We were downtown for a party. One of Sylvia's classmates was having a birthday and the whole class was inviited!
A very nice french woman is running a birthday kid space for the expats called, aptly, "Kid City." Fun climbing structure, lots of kid tables to sit and draw at, a reading loft with kid books in french - a good time. Was nice to meet parents of people from around the world. Spanish man and his German wife, here working for a shipping company, A different Spanish guy who manages a factory that makes soup stock. (500 million units a year!), a woman who working on human rights issues (FGC - look it up) and her husband who is head of Peace Corps in Senegal, and the Eretrian man who left his country rather then be forced to stay in the military even after his tour of duty was long since over.
So, we have a very boring story compared to these people. Still, they were happy to talk to us and we to meet them. Skylar and Sylvia played and played until Sylvia was finally so exhausted, she didn't know what to do with herself except to ride on Julienne's hip and cry. Well, we knew it was time to come home.
Out on the street, I saw that our car was parked in. No problem because there was a man who minded the parking spots - all 6 of them. Here in Dakar, there are no parking meters, but there are guys who have a "territory" and they will watch your car for you. When we pulled in, I had cast around for someone who looked like they belonged. I then went and spoke a few words to home "Bon jour" I said. "Sava?" I added. "Bon jour, sava," he said back. "Le voiture, es sava?" I said. "Oui, sava. ???????? " I'm sure he said something else. They usually do but I usually don't understand it.
Anyhow, we came out and I went and greeted the man again. Then, I let him know that we had the gray Peugot and that it was being blocked by the blue car. He jumped right up and started calling out to the guy who owned it.
When we got to our car, there was a descheveled woman leaning against the side. I knew she was there and had planned to give her some money as I asked her to move. The usual donation is 200 CFA but I had only a 500 coin. Well, as I pulled it out, another woman noticed and came over. I didn't want to go for more money so I to the women, "L'argent pour deu." and pointed to her and the other woman. This wasn't a great strategy but just at this moment, the parking attendent's helper came over. I said to him, "Bon jour. Tu aidais mois? Es pour les deu, s'il vous plaid?" And I gave the money to the man.
He started talking to the woman and as I unlocked the door and worked to get everyone inside, I noticed one woman getting out her money to make change, so it seemed to have worked out.
The blue car was moved and the parking attendant came over to let me know it was time to go. It was also time to pay. I was prepared. The usual for parking is 500 CFA ($1.00) but I only had a 1000 bill, so I gave that to him. This was the right thing to do, because he happily walked out into traffic so I could easily back out around the blue car that still made visibility difficult. A well spent $2.00.
We drove about a block, came around a corner, and were moving slowly along the street when a man stepped out from the side of the road and waved us over. Something about his demeanor triggered my desire to comply, so I did. From the best I could figure, he was a police officer.
In the states, you can tell they're a cop by the car. In Senegal, you tell they're a cop maybe by their baseball cap. Or maybe the shirt is the uniform? Anyhow, he acted "coppy" so I acted "compliant" and we got along fine.
I understood about 1/3 of what he wanted but between all my opologies, he seemed in a good enough mood and wasn't going to screw us. Or, not too hard anyhow.
The guy, Chris (not his real name), who is the "car" guy back at ISD had looked over the paperwork when we first got the car. He noticed that the insurance was going to expire in a few days, so he and I went out and got new insurance. Then, he said I was good to go.
Well, Chris missed something. Yes, the taxes were paid. Yes, the insurance was good. What about this little sticker here? It had expired 2 weeks before and, oh yes, I see. You mean that sticker that's on the windshield with a date of August 8th, 2013 - that actually means something?
Oh, pull up ahead? I think that's what you want - yes, ok, I will pull up ahead while you have my license in your hand. Oh, sorry my french is so bad. I want to understand!
Well, we pulled up a bit but Julienne pointed out that really, we shouldn't drive away without the license. I couldn't tell if he was saying he was going to hold the license and that when we come down on Monday to pay the fine, he would give it back? Or was it that Monday, we could go down and pay for a new sticker?
Well, he walked back to the car and showed us a small paper that looked like a citation. Either way, it had a fresh new red stamp on it - it must be official, right? We could pay Monday or pay right now. Which would we like to do?
Now that's an easy choice. So, no, it's not a citation. It's a little piece of theater in which he pretends to give us a citation and we pretend to simply give it back, as well as 12,000 CFA's tucked in the fold. We shook hands, I said I was sorry for the 10th time and we drove off.
"Did you get your license back?" Skylar asked. Both he and Sylvia agreed with Julienne - we didn't want to lose that. "Yes," I said. "It only cost $24."
"Seems like a good deal," Julienne agreed.
Later, when we got back home, we told the story (in halting French) to our day guard, Fallou. He said, "Pour tu es douze mille. Pour moi es deux mille." For you is 12,000. For me is only 2,000.
Yes, we paid foreigner bribe prices. Either that or I confused "douze" and "deux" and the guy didn't feel the need to give me back the extra 10,000!
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Sunday, August 18, 2013
Call to Prayer, downtown, dinner with a maid
Marc here:
It's after 9pm and the kids should be asleep but they're not. Today, there was a good reason.
One of our main motivations for coming overseas was to have a true cultural experience. Tomorrow is "Koreatea" (couldn't find the spelling online) which is the end of Ramadan. Also called Eed (sp?) in other parts of the world. So, there was an extended call to prayer tonight just after sundown and Julienne and the kids were listening to it and talking about what it was all about. We are sometimes awoken in the morning by the same call to prayer - an expected occurrence in a mostly Muslim country.
And so, a cultural experience was had, as well as a later bedtime.
--------------
We went downtown to a large department store. A driver from the school drove a small bus for us to go do some house shopping. We had not been in the downtown area before. It was exactly like so many movies I have seen where there is a scene in an African downtown. Goats tied up, ponyies pulling carts, potholes, women sitting in front of a small table selling fruit, and lots and lots of people sitting around on the street.
