It's Hot!

It's nearing the end of my first full day at the school and the main thing I've learn't so far is that it's HOT! At least it's hot by British summer-time standards, but here it's the rainy season (although dry today) and things will get hotter early next year. The worst thing is the humidity rather than the heat; I seem to be permanently wet with sweat and if you wash it off it comes back within 5 minutes. Unfortunately I made the embarassing mistake of having a cup of tea at our first meeting this morning and, as someone who sweats easily usually, the hot tea wasn't a wise move. I could feel sweat dripping off my legs onto my toes and my arms were covered in rather large droplets. I had to change my t-shirt before our first introductory session (much to the dissapointment of Jens, one of the long term staff, who was rather keen on the VW camper on the front of it).

We had a good session together talking about some of the basics of school life and spending some time singing to God. This afternoon we had a guided tour of most of the school, learning more about some of the daily routine as we did.

Arriving in Dakar yesterday was fun. As I had predicted, my French fell over at the first hurdle. Having felt rather pleased with myself, ordering my lunch on the plane in French (the hostess assumed I was a French speaker), I then was confronted with Africans who insisted on talking to me about the fact I had a guitar with me and wanting to help me with getting through the airport. Whilst I understood the jist of what they were saying, my mind went blank about how to respond. I was met at the airport by Adam, another short-term worker who stayed on from last year, with whom I am sharing a chalet. I then found out that I should have in fact been travelling with Ruth as suspected but her travel agent had told her the flight was from Heathrow when in fact it was the one I was on from Gatwick. She's now arriving on Friday which is a shame as she'll miss out on quite a bit.

The most memorable part of yesterday would have to be the drive back to the school from Dakar. Adam and I stayed in Dakar until 8:30 to pick up Tracey who was travelling with Air France. Upon leaving the airport at 8:45 we were expecting a 1 and a half hour ride back to Kiniabour, where the school is. We actually arrived here just after 2am. The road out of Dakar was absolutely rammed with traffic. Traffic which doesn't pay heed to traffic lights and expands into arbitrary numbers of lanes to fill all available road space, darting between those lanes according to which seems to be moving regardless of whether there's actually any space to move into or not. Senegalese driving is very different to the UK. They use the horn less to display anger and more as a reminder to other traffic that they are there and would like to move/would not like to be crushed/shunted. They also wave their hands out of the window pleading to be let in or allowing each other in with special signals. The ride home was tough. Some times we'd move 200m in half an hour and for 4 hours we hadn't a clue why. Finally we asked a guy wandering between the traffic what was wrong and he said there was wate ron the road. I should have mentioned that it was raining when I arrived in Dakar. In a country like Senegal where it doesn't usually rain much the infrastructure is not ready for it and the ground does not seem to absorb it so just a short period of rain can produce standing water quite deep. This was what had happened further up the road and combining that with the inevitable prangs and breakdowns created by the combination of a traffic jam, the senegalese driving style and the seeming lack of enforcement regarding MOTs etc, this made for a rather long and frustrating journey, not least for Adam who'd got back from the airport at 2am the previous night as well. When we got to the water it was not as bad as we'd expected. Being Bitish we decided to show the locals a thing or two about how to cope with rain and drove past the queue and straight through the main patch of water. From there onwards there was more water around causing problems for the next mile or so but after that things got back to normal and we were flying.

That's all I've got time for now (it's more than enough to read anyway) as we're playing volleyball in the sports hall in 2 minutes (I'm preparing to wring my clothes out afterwards!).

Brussels Airport

I'm sat in Brussels airport having succuesfully completed the first leg of my journey out to Bourofaye Christian School, Senegal. It's been a long day so far. I set my alarm for 2:40am, allowing enough time for a shower, some bible study and a quick breakfast. The first problem was that I didn't actually get to sleep, even after going to bed at 9, the second problem was that I couldn't get any hot water in my shower and hence emerged from it shivering. My parents and I stayed last night at the mission's headquarters in Gerrard's Cross, Buckinghamshire. Having done so meant that Gatwick was just an hour away so we arrived in plenty of time for check-in, having set off at ten to 4. Having got rid of my luggage we sat down for a farewell cuppa and prayed together before my parents left me to get on with the fun of August 2006 UK airport security. As I joined the queue I was confronted by a sign informing me that I could buy 'anything' in the departure lounge, I couldn't help imagining a shop selling wild Elephants. Whilst still pondering this I was asked to put my pockets into a plastic bag, another interesting thought. Now /i'm watching the last few people drift through the departure gate and wondering if I should think about moving too; the plane doesn't leave for twenty minutes! I was half expecting to bump into Ruth here who is supposedly arriving at the same time via the same airline but there's been no sign of her so far. Maybe I should get up now, I'm the only person left sat here. If I miss the plane it's my dad's fault, he told me not to rush in departure lounges...