There are multiple forces that conspire against the tubaab who would like to stay fit, or at least not gain weight, when living in Dakar. The urban Senegalese diet, while high in fresh fish, is also high in fats, oils, and carbs (think fried fish and fried white rice every day for lunch, sometimes with a heavy dose of palm oil to boot). Then there is the eating around the common bowl, which makes portion control impossible. Finally there is the Senegalese hospitality mantra to contend with: "Eat more. You haven't eaten anything. You must not like it. You are only pretending to eat." Put all of these things together, add heat and humidity that make it nearly impossible to get any exercise, and you have a recipe for a body mass index disaster.
In the past I have almost always lived with Senegalese friends and family. This turns out to be a pretty good technique because in spite of the questionable nutritional content of some meals, the rotation of Senegalese dishes gets monotonous enough that you tend to eat only your fill. There is also very little snacking in a Senegalese household because there is no fridge or goody cupboard with highly refined carbs to eat at any time of day or night. If I spend more than a few weeks with a Senegalese family I usually lose several pounds.
Our current living situation seems to be creating the worst of all possible hybrids: Senegalese lunches and often Senegalese dinners, AND a fridge and cupboard full of tubaab snacks (fruit yes, but also ice cream, cookies, beer, cheese, bread). Then there is the fall-back strategy for dealing with our cook's mediocre cooking and limited repertoire Senegalese dishes, which is to hit our neighborhood Salon de The for some pain au chocolat with a side of cafe and perhaps a big buttery crepe on the side.
The standard of beauty here is for women to be round and curvy, if not downright obese at a certain age. Since gaining weight is a good thing, people are sure to tell you if they notice that you have put on even a few pounds. Since we don't have a scale, I will be on the lookout for side-long glances at my arse followed by approving clucks that I am gaining weight and that life in Dakar must be good. If the consensus of the public scale seems to be that I am putting on the kilos, we might have to take some belt-tightening measures around here.
(Of course, fast food junkie A has already lost about 5 pounds from his McDonald's withdrawal. That's what I get for having healthy eating habits in the US).
The other CARE interns with me in Tanzania two summers ago were Danish. They were all blond, very tall and thin, i.e. gorgeous by Western standards. But it was me, the average height, slightly plump, brown haired girl who received most of the marriage proposals. The shortest of the three did get one proposal, but it was qualified with the request that she gain some weight first!
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