It’s evening and I’m back at Mme. Gueye’s … It’s during the time of Passover. My ex-boyfriend, not knowing I’m back in Senegal, texts and asks if I’m waiting for Elijah. I’m sitting in a dark room eating peanut butter, and text back that “No, I’m in Africa waiting for electricity.”
I decide to do some pilates … maybe it will help to offset all of the bread and rice I will consume this week.
It’s 6 AM a couple of days later and I’m on Mme. Gueye’s front stoop waiting for my driver, “Fifty Cent.” I will travel the road to Dakar where, for two days, I will catch up with e-mails, bask in air conditioning, swim, meet new friends from Nigeria, dine with Hawa the TV anchor, and most importantly … shower.
Dawn is breaking as I await Fifty. A figure appears down the quiet dirt road swathed in purples and oranges mimicking the sky, bowl perfectly balanced on her head. It’s the first stirring of the day and it feels so spiritual to me … The moment has a mystical, magical quality.