Monthly Archives: April 2012

Cultural Whiplash

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Sometimes I have days where I feel reasonably secure in my ability to function in my life here in Dakar. Other times, I feel like I may in fact be completely broken. Today I had both of these experiences within about five minutes of each other, and felt what I can only describe as cultural acquisition whiplash.

The positive experience was–as almost all of my positive experiences are–an interaction with my tailor, Ousmane. I like him both because he makes me pretty, pretty clothes and because he is the most deadpan human being that I have met since leaving the United States. He’s great.

I was passing by his shop this evening with a friend when I saw him outside taking a smoking break. We waved. He waved back. Then, he hissed at me (the way that most folks here indicate, “I don’t remember your name despite knowing the circumfrence of your entire body, but I have something to tell you”). Continue reading →

I Performed a Pelvic Exam. Yeah.

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So, at the end of five days and a very bumpy four-hour ride in a sept-place, I am officially back from Ndaufanne. Huzzah!

As per the last post, I was in Ndaufanne (about an hour outside of Kaolack) in order to look at health care in Senegal, mostly due to the fact that I checked the “healthcare” box on the placement form because it looked interesting. Let it never be said that my decision process is a great one.

The story of what happened in Kaolack is a boring one (short hour: ungodly early sept-place ride, a lot of waiting, really good chebu jen at APROFES). However, on Tuesday I was sent away with a clump of girls to go be village-placed. We were all under the impression that we would be dropped off together, which made it somewhat startling when there was about an hour of savanna between each of us. Everyone else in the group was in an electricity-less village where no one spoke French.

However, I unintentionally placed out of that experience with my choice of area–pretty much all of the health care providers in Senegal speak French, since they’re university-educated. Though a lot of the conversations around me during the week were going on in Wolof, I was never more than two feet away from an obliging translator. Everyone was incredibly nice. In addition, because I was living with the clinic’s doctor, I had electricity to spare. It was pretty sweet.

Continue reading →