Furry Friends

Rokko

For those of you who know me well, you know that I’m an animal person. More specifically, I’m a horse-person. As I mentioned in my Christmas blog, I went out to one of the local equestrian centers and found a horse to lease. At first, I was doing a full lease of Rokko, a white Spanish warmblood. That meant that I was fully responsible for how much he was exercised. I thought I’d be able to go out at least 4 times a week, but it ended up being too much. My schedule at the university was constantly changing, so I wasn’t able to go out as consistently as I wanted. Another problem was the fact that it would take me between 30 and 90 minutes to even get out there on the bus. Often the traffic was so bad that I could walk faster, and sometimes did even though it’s quite far.

Because of that and my changing schedule, I went down to a half-lease, which meant sharing him with someone else and only riding 3x a week, which was perfect. I rode him Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, while a 15-year-old French girl rode him the other days of the week. I loved going out on Mondays because the center is technically closed that day, so there aren’t so many people around and I could just enjoy myself without having to worry about people. I was also using Mondays to give my friend Faith beginner riding lessons because I didn’t have to compete with other lessons.

Wednesdays I’d usually go out before I’d go to the US Embassy for the conversation and film clubs, so earlier in the day. That was my day to go out into the park and talk to all the kids. It seems that Wednesdays are popular days for school outings, so sometimes there’d be hundreds of kids in the park.

Rokko loves, loves, loves kids! We drew quite a bit of attention to ourselves because of three factors: most horses aren’t ridden, but pull carts; even as what we in the West would consider a mid-sized horse, Rokko is quite a bit bigger than Senegalese horses; and both Rokko and I are white! He doesn’t mind the attention, and I found it fun to answer the kids’ questions about him while letting them come up one or two at a time and pet him. It was a lot of fun! I ended my lease with him at the beginning of July because of my impending departure, so that was a bit of a bummer. It was great to be able to ride so much while I was in Senegal!

Tera

Day 1: Fuzzball @ 2 weeks old

The other furry friend that I had was Tera, a kitten I rescued off the street in mid-January. I was walking down the street in my neighborhood and almost stepped on this little fuzzball in someone’s driveway. She was so little, but looked to be in good health, with a clean, fluffy coat, and clear, but barely open eyes. I asked the guard that was across from the driveway and he said he’d seen the momma kitty that morning, but not since about 7am. At that point it was about 4pm, so I knew she was hungry, but hadn’t been that way for more than 8 hours or so. I decided she needed to be saved, so I picked her up and brought her to my new apartment.

Then I spent some time looking up how to make kitten formula from scratch, since that’s not something that can be found in Senegal! There weren’t any baby kitten bottles available either, so I had to get her to drink on her own. From what I could tell by looking up what kittens look like at certain stages, she seemed to be about 2 weeks old. I was able to get her to drink out of a jar lid, and continued to feed her every 2-3 hours, gradually increasing the time between feedings over the next couple of weeks. At the beginning it was hard to get her to eat and I was sincerely worried that she wouldn’t make it. Then I had a stroke of luck and found some wet kitten food at one of the large grocery stores, so I started mixing that with her formula, and then some dry kitten food until I finally got her weaned.

It was a bit stressful, but she was such a nice companion to have when I was all alone in my apartment. For the first couple of weeks, she was too little to be up on my bed, which was pretty tall. I didn’t want her to fall off and hurt herself. At about 4 weeks, she was big enough not to hurt herself on too much, so she had free run off the place. At night, she would come curl up on me, snuggle real close to my neck and fall asleep.

Once I was sure she would survive, I decided to stop just calling her Fuzzball and give her a real name. My original plan was to take her back to the US with me as my ultimate Senegalese souvenir, so I wanted her to have a name connected to Senegal. I decided on Teranga, after the Senegalese culture of hospitality: Tera for short. What a fun little thing she was to have around, as kittens usually are. She was always happy to see me when I got home and would come running to greet me as I walked in. Tera would sometimes earn herself the title of “Tera the Terrible” with her kitten antics, but she was cute and a lot of fun. Her playfulness often had her standing on her back legs swiping at something with both front paws, coupled with her ferociousness she earned the nickname “Pterodactyl” as well.

