Life goes on here, and it’s almost as if you’d never believe that a week ago tensions were  high on the eve of elections. At least that’s the read I get in the air en ce moment. I’m not saying that things aren’t otherwise….especially as we move closer to March 18th.

So enough of politics. This weekend has so far been filled with everyday normal activities that really make up the best part of life.  Here’s a little bit of today:

While you may be bored to hear that I started my morning with another run, I do feel compelled to mention it. See I’ve got an injury that just won’t go away, so I finally give up and will need to lay off before it gets any worse. If this is my last run for awhile, at least I was fortunate enough to join two great ladies for a jaunt up and down the corniche.

If the wind is not busy frosting this city with a layer of dust, then the weather has really been beautiful since the start of the new year. As usual, sunrise and sunset are the best times to be outside, and here on Saturday morning we caught a glimpse of a common sight- people  giving their mouton a bath. They always look so bright and gleaming!

  
Here’s another spectacle that we passed on the corniche- and I’m going to say it: people in general do not drive well in Senegal. This particular mess defies explanation. It happened at a place where it is fairly difficult to gather speed- and the street is also fairly narrow. A friend of mine on Facebook just remarked on how her taxi driver was reading while driving, and she’d be surprised if she lived to see 40 while living in Africa. She’s kidding of course- but only partly.

I always love running past Soumbedioune- and here you get a look at a pirgoue in its infant stages. Between you and me, this finished product is the national mode of transportation in Senegal. Dakarois have had the sea in their veins for far longer than those treacherous routes goudronnées.

During the latter half of our run, we were joined by five little kids after they saw that we were about to overtake them. We stoked their competitive spirit and had them sprint ahead- only to watch them run out of gas as we carried on. We finished off our four miles and then transitioned to another favorite activity of mine. 

Cooking! We’ve got citrus and onions on the kitchen table. Any idea what we’re gonna make? (If you know anything at all about Senegalese cuisine, then this is a dead giveaway.)

 
That’s right people, we’re making yassa poulet– definitely my favorite Senegalese dish.
(My least favorite? Why that would be soupe kandia– but then again most toubabs don’t like that stuff. Senegalese love it.)

Here I am, putting forth my contribution to the repast. I take good direction.

Poulet that has been marinated overnight and stuffed with garlic goes on the outside grill.I love grills- you can put a shoe on a grill and it would taste delicous.

Secret sauce (primarily garlic, bouillon, parsley, cumin, vinegar, thyme and basil) goes into a pot of onions and garlic- which is already happily caramelizing on the stove top.

“It’s all about the color of the sauce.” That’s what we’re being taught as we continue to stir the pot and attempt to evaluate doneness. Is doneness a word?

Some green olives slide in, and as the sauce continues to cook down we notice that the house smells truly amazing. It helps that our morning athletics have created three hungry sportives who are very excited to try this sauce.

The chicken that was on the grill gets thrown into the pot along with some piment (hot peppers). I should say that each household has its own way of making these dishes- so you do see some variations in the process.

And no Senegalese dish would be complete without whipping up some ceeb (rice).

For a beverage, we’ve also got going on the the beginnings of bissap- a drink made from dried hibiscus flowers (and in this case, fresh mint).

Our diligence and patience finally pays off as we make our way to the table to enjoy the fruits of our labor (okay, the maids did most of the prep work, so I have to give them props). At this particular moment, I can’t think of a better way to spend a weekend than here outside with great company.

Visitors often as the question, “Where’s the best place to get Senegalese food?” In my opinion the answer is always the same- at someone’s house. Here, it’s not just about the food; in fact, I would argue that an equally significant part of the dining experience is the atmosphere- the people to be exact. When you are a guest in someone’s house in Senegal, you encounter an outpouring of hospitality and generosity that I haven’t seen elsewhere. Add in the witty dialogue that is the other national sport of this country, and you’ve got yourself the complete dining experience. Some might call this teranga.

Behold the sauce in all its glory! It’s not typically added in, but we threw some roasted red and yellow peppers into the sauce.

As a part of the cultural exchange, I did bring over peanut butter cookies for dessert. The cross-hatching on the top of the cookies, I explained to my Senegalese friend, is the universal indicator that what you are eating is a peanut butter cookie. Since this is a country that produces the world’s best peanuts, these have been going over quite well with the locals. And everyone else.

So that’s kind of it for the afternoon- a rather unassuming day but one that definitely felt like things were back to normal in Dakar. I look forward to many more days like this one.