Le rire, c’est le soleil, il chasse l’hiver du visage humain. -Victor Hugo
A visualization of what it feels to live in Dakar. I’m ready.
Greetings from Gate C21 at Logan airport. I’m jumping off the New England springboard and heading back into the often surprising, always entertaining funhouse of wonder known as West Africa. I try not to bitch too much (publicly) about all of the challenges associated with living in Senegal, but I will tell you that this two week respite has done more for my morale than I could have ever imagined.
What follows is a quick snapshot diary- probably created more for myself than for you- and it pays tribute to some of the faces and places that I got to see over the past week. There’s something to be said for reunions that prohibit pretense; for better or for worse you are going to be yourself around the people who saw you grow in to and out of bad hair. In my particular case, I spent this stretch of days laughing so hard that my stomach hurt- and I haven’t done that in a long time. And so it is with this in mind that I enter these photos as evidence of my gratitude for being able to come home for Christmas.
So Megan, what did you get for Christmas? I mean, apart from the pleasure of witnessing family open inappropriate yuletide gifts that innocently took up space under a traditional evergreen…
Stuff I got #1: After a two year separation, I was finally reunited my twin sister. On Christmas night, I hopped into a car, mused for about sixty seconds whether my African standard made me fit to drive on American roads, and then drove to Rhode Island to surprise her. It was awesome.
And speaking of reunions, I got to see my long-lost little brother. You know what I like about these kinds of social calls? You don’t impress upon yourself the requirement to be anything other than what you were when you last saw one another. In this case, this means generally acting foolish. I fear that in Dakar, I spend far too much time waving my Olmsted banner or figuring out how to get downtown with the correct amount of change and a taxi that is not too death trap-ish. I’m still learning how to fuse these two sides of myself into symbiotic harmony.
Stuff I got #3: People presents! I finally got met new family members, which was a real highlight of my trip.
Stuff I got #4: Further corrupting the brains of the miniature people in my family. Courtesy of her crazy Aunti Megan, the girl on the left learned the word “loquacious” when she was first building her vocabulary. I continued my campaign at aunt of the year by bringing my nieces into more unauthorized yet undeniably interesting territories…
In the interest of exploration, we had to find out what this No Trespassing business was all about. I kind of got a little nervous watching these somewhat wobbly wonders climb about- and I was afraid that they’d go sliding into the pit and I’d have the incriminating evidence all caught on tape. Furthermore, I don’t want to make one of those D-rate TV shows that always seems to be blaring in my Dad’s living room: “Tonight! On ‘When Stupid People Video Themselves Doing Stupid Things‘…”
I don’t think my sisters would kill me for bringing their girls out here. After all, we used this kind of stuff all the time. And all these years later, I only have one concussion to show for it. Hmm….
It’s winter, so of course I triple-dog-dared her to do it. Aunt of the Year. That’s me.
Family time is best spent experienced in bite-size pieces. While the high holidays represent golden opportunities for collective get-togethers, I don’t define these hours of chaos as quality time. Quality time for me comes when you participate in random errands and moments of unscheduled entertainment with various extensions of your family. Like making my brother-in-law drive to Friendly’s cuz I want a take-out ice cream sundae (hello, Reese’s PB Cup!). While waiting at the ice cream window I see on Facebook that he is comically bitching on his Facebook Wall about having to sit in said parking lot- so I of course answer his rants and tell him that he needs to get his ass inside and to stop being a *****. That’s quality time.
Stuff I got #Whatever: Running around town with Dad. We randomly pulled over and decided to pay tribute to arboreal structures that plus up a person’s life and let them live at least 15 years longer. Now that‘s a gift.
Besides, we need Dad around to play shipyard harbormaster, and to also indoctrinate the new generation of kids into carrying out Shipyard duties. Here we are learning how to strike eight bells on time.
I got to make multiple trips up and down the lighthouse to catch sunset when we didn’t make the 3transit out to the beach.
Behold more pirates in training. These girls are Hallinans after all.
On watch over the compound. It’s pretty damn cool up here, and I know of no other family in these parts that has a lighthouse in the backyard.
Stop and Shop with Dad. One thing that has struck me about being home is the the avalanche of processed foods that are consumed or passed off as “gourmet”. This Rolo dessert kind of took the cake for me- I am sure that this is absolutely ridiculous, but I am also sure that its ingredients contain nothing that originates from this planet.
I was also reassured that Cape Cod ingenuity is alive and well. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing, but I found it comforting.
I love hanging out up in Boston with my sister and brother-in-law. Lucky for my sailor’s leanings that he always has a great supply of wine and beer. This local bottle was absolutely fantastic, and paired well with the wealth of New England sports playing on TV.
Stuff I did not get but someone else did: Whitman’s chocolates. I like to call these CVS top sellers “chocolate for your enemies”. To me they seem to convey a certain sentiment , and speaking from recent experience, they should only to be consumed when you are drinking.
Other great Boston stuff I got: In addition to a Patriots game, I went to see the Celtics play with my sister! I don’t care what all of you people say about the NBA, I really enjoy watching basketball and love going to the Garden to see the C’s in action. It also helps when you have a really basketball-savvy sister sitting next to you who can explain to you what some of the calls mean to a hockey-focused Boston fan.
The Truth! Pierce was awesome tonight.
And of course, a look overhead gives me a most splendid view of the newest banner int he Garden. This still makes me unbelievably happy and proud of my Bruins.
My last night in Boston. I capped off my marathon vacation with a massage and hair appointment. These are important things in my life. It was also nice to see Downtown Crossing still done up for the holidays.
Filene’s and Filene’s Basement have long-since been gutted, but I liked that there was still a trace of the old store. It was freezing outside, so I hurried to the T stop to get back to my sister’s house.
I got off at Science Park and was immediately exposed to the biting wind coming of the Charles. As I exited the T Station, someone held the door open for me. Reflexively, I responded to the gesture with a “merci” as I took the door, but then immediately attempted to delete the response with a “thank you”. I laughed to myself, and took the ingrained response as a positive sign that it was time for me to return to Senegal.
It was a great trip home, and although I saw a great many other people whose time I appreciated immensely, as usual my departure is bittersweet.
I’ve gotta wrap up this entry. Since starting to add captions to my photos, I’ve been upgraded to first class- and this means that I am being treated way nicer than I would be back in the student seats (“Water for the lady” is what I am told when my pre-flight drink selection arrives). I’ve got a Russian seat companion who is speaking loudly on his bluetooth, and across the way there’s a dude dressed in a hunting ball cap, long-sleeve white thermal shirt with an outside layer of ripped black t-shirt just ordered up a Jack and Coke. So this is how the beautiful people live.
