Friday, September 30, 2011

Ma and Pa do Senegal: Heart warmth. Hardship. Hilarity.

My parents’ plane landed at the crack of dawn on my 25th birthday. I, being the responsible adult that I am, somehow slept through my alarm after my ‘anniversaire’ celebrations and was an hour late to pick them up. They, still with bright smiles on their faces, welcomed me with birthday hats and kuzos…on themselves and all of their newfound Senegalese friends. I hadn’t seen them in 9 months. How could a birthday get any better?

The two weeks they were here my parents experiences the full scope of my life in Senegal. Dear Senegal both wrapped its loving arms around them, while jabbing its knee into their stomachs. Here’s the jist of what went on.

My parents and fellow peace corps volunteers finally got to fall in love. It was nice for my American family here to meet the real live Amerian people who raised me and vice versa. My parents and I had a lovely seafood dinner in Dakar with some of my besties. They wasted no time getting to know one another and within minutes all of my embarrassing moments, as witnessed by either party, were thrown onto the table. It’s like my friends and parents were made for one another.

Team Tamba and mom and dad also got a lovely night of togetherness. It was neat to show my parents the house that I skype them from and that we Tambanites conduct our costume parties in. (PS: Tambacounda is my regional capital…we like to call it Sweet Home Tambacounda). It’s hard to explain to someone the bond that we PCV’s share, at first, simply because we share a region so I’m glad my parents got to see it firsthand and meet my dear Tamba folks!

Village. Oh Village. You are a lover and a beast all in one. My parents were both lucky enough to experience being REALLY sick without electricity or running water, in the hot, loud African bush. But seriously each of them were confined to bed…and the douche… for several days. This was real…shitty (haha)…no but seriously a real bummer considering what we had all had in mind.

On the upside, and it’s a big one, after everyone was healthy it was absolutely amazing to share my families with one another. For my Senegalese family, who has always known me as an independent adult, to see that, I too, have a mother and father who raised me. And for my parents to see that my Senegalese family is just that, my family. To see how deeply I love them and how deeply they love me.

You could just see the bonds of love form between my parents and my Senegalese family, ever so easily. My five year old niece teaching my dad clapping games, my mom playing bubbles with the kids and giving them light up wands to chase the bubbles with, my dad’s wrestling (hilarious considering my Senegalese dad is a midgety old man that probably weighs 85 lbs), mom showing my sisters my childhood photos , dad teaching Souleyman Jenga…all precious.

Mom fell in love with my very pregnant tokora (namesake), Aissatou. She took such good care of her, seeing how hard it is to be pregnant here, and made it her mission to see that Issa was comfortable and laughing at all times. Issa LOVED being doted on! She said that my mom was her mom too now. It’s hard to think of many women whom I love as ferociously as these two amazing women, so seeing their love beyond language to one another was enough to make me teary eyed at times. Mom and my younger sister Fatu also bonded quickly. Fatu has had a rough childhood and it was no surprise that my mom would swoop in and be the first to love the underdog with all her heart. Many nights my mom, sisters and I stayed up late talking and giggling...just like in America.

For my dad my brothers Mamadian and Souleyman were what made village so special. I often found them hanging out, regardless of whether or not I was there to translate. They somehow found a way to communicate just fine most of the time. Mamadian took my dad on a hike to a lookout spot in the woods and Mamadian came back with a random new English vocabulary. Big log. Small stick. Souleyman and dad were Jenga rivals and soccer fanatics. Souleyman made it his mission to beat dad in Jenga, where dad made it his mission to cheer Souleyman and Diakari Yow on at their soccer games (even though he couldn’t tell who was who after dropping his glasses in my douche).

It is funny how my parents gravitated towards the family members I am closest too. I don’t know if it’s because of my obvious love for them or because they are just that good. Probably both. Anyways, what an overwhelmingly meaningful few days. I really can’t compare how significant it many other mile stones in life.

Not only did my family love mom and dad, but (obviously), my whole village did. We had quite the dance and drum circle to welcome my parents (after they were finally feeling somewhat better). All the women danced their hearts out, including my rhythmically talented and sweet as can be girls group and my very pregnant sister and neighbor, both hard to take your eyes off of.

Out in vil my mom got to spend time with my work partner Ablay and his family, and again some of the girls from my girls group, all of whom have played a big role in my life over the past year and a half. An ancient old lady, Salemata, also tried to breast feed from my mother because, “Your mother has come! Our mother has come! Let us breast feed until we are full!” Yep.

Before leaving village my parents and I went to Wassadou to spend the day with my adopted Catholic family there. This is a family I hands down cannot imagine my service without. There are three girls about my age, Veronique, Terise and Marie Madeline, who are unmarried and without kids. Pretty much unheard of in Senegal. Thank you Catholics. This means that they are essentially the only women who I can relate to well and relate we do. We have a blast whenever put in one another’s company. They are my escape from village. My sleepover haven. Their dad, Illi, is the leader of the church and someone who I trust and have no problem going to for advice. That and the nature of our constant joking makes our relationship similar to that of me my Papa in America. Love this family.

My parents and Illi sat in our little cement and corrugated tin church and thanked one another back and forth. My parents know how important having this home away from village has been for me and thanked Illi over and over for welcoming me into the family and taking care of me. Illi told my parents how special I was to their family and church and thanked them over and over for raising me well and accepting my time in Senegal. Maybe I was just emotional during my whole parents visit but this was yet another time I wanted to cry out of pure joy and love.

My parents gave the church a black Madonna that made Illi the happiest man in the world. He insisted that I take a picture of my parents and him posing in front of the church, my parents with Mary in their hands giving her to Illi. Cheesy and freaking adorable.

That day my parents got to spend time with the catholic sisters I love so much. They are what the Senegalese call si-si’s. This has no English equivalent but is a combination of silly, playful, a little naughty, outgoing, etc. We joked around, all laughter. The theme of the day was, “jay fundae,” big butt. My parents were pretty good at that joke by now, pointing to me and saying JAY FUNDAE. It was refreshing to share yet another facet of my life here in Senegal with mom and dad.

As village time came to a close it was a very sad goodbye. My mom, my tokora, and I stayed up past midnight, all exhausted by clinging to the short time left we had with one another. As my parents and I headed towards the car, every single family member came and gathered around for one last goodbye. I don’t think there was one person who was not teary-eyed. It put real fear of my final goodbye into view. That is going to be one of the hardest things I will ever do. Anyways, in those moments of goodbye, it was obvious love had taken root and relationships had begun. My family. American and Senegalese. “Fof ko gotun (all are one).”

The trip doesn't end there...more to come...with pictures...God willing!