#3 Why I love Senegal

Today is a perfect example of why I absolutely love Senegal (not including early this morning, which consisted of a mosquito safari from 3-4am).

You might think you could get used to all the strange cultural differences and random, unexplained events in Dakar, but you’re mostly wrong. During our class break, I went to my usual fruit stand to get some bananas and chat with Alpha a bit. As I bought my fruit, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask him if he knew where I could get a mosquito net. Well, of course I should have known he’d have one right behind the crate of pineapples, why not? He pulled it out and gave it to me, free of charge (I tried to pay). I walked away confused and unable to figure out why he would try to overcharge me 40 cents one day and give me a free grapefruit when I corrected him and a free mosquito net the next, when I only spent 40 cents. I laughed the whole way back as I compared the American reward system of customer loyalty vs. the Senegalese way.

Another reason why I love Senegal is the fact that everything is within walking distance. Today for example, I walked an hour to school, 5 minutes from there to my fruit stand, 10 minutes from there to the Tigo shop (needed some TP), 20 minutes from there to UCAD (where I bought my omelet sandwich), 10 minutes back to WARC, and finally another hour home. All the while I’m either surrounded by palm trees or the ocean, but let’s be honest, there’s also unlimited piles of garbage and sand. Gotta take the good with the bad.

Speaking of that omelet sandwich, another fine example of my love of this country (more than the fact that it’s delicious). When one of the two women who runs the little stand saw me, her face lit up, she dropped what she was doing and came over to hold my hand and proceeded to ask how I was and, in a worrying voice, if the sun was what was giving me all those boutons (acne). I laughed, no longer put out by this kind of statement, and reassured her that it was pretty normal and that I was fine. Relieved, she patted me on the pack and asked if I was married yet. Nope, not quite ready, I told her. A gentleman nearby eating his sandwich politely offered his hand, and once again, a proposal before noon and it doesn’t even faze me. He told me he’d wait when I said I was too busy.

Afterward, I took my three beignets wrapped in their usual newspaper and headed back to WARC. Ba suba! I yelled cheerily as I left, evoking giggles from all surrounding. They love it when Toubabs (in general, white/non-Senegalese people) speak Wolof.

I love these small relationships with everyone I come into contact with on a regular basis. I look forward to the simplest things, like going to buy fruit or lunch and leaving with a smile that stays with me the whole day.

I’ve also started talking more to one of the women who work at the small “restaurant” at WARC, Anne-Marie. I was complaining how hard the last Wolof class was and half-jokingly made a deal with her that if she taught me Wolof, I’d teach her English. She walked right up to me to hold out her hand to shake on it, and I gladly returned the shake, though not really knowing if it was serious or not.

The next day, an hour and 40 minutes flew by as we sat at a table at WARC (after she had gotten off work and my class had ended) and I still didn’t want to leave (needed to though, if I wanted to get back before dark). It had forgotten my Wolof notebook, but it worked out perfectly in that I speak so much French trying to teach her English that it’s like we’re both getting lessons at the same time. It was so much fun, she caught on to everything so fast and with each new expression I taught her, we’d go off on some cultural tangent and talk for a while before going back to the material. She wants to learn English because she wants to work in a “real” restaurant one day, because most of them require that you speak English. When this happens, she’s going to try to go back to school. She had to drop out early when she was younger because she got so sick that she had to go to The Gambia for treatment and medicine and was there for a year and half. I feel good that I can help her in some way achieving her goals, and in return, I’ll speak better French. But more than anything, I can tell she’s going to become a great friend. She’s already offered to come with me to get some Senegalese clothing made (if you don’t have a Senegalese person go with you you get really ripped off I guess). I'm so excited!

And now, Yves is curled up in my lap, (j’ai froid, he says- I’m cold), I’m typing with one hand, and Louis-Albert is watching the Simpsons in French. I wouldn’t trade these moments for anything.