Teranga

The Wolof's have this proverb: "Ku nekk ci gette gi, naan ci meew mi, tacaw ci deey mi." Literally it translates to: "He who stands in the paddock will drink from the milk, but will also stand in the manure." More figuratively, it means that whatever happens to a person, whether good or bad, when one is part of a community, one will never be alone. To me, this feeling of togetherness with one's community, this social capital, is one of the most enduring aspects of Senegalese society.

This proverb came to my mind on Sunday evening, when I was sitting in my neighbor Fatima Diop's compound on the day when she celebrated the naming of her daughter. It was soon after the "Takussan" prayer, which occurs around 5 p.m. at this time of the year, and people were starting to gather for the baptism. And as they filtered in, it wasn´t just her friends and family who showed up. It was a representative from every family in the village, with some people coming from neighboring villages to share in the celebration. Contrast that with a similar event in America- it would probably just be friends and family who would be invited. But in Senegal, at least in village society, everyone shares in the milk and stands in the shit.

Eventually, the women started to give their gifts to Fatima. And spontaneously, someone started singing about the teranga (hospitality) in Boustane Diaw. It developed into a call and answer sort of affair, and someone turned over a couple of metal bowls and started drumming. A sabaar, or drumming and dancing circle started up. The scene of these women, all of whom are dirt poor, celebrating one of their own´s good fortune together, spontaneously dancing, all in the twilight with the sky, was one of the most beautiful images I witnessed during my two years in Senegal. It was the perfect ending.

Of course, it wasn´t the ending. I still had to say goodbye to each family, and after people returned to their houses at about 9 pm, I started going house to house to say goodbye and give each family a gift. It was the most difficult thing I had to do in Senegal. The period I spent with the Boustane Diaw was one of the most rewarding in my life, and though I am proud of what I did in my village during my time there, I know that I got much more from the experience than I could have ever given to my village. They opened up their homes to me, and made me a part of their community. The people of Boustane Diaw changed me immeasurably during the past two years, and I can never thank them enough for having given me the privilege to spend this time with them.

The next morning, I left before sunrise, as the locals tend to do when leaving a place. I headed to Dakar, finished up logistical details with Peace Corps, and said my goodbyes to the Peace Corps staff and my other volunteer friends. I flew to Morocco, then eventually made my way to Spain, where I sit as I write this blog entry. Currently, I am in an internet cafe in Cuenca, about halfway between the south and the north. I have been biking with one of my stage-mates through Spain, and eventually to Nantes in France. When I get the opportunity, I will update my blog with my general impressions on development in Africa, and a description of our trip.

Until that next time, all the best!