She loved to sit on my friend Brenna’s shoulder when she came over for dinner, always wanting to be in the thick of things. When I would work at my table, she would run around, bouncing off the leather couches and causing general mayhem in my living room until I realized that she just wanted to be able to hang out with me at the table, but there was nowhere for her to go. I realized that if I just put her PillowPet up on the table, she’d snuggle right down and watch whatever was going on. This worked like a charm even when I had 3 people over for a French lesson… I’d forgotten about her PillowPet , and she was being a bit crazy until my friends asked me why she was so hyper. Then I remembered that she just wanted to be next to us, so I put her PillowPet on the table and she snuggled down for the rest of the 2-hour lesson, not leaving her spot until everyone left! They were amazed!

I started questioning my plan to take her home with me when I realized just how much travel that would entail, especially without knowing exactly where I would actually end up. No matter where I was going to be, I would have to drive my car long-distance to get there, not to mention a 5-hour flight, followed by a 4-hour layover and then an 11.5-hour flight. For a 6-month old kitten, that would be asking a lot! So I decided to try finding her a family that would keep her in Dakar and if I didn’t I would make the best of it and take her back with me. I’d remembered that a friend of a friend had mentioned wanting to get a cat for her two little boys, maybe 5 and 7 years old. They’re an embassy family that still has 3 years left at post in Dakar. I ran into her (Koki) one Sunday in May and asked if she was still looking for a cat. I thought she’d be a perfect kitten for boys because she’s super playful, but also fairly snuggly. Koki said they were very interested and could they come that Wednesday to meet her.

Tera with her new family

When they met her, they fell in love with her (of course!) and asked if they could take her that weekend. I was very happy to have found such a good family for her, but I was slightly devastated to have to let her go so soon. I’m sure they would have let me keep her a little longer, but I didn’t want something to happen that would change their mind, so I let them take her that weekend. They really are the perfect family for her, making being without her, alone in my apartment for the last two months, worth it. I was able to visit her at her new home a couple of weeks after she moved out and she seems to be very happy.

Such a good friend and blessing for a little while!

Les Retrouvailles

One Tuesday I get a surprise message on Facebook from my French host mom Blandine: “Hi Shane, are you still working in Senegal? We leave on Friday for a week-long vacation in Saly, 80 km from Dakar with Flore and Sixtine. It would be great if we could see each other!” This is the family I lived with in 2008 when I first went to France! While I wasn’t going to be able to take a whole week off, I was able to arrange a couple of days free, so I quickly booked a room at the same resort as them, which happened to be the same one I stayed at for the conference the first week I was in Senegal!  

I took a taxi down on Saturday and met them poolside. It was go great to see them after so many years! I saw Yves, Blandine, and Sixtine when I passed through Lyon 5 years ago, but Flore wasn’t home when I was there, so I hadn’t seen her in about 9 years. When I got there they were just finishing lunch, so we lounged poolside for a few hours before heading out on a short excursion to the fish market not far from Saly.

We took a horse-cart out to the market and saw all the different types of fish. There were a ton of people around because a few of the large, deep-sea fishing pirogues that go out for a month at a time had come in that day. There were fish and people everywhere! Some of the fish were in containers, but some of the big ones were just sitting on the ground with a bunch of other fish. One type that really stood out to me were the very large sea-snails… mostly because they were just on the beach and obviously still alive and pulsating. I don’t think I’ve ever eaten one of those, and I’m not sure I’d be very interested… I guess it’s all in how it’s prepared?

We stopped in the area where they build the large pirogues and learned a little about how they’re made. It takes about a month to make a large pirogue, but only if all the supplies are available, which is rare, so most of the time it takes 3-6 months. We asked about how someone gets enough money to buy one/get one made and whether or not people take out loans to finance the building of a large pirogue. Loans are not really a part of their culture, so that’s not an option.