Of the new teachers, there are only two of us who have not worked overseas before and I am easily the one with the least overseas travel experience. Most of the other teachers rattle off their list of countries where they have taught overseas. It's a bit daunting.
That said, one of the other teachers with many years of overseas experiences, summed up the downtown experience like this. "I was just in Vietnam and you don't see anything like this in Asia anymore. Asia isn't really 3rd world anymore. This is 3rd world."
Slowly, the lives of the people around us are starting to come into focus.
------------------------------
Tonight was our second night where we ate a meal cooked by our maid, Madeline. She is a very sweet woman who really runs the house for us and whom the children quite like. Her first day on the job, she played with the children and helped them unpack their boxes. We had hoped they would connect with her and they did, which is nice.
It's also nice having her in the house because this house underwent a number of upgrades before we moved in, so there are a number of things that need to be given their final tweeking - getting the toilets all working, the doors all locking smoothly, the drains all flowing. Since she's here all day, the workers from the school can easily get in and get stuff done. Oh, like put up curtain rods!
In many parts of working with a maid, I am taking my cues from Madeline. Dinner is a strange time because in my past experience, unless we are going out to dinner, everyone in the house sits together to eat. Here, in this reality, Madeline is working in the kitchen while we sit, enjoy her cooking, and talk together. For some reason, it struck me as stranger tonight then it did the first night.
Which it is strange, in one sense. The only place I have experienced the reality of the white family sitting to eat and the black person serving them is in movies situated in the South. Then, I remember a story a friend of ours related. She was living in a poor country and a local woman asked if anyone was doing the cleaning for our friend.
Well, no, she had said. But our friend felt uncomfortable about having someone come in to do work for her that she could do for herself. The local woman put it thusly. "You can afford to pay me to work for you. I would like to make some money and cleaning is something I can do to make money. You should let me come and work for you."
And so, sitting there at the table, eating food I did no prepare, I remember that yes, we can afford to pay Madeline and that yes, she is happy to have a reasonably good paying job. She's not sweating it, so I shouldn't either.
Plus, her daughter is grown and in university and she enjoys being around the children. And they, tonight after they learned a new thing on their guitars, were happy to go show it to her. It is fun to have someone else in the house.
It's after 9pm and the kids should be asleep but they're not. Today, there was a good reason.
One of our main motivations for coming overseas was to have a true cultural experience. Tomorrow is "Koreatea" (couldn't find the spelling online) which is the end of Ramadan. Also called Eed (sp?) in other parts of the world. So, there was an extended call to prayer tonight just after sundown and Julienne and the kids were listening to it and talking about what it was all about. We are sometimes awoken in the morning by the same call to prayer - an expected occurrence in a mostly Muslim country.
And so, a cultural experience was had, as well as a later bedtime.
--------------
We went downtown to a large department store. A driver from the school drove a small bus for us to go do some house shopping. We had not been in the downtown area before. It was exactly like so many movies I have seen where there is a scene in an African downtown. Goats tied up, ponyies pulling carts, potholes, women sitting in front of a small table selling fruit, and lots and lots of people sitting around on the street.
Of the new teachers, there are only two of us who have not worked overseas before and I am easily the one with the least overseas travel experience. Most of the other teachers rattle off their list of countries where they have taught overseas. It's a bit daunting.
That said, one of the other teachers with many years of overseas experiences, summed up the downtown experience like this. "I was just in Vietnam and you don't see anything like this in Asia anymore. Asia isn't really 3rd world anymore. This is 3rd world."
Slowly, the lives of the people around us are starting to come into focus.
------------------------------
Tonight was our second night where we ate a meal cooked by our maid, Madeline. She is a very sweet woman who really runs the house for us and whom the children quite like. Her first day on the job, she played with the children and helped them unpack their boxes. We had hoped they would connect with her and they did, which is nice.
It's also nice having her in the house because this house underwent a number of upgrades before we moved in, so there are a number of things that need to be given their final tweeking - getting the toilets all working, the doors all locking smoothly, the drains all flowing. Since she's here all day, the workers from the school can easily get in and get stuff done. Oh, like put up curtain rods!
In many parts of working with a maid, I am taking my cues from Madeline. Dinner is a strange time because in my past experience, unless we are going out to dinner, everyone in the house sits together to eat. Here, in this reality, Madeline is working in the kitchen while we sit, enjoy her cooking, and talk together. For some reason, it struck me as stranger tonight then it did the first night.
Which it is strange, in one sense. The only place I have experienced the reality of the white family sitting to eat and the black person serving them is in movies situated in the South. Then, I remember a story a friend of ours related. She was living in a poor country and a local woman asked if anyone was doing the cleaning for our friend.
Well, no, she had said. But our friend felt uncomfortable about having someone come in to do work for her that she could do for herself. The local woman put it thusly. "You can afford to pay me to work for you. I would like to make some money and cleaning is something I can do to make money. You should let me come and work for you."
And so, sitting there at the table, eating food I did no prepare, I remember that yes, we can afford to pay Madeline and that yes, she is happy to have a reasonably good paying job. She's not sweating it, so I shouldn't either.
Plus, her daughter is grown and in university and she enjoys being around the children. And they, tonight after they learned a new thing on their guitars, were happy to go show it to her. It is fun to have someone else in the house.
Sick in Dakar
Marc here.
Sylvia is the lucky one so far. She is the only one of the four of us not to get sick. I, on the other hand, am the most unlucky , having missed 4 days of work this past week. Bummer.
As often happens before getting sick, I get run down. New country, new job and still trying to keep up some reasonable running worked together to leave me so tired I couldn't fight off the bug. Or, at least not recover quickly from it. Skylar recovered in a day, Julienne took two. A week after the initial throwing up, I'm still sitting a lot and moving slowly.
The visit to the Senegalese Dr. was interesting though. Or, more of visiting a French doctor, since he was white and spook good English with a French accent.
Getting around in Dakar by cab is common and so to allow Julienne to keep working at school, a cab was the obvious choice. Cabs in Dakar are all black and yellow, usually burn a lot of oil, and if have seat belts they are only for the driver. Cabbies are also friend and would be chatty if we knew their language. Cabs are also very easy to find, even on side roads.
We had a cab come to the school to pick me up, drive me about 15 minutes downtown to the clinic, wait outside, drive me back to school, then take me to our house. I paid the man 10,000 CFAs ($20). I think it was more then needed but when, part way though the trip, I asked if he had change for 10,000, I think he thought I was telling him that I was going to give him the whole 10,000 bill. Oh well, it wasn't that much of an overpay and in my drained state, I was happy to have a cabbie I was comfortable with.
Mosque must have just gotten out when I arrived at the clinic since I had to wade through a mob of people dressed nicely in their flowing gowns. The building felt 1930s colonial and there were very few people around. I had a card with the Dr's name and eventually decided to show it to the one man sitting behind a desk. He walked me down to the Dr. who was sitting alone at his desk in his small examining room. Now that I think about it, there was no computer on his desk and this added to the timeless quality of both the building and of him.
The feeling of solitude and quiet contemplation are in such contrast to any medical journey in the US. In the US, there are always other people waiting at a Dr's office. There are always other medical personal around. Here, it was a large, almost empty building and I appeared to be the only person seeking medical attention. Yet, I was reminded of a friend's experience.
If I remember correctly (which I usually don't), Slash's mom came to the US to visit and wanted to refill an allergy prescription. In her country, Jordan, you simply go to the pharmacy and get the new drug. Before she could do that in the US, she was told that she not only needed a Dr's appointment, but it had to be an initial, new patient screening! She would have had to spend over $400 to simply talk to a Dr. to be able to tell her what prescription she needed.
And so, Senegal is much more like Jordan. I walked in and the Dr. was immediately available. We spoke for a few minutes then he did his own lab work on me. Labs consisted of dipping some litmus paper with about 8 sensory dots into my urine sample, comparing the colors the dots turned to the chart, then saying, "Is ok."
Then, a simple prescription of not working and taking Vit. C, and I would out the door, back to my waiting cabbie, and eventually back home. A medical trip where the trip to the Dr. took longer then any time at the Dr. Paying was simply handing the man 30,000 ($60) and out the door I went.
I was glad to have a waiting cabbie. I walked out and started looking for him. This simply act of standing in one place and looking around attracted 3 solicitations for cab rides and attracted 3 young boys who were holding buckets, obviously looking for money.
And so, resting as the Dr. said, I feel better now and am glad to not be lying in bed anymore. Classes start in 2 days, opening ceremonies tomorrow.
Sylvia is the lucky one so far. She is the only one of the four of us not to get sick. I, on the other hand, am the most unlucky , having missed 4 days of work this past week. Bummer.
As often happens before getting sick, I get run down. New country, new job and still trying to keep up some reasonable running worked together to leave me so tired I couldn't fight off the bug. Or, at least not recover quickly from it. Skylar recovered in a day, Julienne took two. A week after the initial throwing up, I'm still sitting a lot and moving slowly.
The visit to the Senegalese Dr. was interesting though. Or, more of visiting a French doctor, since he was white and spook good English with a French accent.
Getting around in Dakar by cab is common and so to allow Julienne to keep working at school, a cab was the obvious choice. Cabs in Dakar are all black and yellow, usually burn a lot of oil, and if have seat belts they are only for the driver. Cabbies are also friend and would be chatty if we knew their language. Cabs are also very easy to find, even on side roads.
We had a cab come to the school to pick me up, drive me about 15 minutes downtown to the clinic, wait outside, drive me back to school, then take me to our house. I paid the man 10,000 CFAs ($20). I think it was more then needed but when, part way though the trip, I asked if he had change for 10,000, I think he thought I was telling him that I was going to give him the whole 10,000 bill. Oh well, it wasn't that much of an overpay and in my drained state, I was happy to have a cabbie I was comfortable with.
Mosque must have just gotten out when I arrived at the clinic since I had to wade through a mob of people dressed nicely in their flowing gowns. The building felt 1930s colonial and there were very few people around. I had a card with the Dr's name and eventually decided to show it to the one man sitting behind a desk. He walked me down to the Dr. who was sitting alone at his desk in his small examining room. Now that I think about it, there was no computer on his desk and this added to the timeless quality of both the building and of him.
The feeling of solitude and quiet contemplation are in such contrast to any medical journey in the US. In the US, there are always other people waiting at a Dr's office. There are always other medical personal around. Here, it was a large, almost empty building and I appeared to be the only person seeking medical attention. Yet, I was reminded of a friend's experience.
If I remember correctly (which I usually don't), Slash's mom came to the US to visit and wanted to refill an allergy prescription. In her country, Jordan, you simply go to the pharmacy and get the new drug. Before she could do that in the US, she was told that she not only needed a Dr's appointment, but it had to be an initial, new patient screening! She would have had to spend over $400 to simply talk to a Dr. to be able to tell her what prescription she needed.
And so, Senegal is much more like Jordan. I walked in and the Dr. was immediately available. We spoke for a few minutes then he did his own lab work on me. Labs consisted of dipping some litmus paper with about 8 sensory dots into my urine sample, comparing the colors the dots turned to the chart, then saying, "Is ok."
Then, a simple prescription of not working and taking Vit. C, and I would out the door, back to my waiting cabbie, and eventually back home. A medical trip where the trip to the Dr. took longer then any time at the Dr. Paying was simply handing the man 30,000 ($60) and out the door I went.
I was glad to have a waiting cabbie. I walked out and started looking for him. This simply act of standing in one place and looking around attracted 3 solicitations for cab rides and attracted 3 young boys who were holding buckets, obviously looking for money.
