How many guards to the beach?

I took my 6th grade class for a walk down to the beach.  We are doing volcanos and there is some great geology down there - pyroclastic flows, lava deposits, lava flows, columnar basalt, and more.

It's also a slightly sketchy place.  You walk through some construction, over a pile of excavation fill from other constructions, and down to the water.  Seeing a naked man swimming is not all that surprising.  There are also never any women.

So, it seemed reasonable when the principal asked that we take one of the school guards down with us.  Which we did yesterday.

Today I took the other 6th grade class down.  Just like last time, our lab assistant met us at the classroom.  Then the class assistant met us as we walked down.  We got to the guard station and there was a guard with the night stick.

Then he and I were both informed that actually, some other guards, 3 of them in fact, would be walking with us.  "Who are these people?" I thought.

Then, I remembered who was in the class.  "Oh, yes.  These guys are here for the President's son."

Looking northward over the pyroclastic deposits and lava flows.

Columnar basalt

Ash deposit - possibly a pyroclastic flow.

How much do you pay 20 children for their help?

Marc here...

We use google maps a lot on the ipad.  First, we load the maps into memory then we drive around, one person staring down at the map and another focusing on the road.  Looking at the satellite photo, one notices a curious thing just to the north of the main city - strips of green.

Dakar is not a land of central planning.  There are few parks and even along the much-promoted Cornich - the road along the cliff overlooking the water, there is more trash then attractive places.  So, seeing a strip of green on the satellite photo was intriguing.  What would we find?

We had explored the beach a few times but for this adventure, we decided to drive where the strip of land became markedly wider.

In this map, we life about 1/2 hr down and to the left!

We arrived first by getting stuck in the sand as we pulled off the main road.  As we got out of the car to see what could be done, about 15 kids showed up.  Some started pushing even with the car turned off, others started using their hands to dig around the front wheel.  Suddenly, we were the main Saturday event.

Becoming the "main event" doesn't happen in the part of Dakar where we live.  There are many foreigners.  When we go to one of the upscale grocery stores (read "American" style) there are probably nearly 1/3 of the people are foreigners.  When we explore out a bit more and simply follow the map instead of follow other expats recommendations, we are the only people with light skin.  We are also one of the few people with a car.

So, as the "main" event, I drove the car, rocking it back and forth.  Julienne made sure little kids didn't get squished.  Skylar and Sylvia stood shocked by the throng of kids.  The local kids pushed.  Quickly, we were unstuck and I climbed out.

I was immediately greeted by the "spokes person."  This is a different the the other common role - the "elder statesperson."  The spokes person is the kid who has the gumption to ask an adult for money.  The elder statesperson is the kid you can actually give money to without there being a fight.  He is trusted by the other kids to share the money after the white people have left.

Early on in our Dakar adventures, we were met by a pack of kids.  We had just bought a lot of fruit so had the idea to offer them some bananas.  Well, we started passing out bananas before we counted heads.  The boys quickly realized there were not enough bananas to go around and there was a mad grab into our trunk to get at what bananas were left.  We learned out lesson.

As the children happily dispersed, following the elders statesman (who was pushing 10), we began the walk to the beach.  We soon met a nice man who spoke good English who really wanted to tell us about his organization for international cooperation between music artists - especially rap.  We politely chatted then, as we were ready to go, he gave us the "warning."

The warning is somewhat standard.  I first read about it when Jared Diamond, of Guns, Germs and Steel was speaking of his experiences traveling in New Guinea.  He told of walking in one valley and pleasantly communicating with the very nice people.  Invariably, when he let them know he was continuing on to the next valley, they would warn him.  "Watch out - those people are savages, cannibals, monsters!"  Upon arriving at the next valley, Jared would find the people as friendly as the last - if not more.

And so, when we are warned of "bad people" on the beach, we don't totally ignore the warning but we do know it is more an attempt to be friendly and helpful then to pass along true information.  That said, we do try to leave money, phones, etc. in the car.  This is no different then the US where if we want to all go play in the waves, there wouldn't be anybody to sit and watch the bag!

We passed another group of children as we walked through the thick sand and entered the forest.  Being in a forest, even a spars forest of trees and almost no undergrowth, is quite a contrast from being in the city.  The dominant sound becomes birds.  The dominant smell becomes organic and, if you stand in the shade, a cool moistness enters your lungs.

I like the walk through the woods almost as much as the beach.

Senegal is trashy though.  All through the forest, there is plastic and other trash.  In some places, the trash is so heavy you can't see the needles on the ground.  There is no ethic around trash disposal.  A few weeks back, when we went on a fairy trip without our day guard and friend, Falou, I watched as he ate a granola bar then casually threw the wraper into the sea.

Just as we were leaving the forest, we met another person.  Like most people we see out and about, it was a man.  Also like most men we meet, he gave us a somewhat blank look until I said, "Sava?"  Immediately, he gave us a big smile and soon we started chatting.  While he did not warn us about bad people on the beach, he did share with us the "dream."  Julienne was impressed by how much I figured out of the story but as I told her later, I'd already heard the "dream" story before so I could piece it together.

The dream is to go to the United States.  According to the "dream" you can go to America and make a lot of money and maybe even marry an American woman from there!  Then, the "reality check" part comes in.  It is very difficult to get a visa.  'Ah oui, tres difficile,' I agree.

It's actually nice to have the conversations repeated.  My French is so weak that I have trouble following any conversation that doesn't follow a tried-and-true so while I put the title of the conversations in quotes, I am happy to engage in them.  They are good home bases.

