Cafe Touba

Beverages are a serious thing here in Senegal. Earlier I mentioned the hours that people spend making a thimblefull of tea which tastes like boiled burned rubber to me.

Cafe Touba is another such delicacy. Thick boiled yumminess with too much sugar and lovely spices. I was going to look up what it consists of, but I can't get to any site but this, including my email which really sucks.

Anyway, Touba is the spiritual center of Senegal where there is an awesome mosque and spiritual leader. I'll look up more info later.

And a Toubab is a white person, which sometimes children and men shout at at me, though usually they are much less obnoxious than children and men in Ghana. Here, children approach me to shake my hand and say politely Bonjour, ca va? There they rush me and crowd me and all too often say Give Me Money. Blech.

So I sometimes call it Cafe Toubab, in my honor. And I think I'll go get some soon though my stomach is pretty messed up. Which is going to be fine, because Gora just confirmed my flight for tomorrow. It took 12 phone calls to get British Airways number and do it, but that boy is nothing if not tenacious. No, he's more friendly than he is tenacious, but he is both.

So, I'll be on an airplane in 19 hours and there will be a restroom with toilet paper, though I always arrive prepared, and running there regularly will be much less of an ordeal than it usually is here.

I will drink my Cafe Touba while sitting right next to the bathroom at the house, and then wait for the inevitable belly rumblings when I eat or drink anything.