"Hmmm," I think to myself, sitting at the dining room table working on grades. "The descriptions are good but he forgot some dates. Let's see, that's a....."
Darkness abruptly descends.
":One," I think. "Two, three." I should be thinking in French but I'm kinda' annoyed. This happens like every night. "Four, Five, Six."
"RRrrrrrrrrr," the generator tries to start but fails.
I sit in the dark, waiting and wondering. This is the first time the generator hasn't started right up.
I start counting again. "One, Two..."
"RRrrrrrr. VrooommmmMMMMMMMMM!!!!!" The generator kicks in, the lights flair on and I go back to work, knowing many people in Dakar are now in the dark, listening to the sound of our generator and seeing the bright lights in our house. Maybe this is why we have a guard?
So very often the power goes out. They tell me that as the weather cools, it won't happen as often but the leaves are starting to turn colors in New England and Mom has already driven south for the winter.
Oh, and the city has no water. Again. We had no water for 3 days last weekend. Then, it went out again yesterday. They had enough water at school to get through the school day but if there's no water by tomorrow, there won't be any school. We have some water in a cistern on the roof which lets us flush the toilets and clean the dishes but that will only last for a few days.
Well, as they say, TIA. This is Africa.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Sunday, September 15, 2013
Some pictures of Dakar- from Julienne
This is our street.
This is our house.
Getting in the car.
Basket sellers.
At the grocery store.
Sidewalk vendors: fruit, cellphone minutes, etc.
The gas station.
Outside of the city: waiting for the cows to cross the road.
Playing at the rocky beach.
Outside the city: playing with kids while visiting the family home of our day guard, Fallou.Waterless in Dakar
We arrived in school on Friday to find that the drinking fountains weren't putting out much water. We went on with the day just fine though the toilets began to get stinky.
We woke up Saturday to find there was still no water. The week before, we had started getting a water service for drinking water. Not only is the water that is shipped form Canada (!) almost sweet it's so good compared the heavily chlorinated and filtered water at the school, but it means we started the water outage with 10 gallons of drinking water.
Also on Saturday, I skampered up on our roof. All around Dakar, there are black water tanks on the roofs. Did we have a black water tank? Well, I climbed up and found that indeed, we do! I also discovered that along with a pipe to fill the tank, about 150 gallons of water, we also seem to be missing a way for the water to get back out. There is an outlet pipe but this house recently had a lot of plumbing work done and it seems the out flow pipe was abandon. Sigh.
We woke up Sunday morning to smelly bathrooms, water on the stairs and rain. When it rains, the caulking on the windows has dried up so water pools on the window sills then comes in instead of going out. But, the rain was a chance to get water without trying to scamper up on the wet roof.
So, we collected about 3 gallons of rain water, washed the dishes and flushed the toilets with water to spare. Now the big question - school tomorrow or not? When will the water come on? And, once the water comes on, when will it reach us?
All of the nicer houses in Dakar have their own water storage next to their own pump. The water from the city comes as a trickle and sometimes is off for hours at a time, but with the large reservoirs and our own pump, we don't notice it. Our house has a storage tank with about an 80 gallon capacity (not counting the unusable roof tank.) But, with many houses having these large storage tanks, once the water is turned on, these tanks will start to fill. Since there are about a million (!) people in between us and the main pipe coming from the north of the country, it might take a while for water to get to us.
So, another day without water in Dakar. I'm going out back now to take a bucket shower.
We woke up Saturday to find there was still no water. The week before, we had started getting a water service for drinking water. Not only is the water that is shipped form Canada (!) almost sweet it's so good compared the heavily chlorinated and filtered water at the school, but it means we started the water outage with 10 gallons of drinking water.
Also on Saturday, I skampered up on our roof. All around Dakar, there are black water tanks on the roofs. Did we have a black water tank? Well, I climbed up and found that indeed, we do! I also discovered that along with a pipe to fill the tank, about 150 gallons of water, we also seem to be missing a way for the water to get back out. There is an outlet pipe but this house recently had a lot of plumbing work done and it seems the out flow pipe was abandon. Sigh.
We woke up Sunday morning to smelly bathrooms, water on the stairs and rain. When it rains, the caulking on the windows has dried up so water pools on the window sills then comes in instead of going out. But, the rain was a chance to get water without trying to scamper up on the wet roof.
So, we collected about 3 gallons of rain water, washed the dishes and flushed the toilets with water to spare. Now the big question - school tomorrow or not? When will the water come on? And, once the water comes on, when will it reach us?
All of the nicer houses in Dakar have their own water storage next to their own pump. The water from the city comes as a trickle and sometimes is off for hours at a time, but with the large reservoirs and our own pump, we don't notice it. Our house has a storage tank with about an 80 gallon capacity (not counting the unusable roof tank.) But, with many houses having these large storage tanks, once the water is turned on, these tanks will start to fill. Since there are about a million (!) people in between us and the main pipe coming from the north of the country, it might take a while for water to get to us.
So, another day without water in Dakar. I'm going out back now to take a bucket shower.
Sunday, September 8, 2013
Postcards
After our trip to Thies, Skylar was inspired to make some pop up cards. Video the postcards below!
Postcard from France
Postcard from Senegal
Postcard from France
Postcard from Senegal
Saturday, August 24, 2013
Was that just a bribe I paid?
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!
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!
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.
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