The new coastal high way is going through so the forest is narrower then it used to be and the dunes are taking a hit, but once over the last dune, the beach is endless and the water warm.  We swam, played, and built castles that kept getting knocked down.

Back at the car and happy to be heading home, we were met by another group of children.  When you park your car, it is good practice to look around for someone to check for permission.  They always say it is fine.  Then, when you come back to the car, look around for someone watching you and walking toward your car.  This is the sign that the man is expecting to get paid.  $1.00 is fair pay, $2.00 is very good pay.

So, with a large group, I again asked who was the leader.  "Le grand garcon."  Five hands pointed to the same boy.  We only had a 500 CFA note ($1.00) so this boy had problems.  How to share 1 piece of paper with 10 or 20 kids.  (I didn't know how many kids disserved the money.)  And so, I suggested he buy some candy.

Would have been interesting to see how it all played out but we couldn't stay.  We slowly pulled out of the parking spot to keep from crushing children.  Then, as we drove slowly down the road, we were followed by the stronger runners and had a few riding on the trunk for good measure.  Finally, 3 blocks later, on the paved road, we were able to get up enough speed to out distance then.

We knew they were just playing but it's still unnerving to have your car surrounded by 20 children.  Or was it 30?

Tabaski

Marc here.

Julienne came home last week.  "Score!" she said.  "I got us an invitation to Tabaski!"

So, today we went to a Tabaski celebration, not knowing what we were heading too.  Turns out, we were heading to a very nice afternoon spent with a fellow teacher and his family.  We sat around a communal platter and ate with our hands.  We did not go to the ritual slaughtering.

Slaughtering! you say.  Yes, slaughtering.

So, a bit of background.  Somewhere in distant past where myth and reality collide, there was a man whose actions are revered by three separate religions.  This man either went momentarily insane or was spoken to by God (this part of the story is a bit murky) but all agree that he tried to kill his son.

Really, a holiday based around child killing?  Don't worry - there is this strange holiday in America based around reverse-thieving.  Yes- a fat man breaks into your house and leaves things!

Anyhow, this ancient man did not actually kill his son.  At the last moment, he was persuaded to kill a sheep instead.

So now, once a year, anybody who is anybody in Senegal gets hold of a sheep.  Or cow, if you're well off.  Or a camel, if you can pull that one off somehow.  Then, you kill it and eat it.  Only if you're really poor and are really down on your luck do you kill a chicken.

Our guard was proud to have a goat.  Unfortunately, he got malaria, went to the hospital and to settle the hospital bill, had to sell his goat.  Bummer.  Then, luckily, a good friend from his childhood let him go in on a goat with him.  Saved!

We missed the killing part.  I passed on the eating part but Skylar seemed to enjoy the eating.  When we played in the alley with the kids, we saw evidence of sheeps and goats of the pot - legs stacked neatly by the neighbor's door, a lonely horn lying in the dirt against the dusty cement block wall and a sad flap of a tail waiting in the middle of the road for me to kick it aside so we could play soccer.

We played with about 8 of the neighborhood children - races, soccer hop-scotch, pebble throwing, tic-tac-toe.  A good time though both Skylar and Sylvia, unfamiliar with play that organically shifted from one activity to another without any real plan or discussions, several times cried.  The other children were very nice about it but also somewhat confused.  They seemed to wonder - if they are crying, where is the blood?

And we drove home through the relatively empty streets reminiscent of Superbowl Sunday, fulled with a yummy meal and the joy of companionship.

Happy Tabaski!

An Excursion to Bandia Animal Reserve

Post By Julienne

A few weeks ago we took a trip to Bandia Animal Reserve, less than two hours outside of Dakar.  I think it was 16 years ago that the reserve was created from a 1000 hectare area of fairly stripped land with boabab trees.  Now the land looks very healthy... and the animals seem to be thriving!  Many of the animals are kinds that were at once prevalent in Senegal, but now are not- some animals in the park are local, some were brought in from other parts of Africa, and some were born at Bandia.  It was exhilarating to be so close to these animals, and to see them roaming happily in their managed habitat.

This gives a feel of the landscape.

A boabab in the reserve.  Boababs can live to be 2000 years old!  The fruit of the boabab is called "monkey bread."

Can you spot the lizard?

Ostriches on the move.  Later, Sylvia was eating an apple near an ostrich and it started coming too close for comfort.  We slowly backed away... 

Elands.

Savannah buffalo.

Skylar in the vehicle... with a friendly neighbor.

Hello!  Bonjour!  Nangadef?

A savanna party.

Bon appetit!

Hey stripes!

What I DON'T have a picture of is the 2 rhinoceroses that we saw.  These rhinos were brought from South Africa, and folks at the reserve are hoping that they reproduce.  The rhinos, because there are only 2 and I guess because they are rhinos, were not easy to find... but our guide was determined!  We did a lot of driving around, analyzing tracks and scat and trying to deduce the path of the rhinos.  We found them near a water hole!  The reason I don't have a picture of them is that our guide repeated several times, "Be careful, be careful," the exact meaning of which I was not clear of as we continued to walk closer and closer to the rhinos, and Sylvia's 5 year old self began to look smaller and smaller and somehow I thought I'd be better equipped to save us from a charging rhino if I didn't have a camera in my hand.  The fact that I had any notion at all of protecting Sylvia  from a charging rhino, camera or no, is a very clear example of hubris.  I'm pretty sure there must be a Shakespeare play depicting this exact scenario.  In any case, the rhinos let us be and continued to enjoy their water hole while we backed slowly away to the vehicle.