Benn baaraam mënul yëkëti doj: One finger alone cannot lift the stone

Ibrahima, Fatou, and Diaraye.

 
This post will mark the end of the life histories of a handful of Social Mobilization Agents (SMA) in rural Senegal. The first two posts can be read here and here, and for more background you can read my research proposal.

Cherif, my interpreter, and I set out bright and early toward Kaolack, the capital of the Kaolack region several hours from Dakar. After finally finding a 7-place and taking off, the wind blowing in through the windows slowly became hotter and hotter as we ventured the into the interior of the country and the sun rose. Finally we arrived in Kaolack. Originally, we had planned to do one interview the first day, and two interviews the following day. But, because of our late arrival and the difficulties of finding public transport to go out to the villages, we decided to do all three interviews the following day. Kaolack is so hot during the day that its hard to do anything but lay around. 

The next morning we took off early to head to Ibrahima's house in Gandiaye village in the Kaolack region of Senegal. The other two mobilizers I would interview that day, Fatou and Diaraye, would meet us at Ibrahima's house.

The gate to Ibrahima's compound. If you look closely at the plaque you can see his name and family name.

 

I was warned by my interpreter Cherif before the interview even started that Ibrahima Sankhare was a retired teacher, and really "knew how to talk". I reminded Cherif to try to keep him on track when answering the questions, but the interview lasted more nearly four hours. My longest to date and hopefully my longest ever. 

Ibrahima is from Gandiaye village but he spent his childhood in Suma Mousa, both found in the region of Kaolack. He comes from a massive family and was his fathers 20^th child. His father had six different women, some of which he had divorced but many of which he was married to simultaneously as Senegal is a polyamorous country.

When I asked Ibrahima how many siblings he had total, it took him quite some time to count. Finally, he responded with 36, but he wasn't too sure of himself. As a young boy, he cultivated land for his parents and looked after their cows, sheep, and goats. Finally, when he was 15 years old he was able to start primary school. Normally, a student of his age would have only went to school to get the Primary Certificate and end there because the maximum age for the Secondary School Entrance Exam was 15 but because of a fire that burned all of the schools documents, Ibrahima was able to have a new birth certificate made that made him appear younger than he actually was. He then went on to finish college and become a teacher. He didn't meet his wife, who was divorced with two children, until he was 32 years old and had been teaching. They went on to have seven children together.

As I looked deeper into Ibrahima’s motivation for his work as a Social Mobilization Agent, he revealed to me a traumatizing story of his childhood. He had been away at a wrestling match in the village and upon returning home he found one of his sisters, the one whom he shared a bed with. “I jumped over the wall at the back of the house and stepped on her [sister] arm as she was lying there. They had done the tradition on her and she was bleeding…I went into the room to get my flashlight and turned it on and saw that the blood was gushing then I shouted…and said they killed her.” They did not kill her, but his sister has suffered since that night. She has been pregnant more than 10 times losing all but one child. The doctor attributes this to the way that they had performed the tradition. After this, he explained that one of his Aunts had similar problems due to the tradition as well. As he told these two stories, I saw the pain in his eyes as he recounted how he had stumbled upon his wounded sister. He admitted that he was still emotional when discussing the topic, but it was clear that these events where large motivators in his work.

After he learned about Tostan through the publicity of the Malikunda declaration, Ibrahima was eager to become part of the program. He said, “Yes, it really motivated me, so I said to Demba Diawara I am going to work with you, even if don't give me a penny, and I worked with Demba Diawara and his people for three year without receiving a dime. During three years.” Finally, after the classes had ceased in his village he was asked to become a SMA in 2001.

When Ibrahima shares his stories in the field as a SMA it becomes particularly effective because the subject is still taboo in many places. The experiences his Aunt and his sister have had are not unique. Ibrahima brought to life the first time he had share this story with others in a small village in Kaolack. “There was a woman who…put her arms on her head and fell down crying. She said ‘so this is why I don't have children’…When she did that, then people started thinking more.”

On being a Social Mobilization Agent, he said: “It's a personal commitment that you take in heart and spirit, you said I want to be a social mobilization agent; I want to work in this specific domain because it in line with what I believe and wanted to do in my life, so the judgment is obvious.” 

To me it seemed that this work was something that he wanted to do for pretty much his entire life.

When I asked him how the work of a Social Mobilization Agent made him feel he replied by saying, “I am happy first and then I have a feeling of satisfaction. I started fighting these situations when I was a little boy. I hated them and was afraid of them, so when I see an NGO or other people who come and say let's go together and fight those issues, I am happy.”

