Senegalese Dining 101

1. You did not come to Senegal for the food. (Don't lie.) This guide addresses the basic rules of etiquette when it comes to nourishing oneself in a Senegalese setting. If you wanted gourmet, you'd be in Paris.
2. Utensils: Forks, knives, spoons? Senegalese response: hands. Hand, that is. The right one. Use left and find yourself banished from the bowl. (I've yet to address the bathroom situation in depth...no toilet seat, nor toilet paper. The Senegalese have very strong quads and calves, and very dexterous left hands. In other words, the left hand is considered a tool for the dirtiest of work. It is likewise shunned from more delicate tasks such as eating and hand shaking.)
3. Bowl? Yes. The entire family eats from one bowl (mum - our big red bowl!) centered over a rug in whatever particular floor space has been designated the "dining room" for that night. Most eat from a seated position on the floor, while miniature rectangular stools - which usually give the recipient an advantage of about 4 extra inches - may be provided for a few of the women and smaller children. As a guest, you will be given a stool for the first three days. After that, it's up to you to negotiate stool real estate. Thusfar I have shared spots on these stools with two infants, an aunt, and a maid. Bowl-eating etiquitte requires one to mentally divide the bowl into sections (think of pieces of a pie), and to then eat whatever food happens to land in that section. Do not go scavenging. Pieces of fish and meat will most likely appear magically in your section from time to time. (This fact bewildered and amazed me for the first few days. A careful eye caught the quick hand of a concerned aunt looking out for my well being and waistline.)
4. Rice. Learn to like it. Brown, tan, speckled, off-white...It is the base (literally...underneath) of almost every meal. If not...
5. Bread! Baguette, always. Think of it as that other missing utensil. It is fine to hold your bread in your left hand as you are tearing it with your right. However, do not attempt to pop that last morcel of left-hand bread into your mouth without first switching it to the right hand! (see #2)
6. Fish. No matter how many times Khady unveils our dinner of fish and rice, I still can't quite accustom myself to seeing the dinner literally staring back at me. The fish are always whole...skin, tail, bones (lots), eyes... Don't worry about navigating the bones: as a foreigner, you are treated much like a child in the eating process, and this translates to preferential treatment in the division of meat. (see generous aunt in #3)
7. Beverages - not necessary. There will not be one with dinner.
8. Spice - Last night, the family decided to play a joke on me by purposefully scooting one of the fire-truck red peppers into my section of the bowl. Without a second thought I began to include it in my next bite, when suddenly the whole family burst out laughing and told me to "Laisse-la!" (put it down!) This was apparently one of their hotter peppers, and was not meant to be eaten by an american, "We haven't seen you cry yet, but you would if you ate it!" After watching carefully, I then surprised them by following suit with an aunt who had squished the pepper oils into a bite of couscous. I took the plunge. The Sambs watched in bemused horror - one nearly went for water. I, meanwhile, finished my bite and went for the next - surprised and underwhelmed by the medium level of heat I felt in my mouth. Thanks to spice-abusers for parents, it was nothing. I think I gained some respect in the family.