My Trip to Kaolack, or I Hate Everything

The ride to Kaolack was a lot shorter than I expected. It took about 2 hours when I was expecting 3. Nice surprise. I got out at the gare routière and took a taxi to the house of my old host family. I miraculously remembered where it was despite the fact that I spent only 2.5 weeks there 3 years ago. One good marker is the giant baobab tree directly across the street. Everything was pretty much just as I remembered it but the wierdness was just about to begin.

After I had put my stuff away in my room, I went outside to watch TV (I'm sure this sounds very strange but it gets hot in the house so they watch TV outside in their courtyard). A little while later, the dad pulled into the driveway in his car. As he was getting out I kind of waved at him but he gave no response. As he walked closer he was looking at me like, "Who the heck are you?" Finally he said, "Oh, it's you." Then he asked me what my name was and walked into the house. Meanwhile the mom is having an asthma attack.

Then they had some friends who came over, which isn't at all unusual. They were just chatting a bit and trying to help Madame Sow (the mom) feel better. After talking for a while in Wolof, they asked me if I wanted to come with them to see if two computers at ASBEF worked. I said yes. What a big mistake that turned out to be!

The entire duration of the stay: 3 hours, beginning at about 9 pm and ending at midnight with no dinner beforehand.

It turned out that they weren't actually checking to see if the computers wirkd but instead installing printers. They started installing the first printer in the accountant's office while I sat in the mosquito-filled main office with one of their wives. Everything was fine and I was only a little annoyed by the standard questions that she was asking (Why aren't you married? Don't you want a Senegalese husband?) Finally she asked me for my address and phone number....still not that strange. Then she started repeating to herself, between intermittent mumbling to herself in Wolof, "Aïcha (my Senegalese name)is my friend. We met today." It only got better when she started telling me that I should be her husband's 3rd wife (and then we could be "sisters"). She also decided that she should tell him this when he came into the room. So we had a conversation about why I didn't want to be his 3rd wife. Sweet, just the conversation I have been preparing myself for all these years.

Once the first printer was installed, I started getting hopeful that th installations would soon be over and we would be able to leave. Well, it took them a ridiculously long time to figure out that the printer wouldn't install in the second computer, after which they decided to try installing it on the laptop computer. This also didn't work. I was getting to my wits end at this point but knew I couldn't really say anything too harsh because I didn't know these people. I had had enough of sitting in the room, watching things not work, talking to people who aren't right in the head, and being bitten by mosquitos. Finally I told them that I wanted to go home and the wife said, "Oh, do you want to take a taxi?" I thought I finally had my way out. When I said yes, she told me that I couldn't because it wouldn't have been "prudent" of me and Madame Sow had said I needed to stay with them. I had made the mistake of leaving the house with no money or I might very well have just marched out the door anyway.

With nothing else left to do, I decided to go see what the problem with the laptop actually was. It turns out that when the guy tried to open the installation disk it would say something about not being able to find the material needed. After this, he would try to open it a different way and it still wouldn't work. Then he would restart the computer. I think this is what he had been doing for an hour. I finally told him that it was a problem with the drive and that he could restart the computer a thousand times and it would never work. He acknowledged this fact like he had already thought of it. Why he kept retrying I'll never know.

Finally we got to go home where I was served cold mouton for dinner with lots of bony chunks (I don't actually know what they were because I never turned on the overhead light to examine them).

The next day I went to the clinic where I had interned for about 3 weeks. It too is pretty much the same as I remember. I spent the first part of the morning in the clinic and then went with a group of people into 2 surrounding villages to conduct meetings about a nutrition program that they would soon be starting. It was interesting and also boring, unfortunately. The meetings were in Wolof and I could only understand snippits. I tried to enjoy it because I know its a very unique experience, but it's hard to sit for hours and not understand much and get carted around from place to place without really knowing where you're going.

The rest of the week I spent bored out of my mind at the clinic because again, all I could really do was observe and search for files (see picture below). Also, there's pretty much no one at the clinic after 2 pm.

Instead of recounting every detail of my stay, I would like to describe 2 people to you.

The dad, Monsieur Sow: The second night that he came home he also acted as if he didn't recognize me and again asked my name. He then went into the house and I didn't hear from him again until the phone started ringing. He yelled for the maid to get it (she was out buying something) and then for his wife to get it (she was praying) and since neither of them answered, instead of walking to get the phone himself, he walked outside to see why no one was responding to him. Night 3: He recognized me at last! His wife had gone to Dakar for a meeting at ASBEF headquarters so he decided to call her. For some reason she hung up on him twice in a row. A little while later he came back in and told me be was going to get a beer. He is Muslim and this is strictly prohibited. Night 4: He remembers me again! He goes into the house and later in the evening I hear him yelling at his wife (she had returned from Dakar). He was speaking Wolof but I could kind of tell what he was saying. My hunch was confirmed when he came back out of the house to tell me, "You don't know what's going on but it's not right. I wanted to drink a glass of water but I didn't have a glass. The maid wasn't there and my wife wasn't there. Is that normal? Is that what would happen at your house?" Well, I don't think he really wanted to hear what I had to say about that so I jsut kind of shrugged and he eventually went back into the house.

Ndeye: The woman who cleans at ASBEF but mostly just hangs around there during the day. I never really liked her when I was there in 2002 because she was always asking if she could have my things and bothering me because I couldn't speak Wolof (but I've improved a lot since then so that isn't so much a problem anymore). One of the first things she said to me was, "What did you bring me as a gift?" so I told her I brought myself. Apparently that wasn't good enough because then she asked if she could have my jean jacket. She kept doing this periodically during my stay. She even told me that I should being her to the US with me to be my maid.

There are more stories but my brain is getting tired and this entry is getting really long!

Conclusion: Kaolack is a very strange place with strange people and I can now see why I went crazy there is 2002. Time seems to stop there and my 3 day stay dragged on and on. It obviously would have been better if I had friends to visit, etc. but the town doesn't have much going for it. It's basically a transit stop that connects 5 major roads, is FULL of garbage and smelly water, is ridiculously hot (33 C in mid-Feb...that's a little over 90 F), has many flies and MANY mosquitos. I feel bad saying this but I wish it would have just been a transit spot for me. Overall though, I'm glad that I went back to see my host family (well, the mom at least). I think it meant a lot to them.





Charts in disarray!



House - View from front gate