A bunch of little things

As far as I know, the strike at UCAD continued for the rest of the week, but they're back on now. I didn’t hear too much about it, but I found out about some of the university’s problems. Apparently, it’s technically open to anyone who passes their Bac (a huge exam at the end of high school), but the administration does not admit many students. This is not because they’re looking for a lot of solid extracurriculars and leadership experience, but because there simply isn’t enough physical space for them. Apparently, some classes are so overcrowded that students sit on the floors or try to listen in from the hallways. It’s a catch-22; students, both current and prospective, want the administration to deal with the overcrowding and to admit more people.

They sell Magnum bars here. For 1200 francs (the price of a whole meal plus beverage at WARC) you can get yourself a slice of packaged European ice cream heaven on a stick.

My siblings are slightly shocked at the fact that I have no idea how to cook and have started to include me in making meals. Usually this means that they invote me to stand in the kitchen while they do all the work, but a few nights ago, I helped Kiki make mayonnaise in the food processor, and over the weekend I sliced carrots and some other white tuber thing that went into our lunch. My uncle said that before I leave I’m going to have to cook a meal for everyone all by myself. Moussouba tells me I have to be able to cook ceebujen for my family when I go home. It occurs to me now that my culinary ignorance might be something to mention when I am proposed to next. No Senegalese man wants a wife who can’t cook.

Moussouba made me an outfit. It’s a very tight knee-length skirt with a billowy white top that she embellished with beads and rhinestones. The colors are pretty and it fits me like a glove but I must say, it’s not really my style. I wore it to Mass last weekend but I don’t know how much wear it’s going to get. That skirt is awfully restrictive of movement. I asked Moussouba the other day how she knew what size I was without measuring me, and she just said, “Oh, we’re the same size.”

My oldest brother, Daniel, has a pet parrot named Sam. I’ve been told that this bird is more than 20 years old, which I actually believe. He certainly looks old. I suspect that he has mad cow disease, or a Yeerk, or some other brain illness. He’s always scratching his head like there’s something in there that he wants to get out. He can’t fly, but his cage doesn’t latch properly, so he gets out and walks around the back of the house all the time. No one seems to have any affection for him except for Danny. Anita in particular likes to mention that he is useless and we should just cook and eat him.

Around 5 or 6 PM, the beignet ladies join the ranks of the street vendors. Beignets are basically just balls of fried dough. They can be plain and sprinkled with sugar or stuffed with meat or fish. They’re cheap, delicious, and are the perfect snack to keep you going between lunch at 1 and dinner at 9. Ryaunte and I got some as we were walking home from WARC the other day.

Dad, they have pomelo flavored Fanta here. I haven’t sampled one yet, but maybe I’ll bring one back for you.

In case anyone was hoping for an update on Les Deux Visages d’Ana, here you go: Vicente has discovered that his older brother, Ignatio, who their father is grooming to take over the family company, has been cooking the books. Vicente decided that he had to tell someone about this, but that it would be a good idea to go out on the family yacht so that he could be by himself to think about this. Ignatio realized that Vicente had discovered his duplicity, so he hopped on the other family yacht in order to go after him and keep him from spilling the beans. Ignatio boarded ship and had a heated argument with Vicente. When it became clear that Vicente was not going to keep his mouth shut, Ignatio punched him out and then dumped his unconscious body overboard. He then sped back to shore, where the family soon realized that Vicente was missing. The search and rescue was not going well, but the last nail in Vicente’s coffin was the suicide note that Ignatio planted on his laptop. Everyone now thinks that Vicente killed himself, and Ignatio’s plot seems to be undetected. What will happen next??

One of the girls here, Marecca, has gotten malaria already. She caught it early and only had to take medicine for a few days, so she’s doing fine now, but still. That sucks. It’s really only topped by her roommate, Hanna, who managed to get shingles about a week in.