Finally, after about four hours, we made it through all of the questions. Ibrahima was so thrilled to have been able to share his experiences with me, he had even told me that he wished he could keep talking to me all the way into the evening. When we ended the interview, it was time for lunch.

As tradition, we all formed a circle around this plate of Yassa
Ginaar (Yassa (onion sause with rice) and chicken.

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A Peul from the Fouta region of Senegal, Diaraye Bâ’s self-assurance was palpable. She is presently living in Kabakoto, in the region of Kaolack, but was borne in Medina Yoro Foula, in the region of Kolda. She was raised in a big household which included her two parents, two younger brothers, two younger sisters, and two older sisters. Although she was gifted and excelled in school, her mother made her stop schooling around the age of 12 after she had received her Primary School Certificate. Her mother was very worried about Diaraye’s carefree nature and thought she needed to get married so that she would not bring shame to the family.

Diaraye was the first to admit that she was not like typical young girls. Interrupting herself with small bursts of laughter, she recounted to me the way in which she used to bring her grandmother lunch. “You see the mango trees in Yoro Foula, when I would bring lunch to my grandmother I wouldn't step on the ground. I would be swinging from one mango tree to another…I would spend the whole day in the bush bare footed.”

Diaraye posing for the photo after her interview

She also learned from a young age that women needed to defend themselves and make something of themselves. She was constantly looking up to women who were busy with their own activities and told herself that she just needed to imitate what they did. After she stopped formal schooling, her father, who was an intellectual, found her several jobs such as working with health vaccination projects and the government census.

It was in Medina Yoro Foula that Diaraye got married and had her first child. When she moved to Kabakoto after getting married, her husband had encouraged her to continue her education and take part in local literacy classes. She then went on to receive her diploma and went on to be a facilitator for Village Management and Organization Project. It was also at this time that she decided she would set a good example for other women by joining every single association that was functioning in her community.

From here, Diaraye continued to excel. She was a “rural information agent” and soon the vice president of vice president of CLCOP, Local organization of big producers with 400 local economic interest groups. By this time, she had had another five children bringing the total to six. Eventually, Tostan heard about Diaraye and one of the regional coordinators came to pay her a visit before the Tostan classes began to see if she might be interested in facilitating or being involved.

After they started, the classes weren’t doing well because of attendance. So Baba, the Tostan coordinator who originally approached Diaraye, told her that she should go and try to motivate them. After this, she explains, “When I was not working I would come to the classes. I observed that two or three days and I started getting less engaged with the other job.” She became less and less interested with her job and eventually ““My eyes were opened then, I attended the classes for two months and my eyes got open like never before.” Diaraye left her job to become a Social Mobilization Agent with Tostan.

To her, the purpose of being a Social Mobilization agents was:
"For people to be healthy and live in peace. Because if people are not healthy there can be no peace. There will be no economic growth either"

I also asked her how it felt to work as a mobilizer. she replied with: "Dafa neex" - which literally translates to "it feels good" but is stated in a manner that puts emphasis on the verb. In this case, the verb is ‘neex’ meaning ‘to feel good’. Another question I always ask to the mobilizers is about them working in groups, why do they do it? "Benn baaraam mënul yëkëti doj.
" is what she said to me. This is an old Wolof proverb which loosely translates to "One finger alone cannot lift the stone."

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Granddaughter of a traditional cutter, Fatou Bâ was being primped and primed to become one herself, and she says she would have went on to do just that had she not taken part in Tostan’s CEP classes. Born and raised in a small community in Kaffrine region called Nguigui, Fatou’s childhood was cut short after she went through the tradition at the age of eight and married at 14.

Fatou in her traditional boubou leaning against Ibrahima's house after the interview.

As a child, Fatou was very close with her grandmother who taught her about life and how to behave with people, especially your husband and his family. She didn’t know her husband before her marriage as her parents and the parents of the suitor arranged it. After the suitor sent kola nuts to the family signifying he wanted to marry her, they accepted. At this point he wanted to visit Fatou, the purpose being to judge if she would make a good wife or not. The parents agreed under the condition that he would bring a goat to honor their daughter.

After the marriage, they went to live in a community called Missirah in Tambakounda where she had two children. After a rough patch where the family lost all of their farmland and animals, they moved to AblayFanta. Here, Fatou had another seven children, losing one twin which would have made her total ten. Of the nine living children, she has three girls, all of whom when through the tradition at five or seven years old.

