tins, begging for money not for them, but for the marabout. It often seems like a good option for families in extreme poverty; and actually many of the boys supposedly come from Guinea-Bissau. It's quite sad...I just looked this up on the internets - the boys are called talibes
4. I live in an area essentially under the control of the Layene brotherhood. Indeed, the area I live in is called Yoff Layene. Their huge, picturesque mosque sits on the beach a five minute walk from my place. For reasons I don't quite understand, because of this mosque, the power rarely goes out in Yoff Layene; whereas in other parts of Dakar, power outages are very common.
1. According to the CIA World Factbook, Senegal is 94% Muslim;
2. Islam in Senegal and The Gambia is slightly different than other areas of the world. Instead of ordinary believers being directly connected to Allah, in Senegal there are intermediaries between Allah and the commoners; they are called the marabout (pronounced mare-a-boo). The marabout have divine power, and can have significant sway both politically and economically in Senegal.
3. It is not uncommon for families to hand over their young boys to the marabout under the pretense that the children will be given a good education. While I'm sure some are getting a scholarly education, it seems that the majority are simply learning to live on the street. These young boys are everywhere with their tins, begging for money not for them, but for the marabout. It often seems like a good option for families in extreme poverty; and actually many of the boys supposedly come from Guinea-Bissau. It's quite sad...I just looked this up on the internets - the boys are called talibes
4. I live in an area essentially under the control of the Layene brotherhood. Indeed, the area I live in is called Yoff Layene. Their huge, picturesque mosque sits on the beach a five minute walk from my place. For reasons I don't quite understand, because of this mosque, the power rarely goes out in Yoff Layene; whereas in other parts of Dakar, power outages are very common.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Match du Football
Update: PICTURES
On Saturday March 25, I had the pleasure of attending a soccer game between the national teams of Senegal and Cameroon. Before I went, I joked with some of my Senegalese buddies that I was going to root for Cameroon, just to be a bit of a "merde perturbateur". Then the woman who owns my guesthouse told me that the last game between The Gambia and Senegal resulted in both a Gambia win, and a beating for all Gambian fans. Change of plan! GO SENEGAL!
Becca and I opted not to show up six hours early as another friend had chosen to do. Instead, we felt 1.5 hours was sufficient. The line up outside the stadium when we got there was ginormous, but moving pretty quickly. Once we got into the actual stadium, there were many more lines corresponding to the colour of your wristband. We were yellow. After standing in the yellow line for 20 minutes with no movement (the door was shut and it didn't seem that there was any intention by stadium staff to reopen it) we opted instead for the blue line. We were immediately ushered to the front of the line, for no other reason than we were white (as far as I could tell).
We had landed ourselves in the covered section. We did not pay for the covered section. Oh well! There were no seats left whatsoever, so we sat on the stairs as many others had begun to do. This stadium would fail every kind of fire regulation in Canada, that's for sure. Good thing people weren't lighting flares in the middle of the crowd - OH WAIT - they were!
The game itself, up until the 92nd minute, was not spectacular. As is typical with most soccer games I seem to watch, the score was nil-nil and the players ran a lot, and fell down a lot. But that 92nd minute changed everything. Senegal scored. I have honestly not seen so much joy and jubilation in one place. People went CRAZY. Becca and I were splashed with water as people swung their water bottles around in fits of euphoria. The man beside me, who until that point had been fairly reserved, picked me up and gave me a huge bear hug; not putting me down until about 10 seconds later. "EXTRAORDINAIRE!" "INCROYABLE!" And it went on, and on, and on. People began to storm the field, and the police didn't get them under control for a good 15-20 minutes.
It was a pretty fantastic experience. I'll add pictures to Picasa once my internet connection is strong enough to handle it.
On Saturday March 25, I had the pleasure of attending a soccer game between the national teams of Senegal and Cameroon. Before I went, I joked with some of my Senegalese buddies that I was going to root for Cameroon, just to be a bit of a "merde perturbateur". Then the woman who owns my guesthouse told me that the last game between The Gambia and Senegal resulted in both a Gambia win, and a beating for all Gambian fans. Change of plan! GO SENEGAL!
Becca and I opted not to show up six hours early as another friend had chosen to do. Instead, we felt 1.5 hours was sufficient. The line up outside the stadium when we got there was ginormous, but moving pretty quickly. Once we got into the actual stadium, there were many more lines corresponding to the colour of your wristband. We were yellow. After standing in the yellow line for 20 minutes with no movement (the door was shut and it didn't seem that there was any intention by stadium staff to reopen it) we opted instead for the blue line. We were immediately ushered to the front of the line, for no other reason than we were white (as far as I could tell).
We had landed ourselves in the covered section. We did not pay for the covered section. Oh well! There were no seats left whatsoever, so we sat on the stairs as many others had begun to do. This stadium would fail every kind of fire regulation in Canada, that's for sure. Good thing people weren't lighting flares in the middle of the crowd - OH WAIT - they were!
The game itself, up until the 92nd minute, was not spectacular. As is typical with most soccer games I seem to watch, the score was nil-nil and the players ran a lot, and fell down a lot. But that 92nd minute changed everything. Senegal scored. I have honestly not seen so much joy and jubilation in one place. People went CRAZY. Becca and I were splashed with water as people swung their water bottles around in fits of euphoria. The man beside me, who until that point had been fairly reserved, picked me up and gave me a huge bear hug; not putting me down until about 10 seconds later. "EXTRAORDINAIRE!" "INCROYABLE!" And it went on, and on, and on. People began to storm the field, and the police didn't get them under control for a good 15-20 minutes.
It was a pretty fantastic experience. I'll add pictures to Picasa once my internet connection is strong enough to handle it.
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