I am Coumba!

So last Sunday we left the training center and entered the real world. For the next 3 months I will be living in the town of Nguekhokh. There are 5 of us in the town all learning Pulaar du Nord, which despite some confusion, is not the "hick" Pulaar. The family structure in this country is so different. Because they are predominantly Muslim, men can have up to 4 wives. Also, many grown children live with in their parents compound with their kids. So basically a whole bunch of people walk in and out of the compound and the goal at this point is just to figure out if they are or are not related to me. I think I only have one mom but I'm not sure because I have at least 1 half brother and a cousin(?) that I think live there. As far as I know, my family includes my grandmother, Neene (mother), Baaba (father who lives in Dakar), Moussa Siu (cousin, 20), Moussa (brother, around 10), Assata (sister, around 7), Aboye (sister, around 5) and Myram (infant). So now I just need to figure out how these random men that show up every night fit into the family picture.
My family is great though and they are very helpful. It's kind of like I'm a baby again as I'm learning. My little brother walks me to school, around the neighborhood, and kind of lets me know what I should be doing. My cousin and I draw pictures and he tells me the words in Pulaar. And the little girls, what can I say but that they are adorable and love to play with me and unfortunately mess up my stuff whenever possible. I even got a Senegalese name. You may call me Coumba Mai Mouma Ba. I will even answer when called.
The people in my neighborhood are really nice and they think its hilarious whenever I say anything in Pulaar. We are quite the source of entertainment for everyone I'm quite sure. It was like the story of the week that the baby not wearing a diaper missed the cloth on my lap and made a mess of my last pair of clean pants. Let's just say it wasn't even#1.
The food is actually really good at my homestay although I'm pretty sure I do not need the 2 or 3 suppers a night or 2 breakfasts. About the most important word for survival in this country is Mi haari which is I'm full. And even at that you hope they let you off without eating anymore. It will be great when Ramadan is over and the adults are done fasting from 7am to 7pm. Oh and if you ever have the chance to eat chaicre, it is amazing.
I swear storms in this country just appear and then vanish. It doesn't seem like you ever realize its going to rain until it starts. The storms are pretty hard core sometimes too. Sunday morning at like 4am it was pretty terrifying. Thunder would roar for like 5 minute periods and it was like the whole house was shaking. Rain drops could be felt from my bed clear across the room. The next day it was like nothing had happened. The dirt yard had been swept and everyone was bustling around as usual.
Well thats enough of that very very long post. Hope y'all are doing well.