She began moving between two villages to sell milk and sugar which was profitable and allowed her to provide for her family. She even trained and helped other women to get into the business as well. Soon, she was offered a loan to buy and breed sheep. This was especially lucrative around Tabaski*.

In 2004, Tostan came to her community and began their CEP. Both her and one of her sons decided to attend. As a Peul, Fatou learned to speak Wolof after she had married and moved with her husband. In the class she struggled with the literacy portion but was always able to answer questions orally. The facilitator counted on her to liven up the class; one of her fondest memories was singing and dancing during the classes. Although her husband didn't attend these classes, she would go home every evening and recount to him everything she had learned. While all of the classes and modules of the CEP were helpful, Fatou admitted that Module 7, the one that discusses FMC had the most impact on her and is the reason why she is not a cutter today. Before the classes were finished, Tostan asked Fatou to be part of the Kaolack SMA Team. She would attend classes but also go into the field with the team to do sensitizations (sort of like a workshop) in villages in the region, something she has been doing for over 10 years now.

What is “It's discussing to educate, when you hear social mobilization it's about educating people, telling they things they didn't know about, making you hear things that you had never heard of. And all that by discussing until we find an agreement without fighting.” 

Although these topics are not discussed until the end of the sensitization, as they are very taboo and difficult to talk about, the topics of Female Genital Cutting (FGC) and Child Marriage are of the utmost importance in their work. These are century long traditions that are being abandoned from grassroots educational initiatives such as the social mobilization teams thanks to Tostan. But this work is not easy - you cant just ask people to stop doing something they have been doing for centuries, but in Fatou's own words she explained to me that,  “I said things are changing and when things are changing you have to adapt. You cannot wait until it's too late” By this she means that things change - because they are now aware and educated of the complications and problems that come along with these two specific harmful practices.

Ibrahima with his family

These three mobilizers work together on a team comprised of five SMA in total. They each have their own specific function as a team member.

Now that all of my interviews are completed, soon I will be writing and sharing a short post about my findings and analysis! First I need to finish my these and graduate. Then I will have time to put together a post about my last month/weeks in Senegal (for now - inshallah) and the conclusion to my research.

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Wolof Proverb:

“Lu kenn mën, ñaar a ko ko dàq"

Literal Meaning: "Many hands make light work"
Actual Meaning: "What one person can do two can do better"

Mangiy ci loxo yàlla!

Mangiy ci loxo yàlla

A phrase I mentioned in my last post.

Meaning, "I am in God's hand"

Before updating everyone on my the unexpected reality of my current state, I'd like to delve into the last couple weeks of settling into Dakar, my host family and my classes. 

All of the Francophone African countries I will be able to work in once I improve my French a bit more!
This is really motivating for me - French opens a whole new world of possibilities.

La grande mosquée ver le cornish à Dakar

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A couple of weeks ago, I took a day and a half break from the bustling city of Dakar to head south along la petite cote (the little coast). I ended up in a small coastal village called Yene Gueje. Gueje is beach in Wolof. It was just a short stay here but somewhere I will hopefully be going back to often. 

If you look along the southern coast, you will find Rusfique and much further down Toubab Dialao
Yene is so small its not even on the map but it's nearly exactly half way between the two along the straight road.

For the first time I was hearing "Toubab! Toubab!" around every corner. I knew this term, as it serves as the term for "foreigner" in Senegal. One interesting thing I've found in my travels throughout Afirca is that nearly every country/region notoriously has a term for foreigners... East Africa is muzungo, Nigeria is oyibo or nsara, sometimes its just the simple white man or if you're lucky white man woman, Ghananias will call us oburoni and in Francophone Cameroon I heard la blanche. One thing I want you all to realize is this list is far from exhausted. But this term I was constantly hearing, toubab, was a token of where I had traveled to, outside of the city. The time in Yene Gueje was even more proof of why it was so imperative that I learn Wolof as many people I encountered only spoke Wolof leaving me unable to communicate. In my late afternoon search for Cafe Touba (discussed later in the post), I was directed to one family's compound. I entered with the traditional "salaam alaykoum" greeting and was given a place to sit as I waited for the coffee, they needed to brew it but insisted I waited for it. This gave me time to chat with the family and get a better idea of Yene Gueje. I was invited back for dinner but due to a wicket rainstorm I was confined to the hostile until the morning.

Dakar is crawling with toubabs so it was a nice change of pace to step outside of the capital and see Senegal through a different lens.

The path to the beach just steps from the hostel

In the distance you can see a building, the hostel was right next to it.