The money has to be saved up, and the people who end up buying boats are those who have worked on someone else’s boat long enough to have the money saved up, say, about 25 years or so. Family patriarchs will eventually save enough money to pay for their own boat, on which their male family members will work. If well taken care of, the boat can be used by the family for a few generations until enough money is earned by the son/grandson to buy the next pirogue. It was super interesting to learn about how the fishing industry works in that area.

The next day we went to Joal-Fadiouth, which is an island not too far from Saly that is made completely out of shells. We decided to go out there for Sunday morning Mass, since the population of the island is predominantly Catholic. It actually has the opposite percentages compared to the whole of Senegal, which is 95% Muslim and 5% Christian. The island’s population is 5% Muslim and 95% Christian, and is the most known for their cemetery, which is an entire island itself, connected to the large island by a beautiful wooden bridge.

When the tide is low, you can reach both islands by just walking across the sand that is usually covered with a couple of feet of water. The guide told us that at the lowest tide, the boys play their soccer games on the exposed land, but the games can only last a short amount of time before the tide starts rising again.

We started out our visit of the island by going to Mass, then visited various areas of the island. There are a ton of pigs running around, as well as chickens, donkeys and horses in makeshift shelters. We walked around the island, then over to the cemetery to see all the graves, which were mostly Christian. There was a small Muslim section of the cemetery, but it was only a very small corner. After we visited the island, we stopped and had lunch (fish of course) at a nice spot on the water.

Our next stop was just a quick one to see the open-air fish smoking area, which was huge. Probably a few acres of huge troughs or raised platformsfull of fish being smoked. The fires were located underneath the troughs, and were fed whatever trash they could find to burn. When we got out of the car, the smell was overwhelming, what with the trash in piles all around, plus what was burning, and the smell of the fish… we didn’t stay very long, but it was interesting to see how they cook/smoke the fish that then gets packaged up and sent all over West Africa. I think that experience made Flore and Sixtine decide to never eat packaged fish from Senegal…

The rest of that day was spent poolside, but the next day we took a trip out to the Somone Delta where we did a boat tour of the delta. We saw a good amount of pelicans, as well as people fishing, as we floated around the shallow delta in our little boat. The mangroves there are the same as those I saw while in Martinique, as they’re trees that grow in the mixed salt/fresh water of the delta.

At one point the water wasn’t deep enough, so we actually got out and walked around in about a foot of water. We were able to get close to some birds, and see a sacred, mini-baobab up close. We stopped for drinks at a Rastafarian place at the end of our little boat tour, and the owner/server wanted Flore to be his 3^rd  wife… technically he’s allowed to have four, so he wants at least one of them to be a Toubab. Not sure that explanation was working in his favor, ha ha!

Shhhh.... the rhino is sleeeeeping

Our last day together was spent seeing the animals out at the Bandia Reserve. I had just been there with Angela, but you can’t get too much of rhinos and giraffes, can you?? When we saw the rhinos this time, they were sleeping, so that was cute!! We also tasted Warang liqueur, which is locally made from Bissap (hibiscus), ginger, or another local fruit. I ended up getting some Bissap liqueur, and then my taxi driver was waiting for me to continue on to Dakar while the Emerys were going to head back to Saly. It was amazing to get to spend a few days with them, catching up! I hope it’s not another 5 years before I see them again.

Maison Senghor

La Maison Léopold Sédar Senghor

I’ve visited the Senghor Museum a few times now. It’s not really a museum in the traditional sense of the word because it’s actually just the Senghor home preserved exactly as it was left by the president and his wife. So, about Senghor: he was the first president of an independent Senegal. He is widely known as the “Poet President“ and the father of modern Senegal. I learned about him and read some of his poetry as part of my masters in French literature. This post isn’t really about the life of Senghor, but about the house/museum, so go here if you want to learn more about him.

The visit of the house takes about 45 minutes. Barthélémy Sarr, the man who does the guided visit actually worked on Senghor’s security detail while he was president, which was from 1960 to 1980. This house was built for the Senghors as their residence for after they left the presidential palace in 1980. Mr. Sarr actually oversaw the building of the house and everything that had to be done in order for the former president, his wife and their son to move in. The house was built on the Corniche (the road that follows the coastline of Dakar).

