We lived in Dakar from mid December to the last half of March. Memories come flooding back as I think about living there. In the beginning, I was lonely and scared. Having a six month old daughter brought me out of that quickly.
The Dakar natives loved Eva. They learned immediately that I did not understand what they said, and they'd turn to her to talk as if she understood. They'd get her to laugh and smile. Eva was very white with white blond hair and I think that was part of the attraction. It didn't take long for my instincts (from having moved to lots of new places my life) to regain my self assuredness and curiosity and that motherly trait that made me protective and never showing fear in front of my child.
Eva and I lived on a city street above a dentist's office. We had bought her an old fashioned walker and she took to it right away scooting herself easily across the smoothe stone floors at home. Her favorite spot was looking down from the balcony at the back of our apartment. A family lived down there and when any one would spot her watching, would wave and speak and even sing to her. It was good she was occupied, because it was a lot of work there for me not having a vacuum, or a washing machine. I swept with a broom and washed cloth baby diapers by hand and dried them on a clothes line I strung from the pillers of the balcony. My stove was a single burner that used propane and left a layer of black soot on the pots I sat on it...especially the boiler I used to sterilize baby bottles.
There was a little store a couple of blocks away where I could buy french baguettes and butter, There was a butcher shop that sold sliced meat and cheese. We were within walking distance of a "plague des infants"... a children's beach. There was a palace down that direction, too but the street was blocked off with guards in uniforms who waved us away from the palace itself. We watched from the front balcony in the afternoons right after prayers when the changing of the guards rode horses on the street in front of our apartment to and from the palace.
There was an open market a ways away from us, a long walk carrying a baby but a nice way to kill time. At the edge of the market was a group of boys who would follow me asking if I would hire them to carry things for me. At first I told them no, but later on I figured out that if I would hire one it did not cost much and the others would leave us alone. I never wanted to buy much .. a couple of potatoes. A few eggs. Never more than a serving or two of anything. At first it caused the stall sellers to show some anger toward me. I think it was in part because I was not a "good" customer and partly because I was not able to argue and barter with them over prices. But even there, a baby girl and a market "garcon" with me was all it took to decide they'd put aside any upset with me to smile and talk to Eva. And the boy never seemed to mind walking me home carrying my groceries. And flowers cost so little that I bought a bunch every time I went there.
When Bob came in from offshore two weeks later I knew my way around. He had friends on the rig. A cook he called "chef" sent food saying the amount was too small to serve to the rig workers...steaks and casseroles and cakes and even ice cream. A superintendent sent me addresses to find his wife and a church group and a club for english speakers... and a rattle thing he'd made for the baby.
Bob was "friends" with a street salesman who called him Boss that he called Joe who brought us to different restaurants and to a movie house -not a theater. You had to stand up to watch the show and it was pretty crowded but the movie was a Hollywood production in English with subtitles on the bottom. Joe told us about the resort and the Artisan Village and Ille le Gorre. He walked with us to show us the "garment district," and we bought fabric and chose patterns and ordered clothes to be made. I have two jackets from there still today. Joe "translated" for us speaking to the tailor shop owners. He explained about how he could tell different people on the streets where they were from by the clothes they wore. He told us one lady was very rich because she was big and round and her nails were long and polished, which meant she did no work. He taught us how to say our address so we could speak to taxi drivers and they would understand. He laughed at the women who seemed to be fussing at Bob and explained they were angry because Bob was carrying the baby... woman's work!
Joe offered to bring me a "girl" to do my cleaning and laundry. When he did, he brought me a gift-- a live chicken he had been carrying upside down by its feet. The girl named Marie was from a jungle village staying with her father's sister in town. She spoke Waloof and a smattering of French. She and I communicated in French. I spoke a smattering too. Enough to tell her she was hired. She left to go tell her aunt she had a job and I fixed Joe coffee. Eva got tired of looking at the chicken in the box and rolled herself over to Joe holding up her arms asking to be picked up. When he lifted her and sat her on the table in front of him she started rubbing his face then looking at her hand. Joe laughed loudly telling me she was trying to rub his black off. Then he reached out and rubbed Eva's cheek but her white didn't rub off either. We all three laughed. Even Eva.
When Marie returned, Joe left and I showed my new "girl" the closet where I kept the mop and brooms and Ajax and rags. She went to work immediately! As soon as she had pushed a rag over every part of the floors and furniture and even on top of the chifferobes, done the dishes, brought in the laundry and folded the diapers she came to say she was leaving. I told her that if she could understand me, to please take the chicken with her when she left. Apparently she didn't understand, because she left carrying a sack of trash with her.
