Salut from Senegal

By Martha Aurelius

The cockroach family, who resides in our bathroom, greets me less and less each day as I get ready for another cold bucket shower. I am hoping that the convenience of our opposite schedules will continue until I leave for my internship in the rural town of Fatick. The strange noises of cat fights and the lonely, moaning sheep in our courtyard no longer phase me as I try to fall asleep on these humid nights. The sights of stray dogs lounging under cars for shade and smiling Senegalese men on the sidewalk selling Nescafe, hard boiled egg-French fried sandwiches, or street meat have made a common place in my daily walk to school. