It's Raining Men

There's nothing like ending your day with a few drinks and chicken dibi. Ah chicken dibi. I really believe that it would be great in the US and is definitely the best meal I've had in Senegal. Before Chris coerced me into going to chicken dibi we were at the Catholic bar across from the cathedral. God love the Catholics. I arrived late (aka after I actually completed my work for the day) so I missed Oliver who was passing through, but I got to meet up with Chris, Emily, and Kether.

The Catholic bar is a lot of fun, but also means that there are a lot of drunk and annoying Senegalese men. I only midway through my first Flag (a half step above the infamous Gazelle) when I man yells at us from across the courtyard asking Chris if he will give up one of his women since Chris has three and this man and his group of friends are all men. Unfortunately, everyone except me thinks that we should talk to these drunk men about proper etiquette/ how to actually talk to an American woman.

Dealing with rude, drunk people is one aspect of my life here that is really different than in the States. Back at home I was definitely the person who would get angry, tell the drunk idiot how it is, and not let the situation go un-addressed. Here, I just want to ignore the drunk fool and enjoy my Flag. I don't want to say that it's resignation to the fact that because I'm a woman I will get constantly harassed for the next two years, but that's probably it. I have absolutely zero patience for dealing with men who want me to their second wife, who think that I'm practically a prostitute for being here single, who think that I'm stupid because I'm a woman so they can talk down to me, and who think that I should be just so incredibly happy that they are willing to talk to me that I should fall all over myself in an attempt to please them. I just dread dealing with men.

Going out for the afternoon was a really fun time and chicken dibi is always the best way to end a night. I love talking with other PCVs because there is such an intimate understanding. They know exactly what I'm going through and have the same amazing and miserable experiences. The funny part about my relationships with other volunteers is that they are all about Senegal. I know my friends circa August 13th 2009, the day we landed in this country. I know very little about their lives in the States unless they have a significant other and that really doesn't detract from our relationships.

Apart from the man hating, beer drinking, chicken eating part of my day, I went to Keur Yaay and taught the English class since the real teacher didn't show up and in the afternoon went back to my typing ladies. Mme Cissa was very pleased that I found another typing game completely in French and it was obvious she had been practicing since I last saw here which was great.

Now I need to get dressed for bed. And I mean I need to get dressed for bed. It now gets down into the low 70s/ high 60s at night, which means I freeze to death and need to wear the one pair of long running pants I brought and a cardigan. Yes, I'm an idiot and thought that since I'm from Michigan it would be impossible for me to get cold in Senegal. This is false since now 70 is cold. The past couple of nights I've been in sweatpants, a cardigan and under the very light blanket I brought shivering away. I can never move home to Michigan... or at least not without Arctic Parka 9 months out of the year!