Tales of a Thirty-Something

So the other night, some of the kids in my village asked me to teach them Spanish.  Well, seeing as my Espagnol repertoire is quite limited, as I haven't studied the language since 8th grade, I had to be quick on my feet, so as to look "cool."  As a result, there are now about 20 men, women, and children who yell "chimichanga" and "quesadilla" on the reg in the African bush . A dusk-ish view of village...as a matter of fact, just prior to the Spanish invasion.

Senegalese people are obsessed with wanting to go to America.   They think we’re all super rich, and that by coming here, they can be super rich too.   Recently one of my friends was talking with his family about slavery in America.   His description was somewhat as follows: “yeah, boats would come to Africa, and fill up with Africans that were to go to America to work.”   Well his family was so keen on the idea that they asked him if boats like this still existed, and if so, how they could get on one. So I recently just got back from an ALMOST completely successful bike trip.   Every year, Peace Corps Senegal has a huge 4 th of July party for all the volunteers in the country.   It’s in Kedegou, which is the neighboring regional capital from my regional house.   Overall, it’s about 250K away, and it’s pretty much a straight shot.   Inspired by all the biking we had been doing lately,   a few of us decided we wanted to bike it.   We would leave 1 July and (hopefully) arrive by the 3