food sentences...ya know, sentences about food

our fridge is currently on the outs. our whipping cream is curdling.

our freezer is stock full of rice and whole wheat flour. really, like 8lbs of flour. (to kill weevils)

sometimes we go through an insane amount of matches trying to get our oven pilot light going.

instead of just containers of flour and sugar on the counter i have also added insecticide.

there is no dishwasher or garbage disposal. luxuries i certainly miss.

i have learned to make my own ranch dressing, syrup, and ricotta cheese. who knew???

a staple senegalese meal consists of rice, potatoes, carrots, and sauce and lots of onions.

i love that you can get fresh bread at any of the neighborhood boutiques.

kyle typically watches the girls while i finish dinner, however, last month i came out of the kitchen and found the following...true story.


patiently waiting charlie



mischievous maeve



kyle, self-explanatory...


some regular items at stores in the states look a bit different in Senegal.  guess the vegetable below.

answer: the wimpiest celery i have ever seen.

bleaching fruits and vegetables doesnt sound strange to me anymore.




 



my cooking skills here in Senegal have been seriously challenged. i will overcome.



maybe we aren't so different after all

tabaski, oh tabaski...basically its alot of sheep.

once upon a time a man named abraham had a son, ishmael (and isaac). God had abraham sacrifice his son,ishmael. sad. just before the sacrifice was to be made, God provided a sheep instead. happy.

so to celebrate the Lord's provision, muslims celebrate once a year on the holiday known as tabaski.

sheep lot

a few weeks prior to tabaski sheep lots started going up. muslims rushed out to pick the best sheep their money could buy ($200-$1000).  the sheep were thrown in the back of cars and trucks or strapped to the roof and happily delivered home.


ram in the back of a taxi


preparations were made for the big day well in advance, new clothes tailored, gifts bought, special dishes brought out. travel plans made to return to the village to see friends and family.

a bit nuts here in muslim country.

other side of the globe...

a fallen world seperated from God. sad. Jesus born to be our ultimate sacrifice to restore our separation from God. happy

so to celebrate God's greatest gift, christians celebrate once a year on the holiday known as Christmas.

picking out the christmas tree to bestow in the window. figuring out a way to get it home...

black friday christmas shopping, new outfits for Christmas pictures and church, Christmas lights and Christmas dishes, crazy holiday travel from one family to the next...

the sanity of a christian country?

Who is in my shower?

my knight in shining armor comes in the form of a late 20's, Senegalese lady who comes to my house 3x a week.  we call her Therese. 

oh the things she does!  she cleans. goes to the market and gets fresh fruits and vegetables. cleans and cuts the produce. watches my children.  takes me to the fabric market and barters for low prices, helps me with my french. and is a seamstress by trade. 
on top of that she has a great personality and i really like her!  it is amazing how God answers prayers. before we even came to Senegal, kyle had on his prayer list to help us find a good fit for us in regards to househelp. Voila! or maybe an Amen!

most of the missionaries in Dakar have househelp in some form. whether they come for a full day, 1/2 days, or have cooks. 

it is pretty well expected that us, as white(toubabs) americans, would and should have househelp. we are quite wealthy in comparison and it is seen as right for us to share our wealth.

therese came to us by a recommendation of an employee at Dakar Academy. Therese cleans for them 2 days a week and was looking for more work. i found out on a Weds that my previous help was no longer available and on Friday Therese was at my door by 8am. No interview or contract or background check...

Some oddities of house help are that they leave a pair of shoes at your house and take showers in your bathroom before they go for the day. Senegalese deem outward appearence as very important so Therese will show up for work looking all fancy. Head straight to the bathroom and come out 5 mins later ready to work.

We definetly have some language barrier issues, but for the most part everything gets done eventually. so what if i end up with 4 green peppers when i asked for pears. or it takes us 5 trips to 2 stores over a course of 3 hours to get 1 frozen chicken. we are making it work and am pretty sure i am going to desperately miss her when we are back in the states!

faith

Talibe

here begins my feeble attempt to explain a talibe center...

Who: volunteers (missionaries) create centers in the city for talibe boys.
          and who are the talibe boys?
talibe boys are boys (ages 5 and up i believe) who are sent from their village to the city(Dakar) to learn and study the Koran from a teacher (known as a Marabout) and live in a daara (communal living 20-30 kids). Marabout go out to different villages in Senegal and recruit boys to come and study Islam and the Koran. Most of the day however is spent begging for food and money rather than learning. giving alms to the poor is one of the 5 pillars of Islam. the talibe boys get plenty of practice learning that principle!


talibe boys and neighborhood children at the center


What: the Talibe Center is set up to provide one meal a day, showers, reprieve, laundry, medical treatment/first aid, Bible teaching

shower room

Where: there are multiple talibe centers in Dakar, one number I heard was 4. maybe more. the one i volunteer at is in a courtyard of a christian church.

When: mon-friday. 9-1. doors close at 1pm, but the volunteers continue to treat everyone who is there, just no new boys allowed in after 1. the volunteers i work with also receive house calls

How: this is the cool part. the marabout are fine with the christian talibe centers. while these boys are "learning" the koran the marabout are in charge of them. these boys have left their families behind. it is easier and cheaper for the marabout to have the boys go to these different centers to receive medical care and such. the talibe center i help at works with about 10 different marabout and their boys. the missionary ladies say that most of the marabout they work with are pleasent and appreciative and compliant. This is not the case for all. as in all things, some marabout are corrupt and use the talibe boys as a means to make money and are abusive.

A day at the talibe center
doors open at 9am. set up mats and toys/games for the boys. 

begin cooking breakfast. breakfast is the same everyday here. hot grain cereal cooked on a propane tank-like contraption, scooped into a large bowl, milk poured over top. 5 spoons to a bowl and the boys crowd around and eat communally.

dirty dishes

first come first serve: each boy receives a number when they walk in (we write a number on their arm/hand in marker). this is to help keep order with who gets to shower first and receive medical care first.

the boys then come up to jane and "mama" for first aid and pressing ailments.


"mama" at the medical table




jane (started this talibe center)



man oh man do we see a variety of things. mostly wounds, from either a disease or abscess or physical infliction. and lately malaria. last monday we had done 5 malaria tests; 3 positive. today Jane had performed 9 malaria test by the time i left at noon. 3 positive.



wound care



malaria testing

                                              

okay that was my attempt at explaining the talibe center. i will hopefully have more stories from there as i continue to volunteer. (every monday 9:30ish to noonish)

i just wanted to put out there a general blog of what a talibe center even is.

truely, it is beautiful organized chaos.
small glimpse: two women behind a medical table treating wounds and malaria while 30+ boys hang out washing clothes, talking on their cell phones, or working on their rap careers with the Psalms sung in wolof playing over the boombox.
not a bad monday, faith

TIA

Alright, so there’s a staff retreat every year at Dakar Academy in the fall.  They would have allowed us to take the girls if we wanted, but then we caught wind of another couple with a kiddo that wasn’t taking theirs.  Ideas sprung into mind.  “What?  We could have a weekend without the kids and relive our days of freedom and no responsibilities?  Sign us up!” Plans came into our minds like mosquitos in a muggy bathroom…I bet we could get a couple of the senior girls to watch Charlie and Maeve for the weekend?  “Yeah, that’s good.”

Needless to say, mom and dad were excited with the thought.  We moved forward.  Mission was accomplished.   2 nights away from the kiddos living it up with other DA staffers around the beach and pool and playing childish games was in our near future.  We anticipated much fun.

Friday night rolls around.  I (Kyle) feel like crap.  Wake up 12 different times throughout the night taking care of necessary functions.   Weekend of rest and relaxation and getting to know people on a deeper level turns into laying on your back for 2 days waiting for things to subside.   Faith puts on the nurse hat again.  I go home worse than when I left.  Faith’s in the same boat.  Africa strikes again!

kyle 

Full disclaimer: The girls did great while we were gone.  We came back to both of them as they were waking up from naps.  Charlie came in jumping on the bed as I was trying to let my stomach settle…to no avail.  But how can you get upset with your daughter jumping on the bed in excitement?