Senghor was passionate about architecture and had the house designed following a concept he’s credited for inventing: asymmetrical parallelism, which is why it’s such an interesting shape. The people of Dakar called it “The Sea’s Teeth” after a film of the same name that had been released in 1975, just 3 years before the building of the house. The architect was French, Fernand Bonamy, as was the interior decorator that they used, Jean-Pierre Brossard.

The Senghors moved into the house in January of 1981, the moment he handed the reigns over to Abdou Diouf, the 2^nd president of Senegal. We learned that Senghor didn’t spend all his time living in Dakar, but also spent time at their property in Normandy, where his wife Colette was from. While he was very involved in the design of the home, tragedy struck in 1981 that left them little affection for the home they had so meticulously created: their son Philippe, who had moved with them into their new house, died in a car accident that June. The Senghors spent less and less time there as the years went on, especially after 1983 when he was the first African to be elected to the Académie Française. After a heart scare in the late 90s, his doctors in France advised him not to travel by plane anymore and he never returned to his home in Dakar, which was practically abandoned. When his wife and eldest son decided to donate it to the Senegalese government, a Senegalese company, Eiffage Sénégal, donated their services in order to restore it to as close to its original state as possible so it could be opened as a museum. None of the interior decorations were changed, and even the books, which were all cleaned a restored, were returned to the exact place Senghor left them.  

As I stated earlier, they commissioned a French designer by the name of Brossard to design their home, which is very interestingly designed. We started out our tour on the ground floor, to see the formal dining room, salon, and Senghor’s larger office where he met with people. The whole formal area is done in muted beiges, pale pinks and off whites, with a beautiful marble table and white leather couches. The book shelves are full of the gifts he received as a head of state, and interesting titles in multiple languages that show the widely varying interests of the poet president.

What I found amusing was how much the décor, the look, and feel of the house changed as soon as we left the formal ‘presidential’ section of the house. The ‘Salon Vert’ was the first private part of the house we saw, where the president and mrs. Senghor entertained their personal guests, friends and family. No more beige and white! A bold, beautiful green covered the walls and the upholstery. Apparently green was Colette Senghor's favorite color, which would be apparent when we went upstairs and saw the other rooms.

But before we went upstairs we stopped at their son Philippe’s room, which was cobalt blue. The walls, the bed, the curtains, the art. It is an ode to the 70s, with graphic art on the walls, a rotary dial telephone and a large stereo system as the centerpiece of the room. The bathroom has a sunken bathtub the size of a public pool Jacuzzi!

We also visited the two guest rooms, one statelier than the other, with beiges and whites, and the other more striking with a burgundy floral pattern adorning the walls and bed. Apparently Mrs. Senghor would show both rooms to her guest and have them choose which they preferred. I think I’d choose the beige room, just because it’s on the corner of the house and therefore has 2 walls with large windows, making it much brighter. After the guest rooms, we saw President Senghor’s room and that of his wife. The funny story that goes along with this particular part of the visit is the stipulation that Colette Senghor put on this part of the visit. You see, when they were decorating the house, Mrs. Senghor gave President Senghor the interior design book Brossard had containing all the options and had him choose his room. Being the head of the household, she felt it was important that he have first choice of the type of room he wanted. He chose the one he liked the most, which happened to be the simplest of the options.

She told him he had to look again and choose a ‘nicer’ room because it wasn’t fitting for a former president to have such a basic room. He told her that she had told him to choose what he wanted and that was what he’d chosen, so that’s what he’d have thank-you-very-much!! Her room, on the other hand, is a bit more luxurious, with the walls covered in a beautiful green floral wall paper and white-lacquered wooden furniture, including a cathedral-esque headboard. Her stipulation to Barthélémy Sarr when the museum opened was that he explain very clearly to people, lest they think badly of her, that she had not chosen a lesser room for her husband, but that he had made that decision himself!

