Let's Learn

Bienvenue!

Before I even stepped into my neighborhood, its reputation preceded itself as nothing less than a community. For those of you who know me well, you know my instant reaction: a smile. There's nothing more that I like than when I enter into a place that has a community into which I may find a position. And, this is exactly what I hope to do.

To get to my neighborhood of Ouakam (!) from the school, I must take public transportation. If I do not then it's a 45 minute walk, which I have done once. Though I enjoyed it, I'll be waiting a while before repeating it. Every day, I take what is called a car rapide to and from school. But don't let the name fool you. Even though it is faster than walking, it's not that rapid. The best part about it is the feeling that you are constantly playing a game of how many people can the guy cram into the back of a van. But seriously, this vehicle that is about the size of a suburban can fit 20 people, easy. Also, I'm white, so I get stared at a lot. It was pretty uncomfortable at first, but I think I'm getting used to it. Also, I've learned that if you don't speak and try not to look into anyone's eyes then you're good. In Senegalese culture, it is very rude to look directly into someone's eyes, especially when you're in close quarters with them. Though Americans are known for their "bubbles," I would definitely argue that this cultural aspect of Senegalese society creates, for me at least, a complex web of ways in which one is able to speak to someone that you are elbowing and they are half sitting on your lap.

Here in Dakar, I am not only white but I am an American. I have been told that my presence is that of a "Toubab": one who has much and one who loves to have much (as in material worth). It is not common to have much material worth in Dakar, but this is not necessarily due to a lack of things here. One can buy much here, but in the teachings of Islam one is not measured upon one's material items but rather their mbokk: the amount of people someone shares their material things with. Senegalese people are very well known for their hospitality, and this is why: they see their worth not in the amount of things that they have for themselves, but in their ability to give what they have to others. One's worth is evident in events such as births, marriages, and funerals, where people come to show their support of your individual actions. sOmetimes it is difficult to remind myself that the relationships that I build with my family, whether that be through watching hours of soap operas that I really don't understand or painstakingly peeling cloves of garlic, are more important for my self worth than being able to afford to take showers from something other than buckets.

Every day, we cross a road to get to school. Well, we cross many. There are no red lights or stop signs in Dakar. In fact, I've only seen one speed limit sign. People kind of just drive and stop for people only when they have to do so. If you're walking, watch out because they aren't going to stop for you. Pedrestrians have no rights on the road. Anyone remember that game where you're the frog that's trying to cross the road, and about eight times out of ten you get splattered? Well, that's exactly how it feels here, haha.

My Wolof and French are slowly but surely getting better. Even in a country where English is neither the formal or informal language, people love to speak it with you. However, my family has been extremely supportive in my Wolof and French endeavors. I just found out two days ago that my sister, Yacine, who I've been hanging out with most, has been taking English for 6 years! She speaks very well, but will not do so with me because she wants me to learn French. Also, one of my brothers, El Hadj, will only speak in Wolof with me.

The best thing about learning Wolof is that I am taken more seriously when I speak it to people around town, such as in the stores and at the markets. However, I am afraid to get too good because then rather than being considered a Toubab, I will be thought of as a Demm. This is the name for spirits that live among humans, acting like humans, but they harm humans. If a white person speaks Wolof well, then they are considered a Demm, and people do not associate with… Bon chance, oui?

Ok, so though the whole Demm concept is a little out of the ordinary for the city, it is still believed by older people out in communities outside of the city. However, there are certain things that 99% of Senegalese (and other West African peoples) believe.
1) While in Senegal, you are on Senegalese time, which means about 15 to 45 minutes late.
2) On a more serious note, no matter what your religion is, you should have one. In Senegal, though it is about 94% Islamic, all religions are allowed. After talking with some Senegalese students who attend the law school next door to us, we began to understand why atheism is not really viable in Senegal. One guy explained to us that to be of a different religion is completely different than to say that one has no religion. He asked us how we could believe that nothing had created us and everything around us. Even if you believe in totems (animal-like gods), you still have something that is your protector against the hardships of life. So, to tell a Senegalese person that you do not believe that there is something beyond yourself, it's totally mystifying. They will be able to comprehend this notion; not because they are intelligent but because it does not fit into their system of knowledge. I have heard this explanation from friends at home as well. It's interesting to see this point of view from nation that is almost homogenous in their faith.

