Doors

I've come to the realization that I have a fascination with doors. I love the mystery, the mystical possibility of a doorway, the something wonderful awaits one on the other side.  It's the Alice in Wonderland of it, the what's - behind - door - number - one of it, the path to another dimension of it.

These were all taken on Goree island, best known for its role in the Atlantic slave trade. According to John, it represents a perfect example of French colonial/creole architecture. Gorgeous, breathtaking, and magical.

Door, where you been, door?

 

Beauty, beauty, beauty, beautiful

This is Khoutoum Ngor, a pilgrimage site at the farthest point west in Africa. Pictured is the cave where the Layenne, one of the religious orders that John is studying, believe that after the prophet Muhammad died, his spirit settled here for 1000 years. At night, his spirit would travel the world in search of a place to be reborn. The Layenne come here annually to celebrate the start of their Order. There is a lighthouse here that the French built (not pictured) which the Layenne believe that the French were guided by God to build. The French built it because ships were crashing into the cliffs, but the Layenne claim it represents the light of the spirit of Muhammad.

More of the locals

Yes, the camel is sticking it's neck through the cage. Good thing he's friendly. Not much for cage maintenance, these Senegalese.

Meet the locals

We took a trip to the local zoo. It has been "upgraded" since the last time we were there.  Last visit, the cage bars were wide enough for the small monkeys to slip through! It's small, but the animals are fantastic. The chimp was quite entertaining. He would sort of strut around and turn somersaults for the crowd. He would also make rude noises until someone fed him a piece of fruit. The cats were gorgeous; intimidating, but I couldn't help but feel unhappy that they were caged.  They would roar and pace for the crowd, especially the lions.  D. took a stuffed monkey of his that looked just like the caged ones. He would show it to the live monkeys to see the response. One looked and looked at it, then showed it's teeth! The other hung onto the bars and reached for it in a sad, sort of longing way. We stopped teasing them after that.  My favorite was the turtles. I just love them. Of course, did we get a picture? Nope. Pooh!  The bird pictured here was just flying around - the pic really doesn't do it justice. It had an indigo/purple irridescence to it. The odd thing? Both rabbits and pigeons were caged. Yes, pigeons! We had a laugh about that. What would a Senegalese think upon a visit to Chicago or New York?  We saw baboons, hyenas, camels, ostriches, hares, porcupines. There was another kind of primate that would catch the peanuts tossed to it.  Unfortunately, there were only one or two signs naming the animals, most were unmarked. I'll post more pics at another time, both to keep y'all coming back, and because it takes so long to load the pictures.

 

Ba beneen yoon. Yendoo ak jamm.

Routine, interrupted

I see that our president is tackling health care. We had our own experience with the health care system here. Recently, we spent a joyous day at the beach. Perfect weather, great waves for body surfing, lots of swallowed ocean water. The next day my daughter had a fever. A very high fever (I know. What's a mom to do? In all honesty, this is something that could have happened at home. Every year, it seems that beaches are closed more and more frequently). It's scary to be in a foreign country with a really sick kid. I mean, she was waxy, gaunt, and wasting away. I was frightened. Thankfully, Lea, the woman with whom we are staying, took us to a private clinic where she takes her own kids. Outside of the place is a window where you pay your money (about $4.00) and wait to be seen on a first come, first served basis. It was very clean inside, with a nice aesthetic. Open windows and entryways let a nice breeze in, and the staff was pleasant. We waited a little over an hour to see the MD. He was thorough, kind, and even spoke a little English. Ends up R. had an intestinal bug. He gave us a prescription and suggested we have her tested for malaria, just to be safe. All told, we were there 2 hours and a quarter. I would have waited much longer if we were at home, methinks, in urgent care. What a relief.  R. is much recovered, just fatigued and way too thin.  A satisfying experience; one I could have done without, but, c'est la vie. I'm still very apprehensive and watching her like a hawk. I may take her for a follow up appointment right when we get home.

The rainy season has begun, and the flies are wretched!! My husband and son must have killed close to 30 of them in the living room the other day. Thus, I was poetically inspired to pen my first Haiku:

Black and bloated, winged

Annoyed, I swat at the air

Flies, how I hate you.

 

And another:

 

Buzzing in my ear

The horse has an advantage

I long for a tail.

With that, I make my exit. Yendoo ak jamm.

 

 

 

 

Raffett na!

Senegalese couture, tailor made pour moi. 

Pecking order

This past Sunday we attended a celebration for a newly appointed religious politician within one of the orders John is studying. Basically, it boiled down to a political rally. Many words of praise, prayers, music and dancing. It became apparent to me that there was a definite caste system in place. The officials, all male, sat on a dias above everyone else, and are the highest class. Then, the griots - both the drummers and the women who dance, sing and rally for cheers. The woman above with the whistle in her mouth is a griot. They provide the music, and tell the stories in praise of the new "chief". The women themselves could be divided into their own hierarchy. There are the griot women, the "average joe" women, and the women married to important men, who ranked higher up the pecking order. They are the women sitting near the men, or standing and clapping. Women would pay respects to other women of a higher class by shaking hands, and photographers were sure to take pictures of these women. I learned that the more important the woman, the bigger the headdress - the fabric tied around their heads in an intricate knot - and the later the arrival. The women were pushy, in that they insisted upon chairs placed as close as possible to the action, even if there wasn't room. We ended up knee deep in  colorful, pushy African women. It was an interesting experience. Being white, we garnered a lot of looks from the women. We got there early (mere peons, we are, to be on time!) and secured good seats - until the women came and insisted upon 4 more rows to be added in front of us, before all was said and done. I really enjoyed the drumming, and the dancing, although the whistle blowing became soooo annoying. Most importantly, John obtained excellent resources for his work. Baax na (very good)!