Beneath a Baobab: Stories from Sénégal

Senegalese Teranga at its Finest

The Setting: Dakar-Mermoz, and Saint Louis, Senegal; Saturday, May 26-Monday, May 28

Characters: Jess and Chris (a South African and a Canadian I met who work at the hotel where I stayed during my most recent trip to the Gambia); Seynabou, Ndeye Marem, and the other members of the Mbengue Family

The Event: The Annual St. Louis Jazz Festival

The Background: Jess and Chris were going to the festival. I thought about joining them up there, but ultimately decided it would be too difficult to meet them, since they didn't have a cell phone and I didn't know where they were staying. Also, my boss was in town until Friday evening, so I couldn't leave right after work, meaning I'd miss the main concert. Friday evening, I learned that Monday was a Federal holiday, so I wouldn't have to go to work. I spoke with Chris on Friday morning as they passed through Dakar, I told him I was entertaining the idea of meeting them in St. Louis, he said he'd e-mail with their logistics once they arrived.

Saturday afternoon around 3:30pm, I checked my e-mail and found a note from Chris giving me the name of their hotel and saying they hoped I was on my way. They were meeting other friends in front of the Governor's Palace at 8pm. I had originally wanted to go to the Jazz Festival and I wanted to see Jess and Chris again, so I decided, on a limb, to go for it. I ran home, packed my bags, grabbed the 9000cfa ($18) I had stashed in my room, and headed to the garage to catch a 7-place station wagon to St. Louis. Upon arriving at the garage, I discovered there were no cars heading that way. I waited over an hour for a mini-bus to show up and then against my better judgment decided to take the bus to St. Louis. While waiting, two women (enter Seynabou and Ndeye Marem) felt bad for me and decided to take me under their wing.

Once the bus arrived at the station in Dakar, we weren't able to leave immediately because there was a dispute about the number of passengers it would carry. The apprentices wanted Seynabou to pay for 2 seats because she was just that big, and a fourth passenger could not comfortably sit in her row. Ultimately, all the passengers chipped in 200cfa to pay for the final seat so that we could leave.

We left for St. Louis around 6:45pm. It's a four hour drive, but due to terrible traffic conditions we didn't arrive until 11:50pm. Now I had the mission of finding my friends' hotel. All I knew was the name. Seynabou and Ndeye Marem, however, insisted, that I come back to their house, spend the night there, and then try to find my friends the next morning. I relented because I knew my mission was likely to fail and it was foolish to set off on my own at midnight with practically no money. I also learned that the hotel was on the far-off outskirts of town. It just didn't make sense to try and get there.

We went to their house. They heated up dinner and Ndeye Marem's husband made tea. We sat, chatted in Wolof, and watched TV. Then they called Seybabou's son Ablaye back to the house. They told him to take me around to see the festival. So off we went at 1am. We passed by the free concert in the stadium featuring a Senegalese artist just as it was finishing. People poured out of the doors, and filled the street. We continued walking for another 1/2 hour to the island, which is downtown St. Louis. After the concerts are over, all the local bars and clubs host afterparties. Ablaye knows all the bouncers, so we didn't have to pay a cover charge anywhere. He took me to see all the local venues and we ultimately chose a bar with live jazz music. Around 4am, we headed home because I was exhausted.

The conditions were probably not ideal by most American standards. Before I came I would have been uneasy with the squat toilet, bucket shower and uncomfortable bed. But I was pleased to see in myself the ways I've changed. I thought this arrangement was perfect. Not a problem at all. I headed confidently into the bathroom and felt spoiled for having my own room with electricity and a mosquito net.

The next day, I woke up with the intention of going to find my friends. I had breakfast, showered, then went to the bank. Money in pocket, I felt much more secure about my existence in St. Louis, as I could pay for taxis, purchase food and water, and pay for a room at the hotel. But before I left, the family insisted that I stay for lunch. Who was I to turn down a meal of ceebujenn. Plus, I had no idea how to meet my friends. Would they still be at the hotel at noon? So I stayed and sat in the courtyard with the family. We chatted, danced, played soccer and basketball. It was lovely. I was adopted by yet another family in Senegal. After lunch, we drank tea and lounged some more. At this point, I'd given up completely on trying to find my friends. I went to the market with one of my little sisters to get the ingredients for dinner. Back at the house, my little brother was in the process of killing two chickens. I forced myself to watch. Much to my dismay, he thought it would be fun to play with the beheaded-head as the body twitched and jerked for a few minutes until the blood and muscles settled. I figure if I'm going to eat the animal, I have to be able to watch it die. I had mentioned earlier in the day that I like chicken. My brother told me that since I like chicken and he likes chicken, we were going to have chicken for dinner. This was as close as I've come to having an animal prepared in my honor. Then my sister, brother, Ablaye, and I headed onto the island again to see the fair and festival during the day.

We saw an African-dress fashion show and walked through the market jam-packed with vendors and people. It was crazy! We stopped for a bit to sit outside an art shop where Ablaye new the owner. As we sat, I suddenly saw Jess and Chris pass by the nearby intersection. I finally met up with them! We chatted for a few minutes and made plans to meet later that night.

My siblings and I headed back to the house for dinner. It was delicious chicken and couscous. After tea and TV, my siblings and I went to the free Vivian Ndour concert. She's a famous Senegalese singer. This was the free concert as opposed to the expensive jazz concert on the island. The concert was great. I was one of the few tubaabs in the entire stadium. This is remarkable because at the afterparties, I'm convinced English is the dominant language because every peace corps volunteer from West Africa seems to be at the Jazz Fest. It was funny for me to understand the conversations around me. It was a bit of a preview for my return to the US.

Anyway, I received a call from Jess and Chris. We tried to figure out where to meet one another, and ultimately came to the conclusion that it was just going to be too difficult to coordinate. That was disappointing, but that's life. Seeing them clearly wasn't in my cards.

Ablaye and I headed to the island, and went to a local bar for a beer. It was seedy, smoky and quite different from the other establishments on the island aimed at the tourists. Then we returned to the live jazz bar and eventually returned home at 5am.

The next morning, I left around 11 after waking up and having breakfast. I got back to Dakar without a problem. Santa Yallah.

But I think this weekend is a perfect anecdote of my time in Senegal and my experience travelling in the region. I had a plan, though I'll admit it wasn't a very good one, but then I was willing to let it change. And I think my experience was all the richer for it. I was able to experience the local way of life. I can hear jazz concerts whenever I want in the US and with e-mail I can keep in contact with my friends. And though I'd come all the way up to St. Louis to see Jess and Chris and then had less than 5 minutes with them, the experience staying with the Mbengue family was much more valuable. They taught me a lesson. Senegalese Teranga (hospitality) never fails to amaze me. How incredible it was that they just took me into their home like that. They didn't want money or gifts (though I insisted on leaving something with them), they just wanted to help me out. And it was nice for me to find that I was able to give back as well just by being open and friendly with them. Seynabou told me one day I had to come back and stay for 15 days. And often, I'd look around the room, and find them all sitting and looking at me with a smile on their face and this look of wonder in their eyes. Who is this tubaab that just came waltzing into their house and life? But we all had a good time together and learned from one another. When I called on Monday night to tell them I'd arrived safely, all the members of the family wanted to say hello. I have their address and intend to keep in touch.

This weekend confirmed my faith in the goodness of humanity and kindness of the human heart. This world would be a better place if we all had more trust in one another, let down our guards, and opened ourselves to new people and new experiences. That is how I try to live my life. What a fortunate coincidence to have met the women at the garage.

posted by Hannah Gelder @ 11:32 AM