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After living in small town after small city after small town, the one thing I love about Dakar is there is always something to do. We have "half days" on Wednesday so my friend Issa and I took a trip down to the Plateau (centre ville) for a small art show. I had no expectations going in - but it was nice to just do something new and fun. Here are just two small pieces of the show:

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"Mermoz - 2ème Porte - en face du caz et proche de la mosquee" - these are the directions I give people, usually taxi drivers or friends, who are trying to locate where I live. Mermoz is the quartier, or neighborhood, in Dakar where I live -but its so big you have to narrow it down which is why I say 2ème porte, translating to "second door" or "second entrance". I can always get out of the cab here but if I dont feel like walking I continue to describe exactly where it is I life - across from the 'caz' which is this strange fenced in field with a random cement thing in the middle. And in case they dont know that land marker, I tell them the mosque, because every one knows the mosque.

My terrace - the 'roof' of my house and right near my bedroom

2ème port, Mermoz, my new home.

For the first couple of weeks I would spend my evenings taking short walks in different directions around my quartier trying to get my barrings down and learn some short cuts. I found the closest cafe touba** provider, someone who sells vegetables, another woman just a few houses down who makes the most delicious variety of juices, bottling them in different sizes to buy from 25cfa to 1,000cfa (5 cents to 2$). I've become familiar with neighbors and greet them everyday when I pass. I have had many attaaya* lessons offered and will likely take them up on the offer. I've also discovered a short cut directly to the VPN, another major street I live by which now saves me over 30min of walking. I take the kar rapids every day, I've been learning the varies routes of the tatas and have taken more ndiaga ndiayes around the city. I'm feeling improvement with my Wolof as I've learned about "contractions" which is how nearly everyone speaks. I always start my conversations in Wolof and switch to French when I cant go any further. The teranga*** I've heard so much about has become palpable.

*Cafe Touba = a spiced coffee drink flavored with grains of selim (a Guinea pepper which is made from the dried fruit of Xylopia aethiopica and known as djar in Wolof) and sometimes cloves. The addition of djar is the most important factor differentiating this coffee from regular/plain coffee. This imported spice and others are mixed and roasted with coffee beans, then ground into powder. It's then prepared like drip coffee and served throughout the day at nearly every corner shop and by young men carrying a large container of it and walking on the streets. Usually mixed with lots of sugar and the only coffee I drink without milk! Its delightful!!

**Attaaya = in my opinion, this is the cornerstone of Senegalese culture and the essence of terange. People can and do simply, and with great pleasure, pass the entire day with their friends and family doing nothing but drinking attaaya and spending time together. Traditionally, there are three servings: The first, is a little bitter and quite strong, the second is sweeter and mint is added while the third is very sweet but isnt not very strong because the same green tea leaves are used to prepare all three servings. This is a guaranteed way to bring people together and just enjoy the company of one another. In the US, we always have to be "doing something" - going out to a bar, or drinking or getting ready to go out and do something. Here in Senegal, on the contrary, the slow preparation and serving of attaya is enough as it is an art for of its own. I hope to write more about this process in the future once I become a master attaaya maker.

***Terange = literally means hospitality in Wolof. Here, hospitality is more than an art and culture - it's a way of life. If you pass by someone's house and they are preparing to eat, you know you will be invited in. Teranga is a beautiful combination of acceptance, friendship, tolerance and tradition.

Making ataaya on the beach in Yoff

Yoff beach as a storm rolls in

Jorr showing off her card tricks.

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Last week Thursday my host sister Bijeux and her son Samba went back to Italy where they have been living and working for years. It was Samba's vacation and they were back for about 2 1/2 months. As a little token of of my appreciation for them and as a small send off gift, toggaloon naa sama waakër ndekki bu amerik (I cooked my family an 'American breakfast') comprised of French toast with honey and scrambled eggs with veggies and spiced sausage. They loved it (or at least thats what they said).

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I'm already knocking off items from my bucket list. Went to see Cheikh Lo in celebration of his 60th birthday with a couple of friends on Saturday night! Check out this interesting interview with him here. (FYI it's in French but you can google translate it if you want)

Really blurry, but this is what an iPhone 4 gets you.

This is his new hit, Degg Gui LIVE!:

Here is the official music video:

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Senegal, where greetings and salutations last longer 

and are more important than the actual conversation.

A place where you ask how someone's family is even if you don't know them.

 In just about 5 weeks, I settled in wonderfully without hardly any road blocks.

My fondness for Senegal and Dakar came quickly,

almost as swiftly as I left. 

