I'm a detective

Let's try this again. One more time for good measure. So regardless of what I DO manage to post, I must accept that there will always be more to say. Life here is fascinating and strange and wonderful and confusing all in one. I wish I didn't feel so awkward taking photos because I don't feel like my words do my surroundings justice-perhaps that topic will just have to wait for a later post. Currently, my life here is still filled with mysteries regarding just about everything. This culture is filled with contradictions as it tries to find it's place between modern and traditional. A current favorite mystery of mine: who lives in my house and who is just passing through. The question isn't who is my family because the word for family in wolof means to share and the more you share with, the better. It has nothing to do with blood. Thus the "family" of neighbors, friends, and actual relatives are constantly cycling through the house and I'm never entirely sure who stays and who leaves at night. The question of who lives in my house is further complicated by the fact that I live in a mansion. Although the interior is sparse and simple (Muslims aren't big on decoration except for in their dress...) there are three stories and the outside is quite fancy. I haven't been given a full tour and I'm pretty sure I'm not welcome to explore at my will: all is very mysterious. It's not bad, just mysterious.



Enough for now-I'm going back on the job. Love love. (Once again no spell check so sorry about that. You guys can handle it I'm sure.