Last weekend was surreal. In ways it was just like a summer weekend back home, people getting together to play some baseball. In other ways, the scene was stupefying, with the setting of West Africa. Eight hundred participants descended upon Dakar, the majority of whom are Peace Corps Volunteers from Senegal and surrounding countries. The private American swim club adjacent to the International High School opened their doors to the participants. With a bar, pool, palm trees, second story terrace with an ocean view, and hundreds of Americans in their twenties who haven’t seen their own people nor indulged in alcohol in months, it was Spring Break in Senegal. For three days we played a lot of softball, some teams making valiant efforts (like ours), others too drunk to even care. Out of twenty teams in the social league, we reached the semifinals and ended fourth. Ironically, the garderner of the American baseball field introduced the sport to the local Senegalese three years ago, and ever since, they have made it to the finals. This year one of their teams beat us and finished second in the social league, while one of their competitive league counterparts won the championship. During the finals, by that time I was no longer a competitor but a simple spectator, I joined some of my teammates, who are in the military on assignment to the Embassy, atop a shipping container in deep center field. We watched the game with the ocean as a backdrop and imbibed in the game’s most popular adult drink. What can I say, this year has proven to be nothing short of amazing...
And then there was the Saturday night bash at the Marine House, Ousmane’s-- (Abdoulaye’s brother)--fascination with the scene all weekend, and the old man aches and pains that followed me the whole next week.
This week was a great one at school. The students are now taking class and me more seriously. They are paying attention, taking notes, and seeming to want to really learn English. I have proposed the idea of an English club, and many seem interested. It’s a good feeling leaving work knowing that something you’re doing is working. Yes, the holidays and teacher strikes continue, but I have to focus on the time I do have--the cup is half full.
I had a visit from a former student from North, Ilana Kresch, this past week. She came in to visit a friend who is doing a study abroad program, and we had the pleasure of dining together at my favorite Ethiopian restaurant. She amazed me in her growth and worldly view. She maintains a humble and sincere concern in making the difference she can, while not trying to impose her views or judge others for theirs...extraordinary. She spent time studying in Chile, Ecuador, and most recently Spain. If every young American could have a similar experience in their education, we would have an amazing future in front of us.
Today is Sunday and I am coming back from a run. I’m trying to resume the routine of jogging regularly, yet like in the States, nothing works as planned. However, there is no doubt that the physical activity renews my energy and reanchors me into the optimistic spirit I so love. Last night, Carolyn, an Embassy employee and dear friend, threw a bash. I helped her put together the music mix, and oh what a night! We had about 35 people--Americans, Senegalese, Cap Verdians---throwin down. We had three African drummers do two sets that launched everyone out of their seats and into hynoptic, primordial rythyms. The otherwise sleepy bourgeois neighborhood was rockin.
Aissatou and the beat!
So, among the hardship here is a joie de vivre that is unknown back home. If you can swing it, come visit; Senegal is food for the soul.
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