 

This 'honeymoon' and seemingly love-struck state I was in ended within seconds as I was faced with the reality of my health. I've been suffering from chronic back pain since the New Year, with weeks/days of relief but the pain always came back. The last three weeks in Senegal have been nearly impossible to enjoy as every movement hurt and it was a struggle just to get up in the morning. After receiving the results of my MRI, I was medically evacuated to Paris and I'm currently at the American Hospital of Paris. But fear not, I am in high spirits, thanks to family and friends who have been beyond supportive and I have a wonderful team of doctors (neurologists, internists, neurosurgeons, rheumatologists, infectious disease specialists, etc) who are getting to the bottom of it! Additionally, on the bright side, I'm in Paris (never been here before!), I'm speaking French with all the nurses and listening to French news all day long. The food is great and everyone is really sweet. Send some positive vibes my way, hoping this passes quickly.

Was moved to first class for my flights, sat in the VIP lounge and had myself a
nice cheese platter with champagne before landing in Paris.

Dinaa dellu Senegal tout suite, inshallah

I am going back to Senegal right away, God willing

Njangu wolof, francais, cosaan ak koor.

Njangu wolof, francais, cosaan ak koor 

My studies of wolof, french, tradition/customs and Ramadan.

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This is my first blog post as a Boren Fellow (more about my plan abroad) and my first blog post as part of my ‘practicum phase’ for my masters program at SIT Graduate Institute.

The on-campus phase of my graduate program came and went as if it was “one long night”..just as one of our professors had warned us it would be during orientation back in August. I felt as if as soon as my boxes were unpacked, my walls decorated and I was moved into the “Sunflower House”, I had to begin repacking my things into boxes and mentally prepare myself to spend exorbitant amounts of money to ship my life to my sister’s house for storage (thank you, Hanna!). Similar to adjusting to cold bucket showers, I’ve also gotten used to letting go of unnecessary material belongings.

But this is the life of a vagabond.
Or perhaps I’m transitioning to a “development” professional?
Either way, this is the life I have chosen.
This is the life I want.

And to be honest, I secretly enjoy both of these things...the cold bucket showers and lack of material possessions (except my books, I cant part with those).

The weeks after leaving Brattleboro and SIT were spent in Wisconsin visiting family and in New England with friends from school. Soon it was time for the Convocation and Orientation for the Boren Fellowship in DC. To say the least, this was an interesting three-day experience and I’m not really sure what I was expecting to get. It was a mix of government propaganda, basic study abroad orientation, advice on how to not become a spy against the US government and a dash of “big brother is watching you” rhetoric. 

Me and Carl (friend from SIT) at the Boren Orientation. He's going to Brazil!

In all honesty, I didn’t learn anything from this experience and was overall disappointed by the entire seminar. I felt the money could have been better spent elsewhere. However, I do understand that these fellows (graduate/doctoral students) and scholars (undergraduate students) have varying levels of experiences and expectations and I’m sure NSEP and Boren did the best that they could. One conclusion I came to which I constantly remind myself of even now as I am in Florida is this: for some, this is a semester study abroad/exchange program and even the first time out of the US…but for others, this is a professional development opportunity that will likely launch them into their career and even published research. On a personal note, I’ve become more aware of my need to be accepting of this difference and the variety of people participating in the program.

For once in my life, I am "the old person". 

And I am learning a lot.

Everyone has scooters here - its really exciting and I am jealous.

African Flagship Language Initiative at University Florida-Gainesville

My first impressions of Gainesville and UF: hot; sticky; lots of alcohol; party town; flat; rape culture (may do another post about this soon); hot; generally privileged population (UF); massive school. After a couple of weeks, the area really started to grow on me, but then again maybe I just like the way a tan looks on me. I’m subletting from a bunch of fraternity guys and living with four other students who are all part of the AFLI program (two going to Tanzania for Swahili and two going to Mozambique for Portuguese). The neighborhood is great; the apartment is the most bougie place I’ve ever lived and its walking distance to my classes and some cafes for study time!

Class Photo: (L to R) Jacky, Brenda, Olivia, Kayla, Me and Oumar.

I came to Gainesville for a seven-week intensive language study of Advanced French and Survival Wolof. I am in this class with four other women of which I am the oldest: two fellows and three scholars. Of the seven weeks program – the first and last week will be spent on Wolof and the middle five are French. After the first week of Wolof, I was able to introduce myself, my friends and members of my family while giving a very little background of where I come from and what I do. I can negotiate a taxi price (très importante!) and go through basic salutations. Salutations are so important in Senegal, you must always be sure to greet everyone! Wolof is the most common language in Senegal while French, the language of the colonizer, is used more in formal settings (ie: school, business, government).