I think my favorite room in the house is actually the one they call ‘La Chambre de Mamie’ because it’s where Colette’s mother stayed when she came for Philippe’s funeral. It is done simply, in various shades of lighter greens. It has a sliding glass door on one wall that leads to a terrace, which makes the room very bright. The sole painting above the bed is of two horse-back riders on a trail in a modern, geometric forest, a nod to Colette’s Normandy roots. The whole house was really interesting and definitely worth the visit, especially when the person giving you the tour is like a museum himself!

Statue of Senghor outside his house

Adventures with Angela: The End

After our unsuccessful day trying to get out to Gorée Island, we took the next day to go out to Madeleine Island (which you can read about here if you haven’t already). The next day was Saturday, our only other chance to get out to Gorée Island, which we did in the morning (you can read more about Gorée here). In the afternoon we went to Rebekah and Hildo’s wedding, friends I met through church.

We are in the same small group at church, and Rebekah & I are both English teachers, so we have a lot in common. They had a nice civil ceremony at the Hotel de Ville (City Hall) and an outdoor, evening reception at a restaurant near where we live (they live down the street from me). It was a lovely celebration and I’m so glad we could join them for it!

For Palm Sunday we decided to go out to the Abbaye Keur Moussar for Mass. My friend Lisa joined us, so that made for a change of pace. Our morning started out a bit rough because I had reserved a taxi with a driver Lisa knew, so when we got there, a taxi pulled up to us at the meeting point (not just on the road, but at a specific meeting point in a parking lot) and I asked him if he’s the driver we had reserved to go out to Keur Moussa, and he said yes. Lisa wasn’t there yet, so I just told him we were waiting for one more person. Lisa pulled up in a taxi and jumped in the one we were going to take. Off we go… but then she realizes it’s not the driver she knows. I ask some more questions, and he has trouble understanding French. Eventually we figure out that it wasn’t the right driver, he wasn’t the one we’d reserved… We call the other driver and he’s back at the meeting point waiting for us. I make the other taxi driver turn around and take us back and we take our actual taxi out there! We’d scheduled a pretty early departure, so we weren’t even late!

The Benedictine Monastery is about an hour outside Dakar and was founded in 1961 when 9 French monks arrived to start the monastery. It earned the title of “Abbaye” in 1984 and is known for its Gregorian chants with African influence. Because it was Palm Sunday, there were a lot more people there than there normally would have been. We did the precession with our palms, then headed to the stairs to see if we could get a seat upstairs and we were lucky enough to get the last few seats, albeit not together. Good thing too, because Palm Sunday mass is the longest one, and they sang the whole thing, which made it even longer. It was pretty cool actually! When it was over we went into their little store and bought a bunch of stuff, including their well-known artisan cheese and CDs of their famous music.

Friendly tortoise coming to say hi to Lisa

Afterwards we decided to stop by the Turtle Sanctuary and see what Fulbright the Tortoise was up to. He’s doing pretty well. Because I’m an adopted parent of one of the tortoises, I get in for free, and Guillermo was nice enough to let Lisa and Angela go in with me. I introduced Lisa and Angela to Bill Clinton as well (you can read more about the Village des Tortues here in my Birthday Blog).

The next day we went out to the Bandia reserve (I went on Christmas morning with the gang, so you can read more about that here). The only major change that happened since Christmas was the horns being removed from the two rhinos. The morning after some poachers broke into a French zoo and killed the rhino right there for its horn, they decided to shave down the horns of the two rhinos out here. They then widely advertised the fact that the rhinos on their reserve have no horns.

Rhino horns are kind of like horse hooves in the sense that they can be shaved down to a certain point without causing harm to the animal. They will also eventually grow back, but it does take a while. Since these rhinos are on a reserve, they do not need their horns for defensive purposes, so it’s safer for them not to have the horns at all.

The next day was Angela’s last, but her flight was very late at night, so we went to the Senghor museum (the subject of my next blog) and hung out on the beach. All in all it was a great time hanging out in Senegal with Angela!!