And so, resting as the Dr. said, I feel better now and am glad to not be lying in bed anymore. Classes start in 2 days, opening ceremonies tomorrow.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Julienne's 1st week summary
Hi Everybody!
After a super fun-filled 4 days in Paris, we have arrived in Dakar and are settling in. Getting our visas at the airport was 2 hours of hot, crammed, unorganized lines while I stretched out a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang story for as long as I could go to keep our hot and exhausted children from completely losing it, but since then Senegal has been great! Folks at the school have been super friendly, and everyone out and about and at little shops, etc, has been friendly and kind. Sylvia has been happily noticing the goings-on of the babies and kids she sees around (in Paris she was busily noticing how many women with high heels were riding motorcycles), and Skylar, after seeing a few cockroaches scurrying around in our new home when we arrived, has decided he would like to keep one for a pet. Marc, an experienced cockroach-keeper, has helped facilitate this dream and we are now housing one in a jar inside our tv cabinet. Cockroach TV.
I was surprised to find that, so far, aside from the large roads, which are paved, most of the smaller roads we've been on, including the roads all around our neighborhood, are dirt. Cars and taxis drive all around, and then there are horse-drawn wagons that come around to pick up your garbage and I guess do other jobs. We're in the capital city, and yet a horse wagon drives by each day on the dirt road in front of our house.
What else? We've been shopping at some fun spots to help get our house set up. Skylar and Sylvia got their first djembe drum lesson the other day when we passed the drum-maker on the street and he showed them how to play. Tonight I lay with Skylar and Sylvia under their mosquito netting listening to the call to prayer. Tomorrow is Korite (pronounced kor-ee-tay), the feasting day at the end of Ramadan... I guess it's the local version of Eid al-Fitr. All the new teachers (and Skylar and Sylvia and some new teachers' teenage son named Kyle) are going to the home of one of the Senegalese employees at the school. I'm really looking forward to the day!
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Kid's comments on our 2nd full day in Dakar
Sylvia Says:
We have nets on our bed so the mosquitos don't get us. It's like a circle and it goes up to the top. You have to not pull so it doesn't come down. (A man from ISD maintenance came out today and hung up mosquito netting and measured for putting in hand railings on the stairs.)
Fallou's friend, today we just met him and he speaks English. (Fallou is the day guard. He works 12 hrs/day and sits out in front of the house, making sure we're safe. He knows the neighbor kid who lives in NYC but is on vacation on Senegal.)
And we saw the school today. It's good but I played on Skylar's playground but not Skylar's playground. (We did a family walk to the school. We got lost a few times but eventually made it. We paid $3.00 for a taxi cab ride home in a smoking, clunking cab with no seat belts. The cab driver, twice, gave money to beggers on the streets - a real cultural education. In Indonesia, Julienne said, when the taxi cab drivers see a begger, they call out "roll up your windows!"
And, up, there's a noise that is loud that sounds like thunder on the phone. (She was breathing hard on the phone!)
We have a house keeper that, um, today, we're making dinner then tomorrow, she's going to make dinner. (Julienne chimmed in) Um, today they, mommy and Madaline, are doing it together. (The house keeper made her first dinner today. Smells good - almost time to start!)
And we have so much Playmobile. There's 7 kids and I don't know how much people, um, adults there are. But there's soo - do you know what? After the people goed, I got the box my cabbage patch doll was in, I only needed to dig a little to get my doll. Skylar needed to dig a lot to get Steggy.
Right around lunch time or the morning, we can call Grandma Donna or Grampa Edward or Grammy and Grampy.
Bye
Skylar says:
I want to tell you something funny about the Eiffel tower. You know the lover's bridge? They do the same thing as the Lover's bridge on the Eiffel tower. They put locks on it too.
So, I have to say good bye, so bye!
We have nets on our bed so the mosquitos don't get us. It's like a circle and it goes up to the top. You have to not pull so it doesn't come down. (A man from ISD maintenance came out today and hung up mosquito netting and measured for putting in hand railings on the stairs.)
Fallou's friend, today we just met him and he speaks English. (Fallou is the day guard. He works 12 hrs/day and sits out in front of the house, making sure we're safe. He knows the neighbor kid who lives in NYC but is on vacation on Senegal.)
And we saw the school today. It's good but I played on Skylar's playground but not Skylar's playground. (We did a family walk to the school. We got lost a few times but eventually made it. We paid $3.00 for a taxi cab ride home in a smoking, clunking cab with no seat belts. The cab driver, twice, gave money to beggers on the streets - a real cultural education. In Indonesia, Julienne said, when the taxi cab drivers see a begger, they call out "roll up your windows!"
And, up, there's a noise that is loud that sounds like thunder on the phone. (She was breathing hard on the phone!)
We have a house keeper that, um, today, we're making dinner then tomorrow, she's going to make dinner. (Julienne chimmed in) Um, today they, mommy and Madaline, are doing it together. (The house keeper made her first dinner today. Smells good - almost time to start!)
And we have so much Playmobile. There's 7 kids and I don't know how much people, um, adults there are. But there's soo - do you know what? After the people goed, I got the box my cabbage patch doll was in, I only needed to dig a little to get my doll. Skylar needed to dig a lot to get Steggy.
Right around lunch time or the morning, we can call Grandma Donna or Grampa Edward or Grammy and Grampy.
Bye
Skylar says:
I want to tell you something funny about the Eiffel tower. You know the lover's bridge? They do the same thing as the Lover's bridge on the Eiffel tower. They put locks on it too.
So, I have to say good bye, so bye!
Monday, August 5, 2013
Landing in Dakar
We flew from Paris on a large Boing 777 airplane. We were in the middle section over the wings so we saw almost nothing of the landscape we flew over. This was too bad.
Before we landed, Skylar and I talked about the line at the airport and how long we thought the wait was going to be. He ballparked 45 minutes, I ballparked 2 hours. Turns out I was pretty close.
