Homestay

written March 24, 2007


We returned from our village visits on Thursday, and on Friday Peace Corps sent us all to live with families around Thies for the next seven or eight weeks, until it is time to go to our villages. This way we have a chance to practice the languages we are learning and to get to know Senegalese culture a little better.

Yesterday was also when we first learned what language each of us will be studying, as they assigned us each to a family that speaks the language we will learn. I am going to learn Mandinka, which means most likely the village I will be assigned to will be somewhere in the south. I am pretty excited about it, as I had been sort of hoping to be assigned to the south - which is green and humid, unlike the north, which is dry and desert-y. Although I'm sure the north would be a great place to go too, and I want to travel to wherever I don't get sent so that I can experience everything.

So far homestay is great. The family speaks French as well as Wolof and Mandinka, so we are able to communicate that way. It is traditional for the families to give each volunteer a Senegalese name, because it is easier for Senegalese to pronounce and remember, plus it is just fun. So my name now is Fatou Kebe. It's taking a while to get used to it. My host mother is always calling for Fatou, and I never answer right away because my first reaction is that Fatou is not me. But I'm getting faster. When I go to the village, though, they will give me a new name, and I will have to get used to that one. It's a little weird being called by a name that isn't yours. I feel like I'm lying when I introduce myself to people as Fatou.

Last night for dinner we ate meat and potatoes on a big communal plate, Senegalese style, with our hands. It tasted just like American pot roast to me. So good. They also gave me my first frozen juice, which are very popular here. The one I had was mango flavored, I think, but they sell lots of other flavors. You buy them from street venders in little plastic baggies, and then to eat them you just bite a hole in the corner and suck the juice out. It was delicious. And having something cold to eat or drink, after several days of drinking hot water in the village, was just heaven.

Today for lunch, though, we had rice with what I fear was a sheep's head. I asked what kind of meat it was, cause it was definitely not beef, and my host mother said something like "mourron". Which I looked up in the dictionary and it doesn't exist. But it sounds very similar to "moutton", which is sheep. So maybe that's what she said. Either way, it was a head of something, because I saw a jawbone and ate something that looked like tongue. Luckily I had just had lunch at the Peace Corps center, so I was able to tell them that I had already eaten and get away with only eating three bites of the head.

We should be having dinner soon. Wonder what it will be.