Because of recent political upheaval in Dakar, Senegals capitol city, tortured L and K by taking them straight from the airport to the garage for an 8 hour station car ride to Tamba. It was cruel, but hey, safety is no accident. They were shocked at what we call the garage, essentially a huge parking garage with cars faced in every direction filling cars to head to different destinations. People are selling literally everything; shoes, batteries, toothbrushes, eggs, razors, bananas, etc. People are yelling, children are begging, it is pure chaos. Welcome to Senegal L and K!
Our time in Tamba was spent eating warthog (with Buffalo Wild Wing sauce-Thanks to Lisa!) and shopping at the market.
The marriage proposals started instantly, something that Senegalese men pretty much never stop doing. "Offer me your friends!" It was determined that Kristen was the ‘vrai’ (true) American because of her height (PS: being 6 foot does not translate to fun times in Senegalese public transportation.) and that Lisa was Rihanna...no explanation given. They said I was no longer American.
At the market we bought 3 chickens for my family and named them breakfast, lunch and dinner. We transported them back on a donkey cart and almost hit a sheep on the way. Three white people in the center of town with chickens, donkeys and sheep in the mix...we were quite the scene.
After eating some local foods, we headed to VILLAGE!
After our 4 hour bus ride we biked into my village under beautiful African skies as the sun was setting.
The children sang and cheered a warm welcome as we entered my compound (aka my family’s living space full of huts). The kids instantly latched onto Kristen and Lisa and a deep love affair between them began. Kristen and 3 year old Mamadou were obsessed with one another from the first minute. Just after meeting Mamadou Kristen said, "Mamadou, you are perfect in every way."
Our first day in village, K and L were involved in several murders. They watched my brother kill the chickens and even participated in plucking them. They were pretty nonjudgmental at my gross new habits until we got the chicken head in our bowl and I ate the brains. Seriously, try it people. Brains are wise and tasty!
TOKORAS!
One of Kristen and Lisa's favorite things that happened in my village was them being given Senegalese names. There is a name-sake system here. I am named after my sister-in-law Aissatou. In Pulaar a name-sake is your tokora. Lisa was named after my younger sister Fatou
and Kristen was named after my dad's second wife Penda.
The Fatou's and Penda's joyously celebrated, dancing and giggling and were all instantly bonded. "Mi weltike, mi hebi tokora!" There really is an unexplainable special relationship that develops between you and your tokora.
On Sunday I took K and L to Wassadou for Pulaar church and to pass the afternoon with my Catholic family. Our day was nice and relaxing with chicken and dancing. The most entertaining thing that happened this day was our encounter with a real live racist monkey. Here is what I wrote in my journal:
***So there is this monkey that a family in Wassadou owns and has tied to its tree. I have always felt it hated me and claimed it was racist but today my accusations were proven 100% accurate. Illi (the father of my Catholic family...PS: I only refer to them that way because Senegal is 95+% Muslim.) fed the monkey a peanut and the monkey ate the peanut and played with Illi, hanging onto his leg and acting pet-like. When I leaned down to pet him, he bared his teeth, hissed and backed up. Okay, maybe it's because he doesn't know me well? I take a few steps back and offer him a few peanuts. He takes them, looks at me disgusted, rolls them around in the sand, as if trying to get my dirty germs off of them and then glares at me while eating them. Maybe he specifically hates me for some reason? Lisa and Kirsten do the same offering of peanuts. He responds with distrust, the 'cleaning' of peanuts and pure hatred. Perhaps just a bad mood? A Senegalese woman joins the crowd that was now forming and gives the monkey a handful of peanuts; he happily eats them as fast as he can without ever rubbing them in the sand. It is a well known fact to Senegalese monkeys: only white people are dirty.
Illi, Kristen, Lisa and I could not stop laughing at this obvious, slap in the face, kind of racism possessed by a monkey! It was just as funny to hear Illi recount the story, "And then the monkey took the peanut from Aissatou's (me) hand and before he ate it he rubbed it in the sand to get of her white germs! Hahaha. It was not an animal of the forest. If not for its body hair and being tied to a tree you would have thought it was just a racist person!" ***
WEDDING!
Back to my village and the biggest event of the season: My brother Mamadian got married!!! I don't even know where to start in terms of the wedding story. Dancing, food, Pulaar customs, Senegalese outfits, music galore, etc.
I guess I'll start by meeting the bride. Ramatou is her name. The marriage was arranged and she is from a village far away, so I was pretty nervous about her age. Luckily, L and K estimated that she is approximately 17, so that is much better than 14. We met her at a sort of bridal shower. All of the women in the village went to the hut that she was staying in before she moved to our and danced. Ramatou mostly sat on the bed and it seemed like the shower was for other peoples enjoyment, not her own, but she looked more content than I expected. She was quiet but I am sure she was nervous. She was moving to a village she has never been to, living with a family she has never met, about to have sex for the first time with a man she hardly know, take on wife duties, etc. Scary stuff if you ask me.