We walked down stairs from the plane and boarded a bus. Then, we flowed out of the bus into an air conditioned space where most of the waiting happened. When we had entered France, there was a long, serpentine walking path that made it clear who was in front of whom. In Dakar, there were only about 15' of clearly marked lines, leaving the other 80' of the room with amorphous lines. And so, it quickly became apparent that the best strategy was to pack tightly with the people infront of you so the people who were trying to cut in line couldn't get in.
There were many people trying to cut in line. The woman in front of me did a nice job scolding the different me who tried to push in. I kept our bags tight to her but the two young european woman behind us didn't press so well. So, in the 1/2 hr that it took us to finally get to the portion of the room that had ropes to mark the line, these young women stayed still while people cut in line in front of them!
While this was going on, to our left was a way to walk around the people checking your passport. From time to time, people would approach the guards at this rope and talk to them and periodically, a flood of 15-20 people would be let through. We did not understand why they were going around or what it meant, but we stayed in line and eventually had our documents stamped.
The kids were quite unhappy by this time. We were about 1.5 hours into the experience. The space for the stamping was a small hall, about 3' wide. There were 3 people with their windows and scanners lined up in this hallway, working with different groups of people. In this narrow hallway, people seemed to be coming and going and trying to squeeze around us. Adding crying children (ours) into the mix didn't help. Julienne did a great job telling them a story trough this whole time.
Then, after the passports, we needed to get visas. Well, this included sitting still for photos. By this time, Skylar was wimpering in the corner, Julienne was desperately trying to figure what the two officers wanted, and I was wrestling with Sylvia, trying to get her to face the camera for a photo. The closest we got was her clenched eyes and open, screaming mouth. The officer just shook his head and threw up his arms. Finally, the other officer gave in a simply waved us past.
Two hours after we'd landed, we had our papers and were into the baggage claim area. Here, almost magically, appeared a man holding our names. (Or close approximations with Julienne Webster and Marc Haryss typed out neatly on a piece of paper.) Then, quite surprising to us, our bags were still going 'round and 'round on the baggage claim, all 4 large pieces of luggage and both booster seats.
Then, we have customs. While in line, I was so preoccupied with the stress of the situation I couldn't think of much else. As soon as we saw the kindly driver with our names, I started noticing the place we were and started chatting with Julienne.
"Hey, " I said. "I just got my brain back!" Simply having the a local person to follow changed the whole feeling of the experience. Custom bag check consisted of sending all out baggage through an x-ray scanner much faster then any 3 security people could watch for contraban, let alone the one guy who was looking at us and not the machine. People would hurriedly drop their bags on one end and run to the other end and grab it before it dropped to the floor.
But, now that we had a local to follow, I found this amusing instead of bemusing. I knew we were on the glide path to our new house.
Outside, two more things surprised me. First, the principal of the elementary school was still waiting, over 2 hours after landing. It was nice to see someone we actually knew. And second, just how many people lined the road leading from the airport exit. There must have been at least 200 people lining the fences along the road, waiting for others to emerge as we had.
Later, after talking with other new teachers, we learned that our experience was not the ordinary. Our plane, a large one, landed before the previous plane load of people had been processed. Then, while we were still in line, another plane landed, creating a log-jam. Other people who had arrived early the next day spent about 20 minutes in line. No shouting, line cutting, or crying children. Hopefully we get that experience on our next arrival to Dakar.
Before we landed, Skylar and I talked about the line at the airport and how long we thought the wait was going to be. He ballparked 45 minutes, I ballparked 2 hours. Turns out I was pretty close.
We walked down stairs from the plane and boarded a bus. Then, we flowed out of the bus into an air conditioned space where most of the waiting happened. When we had entered France, there was a long, serpentine walking path that made it clear who was in front of whom. In Dakar, there were only about 15' of clearly marked lines, leaving the other 80' of the room with amorphous lines. And so, it quickly became apparent that the best strategy was to pack tightly with the people infront of you so the people who were trying to cut in line couldn't get in.
There were many people trying to cut in line. The woman in front of me did a nice job scolding the different me who tried to push in. I kept our bags tight to her but the two young european woman behind us didn't press so well. So, in the 1/2 hr that it took us to finally get to the portion of the room that had ropes to mark the line, these young women stayed still while people cut in line in front of them!
While this was going on, to our left was a way to walk around the people checking your passport. From time to time, people would approach the guards at this rope and talk to them and periodically, a flood of 15-20 people would be let through. We did not understand why they were going around or what it meant, but we stayed in line and eventually had our documents stamped.
The kids were quite unhappy by this time. We were about 1.5 hours into the experience. The space for the stamping was a small hall, about 3' wide. There were 3 people with their windows and scanners lined up in this hallway, working with different groups of people. In this narrow hallway, people seemed to be coming and going and trying to squeeze around us. Adding crying children (ours) into the mix didn't help. Julienne did a great job telling them a story trough this whole time.
Then, after the passports, we needed to get visas. Well, this included sitting still for photos. By this time, Skylar was wimpering in the corner, Julienne was desperately trying to figure what the two officers wanted, and I was wrestling with Sylvia, trying to get her to face the camera for a photo. The closest we got was her clenched eyes and open, screaming mouth. The officer just shook his head and threw up his arms. Finally, the other officer gave in a simply waved us past.
Two hours after we'd landed, we had our papers and were into the baggage claim area. Here, almost magically, appeared a man holding our names. (Or close approximations with Julienne Webster and Marc Haryss typed out neatly on a piece of paper.) Then, quite surprising to us, our bags were still going 'round and 'round on the baggage claim, all 4 large pieces of luggage and both booster seats.
Then, we have customs. While in line, I was so preoccupied with the stress of the situation I couldn't think of much else. As soon as we saw the kindly driver with our names, I started noticing the place we were and started chatting with Julienne.