Without any delay, we dove right into Senegalese culture, politics and history by picking up our first novel, “Une Si Longue Lettre” (So Long a Letter) by Mariama Ba – this book is sometimes referred to as the feminist manifesto of Senegal and was written in the post independence era. It depicts several strong female characters while giving an honest critique of polygamy, a practice that is still very common in Senegal today. A heart-string pulling fiction, I recommend this book to anyone interested in stories of love, friendship, independence and liberation through the eyes of Senegalese women. They have a translated version!

Our class is about to finish our second book, “La Greve des Battu” (The Beggars Strike) by Aminata Sow Fall and will begin our last book, “Le Ventre de l'Atlantique” (The Belly of the Atlantic) by Fatou Diome, next week. 

Several months ago I found an article (totally worth reading!) and a video (totally worth watching!) showing Fatou Diome as she eloquently and fearlessly detailed the "migrant crisis" in Europe (mostly in the Atlantic and Mediterranean). Explaining the hypocritical stance France has taken towards its immigrants, she states, “If they were Whites, the whole Earth would be shaking now. Instead, it’s Blacks and Arabs who are dying and their lives are cheaper.” Low and behold, during the first week of classes I not only find out that we will be reading her book on migration/immigration but also that my instructor, Oumar Ba, was the author of the article I read months ago!! 

In the last couple of years I’ve began to realize how often we (as Westerners, those from “developed countries”) read about people and situations through the lens of people just like us. What do I mean by this? I mean that our history books in school, talking about the Trail of Tears and Jim Crow Era are written by white people (usually males) which gives an extremely limited and often distorted viewpoint. When reading, we read books written by Americans and Europeans (usually men): the knowledge keepers, the knowledge creators and the knowledge protectors (For more on this – read Michel Foucault’s Power/Knowledge). For example, when I tried to find books and articles online about Senegal, the most popular results were those written by white men and women who in essence – went to Senegal – collected information – came back to their respective countries – and wrote a book which defined what Senegal is and who Senegalese people are. That is not ok. To be clear, I am not saying this knowledge doesn’t have value (it does!) – but it’s important to realize its limitations and to fill those gaps with the words of the actual people you are reading about.

For this reason and many more, I was immediately thrilled to have Oumar as our instructor for the summer. Not only was he Senegalese and gave us three books written by Senegalese authors, but they were written by Senegalese women! An even more marginalized and unheard group. Throughout our course thus far, we have watched movies by Ousman Sembene (the father of African Cinema), learned about people like Annette Mbaye d'Erneville (the first Senegalese with a degree in Journalism), the influential political M23 movement, including Y'en A Marre! (We're fed up!) and Touche Pas Ma Constitution! (Dont touch my constitution!) as well as watched countless Senegalese and/or West African music videos everyday giving us a taste of the nightlife and traditional music before we go.

One story that stood out to me was the story of “The Women of Nder”. A tragic and powerful story which took place in 1819 in Nder, a village in the North of Senegal. This village, as like many others during this time, had a history of resisting and falling victim to the Moore warriors and slave trade. While the men of Nder were off fighting the Moores one day, a woman saw another group of the Moore warriors crossing the river on their way to Nder. They knew what awaited them, the same fate of their mothers and grandmothers before them, a life of enslavement and shame. Instead of giving up – they sent the elders and children to hid in a nearby fields and armed themselves with everything they could find to fight off the warriors! They won the first attack, but they knew a second was coming and that it would be too much for them to handle. The women of the village decided they would rather take death and honor than slavery. Collectively, the women burned themselves in a massive fire before the Moores arrived to take them captive.

This story and so many others we have read/watched highlight the long-standing Senegalese tradition of resistance, preservation and dignity.

The best part about all of this learning = ALL of it is done in French!!

Reading our book French book while waiting for our drinks and food to come.

We also have conversation partners we meet with three nights a week who also double as our "host family" for two weekends throughout the program. Our get together was on my birthday (June 27th) and because it was during the holy month of Ramadan (June 18 - July 16), we decided to wait until Baye (our conversation partner) was ready to break fast for the day. Traditionally in Senegal, fast is broken everyday with Ndoogu, a special celebration and meal that is usually comprised of fried dough of some sort, dates and other small snacks along side of bissap (hibiscus juice), tea and/or coffee, followed by evening prayers and then a larger meal.

Our weekend "host family" with Baye - Celebrated with an Ndoogu!

Read this super short and concise article about Ramadan to get a little more information.

