I have never encountered a more friendly and giving people. We had the good fortune of really living with Senegalese families, eating meals and sharing responsibilities, but mainly sharing laughter and smiles. I have walked away from this week with addresses and gifts and memories to last a lifetime. The kindness and generosity of the people I encountered was humbling: many of the people we met had next to nothing, but insisted on sharing it with us.

Children learn about sharing at an early age, and many of them - hardly able to walk or talk - already showed signs of their parents' generosity. Delphine, a two-year-old, would eat half her cracker and offer the other half to someone. Every single time. Generosity is ingrained in Senegalese culture like competition plays its part in everything American.

We met Mireille, a young woman whose husband is in the army in Gabon. She lives alone in a small room, equipped with just a bed. She does the cooking out on the balcony, most likely because the hallway is filled with neighboring families doing theirs. Water for bathing comes from a communal spout, put into a bucket that is then brought into a maketshift shower stall. Her life was stripped down to the bare essentials, and I realized while staying with her that, really, that is all one needs. Mireille insisted we sleep on her bed, while she took the floor. There was no arguing with her, we were her guests and she would not have it any other way. After spending a few days at her house, where every morning I woke up to the sounds of goats walking by and children playing, we headed to Mbour, a smaller town north of Dakar.

There we stayed with the family of Laura's (my American friend currently living in Senegal) boyfriend. We sat out on the terrace, telling jokes, drinking tea. On more than one occasion, the men from the family would accompany us out on excursions to be sure we were safe and taken care of. The warmth of this family was overwhelming and humbling.

It was in Mbour that I learned about true relaxation, about the ability to just sit back and enjoy the sun, the conversation, the smell in the air. We would wake up, greet everyone in the morning (in Senegal, greetings and handshakes are the backbone of social manners), sit around for awhile, eat some breakfast, sit around some more, eat lunch, and then eventually motivate to whatever small task we had planned for the day. Even when we did try to move quickly, people in the family always insisted we just sit back and relax a little more, stay home and enjoy some more conversation. It was never hard to convince us to do so.

I could go into the individual stories: the time we ran into Martin on the way to the market, the tailor who called me to wish me "bon voyage" after only having met me the day before, the day I spent two hours outside the house, just watching the goats and children walk by while the rest of the house was taking their afternoon nap. But I know, unfortunately, that telling these stories would never make it clear just how much this trip has changed me. I feel I've seen human kindness on a scale that simply doesn't exist in Europe or the United States. I also know that somewhere we all have the possibility to find this kindness within ourselves, no matter what culture we come from. I just hope I don't forget that, and I don't let the rather unfriendly Parisian attitude keep me from at least incorporating such kindness on a smaller scale in my daily life.

Pictures to come. For right now, despite all the wonders I discovered in Senegal, I am going through a bit of a post-trip depression, complete with a rather nasty reaction to some bacteria I managed to pick up while over there. They warn you about vegetables and water and peeled fruit and everything else under the sun, and rightly so. Something I ate got to me, and I've spent the last 48 hours going from the bed to the toilet and back again. But I feel it's a small price to pay. I'm scared to go back into Paris, where the people are cold and uncaring by comparison. For now, I am happy to remain in bed, remembering the kindness of strangers and smiling back at the memories.

And yes, Pennsylvania Boy will be back in a few days. So yes, this is very short term. But Bastien and I just sat on my twisty chair together, reading the news online, and I sighed a little happy sigh. So did Bastien. And now he's sleeping. This is my idea of dog ownership heaven.

The only problem I have with this dog is that he farts a lot. Not sure if that's the food or the inbreeding or what. But Christ. We used to say that my sister's dog, Jupiter, could clear a room with his gas. I think Jupe would be up for some tough competition around these parts, though. The difference is, Jupiter was a big, huge Greyhound. Bastien is a midget bulldog. If we're talking proportionally, Bastien packs way more bang in his punch.

A and I took the little feller on the bus to get back to my place from where we picked him up. It was too far to walk, what with the bags and the dog food and the dog FREAKING OUT on the street every two steps. And he's small enough that you can hold him for awhile without getting tired. So I thought, Eh, we'll take him on the bus and then get home. No problem, right? The ride is what, like, fifteen minutes?

Bad move. The little guy let one rip that was so foul that the guy next to us stopped reading his newspaper so he could cover his face with it. A and I couldn't contain our laughter, so it became obvious that it had come from the dog (or one of us, which I suppose is worse). We wisely decided to get off a the next stop, out of fear that Bastien would get a "second wind."

Anyway, farting aside, dog ownership (I know, I know, I'm only babysitting. But let me live out the fantasy to its fullest, here. Thanks) is really fun. Thus far today, we have discussed appropriate and inappropriate places to pee (he's paper trained), how to best walk on a leash when on a crowded sidewalk, and why the hell so many stupid-ass democrats keep voting for John Kerry. Oddly, it seems that Bastien is an Edwards fan. Who'd have known?