Going back to mbokk, Senegal really is the most hospitable place that I've ever been to in my life. Apart from the awkward car prides, Senegalese customs call for every person to give more than they receive or keep for themselves. One way to do this is to offer your guest tea while they are visiting. However, as the guest, be prepared to give back about 4 hours of your time. There are three rounds of tea, and it is prepared over a gas burner from tea leaves, water, and special pouring techniques. This tea is really good. I mean really good. Very minty and refreshing, while at the same time sweet and satisfying.

If you aren't visiting someone at their home, you'll probably go out for a little sorti. My night at my house, my sister Yacine took me to the statue of President Wade. It's beautiful, no doubt. However, it leaves a bad taste in my mouth, especially after learning that it cost millions of dollars. Though Wade uses his words well, his actions do not uplift this country. Each and every day, I am passed by at least 100 children who are on the streets begging. Whether they are part of the talibe (an informal organization that beats children who return with no money) or they have ran away form home where they were spending each and every day in a gold mine, these children need millions of dollars spent on them.

We spent some time with the creator of the documentary "Stolen Innocence." I HIGHLY recommend that you watch this. He has spent a lot of time creating other films like this that he has introduced to the general Senegalese society to highlight these problems to the public.

Ok, so somehow it has slipped my mind until now to really tell you all about my family. So the CIEE program goes like this:
You take five courses: one Wolof language, one French language (I got into the highest level, eek!), on Contemporary Senegalese Society, and two electives. For my electives, I chose History of Islam and Education and Culture in Senegal. While I am here for four months, I not only will be studying in a foreign country and culture, but I will also be living in it. That means no hot showers from the pipes, no hiding in my room after class on Facebook (though I do love seeing your lives), and no English. Think about how difficult it would be for you to live at you house while you're in college, then multiply it by ten because you can't understand not only the language but also the culture.

Yeah, that's me, always paranoid about something, aha. In my "Education and Culture" class, I have a professor that is from the Falani tribe. For a taste of African informal education before the colonization period, we began with geography. At about or 9 years of age, each child would go in front of the entire community in pairs to sing a song, which went like this:

Child 1: "Do you know?"
Child 2: "Yes, I know."
Child 1: "Where do you know?"
Child 2: "Gebe."

The song would continue as long as neither child hesitated in their answer. The best of the best were those children who were able to name the most places that surrounded their village. Thus, this was their geography lesson.

So far, my most difficult task is speaking. I knew it would be hard, but this really is trying because everyone speaks both French and Wolof, and most speak a little English too. When I go into a store, people automatically greet me in French, even though to the other native customers they speak in Wolof. This would be fine, except that if I spoke in Wolof to them, then I would be considered more of an equal. But because my Wolof is so small right now, I cannot build these relationships yet. Also, if I am having a difficult time explaining something in French, then some of my family members will just start asking me in English. It's a little frustrating because I would like to struggle in my French in order to learn more. I hope that this gets better when I begin my lessons this coming week. I'm sure it will.

The most trying cultural change is how children are reared. From day one, i have witnessed too many beatings and a lot of screaming. I'm not really sure what's going on half of the time with the children. But, I don't really know if there is a lot of preventative discipline rather than just aftermath discipline. Everyone here is very loud, more so than my actual family. It's a little unnerving, and hard to deal with sometimes. I'm not meaning to complain, simply trying to describe the atmosphere of the place. Anyways, I'm finding it the most difficult to sit and watch others disciplining their children in a way than my own. It's the true dilemma of the outsider. Anthropology skills, here we go...

Sunday I woke up to, what I'm pretty sure, is a Catholic church service. It's odd because I recognize the tunes though the words are probably wolof. I can't see the church but I can definitely hear it. The oddest thing about this is that usually it's not a christian church but a Muslim intercom that wakes me up every morning at 5:30 AM. Last night Yacine, who usually wears capri pants Adidas flip flops, and something along the lines of a Che Guevara shirt with a hood, had put on her hijab. She was praying. This morning the Christian music does not phase this household. Papi Joe still came to knock on my door and pester me until i gave in to him, giving him a fruit sucker, which he cleverly hid like any child of 3. I once again was not able to communicate with the maid Sanaba, who I think only speaks Wolof (or just refuses to understand my jumbled French). I have some outer clothes to wash but I can't seem to figure out when laundry day is or who to give them to since I am not allowed to do it myself. I only wash my undergarments because that is personal.

This life is different, but I'm simply learning how to conduct myself around other people (but finding it to be not so simple). Next thing to figure out: how to wash my coffee cup that I've used too many times already…

A Bientôt!