An Ode to Mbam
There’s something about the bush that grabs me. I think it’s the tranquility and the simple way of life. Saying goodbye was one of the most difficult things I’ve done in Senegal. It’s hard to explain the emotions attached. It is a place that I will never forget. It’s a place where I feel loved and appreciated. I hope that I can…no no, I’ll write this affirmatively… I know that I will continue to go back there and maintain the relationships I created.On my last visit to Mbam, I returned to the beach, one of my favorite places in the world. I walked there alone, balancing my bag on my head, the wind blowing against my body, walking across the wind-drifted sand road. I traversed the village, greeting people as I passed them and shaking small children’s hands. Eventually, the houses disappeared behind me and the river came into view in the distance. Me, the sand road, baobabs speckling the countryside; the late afternoon sun beginning its descent, a flock of white herons taking flight, their wings glistening in the sunlight; the silhouette of men washing their horses in the river, the dry fields cleared, sown, and waiting for the rains to come, the flat salty lands leading up to the river. I felt whole. I was sad, and I was happy. These are the scenes that I love.
I met friends at the beach and as we walked back toward the village, they broke into an impromptu wrestling match. I watched as they wrestled and played in the sand, their dark bodies smeared with the blond sand and white salt residue. They ran and washed themselves in the river. These are men in their mid-20s. Some are still in school. Others are not. Some have left the village for work, but are back for the weekend. This time of year, though, they all spend long hard days in the fields getting ready for the rainy season. They are tired, they say, but here they were just having pure fun. That’s when I realized I’m jealous. I so rarely see happiness manifest itself in such a pure form. At home, fun comes in such forms as baseball games, BBQs, movies, and plays, but these are all organized events and activities. Here it was just man and nature. And they live there! They have this every day of their life.
It hurts to know that I won’t be returning there soon. It hurts to know that soon I won’t even be in the same country, let alone the same continent. At least when I’m in Dakar, I’m comforted by the fact that Mbam and its people are a 4 hour ride away. But this time I won’t be going back. Maybe I’ll be back in October, maybe in January, or the following May. Yallah rekk ko xaam. Only God knows. I hope I’ll be back sooner rather than later. My experiences there are ones that have changed me forever. I will never forget and will always appreciate the way people treated me with open minds, hearts and arms. It’s unbelievable. Mbam is part of who I am, and I will bring it with me wherever my life leads me.
So, Goodbye Mbam. Thank you for the lessons, the tranquility, the community and the millions of memories. I hope to keep you a part of my life. It’s too incredible to give up. They think I’m lucky to live in the US. But remembering the guys playing at the beach, so carefree and happy, I think they’re the lucky ones. Their life is hard, but it’s simple. And simplicity is something I think we should all strive for in our lives. Their worries are more fundamental—food, money, rainfall. But that’s what it is. There are no guns, no lack of community, no running from one place to another, no approaching deadlines. Oh it’s too different worlds, but I am so glad and so fortunate to have been exposed to this one. It has taught me so much. May God keep them, Bless, them, and love them. Que dieu vous gaurde, waa Mbam.
posted by Hannah Gelder @ 5:33 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home