 I feel MUCH better today. Its amazing how things can turn for the better…and worse so quickly here.

Urban Myth Dakar style

I have the Apollo real bad.

The Apollo? You ask.

Hush please; quiet your voice…its bad, real bad.

 It’s red.

 It’s irritating.

 It blurs your vision.

It’s highly contagious.

 It’s… conjunctivitis (you might call it…pink eye).

 It was mid-July 1969. All was right with America. Children played in the streets. Neighbors conversed gaily with one another.  Doors were left unlocked. Cats and dogs were friends.  America was the place to be.  Gas was cheap.  Politicians were honest.  NASA was sending Apollo 11 to the moon.  

Senegal.  Same time.  Different story.  Mass chaos had broken out all over the streets of Dakar practically overnight.  Cab drivers with blurred vision were rear-ending each other. Chefs were misreading their recipes. People were tying up their horses in front of the wrong shanties. Neighbors were killing each other’s chickens for dinner.  What was wrong?  They had IT.  Yes, IT I say….the red, the irritating, the blurred vision.  IT was here. Everyone’s eyes were infected.  No work could be done!  What else could it be, but the Apollo?

 At the exact time that Dakar had an outbreak of what Americans call pink eye, Apollo 11 was landing on the moon. Coincidence?  Think again. What else could explain it?  Senegalese with puffy itchy eyes.  Americans sending space shuttles to the moon.  The connection is obvious.  Apollo caused the outbreak and is now appropriately named.

One small moon landing for America, one big eye infection for Senegal.

Disclaimer:  the aforementioned farce may have been exaggerated for our mutual satisfaction.  However, the underlying truth remains, Senegalese point to Apollo 11 as the root cause of pink eye. Are your eyes itching yet?

14 ways you know you're a Kinsinger living in Dakar, Senegal

- you crave a cold shower at least 3 times a day

- you have breakfast for dinner more than real dinner items because you are confounded as to what to actually eat.

- you get a day off of school to celebrate the end of Ramadan, since 94% of the population is Muslim, rather than a day off of school for Labor Day, since unemployment is about 50% here.  (interestingly enough, I guess this shows that Africa has some democratic tendencies)

- you get your butt kicked in soccer 11-0 your first game (yep...11-0!)

- the temp in your living quarters is almost constantly a thick 86.5 degrees

- you have power for 8 hours straight and you think in your head, "Wow, we've had power for quite awhile now" ...but you dare not say anything for fear that it might jinx it or something

- maeve is constantly sweating and loves bath time

- a fan pointed on you is a necessity for falling asleep

- every person you see on the street you semi-recognize you feel the need to greet, as greetings are of utmost importance here...and if you do it right (which we don't because we don't know Wolof or French that well), - you will go through the series of questions beginning with how you are, followed by how your wife is, followed by how your family is doing.

- your kids feel like celebrities when you take them in a stroller ride, as everybody smiles at them and the little kids want to come up and just touch their hand. 

- it takes your wife 3 hours to make a normal meal that would otherwise take 45 minutes...and you think to yourself, "is this really worth it?"  ...and eating out 7 nights a week sounds like a very wise use of time and money.

- you sweat profusely while putting on kids clothes with those stupid little buttons and you all of a sudden don't care how cute they look, you would prefer a metal snap-on one just so you wouldn't have to sweat so much while doing simple tasks.

- you go to the store and anything Western, such as peanut butter or American cereals costs 3 times as much as what you would pay in the States...even though peanuts is one commodity they produce here. (this doesn't make sense to me)

-...and #1...you are all of a sudden the minority...and many of the ways things are commonly done here are foreign to you...and there's a certain sense of exploration and fun about that on good days and a certain sense of despair and frustration on all the other days.

well...here's to living for a day of adventure over despair! I hope you can do the same!

kyle