I've decided to put off all decisions until November/December 2004. I am, however, doing investigative work and checking out the possibilities out there for me. Whatever I do is going to be a big change, so I'm bracing myself for it. But I'm also getting excited. After two years of feeling like I don't have my shit together, it's thrilling to finally feel I'm moving forward.

One thing that helps is having friends who aren't afraid of crazy things. Another thing is realizing that I'm young and I'll probably have the freedom to take ideas and run with them at this point in my life. A third is that I actually really like what I am studying (despite the fact that I bitched about exams at least six times on this web site), and that I know I want to continue.

Anyway, I'm just happy. I'm working hard, remaining active, feeling accomplished, and going to bed every night exhausted. This is the way things should be. And it's a rhythm I hope to keep up as long as my mind and body can take the heat.

Ok. I just had to get that out there. My one moment of stability just needed to be noted. Let's hope all hell doesn't break loose when I check my exam results on Friday.*

*One note on exam results: the literature results have already been posted. I'd say about one in ten people passed.

Apparently, we were not the only ones. TGFM got their first, and had to tell ten people that the seat across the table from her was taken. After waiting a few minutes, she called me to find out how much longer she'd have to fight. When I finally showed, I just started laughing: the line for coffee was at least twenty people long, and in France that means at least 20 minutes, too. More like 40. So we wisely decided that, you know what, Starbucks can wait another day.

Instead, we went to a typical French cafe where the waiter was an asshole and there was too much smoke in our faces. It was great - once everyone arrived, we managed to get down to business after talking for over an hour. We shared some great lesson plans, and I'm so happy to have some new ideas/possibilities for the classroom. I'm that big of a dork.

And, of course, it's also just nice to meet up with other young Americans (who are working the same job as I am) for story-swapping and the like. They're all great (there were four of us total), and I'm glad that two of them are sticking around next year as well. I wish the forth member of our quartet was too, but she's got some exciting projects on the horizon so I can see why she would pass up a low-wage job in France to move on to greener pastures.

Anyway, a good day, all in all, considering I woke up slightly hungover from a relatively mild night at the bar yesterday. I don't even think I had four drinks. I'm not quite sure why I had such a headache this morning.

Now tonight it's off to the restaurant with The Boy, whom I have been neglecting far too much in the last week. He's been a grumpy asshole for the last two days, but I think it's because he was just fed up with my going out all the time (The Cowgirl and I hit the town quite a bit) while he stayed at home. He's back to his regular old self, now, and I'm happy about that. It's never easy to live with an asshole.

All in all, a good day Saturday. And tomorrow I get to sleep in one more day before the madness begins all over again on Monday. A whole new semester! I still don't feel I've had a true vacation!

No worries: I leave for Senegal in twelve days.

1. Dooce had her baby! Congrats to the Armstrongs. This has to be one of the biggest events in the blogosphere. Certainly bigger and more thrilling than the firing incident that catapulted Dooce to blog fame in 2001.

2. The Cowgirl and I felt so bad about missing out on a truly American experience that we went on a search of Janet's boob revelation. That is hilarious. In the search, we also learned that the incident marks the most-searched-for topic, ever, in the history of the internet.

3. I have seen two movies this week: 1) The Last Samourai. I don't recommend it, unless you like Hollywood crap and war films. The Cowgirl and I both kept laughing at various random lines, because of the combination of Tom Cruise's bad acting and the gloriously bad script writing. We couldn't help ourselves ("Tell me how he died." "No, I'll tell you how he lived."). and 2) 21 Grams, which I was pleasantly surprised by. I thought it was excellent, and was nothing like I had thought it would be.

4. I tried raclette for the first time at a fête thrown by a friend from the Sorbonne. Man, raclette is good! I think I'm going to have to introduce the family to it, providing a fondu alternative. We drank far too much and I spent all day Sunday recovering. The Cowgirl had also had a party of her own, both of us stumbling back home in the wee hours of the morning. This meant that we both slept until 5.30 on Sunday evening. We were completely outta whack. I was still feeling the effects of my fucked-up schedule on Monday, when I had to work at 7 am.

5. The last three days have been beautiful in Paris - very sunny and almost warm. I would place this sort of weather to be early April-ish. It's having a positive effect on almost everybody, but the high school kids seem to think it means they have to yell for me to hear them. I'm right in front of you, kiddo. No need to scream. Really, though, this weather is fabulous. I can't believe this is happening in February. I just hope it doesn't mean either an extended winter or another heat wave come June.

6. I can't believe how quickly my semi-vacation has gone (vaca from school, but not from work). It feels impossibly speedy. So Monday, it's back to square one.