*title in English this time for dramatic effect
THE GOOD
Kittens! We found a pile of them outside the Baobab Center, where we attend classes. Smallest kittens i’ve ever held, no bigger than hamsters.
Thought i wuz its mama or somepin
Babies in some trash 
Only bitty with its eyes open
The Bad
At approximately ten o’clock on Saturday morning, i stumble into my host family’s home, head pounding slightly, wearing the same dress i’d gone out in the night before, clutching my shoes in my hand. What had happened? Well, not what you might have guessed. I’d passed the night at my friend/next-door neighbor Fiona’s house, due to the unfortunate fact that the night before, when walking home from a night on the town, my little pouch/pseudo-wristlet had been snatched right out of my hand. By the time i realized what had happened, the thief was long gone, and all i was able to do was say weakly to my companions, “That guy just stole my wallet.” Luckily, nothing irreplaceable was taken (5000CFA, or roughly $10, my cheap Senegalese cell phone, and my house and room keys, which i was most worried about). I dreaded telling my family what had happened, for fear of getting chastised or having to hire a locksmith to get into my bedroom, but luckily only 50% of those things came to pass; my papa dug up another key to my room and my mama, after chastising me (“il faut que tu fais l’attention!”), told me to eat breakfast, take a shower, get some more sleep, and relax. All and all, a nuisance, but nothing too serious. The following item, however…
The Ugly
The Ugly actually preceded The Bad, so you can tell i got out of it okay by the fact that i related the tale of The Bad already (and, i suppose, the fact that i’m sitting here writing this blog post, period). So, a group of us were waiting outside of a Casino, the most western grocery store Dakar has to offer, waiting for a few more people to show up so we could carry on to our destination. A creepy man approached the group, acting very friendly, gave our group a bag of bananas, asked us (twice) if we were tourists to which we responded (twice) that no, we were students. I avoided the guy as he was setting off little alarm bells in my brain, and moved away from him, to the farthest edge of our group whenever possible. Finally, it was time for us to move on, and he went on his way too. We were walking down the street he was crossing; as i made my way down, walking in the middle of the street to avoid a puddle, he crossed right in front of me. Personal space isn’t much of a thing here, so i tried not to freak out, but i knew my instincts were right when i felt him grab my crotch in passing.
I didn’t scream. That’s what i’m really disappointed about. I didn’t scream or punch him. I was so shocked that all i could manage to do was grab his grimy hand off my crotch and throw it away from my body. But he was already moving on by then, and it didn’t make much difference.
Yes, i’m writing about this in the completely public forum of a blog. In the spectrum of sexual abuse/molestation, this was (blessedly) quite minor, but even so, it made me incredibly uncomfortable, upset with myself and with the man and with the fact that these sorts of things even happen. It’s so gross and upsetting that i’d like to just shut it up forever. But by writing about it here, and making that truth known, i’m sending the message to myself that i shouldn’t be ashamed of this happening, that i did nothing wrong, that he was the only wrong one. And sure, i wrote a lot more emotionally about this in my journal, and present it here in a rather detached manner, but i am saying (writing) it aloud nonetheless. It happened.
But i’m okay. I told my friends about it, accepted their comfort, walked in the middle of the group, took a shower once i was able, wrote about it in my journal, and am now writing about it here. Hopefully, nothing of that sort happens again, inchallah, and if it does, i hope i’ll be able to find my voice to yell and let whoever does it know that it is 100% not okay.
There’s that. And okay, to end on a happy note, here’s some more good: the view of the sunset from my rooftop.
Little moon
Mini skyline
Six Mois à Dakar 