Next morning Marie returned and first thing she went to see Eva, who was still sleeping. She then went to work cleaning the same floors she'd cleaned the day before. When Eva woke I showed Marie how I bathed her and dressed her and what I fed her and where to find everything. I showed her the empties of those things I needed from the market and the two of us went out together. She fixed a long strip of cloth around and under Eva like a sling with Eva as a counter weight. Ingenious! Later she taught me that trick but I don't know if I could do it today. .
We walked in a direction I'd never walked in before. Marie showed me the hallway where she lived with her aunt. I thought she was going to a different market than the one I usually frequented. She kinda did...it was a big building with Bon Marche in letters above the door and inside a grocery store with shelves and aisles and baskets with wheels just like at home. I bought baby food that had pictures on the label so I knew what it was even though the words were in French. I bought vegetables and pasta. I bought ground meet in the butcher shop. I wanted half a pound but did not know the word so I asked for 1 pound, not realizing everything was sold in kilos. I used the American sign holding up my forefinger for one, but in other countries the thumb means one and the forefinger two, so I bought nearly five pounds. Bob worked 14/7, gone for too long at a stretch, but I managed to stay busy. I had a tiny refrigerator with a tiny freezer, but I had enough space to store a meatloaf I made and hamburger patties and a casserole I served when he came home.
Because my spouse was the lowest "man on the totem pole" so to speak, I did visit the other wives of the crew he was on, but no one from the rig sought me out as a friend. I did visit my friend Callie Blackorby and she and Ronnie and Sissy visited me, too, but our houses were very far apart.
My neighbor in the apartment that used the same staircase as I did was an American flight attendant from California married to a pilot from Air Afrique so she spoke French. I showed her the supermarket and while we were shopping there I asked her the word for half... moite. I was going to buy the more expensive ground meet on the left because it was leaner but my friend told me that one was expensive because horse meat is a delicacy. So I bought half a pound of the ground beef on the right. It was too late to think about the already devoured "hamburger" that was already cooked and gone. And I can answer yes when anyone asks if I ever ate horse meat.
When I went to the English speaking Ladies Club I had the address for, I met an Irish woman whose husband worked on the Global Marine Endeavor same rig as Bob. She and I walked home together and realized her apartment was across the street from my own. We visited and went places sometimes, but mostly, Eva and I wandered the city on our own. We walked long distances and I lost a lot of weight, so I went a number of times to the garment district. I found a church where English was spoken, but I didn't have a sitter, so often needed to leave services early to hush my crying baby.
I found a steakhouse near the house accidently when I was out after dark headed home and hungry, followed a couple through the doors. It was a restaurant, but it was not right then open for business...it was a wedding reception and the couple I followed were the bride and groom. A young girl seated me got a high chair for Eva then sat down and tried to communicate with me asking questions in a combination of French and English. When I realized what she was saying about the wedding party I tried to leave but everyone was talking telling me to stay and eat with them. Eva fell asleep on the lap of grandmother in a rocking chair but I had a wide awake party with foods I never tasted before and wine!
I could not wait to bring Bob there during his 7 days home. We brought our friends Gary and Callie to eat there too. The steaks were perfect! Gary ordered well done and I ordered rare and they were fixed to perfection.
Gary and Callie went to the beach with us, too. Gary had lots of tattoos and the children on the beach never stopped staring and getting close asking to touch him. Once at the beach Bob and Gary dared one another to swim to an island a good distance away. I had Eva so I asked a man with a boat if he would take us across. When we got there Bob and Gary were sitting on the porch of a building with drinks in front of them. Turns out the island held summer resort homes. Bob and Gary went to what they thought was a bar and ordered drinks. The people in the house just went and got them beers. They didn't know any difference until they tried to pay for the drinks and the vacationers brought a fellow who spoke English to explain. When we wives and kids arrived, the French people invited us to stay, too. We asked the boatman to come back and get us in an hour and once again Eva stole the show.
Eva and I took taxis when the place we wanted to go was far away. She and I took several tours of the artisan village where people made carvings and pottery and wove cloth. It was reallby interesting to me and I was always bringing home a mask or an animal or a purse or blanket. Eva loved it there, too because everyone talked to her and played with her, young and old alike. Bob went once but he did not like it much. He spent most of his week onshore eating and drinking with the other Americans from the rig. Eva and I went along on those outings, but I often had to go run an errand at the bank or post office or take her home while Bob stayed.
One day Bob came home unexpectedly and told me the rig was on its way to Norway and we had 17 days before we needed to be there so we three packed our things, dropped off a few boxes of household dishes and towels at the Global Marine office and picked up airplane tickets to Frankfort, Germany to lay over there for a 2 weeks. We planned to visit the places that Bob had visited years before when he was stationed in Europe as an Air Force mechanic working on NATO planes. We wanted to see Holland tulip gardens and drink beer in the Dutch Cities like tourists.
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