First thoughts of Senegal
Feb 6, 2011
I am in Senegal, and I am blessed to be here. At moments today I was actually overjoyed.
Humid ocean air, thick and polluted, yet somehow refreshing. Old cars and old metal things. Twisted metal bars sticking out of concrete roofs, smelly sewers, children having a damn good time with rocks or sand, or just each other. GOATS so many goats. Women draped in gorgeous cloth carrying brooms or buckets or laundry or children. Lots and lots of men, just...hanging out.
Nothing is made from wood here. Apparently termites eat anything wooden so buildings are plaster with tile, or concrete. Everything is boxy- the buildings are boxes stacked closely together around the ocean. The colors are tan, gray, brown, and white. The roads and alleyways are sandy and narrow. The palm trees look thirsty.
I slept from 6 am til 1pm my first day and when I woke up Siwatu and Ahmina gave me their leftover lunch of rice and fish (SO GOOD) and I took it to the roof. The view was gorgeous and goaty and boxy and sandy and I could see the ocean disappearing into the sky.
Will, Siwatu, Ahmina, Joan, and I walked down to the beach. There was a huge mosque on the beach and we made the mistake of stepping on its grounds before some old men yelled at us. And then they yelled at Will and pointed at us ladies. Apparently they were saying we shouldn’t wear any pants. I nodded respectfully, and laughed for a while when we turned the corner.
Garbage was piled on the beach and women were walking to and from the ocean with their dirty kitchen water. Birds and goats were eating garbage along the shore. Little boys played soccer and horse carts scurried to and fro. It was dirty and public and alive. I thought it was kind of beautiful. Compared with pristine Lake Michigan beaches with no trespassing signs, no people, and oligatrophically desolate waters. Clean and empty and beautiful versus dirty and alive and beautiful.
Feb 7, 2011
Exhausted. I want to blog about the march – maybe I’ll do that in the morning. I want to blog about the political connections between Detroit and Dakar, land grabs, food security, racism, colonialism, disorganization of the forum, and Charity being kidnapped by the rural women.
I am so sunburned. I am so exhausted. Why did I think I could come to Africa with my pasty winter skin and not wear sunscreen? And then ask every other pasty skinned person along the march for some sunscreen like a fool? Kind of cool that most of the folks around me were African, since I was afraid I’d be around a bunch of French folks on activist-vacation. But yes, most folks around me did not have sunscreen, and I am sunburned. Very very sunburned.
The march was amazing and we got to march in front of the South African COSATU folks, and they sang and danced the whole way. I loved them. I love Project South. It was pretty exhilarating.
Exhausted.
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