So I promised I'd finish writing about the rest of our Bambey trip, and so much has happened since then that this may prove to be another ridiculously long post. Here goes.
Saturday night after coming back from the village and having a very superficial meeting about how we felt about the experience, we went out in a big group thinking that we were going to a nightclub. We were exhausted and there was a mixup with the keys so it took us until about 1 am to get out...and then we didn't go dancing, we went to a concert. Given by this really famous Senegalese pop star chick who is on TV all the time. Who knew? Another example of how nobody ever knows what's going on. Anyway, it was another one of those uncomfortable Toubab experiences where the rest of the populace shot us dirty looks for hours - for some reason we were able to get in ahead of this huge line of people who were waiting, and several fistfights broke out as we were shoved into the building, so the bouncers had to hold people back and slam the doors. It wasn't even a huge concert really, it was just that there were tons of people who wanted to get in. We watched Ami lipsync a few songs and talked to the people around us in French and bits of Wolof and got asked for money from a lot of kids, at which point for some unknown reason we all got ushered by our coordinators up towards the stage and through the back doors. We waited in a giant hall while Ami finished, then she came out and took pictures with the Toubabs while tons of people who hadnt gotten in banged on the barred windows and glared at us or called us with the pssssssssssttt noise that is SO dear to my heart. It was so strange and uncomfortable with everyone watching that afterwards, I just went back to the house where we were staying with a few other people. This turned out to be a great plan, even though we were locked out of the rooms where our bags were - we just crawled under the mosquito nets in the courtyard and looked at the stars and drifted off until the rest of the group came back.
In the morning we were woken up my Mariane and it was such a great feeling to wake up outside in the sun. We had breakfast - bread, butter, and coffee with Vitalait. Oh yeah, Vitalait is this weird sugary powdered milk that everyone uses, and they have these weirdass commercials for it on TV all the time with people singing, and everyone in my family always sings along. We all helped to wash the mugs and clean up the courtyard and put away the mosquito nets and stack the mattresses. We all filed into the courtyard of the other house to thank the family again, but I think this made them very uncomfortable. At a certain point it seems insincere to people if you thank them over and over again. We got on the bus to go back to Dakar, and on the way stopped at an agricultural school. We were shown into an odd grove of trees that had been drafted to make fruits that apparently tasted like a combination of lime and grapefruit. This is one of the things the students do, or so I gathered, to create new products for the produce markets. This makes up one part of the school - there are separate tracks in agricultural development, farming, et cetera, and it's very selective, I believe.
Well that's about the end of the story. We stopped on the side of the road on the way back where I bought about 25 clementines for the family - the clementines grown here (not imported) are teeeeny tiny and delicious.