"Hey, " I said. "I just got my brain back!" Simply having the a local person to follow changed the whole feeling of the experience. Custom bag check consisted of sending all out baggage through an x-ray scanner much faster then any 3 security people could watch for contraban, let alone the one guy who was looking at us and not the machine. People would hurriedly drop their bags on one end and run to the other end and grab it before it dropped to the floor.
But, now that we had a local to follow, I found this amusing instead of bemusing. I knew we were on the glide path to our new house.
Outside, two more things surprised me. First, the principal of the elementary school was still waiting, over 2 hours after landing. It was nice to see someone we actually knew. And second, just how many people lined the road leading from the airport exit. There must have been at least 200 people lining the fences along the road, waiting for others to emerge as we had.
Later, after talking with other new teachers, we learned that our experience was not the ordinary. Our plane, a large one, landed before the previous plane load of people had been processed. Then, while we were still in line, another plane landed, creating a log-jam. Other people who had arrived early the next day spent about 20 minutes in line. No shouting, line cutting, or crying children. Hopefully we get that experience on our next arrival to Dakar.
Settling into Dakar
Julienne talked with Madaline, the house keeper, but we don't know how to say how to get to our house. So, I went out and talked to the day watch man, Fallou. He agreed to help so Julienne passed the phone through the window and he and Madaline spoke. Now, Fallou is walking to meet Madaline. So, for many days, there will be TWO people here working at the house with us. Many people to practice our French with!
This section of Dakar is a construction zone. Many men working building houses of cement, mixing sand and gravel, and banging. The sounds are very different from construction in the US because there is almost no wood involved, so no nail guns and no saws or compressors. Just the squeek of pulleys as one person pulls the rope to lift a bucket of cement to the workers above.
All in all, it feels very comfortable.
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Last day in Paris - kid's comments
Skylar says,
We are in Paris. we are going to leave to Senegal today. we have some pet flowers. Sylvia says they aren't pets but I think they are. We give them mint seltzer water. There is a subway track that goes by our hotel. It is a double-decker subway.
Sylia says:
Skylar thinks it's a double decker subway but it's actually - what's that called? - RER
Skylar says about moving to Senegal:
I don't know what Senegal is. I felt like the United States was my border line but now I don't want to leave France.
Sylvia Says:
When I first leaved the United States, I knew there were little shops in Paris. (Pointing out the window.) I see it! It's double decker!
Marc Says:
Yesterday, after walking around Versailles, we were talking about our plans for the next day and I was SHOCKED to realize that tomorrow was the big day - we were actually going to get to Senegal! It seems that emotionally, I was expected that we would be heading back to Greenfield after our fun little Paris vacation.
Emotion and intellect are so very disconnected sometimes.
And so, this morning, I went for a run along the Seine. There is a rather long island in the middle of the Seine, the I'ile-Saint-Denis, that is about a 1/2 mile from our hotel. You can run across the bridge to the island then there are bike paths, dirt paths, and some areas where you need to run on the road, and run for about 3 miles along the river. At the north-west end of the long cresent, there is a large municipal park with dirt paths, a number of fun playgrounds, and several other runners.
As I ran back to the hotel, I thought how nice it would be to show the kids and Julienne the fun things I'd seen. Having bicycles would really help us see the city - luckily, we have our bikes in Senegal!
And so, the next time I post, we will be in the city of our new home. Exciting and nervous. I dreamed of Senegal last night and it was rather pleasant. Meaninglessness of dreams aside, it is still nice to have a pleasant, if fictitious memory.
We are in Paris. we are going to leave to Senegal today. we have some pet flowers. Sylvia says they aren't pets but I think they are. We give them mint seltzer water. There is a subway track that goes by our hotel. It is a double-decker subway.
Sylia says:
Skylar thinks it's a double decker subway but it's actually - what's that called? - RER
Skylar says about moving to Senegal:
I don't know what Senegal is. I felt like the United States was my border line but now I don't want to leave France.
Sylvia Says:
When I first leaved the United States, I knew there were little shops in Paris. (Pointing out the window.) I see it! It's double decker!
Marc Says:
Yesterday, after walking around Versailles, we were talking about our plans for the next day and I was SHOCKED to realize that tomorrow was the big day - we were actually going to get to Senegal! It seems that emotionally, I was expected that we would be heading back to Greenfield after our fun little Paris vacation.
Emotion and intellect are so very disconnected sometimes.
And so, this morning, I went for a run along the Seine. There is a rather long island in the middle of the Seine, the I'ile-Saint-Denis, that is about a 1/2 mile from our hotel. You can run across the bridge to the island then there are bike paths, dirt paths, and some areas where you need to run on the road, and run for about 3 miles along the river. At the north-west end of the long cresent, there is a large municipal park with dirt paths, a number of fun playgrounds, and several other runners.
As I ran back to the hotel, I thought how nice it would be to show the kids and Julienne the fun things I'd seen. Having bicycles would really help us see the city - luckily, we have our bikes in Senegal!
And so, the next time I post, we will be in the city of our new home. Exciting and nervous. I dreamed of Senegal last night and it was rather pleasant. Meaninglessness of dreams aside, it is still nice to have a pleasant, if fictitious memory.
A Day a Versailles
We were in Versailles back in early August but just now got around to posting it. A fun day though strangely not a very cultural experience because everyone around us were tourists. Still, we had a lot of fun!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UD6o5XNlJfs&feature=em-upload_owner
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UD6o5XNlJfs&feature=em-upload_owner
Friday, August 2, 2013
Jardin d'Acclimatation in Paris
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkSRDrBX0Bc
We enjoyed the day at a "children's garden" and made a video about it. Enjoy!
We enjoyed the day at a "children's garden" and made a video about it. Enjoy!
Lunch in Paris
Skylar's advice about pastries - don't have more then one every other day.
Sad they were all gone.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Toilets, children, and Doctors
Marc here:
They won't have toilets like this in Senegal.