That night was like a dance rave. My family rented HUGE speakers and the DJ was kickin' the base from before sunset until after 3 a.m. Lisa, Kristen and I all dressed in full Senegalese outfits and partied on with the one billion people who showed up to my compound. We got down to loud repetitive techno...you know I am getting sentimental about leaving Senegal because I loved it. The bride was not involved in the dance off.
The next day was the bringing of the bride. All of the women went over to the hut where the bride spent the night and my sisters led a procession, bringing the bride to our house. My tokora led the ceremony, carrying the bride and grooms dinner on her head. She had such a serious stoic expression on her face and just looked like an african queen. Ramatou was veiled with thick white fabric so that you could not see her face, but was led by an old woman and about 100 more of us. We sang and clapped, taking several pauses to dance about having a new woman in the house, a new sister, a new guest. It was beautiful to see my sisters lead this celebration and to see how excited they were. "Ay, Ay, men weltike! Yes, Yes, we are happy!"
The bride and groom, Ramatou and Mamadian, took turns feeding each other dinner as they shared their first meal as a married couple. After that a huge dance circle started. Family and friends gathered around clapping and dancing. Even my 80ish year old mom got to stomping. We filled a bucket with water, turned a bowl upside down on top of it and used sticks to play our homemade drum. It was more than powerful to see all the people I love most here celebrate so joyously.
That night was another bass bumping night that the girls and I did not have the energy to participate in. That was pretty much the entirety of the wedding minus some Pulaar customs I have no idea how to explain via blog.
Bride Update: Ramatou is an amazing addition to our family. Her and Mamadian seem genuinely happy and joke around a lot. She is a perfect sister and aunt to the adults and kids alike. She works hard and plays harder. Our laughter has increases since Ramatou's arrival...plus she loves Parcheesi!
Back to Lisa and Kristen's visit. The rest of the time we were in village we spent hanging out with my sibilings. The girls got their hair braided, we all hung out under the stars goofing around and talking about boys and teaching them funny things to say in English, like, bros before hoes fo sho. We helped the women with chores; pounding corn, pulling water and going to the garden and visited other families around the village.
Where do I begin? In 2005 I met two amazing friends in th
Saying goodbye was a sad preview for the real thing in April. Everyone was sorry to part ways. Everyone assured L and K how happy they were to have met them and insisted that they greeted their familes and my family in America. Fatu (Lisa's tokora) tried to get them to stay by faking sleep. Eventually she offered them her left hand, a foie pas (because that's your bathroom hand) unless you are saying a very important goodbye. It's said that you must meet again to fix this mistake. I teared up watching the goodbyes between people I know and love that do not share the same language, culture, ethnicity, religion, etc., and seeing the love that had grown between them in such a short time. POWERFUL STUFF.
Oh yeah, I took K and L to my escape away from village, the Gambia River.
We went on little motor boat (that broke down several times) to get close to the hippos. Check this baby out.
After village, K, L and I spent another night in Tamba before heading to the desert. On the bus ride into town Lisa and I were suffering from cases of running stomach (diarhea) and Kristen got peed on through a window by a goat that was on the top of the bus. We called it her Senegalese baptism...it's a surprisingly common happening.
DESERT!
In terms of West Africa, Senegal is a baller country to be living in. Sure you have dirty cities, but the rural scenery is so abundant and unique. Kedougou is mountainous and full of waterfalls, baobab trees are everywhere in Kolda, in Palmarin there are mangroves all along the coast and then there is the desert. Lompoul is in the middle of the desert and I got to experience it for the first time with Kristen and Lisa. We stayed in Mauritanian style tents as the base of the sand dunes and spent the whole day hiking in the dunes...sand as far as you could see. We rolled down the dunes, did cartwheels made sand angles and hiked (naked). We rode camels at sunset, led by a Pulaar man (my people!). A night there was a drum circle and delicious Moroccan meal before retiring to our tents for the best night of sleep I have had in Senegal. I love this place of rolling sand dunes as far as you can see!
DAKAR!
We ended our trip in the capital, Dakar with a beach day.
They are my favorite, duh. After souvenir shopping my brother Umar met us for dinner as a delicious restaurant with live jazz music. Win. Then after 10 amazing days, we took Lisa and Kristen to the airport to say goodbye. I cannot believe how fast our time together went. I feel incredibly lucky to have had Lisa and Kristen as visitors. Every minute of our time together was priceless. I was continually surprised by their openness and laid back attitudes to whatever Senegal had to throw at them. They were easy going and adventurous as can be and sharing my village, family and life here with them was special every step of the way. I couldn't be happier to have re-united with such amazing friends that will now understand the weird me that comes back to America. I love you guys and count you as beautiful blessings in my life!