Now it's time to move on to last weekend, beginning with Friday. There had been no power at WARC for most of Wednesday and Thursday so Tina and I were not able to type up descriptions of our Goree field trip for history class...I went in early Friday morning and got lucky in that the power went out again just after I'd printed my paper. Tina wasn't so lucky.
After class I went with 4 girls to the Marche HLM again. We took the car rapide sans probleme and then split into two groups upon arrival - 5 white girls together draw too much attention, and even 3 gets to be a bit much. I was on a mission to buy fabric. We walked through the market and looked at a ton of different little booths and spoke broken Wolof with anyone who would humor us. We started heading back to meet the others for lunch and I decided to just go for it and buy a fabric I really liked - I did some great bargaining and got 6 yards for 3500 (7 bucks!) which is, according to Maman Amitie, an excellent price. When I got home (after a lunch of shawarma and the ride back) she assured me that she'd take me to the tailor the very next night.
The family was very animated on Friday night and I had a good time even without Hannah around to laugh at Jean-Paul's and Samu's antics and supplement my vocabulary, PLUS there was electricity for the first night in like three days so everyone was in a great mood. Unfortunately, things took a turn for the worse - I discovered that I was missing money from my wallet. Not a huge amount, but a very large bill for here. When JB told Maman Amitie I expected to be blamed, as some of the other Americans who have had things stolen from them get a very cold and insulted response. Instead Maman flipped out at the kids and all but chased them around the house with a broom yelling about morals. I tried to explain that my intent wasnt to blame anyone, but she assured me that it was always best to lock everything up and even lock the room while we're sitting in the family room. This has proved to be awkward since the locking of the door is done in someone else's bedroom in plain sight of everyone else, but it's the best idea. I'm disappointed that I have to let go of my trust, but I'd rather my belongings be safe and not have to go through all that again.
On top of this, I went for a two hour walk with my host brother later that evening to get away from a roomful of seething preteens ignoring me, and it turns out he was waiting for a chance when my roommate wasn't around to say upon our arrival back home "J'ai quelque chose a te dire...Je trouve qu'il est tres difficile de rester indifferent quand je suis avec une si jolie fille...tu me comprends?" If you dont want to look it up and didn't figure out where that might have been going, it means that things are going to be a little awkward between us for a while. I told him I didn't know quite what to say other than "tu es mon frere" and "tu sais que j'ai un petit copain" and he said "ce n'est pas grave...je voulais juste te dire." which means "it's no big deal, I just wanted you to know." He was really very eloquent and cool about it. Still, AWKWARD. I mean, I live with the kid.
I fell asleep in a bit of a muddle and then Saturday morning I took the car rapide up to Ouakam for dance class. Not many people had made it out that morning after some kind of crazy party at the marine house in Dakar, and I was one of the few who remembered all the steps. Thus the teacher and drummers paid me a lot of attention and put me in the front and it was a little uncomfortable, but a really good time - we get so much done when there are only ten or so of us. The class lasted for a good four hours as usual, and when I got home I had to sort of nervously ask Awa the bonne (the maid, little Farou's mom) if there was any food left from lunch. She is Serrer, probably not much older than me, and doesn't speak much French, and I dont like to interrupt her in what she's doing. The rest of the afternoon was uneventful. Jean Paul and Reine and Samu's parents were over. I read a lot and watched some terrible MTV shows from like 1997 and then Maman Amitie came home and announced that she and I were going out with the parents. She told me we'd go to the tailor on the way to go see her daughter and son in law, and if he wasnt there we could leave the fabric there and come back another time. I naively thought this was going to be a visit of an hour or so at most, but nooooo, I should have known that there are no short visits in Senegal. We went up into the apartment of Fifi (not little Fifi) and her husband. It was a lot of the parents (Maman has 7 living children, 5 daughters and 2 sons, and 4 of them were there) and the older (maybe age 20 and up) grandchildren. There was an excellent buffet and about a three-hour home video of this year's christmas party that Gilo had filmed and edited with a friend. Pretty boring, but there was so much other conversation going on that I had a great time. I also danced a lot with Marlene (one of the older cousins in her mid-twenties.) The family was surprised and absolutely delighted that the Toubaab knew how to dance, and so of course all the uncles had to take a turn leading me, and even Maman Amitie got up and danced a song with me. It was a great time. We never even ended up going over to the tailor's, and we didn't get home till around 2 am.
I believe that the real purpose of this family gathering was to discuss the relationship of Marlene and her fiance (?) David, who lives in Guinea. I of course don't know the back story but from what I picked up, a lot of the uncles disapprove of him for some reason that has to do with him standing up to his father and also something that concerns the discussion of the dowry. I couldn't believe I was sitting in on what seemed like a very private discussion, but one of the uncles opened it up and then everyone there had their say, in varying degrees of anger and noise levels. It was mostly the uncles bringing things up and Marlene defending herself very eloquently. There was much talk of Dieu and Jesu - everyone present were very religious Catholics and this seems to play a huge role in everyone's speeches and decisions and actions. It was absolutely unlike any discussion I've ever heard in the US, and involved comments like "the man is the head of the family," and "as the first cousin of my generation to get married the wedding has to set a precedent" and "this is your life but it also involves your family and his," and it was all proposed in a very formal sort of family meeting whose sole purpose was to discuss just this. Incredible. For the few of you who can follow me in this, try to picture Captain Barry at the forefront of the gang of Mestel family uncles opening the conversation to comments about how much Ari is worth in dowry, with all of the aunts saying things like "let her speak!" and Nana interjecting "Amen, amen, mmmhhmmm," about once every sixteen seconds. It was at once a shocking attack on a young individual and a beautiful display of family unity and love. Afterwards everyone bowed their heads while one of the aunts made a very long grace. The atmosphere immediately became a lot lighter and relaxed as we helped ourselves to the food.

Anyways, I got home and passed out and woke up around noon on Sunday, and did not leave the house ALL day. It was amazing. Almost like what Shabbat's supposed to be. Hannah was home by that point, raving about Saint Louis which sounds like paradise...less pollution, no garbage in the streets, hot water and flush toilets at the hotel, breakfasts of eggs and croissants, nobody asking for your hand in marriage in the street...I think she's a little down about being back in Dakar. Later the kids came running in to say that there was a parade going on for one of the presidential candidates. This is of course exactly the thing we as Americans in Dakar are supposed to avoid, but we put our cell phones away, got our IDs, and ran towards the noise. Although Samu tried to drag us out to the crowd, we stood rather far away on a street corner and very vaguely saw a car and lots of people off in the distance, then headed home.

Monday was uneventful other than finding the street of restaurants near the University - we got lunch of beef and rice and vegetables for about 600 francs each. SO good. We ate with a couple of Senegalese guys who were friends or cousins of someone in our group. They told us all about how the voting works here. The elections are quickly approaching - this Sunday is the day, and then I'm not sure when the runoff elections take place. 15 candidates is INSANE.

Okay, I haven't been very good about this, but here are a few fun facts for the week:

1) Boubabar is the name of probably every other person I have met here - and a very common nickname is, get this, Boubs. It's really hard not to laugh at that one.
2) People are legit insulted when you dont remember their names. Bad news for me, but I'm getting better.
3) I found out the hard way that you MUST stand to greet someone who is older than you when they enter the room. I was the first chair by the door on Saturday night and so I wasn't able to observe the rest of the family - I stayed seated while greeting one set of aunts and uncles. Everyone else got up right after they passed me and and I believe they were very insulted. Sunday they came over to the house, though, and I got to correct myself. So hopefully it will be okay. Gosh darn this whole new culture deal.
4) Annoyance of the week: no running water most of Sunday. I cleaned my feet and other parts that count and went to sleep a little dirty. At least there was electricity!

I'd also like to add that if you have not pooped in a squat toilet, you have not lived.