You stand in line for a long time. The door is closed and the green light says, "Ready" (French, English and Italian script) You push the button, the curved door gracefully slides open, you enter, and it gracefully slides closed. After you're done, you push the flush button and nothing happens. You push it again and a franch voice comes on. You push it a third time, decides it's broke and feel sorry for the poor schmuck who is coming in after you.
You open the door, exit, and expect the next person to walk in after you. They don't. Instead, they wait as the door gracefully and automatically slides back closed. A sweet French voice starts talking into a now empty public restroom. Then, you realize what she is saying. "If there is anyone in here, you had better get out right now because I'm gonna' spray this whole damn place down." Which she does, along with finally flushing.
Then, the light turns green and you realize why the line was so slow. While it might suck to wait if you really need to go, it sure is nice to get into a clean public bathroom.
Children:
We understand what parents are saying to their children better then when two adults are talking. We understand children even better when they talk to other children. Like today, walking back from the train, two children were running along the pedistrien walk area that connected the station with the neighbor hood the hotel is in. They got to the end of the walkway and sat on the large stones that keep cars out. The boy announces, "J'ai froid." "J'ai chaud," the girl announced. We tended to agree with her because the temp went above 35C today. "Froid," he insisted. "No, chaud," she retorted. "Froid." "Chaud."
"Chaud," the mom interject, then added other things that included, "Vit," and several other things. At lease we understood what the kids were talking about!
Doctors:
While in line at one of the public, robotic, clean toilets, we struck up a conversation with lady Dr. from Paragua who spoke good english and was on her way to 3 month in the Central African Republic to work with Dr. Without Borders.
Julienne asked her what she expected to treat. She said she didn't really know but that after her time in S. Sudan, everyone on her team had gotten Malaria except her. "Bed netting and lots of spray," she said. "I didn't do the profolactics because they didn't agree with me but I guess I was lucky."
We told her we were on our way to Senegal but that probably our experience were going to be very different, especially since we were going as a job and she was going as a volunteer. An interesting question came in my mind from listening to so many Planet Money podcasts and after reading the book, Death Aide, which argued for direct foreign investment and against governmental level aide. If one was to put a volunteer Dr. Without Borders on a moral spectrum along with teachers at posh internatinoal schools, where would we each fall?
They won't have toilets like this in Senegal.
You stand in line for a long time. The door is closed and the green light says, "Ready" (French, English and Italian script) You push the button, the curved door gracefully slides open, you enter, and it gracefully slides closed. After you're done, you push the flush button and nothing happens. You push it again and a franch voice comes on. You push it a third time, decides it's broke and feel sorry for the poor schmuck who is coming in after you.
You open the door, exit, and expect the next person to walk in after you. They don't. Instead, they wait as the door gracefully and automatically slides back closed. A sweet French voice starts talking into a now empty public restroom. Then, you realize what she is saying. "If there is anyone in here, you had better get out right now because I'm gonna' spray this whole damn place down." Which she does, along with finally flushing.
Then, the light turns green and you realize why the line was so slow. While it might suck to wait if you really need to go, it sure is nice to get into a clean public bathroom.
Children:
We understand what parents are saying to their children better then when two adults are talking. We understand children even better when they talk to other children. Like today, walking back from the train, two children were running along the pedistrien walk area that connected the station with the neighbor hood the hotel is in. They got to the end of the walkway and sat on the large stones that keep cars out. The boy announces, "J'ai froid." "J'ai chaud," the girl announced. We tended to agree with her because the temp went above 35C today. "Froid," he insisted. "No, chaud," she retorted. "Froid." "Chaud."
"Chaud," the mom interject, then added other things that included, "Vit," and several other things. At lease we understood what the kids were talking about!
Doctors:
While in line at one of the public, robotic, clean toilets, we struck up a conversation with lady Dr. from Paragua who spoke good english and was on her way to 3 month in the Central African Republic to work with Dr. Without Borders.
Julienne asked her what she expected to treat. She said she didn't really know but that after her time in S. Sudan, everyone on her team had gotten Malaria except her. "Bed netting and lots of spray," she said. "I didn't do the profolactics because they didn't agree with me but I guess I was lucky."
We told her we were on our way to Senegal but that probably our experience were going to be very different, especially since we were going as a job and she was going as a volunteer. An interesting question came in my mind from listening to so many Planet Money podcasts and after reading the book, Death Aide, which argued for direct foreign investment and against governmental level aide. If one was to put a volunteer Dr. Without Borders on a moral spectrum along with teachers at posh internatinoal schools, where would we each fall?
Reflections on cultural differences
Marc Here:
Julienne and I have been talking (I mean, of course we've been talking. Isn't that what happily married couples like to do?) and we both agree that our going to France before we go to Senegal was a good idea. For a while we weren't sure. We mostly decided to stop in Paris when we noticed that some of the flights out of Boston went through Paris on the way to Dakar. "Heck," we thought. "Why not stop?"
Now, we're starting to think it was a good idea. Of the two of us, I feel that the transition to another culture will be harder for me. Julienne has lived in another country for an extended time while I have only traveled to Paris for our second honeymoon. Also, I have distinct memories of going through culture shock - after spending a summer up at the Unirondack summer camp! Feeling shock from that simple experience, I feel, sets a low bar for me to be more shaken by so many differences at once..
So, how will things be different? On the spectrum of ethnicities, language, culture and economics, I feel that France is a good middle ground to Senegal. While the language and cultures are different from Massachusetts, the economic profile and ethnic profile are pretty similar to it. Also, language is strangely not so different. People we talk to here in Paris are very nice. They will often humor us in French for a bit until they really want to make sure we are understanding them, then they switch to french.
In Quebec, where Julienne and I traveled last summer (thanks Dad and Margaret for watching the kids!) we found that if we simply started a conversation with "Hello," the other person would invariably be able to speak in English. Here, we are finding the same. So, in that way, while language is a weakness for us, Paris is also a half way place where we hear lots of French spoken and written, we don't really need to use it to get what we want.
