Naka kor gi ? Yaangiy war ?

Laaj nga mbotta geen= You ask for the tail of a frog. Or, you ask for the impossible.
Or, more relevantly, to ask a non-Muslim Toubab to go without water or food until sundown for thirty days in triple digit heat is to ask for the impossible.

We’re in the swing of Ramadan, and this place looks like a ghost town. I am eating like a good Catholic, despite constant encouragement to fast like a good Muslim. My little brother, Fallou, has been scolding me for not praying with them. Don’t all fall in love with Fallou, he’s a hard-headed little punk; I only tell you the cute stories. Speaking of little brothers, I’ve got a new one! Muhammad Niang was born on 12 September, 2007. This may be the most official recording of the event.

In other news, I hit the one year mark last week! I had some starry-eyed new volunteers in town to ring in the occasion. It’s strange to think back on the early days of Moustapha Niang…For an abridged version, read this blog in its entirety.

Breaking the Color Barrier

I got on the field in the football stadium yesterday! It was a real game, and I had on a uniform and everything! You would have been so proud, Mom! The other kids snickered and called me mean names, but I told ‘em: ‘Hey! Don’t mess with me! I can play football just like you guys!’ And I did. I felt like Jackie Robinson out there (Mr. Robinson is a hero, and I have nothing but respect. I just can’t resist making light of my goofy life.).

But my team lost, and unfortunately we’re done for the year, so that’s the end of that escapade. There’s always next year…Which reminds me- I hate to invoke the spirit, but everyone in Chicago knows where I’m going with this one.

The Cubs! Now fingers crossed, toes crossed, lord willing, in sha allah, etc. but is it possible, could it happen? I doubt this is the year, sorry Mom. But we sealed up the division!

Besides, what do I know; I ride camels around all day. Yesterday, I informed my host sister that baseball is in fact not the same sport as volleyball.

Fallou Niang!

Get your hair did

Host Sisters Mary bundow and Ndeye Ami

I love the plastic bag rain cover hat. Very Derelicte

Host mom and I

Ana sarice bi ?

I just got back from my America trip, and I was so happy to see a lot of you! All my inshallah-ing paid off. There were Cubs games, and parks, and road trips galore. Well done. The highlight had to be the Adam and Amy Moreland wedding, two of the best people I’ve ever met. Congratulations!

I got a good question or two such as ‘Is Senegal black & white since color is too expensive?’. However, the prize has to go to one of my favorite Senegalese, Aliou Cisse. This guy is old and old school (not Adidas old school, Senegalese old school), always wearing traditional clothes, a knit cap (even when it’s 115 degrees), and a huge goofy grin. I ran into him a couple of days after I got back, and he inquired ‘Ndax nampa nga?’. As my latest Wolof student, my (real, American, and best) mother, can attest, this question is not in the standard greetings. I had never been asked this question before and had forgotten what ‘nampa’ means. Cisse then asked me if I had missed my mom, to which I responded with a hearty ‘Waaw, waaw! (Yes, of course!)’. He then repeated his original question. I still didn’t understand. Then the combination of the words mom and breast rang a bell, and I doubled over with laughter. He had asked me if I breastfed while I was home since I missed my mom so much.

Back to the Lab

Coming back to site was even smoother than I thought it would be, and despite not wanting to leave you on the other side of this blog, it is good to be back. I never thought I’d see it here, but the rains have brought grass! This place looks completely different, it’s awesome. I’m hoping for a new start and a fresh perspective to get some more good things going with work (hopefully more classes and a couple trainings), as well as doing my best not to take any of this life for granted.

The other night I came back to my house to find my host sister being led away sobbing. Scorpion. We went to our neighbour, the local scorpion/snake expert. This is the same guy who protected me from snakes a couple months ago by flicking some elixir at my feet and hands. He took a look at my sister’s stung toe. He snapped at it. He mumbled something. He waved at it. He asked her to stamp her foot. He snapped and waved at it some more. I was watching this half trying not to laugh and half trying to see whether this guy would actually do anything legitimate to take away the pain. He did not. Just snapping, waving, and mumbling. He straightened up, sent us on our way, and said to me with great confidence, ‘See, I took care of it’. I looked sceptically at my now calm host sister and asked her if it was better. She said it was. As much as I want to mock beliefs like this, how do I know he didn’t cure her? She looked better to me…

What do you think? Does this guy have some intrinsic knowledge/power of scorpions and snakes or is he just a crock? Consult Life of Pi before you jump to any conclusions…