This year for Ramadan, I decided to fast once a week. Starting on a Thursday June 18th, I allowed myself water during the day but the following two weeks I had no water (and obviously no food). This last week I missed the day of fasting because we had free food for orientation (I couldn't miss that) so I shall make it up next week, the last week, by doing two. Friday is Eid al-Fitr which marks the end of Ramadan and the breaking of fast. While I'm in Senegal next year, I will more than likely fast for the entire month as the majority of the country (95% of the population is Muslim) will be fasting.

Center for African Studies at UF and Potential of a PhD

After a couple of weeks here at the University of Florida-Gainesville, it finally dawned on me why Boren sent all of us here to learn these languages. The Center for African Studies, the department that hosts the AFLI Program I am studying with, is one of the largest (if not thee largest) African research institutions in the US! The Center has over 100-affiliated teaching and research faculty in several disciplines (e.g.: languages, humanities, agriculture, business, engineering, law and more). They produce the African Studies Quarterly and have tons of opportunities for Masters/Doctoral degrees, funding and research/professional development opportunities. I’ve been thinking about a PhD sometime in the future, but didn’t know where to start looking since I had always went to smaller schools. Like they say, everything happens for a reason so I’ve decided to make some connections here and look more into the programs they offer for the future.

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I also had my 26th birthday in Gainesville!! My best friend Sarah come up from Southern Florida to visit, I had some friends at my house for drinks and hooka then took off to the club for some dancing!

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I leave for Senegal in 27 days.

I plan to stay for 18 months.

I’ve been working on a country profile for Senegal; hope to have that done soon.

I’ve also been working on a bucket list of things I want to do in Senegal, just like that one for Cameroon. 

"We know of course there's really no such thing as the 'voiceless'. There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard."
- Arundhati Roy

Trans West Africa: Senegal, Gambia and Mali

Finally, a year later, I've decided to wrap up the final months of my adventure in Africa.

Here are my excuses, please forgive me: While in West Africa the internet was much much more scarce than in East Africa, the days spent traveling from place to place were much longer (10-14 hours drive days 1-3x/week). On top of all that I had tons of homework: write three 5-page papers for my West African Francophone Culture class; read 6 Francophone stories then a final 5 page essay for French 5. Upon returning home I started my last semester of my undergraduate studies and things have been crazy since then. Procrastination is not a friend of mine. But like my Dad says, "Better late than never!"

Senegal

Senegal was one of my favorite places. I will never ever forget my time in Yoff (Dakar).

View of Yoff from a friend, Gora Diagne's rooftop.

A friend of mine, Scarlet, had studied in Dakar a few months before I arrived. She hooked me up with two contacts while I was there. One, Abdul Aziz had his own hotel and picked me up from the airport and I stayed at his place for the remainder of my time. Besides wanting to marry me and not understanding the fact that I had a boyfriend whom I love very much, he was a wonderful friend/guide. If it weren't' for him, I'm not sure how I would have gotten around. My French was terrible, and not many people spoke English.

Lac Rose- Known for and named after its pink color caused by the algae. Lac Rose is a natural phenomena north-east of Dakar. The lake also has a very high salt content which contributes to the  small salt exporting industry in the area.

Salt Fishing!

Île de Gorée- Small island off the coast of Dakar, inhabited but also a major attraction because of it's slave port/slave trade history.

View from the highest point.

Alleys of Gorée

Île de N'gor- A beautiful tiny island paradise, only 10min boat ride and 4$ away! 

Written on the walls- "If money grew on trees, women would be monkeys."

African Renaissance Monument- Completed in 2010 and now the worlds largest statue, it is said to be a positive representation of the African people. A family that is holding together strongly, emerging from a mountain top breaking their chains of slavery and becoming free. That being said, every Senegalese I spoke with did not agree with the statue and were actually very against it. Senegal is 95% Muslim, and Islam does not approve of statues (according to my those I spoke with in Senegal and research). Also, nearly 40% of the population lives on less than $1.25 a day and the statue cost a whopping 27million dollars!! They have a new president now a days...

My friend Aziz also took me to his brothers wedding while I was in town - that was fun! Everyone was so friendly and generous in Senegal.

Djibi was the other friend she gave me contact information on. Djibi is a griot drummer and took me out a couple nights on the town. He spoke fluent Wolof and broken French with a West African accent. I speak fluent English with very broken limited French with a shitty Spanish/American accent - needless to say communication was very difficult.