And so, we expect Senegal to be on the other end of the spectrum. My European ethnicity will switch from a majority to minority. My language will go from majority to minority but still useful to useless out on the street. The culture I expect to be a mix because of both the US's and Senegal's past colonial status. That, and we have heard universally that the people of Senegal are very nice.
Then again, we have heard about the people of Paris being snobby but we have had exactly none of that. Even today as we went to get on the train, the conductor was very nice. The train said something like, "Mar de Martin" and we wanted the train to go to "Postrine." He said, "Postrine? This way," and pointed to the train. When we stepped on and read that the sign definitely did not say, "Postrine," we stepped off and tried saying something in French. He very politely bowed to us and said in English, "Please, trust me. This train does indeed go to Postrine." He was right, and nice even as we were questioning him over an incorrect LCD display.
So culturally, I'm sure we'll make mistakes but hopefully if we're humble and with the nice locals, it will work out. As for economics, that will be a big difference. A running buddy has been to the Gambia a number of times. The Gambia is an ex-British colony that is surrounded by Senegal. We were talking about running in Senegal and he said, "It will probably be much like my experience. When I would go for a run in The Gambia, almost immediately I would be followed by like 15 kids, running in bare feet, not wanting anything but simply to run for the love of running. It would invariably happen and I grew to look forward to it. You'll never be at a loss for a running buddy in Senegal."
A sweet story but also a simple touchstone. We will go from average wealth to high wealth. Not filty rich, but certainly upper class. We will be paying our house keeper as much in a month as we making in about a day and a half. AND we are paying her very good wages. I'm sure we'll write more about that.
Back to the kids - there wouldn't be that many children free to go for a run in the US. Why, I'm not exactly sure but I suspect that fewer students stay in school and thus, it's more acceptable to be running around during the day. Also, Jared Diamond has talked of spending time in Papua New Guinea and there, 10-12 year old boys were allowed to travel with him for weeks at a time with little or no preparation or warning to the parents. This will be a cultural difference that again we shall learn about.
So, to conclude, we are planning to go to a children-focused park. A bit of a theme park, like one called "Fairy Land" in San Fransico. I know mostly what to expect for the ethnicity of the people around us, the language that will be spoken, the culture and economics of the people we meet. What will it be like in another different country? We shall see.
Julienne and I have been talking (I mean, of course we've been talking. Isn't that what happily married couples like to do?) and we both agree that our going to France before we go to Senegal was a good idea. For a while we weren't sure. We mostly decided to stop in Paris when we noticed that some of the flights out of Boston went through Paris on the way to Dakar. "Heck," we thought. "Why not stop?"
Now, we're starting to think it was a good idea. Of the two of us, I feel that the transition to another culture will be harder for me. Julienne has lived in another country for an extended time while I have only traveled to Paris for our second honeymoon. Also, I have distinct memories of going through culture shock - after spending a summer up at the Unirondack summer camp! Feeling shock from that simple experience, I feel, sets a low bar for me to be more shaken by so many differences at once..
So, how will things be different? On the spectrum of ethnicities, language, culture and economics, I feel that France is a good middle ground to Senegal. While the language and cultures are different from Massachusetts, the economic profile and ethnic profile are pretty similar to it. Also, language is strangely not so different. People we talk to here in Paris are very nice. They will often humor us in French for a bit until they really want to make sure we are understanding them, then they switch to french.
In Quebec, where Julienne and I traveled last summer (thanks Dad and Margaret for watching the kids!) we found that if we simply started a conversation with "Hello," the other person would invariably be able to speak in English. Here, we are finding the same. So, in that way, while language is a weakness for us, Paris is also a half way place where we hear lots of French spoken and written, we don't really need to use it to get what we want.
And so, we expect Senegal to be on the other end of the spectrum. My European ethnicity will switch from a majority to minority. My language will go from majority to minority but still useful to useless out on the street. The culture I expect to be a mix because of both the US's and Senegal's past colonial status. That, and we have heard universally that the people of Senegal are very nice.
Then again, we have heard about the people of Paris being snobby but we have had exactly none of that. Even today as we went to get on the train, the conductor was very nice. The train said something like, "Mar de Martin" and we wanted the train to go to "Postrine." He said, "Postrine? This way," and pointed to the train. When we stepped on and read that the sign definitely did not say, "Postrine," we stepped off and tried saying something in French. He very politely bowed to us and said in English, "Please, trust me. This train does indeed go to Postrine." He was right, and nice even as we were questioning him over an incorrect LCD display.
So culturally, I'm sure we'll make mistakes but hopefully if we're humble and with the nice locals, it will work out. As for economics, that will be a big difference. A running buddy has been to the Gambia a number of times. The Gambia is an ex-British colony that is surrounded by Senegal. We were talking about running in Senegal and he said, "It will probably be much like my experience. When I would go for a run in The Gambia, almost immediately I would be followed by like 15 kids, running in bare feet, not wanting anything but simply to run for the love of running. It would invariably happen and I grew to look forward to it. You'll never be at a loss for a running buddy in Senegal."
A sweet story but also a simple touchstone. We will go from average wealth to high wealth. Not filty rich, but certainly upper class. We will be paying our house keeper as much in a month as we making in about a day and a half. AND we are paying her very good wages. I'm sure we'll write more about that.
Back to the kids - there wouldn't be that many children free to go for a run in the US. Why, I'm not exactly sure but I suspect that fewer students stay in school and thus, it's more acceptable to be running around during the day. Also, Jared Diamond has talked of spending time in Papua New Guinea and there, 10-12 year old boys were allowed to travel with him for weeks at a time with little or no preparation or warning to the parents. This will be a cultural difference that again we shall learn about.
So, to conclude, we are planning to go to a children-focused park. A bit of a theme park, like one called "Fairy Land" in San Fransico. I know mostly what to expect for the ethnicity of the people around us, the language that will be spoken, the culture and economics of the people we meet. What will it be like in another different country? We shall see.
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