Gives a whole new meaning to the phrase, "Let's Bounce!"

Yesterday after a 3-hour Wolof class, learning helpful phrases like “am na ku soxla Tiffany” (there is someone who needs Tiffany) and “mën naa ko ko jaay” (I can sell her to him), I followed 7 of my classmates in search of a stress reliever. We found it in the form of a giant trampoline playplace on the ocean.

I’d seen it before on our walks to the local Toubab Market, as we call it. “Toubab” means white person, or foreigner, and there is a store not far from the West African Research Center (WARC) where we have class, that caters to Dakar’s Toubab population. Inside there are shelves of cookies, crackers, cheese, jams, nutella, personal hygiene items including toilet paper! (shout-out to Karin; thanks!) and school supplies all with fixed prices! No haggling allowed! Also, they have change, which is a rare commodity in Dakar.

Anyway, TrapolinePlace was in sight, all that stood in our way was La Corniche (main road along the ocean). Senegalese traffic can be pretty intimidating... it took about 15 minutes.

Crossing the street was, as Ginger put it, like a real-life version of Frogger. Four lanes of traffic, with a thigh-high concrete median running down the middle. Sara dove in first, with Baird close behind. They stood on the median, as cars whizzed by. I ran at the next opening, and almost died trying to jump up onto the median in my skirt – cars honked, and glanced over to Sara and Baird who had already made it to the other side. I quickly joined them and we looked back at the group of Toubabs on the other side, eyeing the traffic nervously. Leah and Ginger made it next, posing like models on the median. Baird and I joked about how it would make a good challenge for next season of America’s Next Top Model Dakar. I can hear Tyra now, “Fierce eyes!” “Models have to be ready for anything!” Anyway, when we finally had everyone together, we turned to face our target. There were 8 large rectangular trampolines with cushion dividers. An exercise group was doing synchronized yoga in a circle a little way away. For 500 CFA a person we got 15 minutes (actually closer to half-an-hour? Longer?) of jumping, bouncing, flips and mad fun. We each bounced in our section until we tired of that and took turns highjacking the trampolines of others. I’d been the only genius who’d worn a skirt that day, but I wrapped my shawl around my waist and tied it again between my legs to make some makeshift bloomer/pants and it worked out fine.

Someone discovered that if you stopped for a minute and tried to jump on the wooden plank in the center, it felt as though your legs were made of lead. High on exercise-hormones, I found this hilarious. We all vowed to return, and maybe even make it a habit – one to replace our afterschool French fry addiction.

I told the family about it when I got home, and Dibor laughed, “That’s for little kids.” And also Toubabs.



Cristina didn’t bounce, but she took millions of beautiful pictures and we all love her for it.
!