Where are you going with that?

I started off today like I start every morning: news, coffee, oatmeal, shower, and greeting my hfmom. When she saw me this morning the first thing she said to me was, “where are you going with that helmet?” See, yesterday I had tried to go for a bike ride against her warning of, “it’s too hot” and ended up back home in 20 minutes saying myself, “it’s too hot!” (this whole ‘mother’s are always right’ thing seems to transcend cultures). I quickly explained that I was not trying to beat the heat again but rather riding to a meeting at the University and was off!
The rest of the day pretty much went downhill so I’m going to skip over all of that. It’s not like one major thing went wrong, it was just one of those days where a series of things goes wrong and it feels like karma’s coming to kick your ass.
I ended my day the same as I end every day: sitting on the mat with my host family watching Marina (my favorite soap opera). Then right before a huge climatic scene (“when are they coming back with Patty’s body?” ask the characters who don’t know Patty’s alive and probably about to walk through the door!!!) the power cut…. So the host family started chatting. Eventually they asked me to join in (I usually love conversation but when it’s in Wolof I usually can’t even figure out what they’re talking about) so I thought I would pose a question of my own. “Why does everyone think that because I’m white I want to marry them?” Everyone laughed and explained to me that it was just a joke and when some stranger yells at me that they love me I should just respond that I’m married and I don’t love them. That, of course, made way for a discussion about how my husband should really marry one of my hfsisters and when I explained they were far too young and that’s illegal in the US… “he could move to Senegal.” Eventually my hfmom proclaimed it was my husband and me rekk (only). (For those that need to be caught up, I told everyone I was married.)
The “unwanted attention,” whether it is the marriage requests or just being yelled at about whatever, is one of the hardest things to deal with. I understand that I stick about but every single day since I’ve been in country I’ve had at least one frustrating experience with someone singling me out (usually it’s a guy following me for about half a block asking me how I am in Wolof, French, and English as I ignore him but it ranges based on the day). It’s nice that I can joke with my host family about it but I don’t think they understand that it doesn’t feel like a joke.
Sorry for two frustrated posts in a row but that’s how Africa is some days. I refuse to let Africa win tomorrow!

KO