One Month in Africa

It's hard to believe that my first month in Africa has come and gone. While some things have become routine, like squat toilets and super spicy food, other things are still foreign like the complete disregard for time and the way in which I am treated.

This weekend was a real treat. A Peace Corps bus took all of us to these waterfalls about 20k from the training site. Here we got to dress like Americans and even act like Americans! I ended up dropping a whopping eighty grand on lunch and it was worth every penny. While I'll take hummus any day in the States, after a month, it was just spectacular. This was also the first time since being here that I was given ice! Granted it was a single cube, but it was incredibly refreshing. The waterfalls were gorgeous, the weather was perfect, and it was a good break from training life.

Last night I once again stayed up until midnight talking with my host brother on the front porch. I'm amazed that we are able to talk so much with French being both of our second languages. However, that might be what brings us together since we are both strangers in a strange land! There are many times where I know words in English but can't translate them into French, and it's the same with him and Wolof. None the less, he asked me about Protestants and we talked about the differences between them and catholics. Before I came to Africa, he said he had no idea protestants even existed. We also talked about our mutual lack of proficiency in Susu, how Africans/Americans view drinking, the difference between the metric system and what the US uses, and developed countries (because every Senegalese loves to talk about how their country is way more developed than Guinea).

Today I leave for a three-day training workshop in Mamou, and then I'll spend a few days at my future site (so no internet for at least 10 days)! I really have no clue what to expect. I don't expect it will be much like Dubreka, but I also don't think it is your typical minuscule village either. So here goes! I've got my backpack on my back and my camera around my neck and I'm ready to head out, but before I do, I'll leave you all with a tragically funny story...

So I was sitting on the roof when my brother's friend asked me how many kilo's I weighed. I proceeded to explain that we don't use kilo's in the states. However, I remembered that my phone had a converter so I was able to tell him how much I weighed. I then asked him if it was normal to ask girls how much they weigh because it's impolite in the United States. He told me he needed to know if I was going to break what I was sitting on. I was sitting on a slab of cement!! However, now they don't tell me that I'm too skinny so at least something good came out of it. I don't think I'll ever get used to the fact that being called fat is a compliment here.