Dakar, Senegal

Dakar is beautiful and lively. It feels like there is water everywhere, since the city sprawls out on a peninsula (almost) and about ¾ of the area is surrounded by the Atlantic Ocean. The houses are square, colorful, and people tend to dress more traditionally, but the roads are largely unpaved except for the main stretch of highway which was built for a large celebratory Muslim conference last year. However, many buildings appear half-finished in the construction process and it appears that money ran out to finish the projects or materials weren’t available since they lack windows, doors, and a coat of paint.

I have an internship with an NGO (non-governmental organization), and am preparing for field work in Mali with a nutrition survey team (of about 20 people). We’ll interview health care providers and caregivers in villages about screening children for malnutrition. I’ll be helping with an evaluation to see if health and nutrition services are actually reaching these rural populations.

My first day involved broken French, some English, and charades. I haven’t really spoken French since I lived in Paris in college and although it requires an extraordinary amount of effort to communicate throughout a full day, I’m actually surprised by the vocabulary and phrases that have been unearthed from somewhere in my memory. It felt like a little respite to eat dinner that night with a dozen-plus expat women living in Dakar and working in the foreign aid arena, where I could be lazy and speak English.