Ndep

In short, a Ndep is an exorcism. But it is much much more than that...it's a traditional ceremony which is held 2 times a day for 5-7 days. It is usually performed on young women who, I was told are most susceptible to being possessed by a wrab. A wrab is a misguided spirit and Yoff Village (where I stayed) was full of these spirits. Friends told me that the spirits were more active and more dangerous during the day time, and that they often leech onto girl's/women's long hair and seep into their body that way. Read about my full experience HERE.

Sabar

On our way to the Ndep, we stopped at a Sabar. Similar to a small dance party on the sandy alley way, several women were dressed up to celebrate and dance as they shook their bodies to the beat of the Griot Drummers. Those women were vibrant with energy! Sabars are also very hush-hush and frowned upon. The women dance provocatively and that sort of behavior is frowned upon in Islam.

My fondest memories of Senegal will be:

Tea with Issa Ndiaye

Eating meals together - Sadly I didn't snap a photo, but for every meal I ate with a family, we would all use our right hands (not left hand because is considered dirty) to dig into one large bowl full of a variation of grain and some sort of local fish. It was beautiful... even when the 5 year old would cough/sneeze all over her hands and the food and we all just kept eating like nothing happened.

The kind, generous and welcoming Senegalese - Everyone was amazing and so friendly. Especially with trying to speak French and their local language, Wolof. I would always get a 'mini lesson' in the middle of the street.

Les pâtisseries - BEST. PASTRIES. AND. BREAD. EVER. 

Greeting: As-salamu alaykum - Peace be upon you

Response: Alaykum Salamu - Peace to you also (not exact but pretty much)

Before I knew it, it was time for me to meet with my group that I would be traveling with for the next 70 days.

 

The first night I met with my group, Dulcie, Bex and I went to see Youssou N'Dour perform at his very own night club in Dakar!! We showed up around 11:30pm, but he didnt take the stage until nearly 2AM!! We had to be up, packed, and ready to go on the bus at 5:30AM. We stayed for over an hour, but left much before his set was over. It was incredible. Best vibes I have ever felt at a show...the crowd, his people, loved him! I didn't bring a camera, but here are some videos. 

This is the song that made him famous...

 

This is one of my favorites...

Saint Louie- An old colonial French city located at the mouth of the Senegal River. Very relaxed atmosphere, beautiful buildings, and lots of modern art.

 

Spent 2 nights in Palmarin.

Into the Gambia* then back to Senegal.

Niokolo-Koba National Park

The Gambia 

*Because of the location of The Gambia (completely surrounded by a pac-man shaped Senegal) we drove out of Senegal into the Gambia, and then back through Senegal on the way to Mali.

Known as "The Smiling Coast" and also a popular destination for rich sugar mamas to find a sweet young African man.

 

Kiang West National Park on a pirogue in the mangroves.

Stayed in Tandaba and Basse Santu-Su.

Mali

***While camping at a hotel in Bamako, we met a small group of travelers. Two Dutch on moto-bikes, a South African and a German. At the time, not a big deal, not significant at all. They were traveling together towards Timbuktu, a city that was on our itinerary, but changed for security reasons. About 2 weeks later we read the headlines of "Mali Kidnapping" and went on to read about a group of tourist, two Dutch and one South African who were kidnapped and a German man killed for resisting the attack in Timbuktu. We believe that group was the group we met in Bamako was the group that was kidnapped. In fact, after doing some research today trying to see if they were ever released, I found this video update and am sure it was them.***
 

Sunset over the Niger River

We bush camped and then stayed in Bamako, Mali's capital, for two nights. The nightlife was said to be some of the best in West Africa, but I think we went out on a 'dead' night.  

Just being kids...

Mandingue Country Trek- We trekked through villages meeting many local people. This area is the birth place of the Mali Empire. Many hills, waterfalls and very beautiful people. 

5-star bush camp

Our holiday goat.

 
We also celebrated Tabaski- a holiday celebrated ~70 days after Ramadan. Each family buys and sacrafices a goat. 1/3 of the goat stays with the family to eat, 1/3 goes to neighbors and friends, and 1/3 goes to the poor, needy and elderly.

Nomadic man from the Tuareg tribe

African Transport: there is always room for more.

. b e a u t y . j o y .

Segou- On the banks of the Niger River, and home to the amazing Festival of the Niger, Segou is also home to the infamous mud cloth. I was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to attend a workshop learning all about the process. The process is traditionally called Bògòlanfini. First the Malian cotton fabric is died (yellow, red or blue) using different natural occurring elements (indigo, tree leaves). After the clothe dries, fermented mud is used to paint symbols onto the cloth. They also use a soap bleach to paint white.