St Louis Jazz Fest

There's a lot to write about, and not that much time left. I don't know if anybody actually reads this, anyways, but here goes.

The last couple weeks have been very eventful. I've been traveling a lot, so it's been tiring. I went to Ranérou on June 4 for a public declaration of female genital cutting (FGC) and child and forced marriages. The event was good, but I don't really want this blog to be about my work, so if you want to know more about it check out the Tostan blog. I also went to and came back from Ranérou yesterday. It's 2-3 hours each way, not very far in distance but the road is difficult. It's so bumpy, hot, and dusty, and yesterday we had to stop numerous times for somebody who was road-sick.

On Monday, the day before yesterday, I got back from a trip to St. Louis for the Jazz Festival. On Thursday I left Ourossogui early and got to St. Louis in the evening. The weekend was a lot of fun. I stayed at a place called Le Pelican, which was alright. It had a compound with four huts that sleep 3-4 people attached to a building with 5 or 6 rooms and a restaurant. The restaurant was overpriced and out of stock of most things, and some of the rooms were overpriced for what they were. I think it's always awkward when places try to be nice by having Western toilets, but those toilets don't have seats, nor toilet paper. Using a Western toilet Turkish-toilet-style is really awkward.

The restaurant not having change brings up an issue for us, the toubabs in Senegal. It's a big pet peeve, because when we get money out of the ATMs here, they spit out 10,000 and 5,000 CFA bills, $10-20 approximately. If you don't live in a big town and you're not doing a lot of gift buying, you don't spend much money here. Getting change for a 25CFA bag of water or 100 CFA loaf of bread is usually unrealistic if you pay with a 10,000 bill. But, that said, if you're spending a couple thousand CFA at a hotel restaurant they should be able to give you change. They should have a bank account, and be able to go to the bank every so often to get smaller bills. Le Pelican didn't do that. But most people who sell goods here don't understand that they would make more money if they had change. Many vendors make money during the day but don't bring any of it to work the next day. Sometimes here you try and buy a mango or something and they don't have change, so you don't buy it.

Sorry for that rant; I'll continue with the St. Louis summary. The weekend was really fun. The night when most people were around, a Peace Corps volunteer based in St Louis reserved a bar, where he DJed and there were drink specials. Unfortunately a few people got pickpocketed by a crowd of people hanging out in the street, who promptly ran away when the police showed up. My friends and I went to another bar nearby, where there was great Senegalese music, some dude swallowing fire, and me dancing like an idiot. Definitely the best night I've had in Senegal.

Unfortunately the next night I got sick. We had gone out to the Institut Français for happy hour and to listen to Chico Correa and the Electronic Band (kind of cheesy name, but really good band from Brazil). Then to dinner at Le Kora, which was simply but tasty. At the end of the meal, I decided I needed to go back to the hotel. I had a fever that only lasted for a couple of hours, which was weird but now I'm better and I think that's the end of it. But yeah, St. Louis is a cool town. More laid back than Dakar. Stuff is cheaper, there's really good food, and I was able to go bodysurfing a little bit. If you go, check out the French-owned Le Kora restaurant, the Vietnamese restaurant called La Saigonnaise, and a Senegalese place called La Pirogue, which has basic but good meat, seafood, and Senegalese food. Oh, and the last night I stayed at the Atlantide, also known at the Auberge de la Jeunesse. It was basic but not too expensive.

Coming home, I left St Louis on Sunday around 3:30 PM, which was too late. I got a carapide, a mini-bus, for the first ~50km leg, then a bus another 100km or so before I got dropped off, 25km from my final destination of Ndioum, at 11:15 PM. It took forever and I was about to spend the night on the road. Luckily a couple women who were going to the same town got somebody to pick them up, so I got to the Peace Corps house in Ndioum a little after midnight, crashed, and made it back to Ourossogui the next day. Kind of a logistical nightmare, but a fun little vacation. More to come really soon, on topics instead of my daily life.