I know I've taken a slight hiatus from this blog. I've only posted a few times since coming to Senegal and by now no one is reading this but the most devoted and peace corps staff. At the suggestion of my amazing friend, D, I'm going to put this thing in use again as an attempt to not drop off the face of the earth, which, I thought was the definition of living in Africa. D- you are full of gems of wisdom and I wouldn't have gotten this far in my service without your insightful suggestions. Drowning Wolof children in my douche. Laughing at my cousin who didn't have one dollar so he could go to the dentist. Kidding. Of course.

A lot has changed in the last 10-months. Most of which occurred in my head. Nearly a year in-country and I now feel like this is my home. I listen to mbalax songs on my ipod. I can sit sedentary for hours at a stretch. My English has noticeably suffered. I can't enter a room without talking about how hot it is outside, greeting each person, or praising God.

A few nights ago as a train went by at 3am, I jumped out of my mosquito net and sat perched against the wall of my room. In my sleep-walking state, I thought the train would enter my room and surely run over my bed, so as a safely precaution, I got out of bed and waited. Slowly I woke up, realized what I was doing, and went back to bed. Residual effects of paranoia-causing malaria medication? I wish I could say this was the weirdest thing I had done in my sleep.

I'll leave you with a conversation I had with a random man who showed up at my garden yesterday. He is apparently my new fiancé. Translated from Franco-Wolof:

Fiancé: Hello, how are you.
Me: I'm well. Have you passed the day in peace. How is your family.
Fiancé: Well. Peace only. Praise God.
Me: Praise God.
(Repeated a handful of times)
Fiancé: Where is Diallo?
Me: He went out.
Fiancé: Where are you from?
Me: America. I live here now. I am a volunteer.
Fiancé: Do you have a husband. What is your name.
Me: Yes. He's at home. Sofie (my African name).
Fiancé: Do you swear on your mother and fathers heads and in the name of God you have a husband.
Me: Well, I cannot do that because I am not Muslim. God would not like that. But, yes, I have a husband.
Fiancé: You do not. I would like to be your husband. My name is Juules. I hope in the future I can pass by and we will create a home. A home for Sofie and Juules with many children and a big house. I will pray to Allah for you to take me.
Me: Well, my father requires a dowry if you want to marry me. A cow.
Fiancé: (....hesitation....) I don't have a cow. I have many goats and chickens. But I will search.
Me: It's Chinese tradition.
Fiancé: I will pass by in the future and we will make our home.
Me: Don't forget the cow.
Fiancé: Not a problem.
Me: Praise God.
Fiancé: Praise God.

(Update: he came back today at the same time to let me know he is searching for the cow.)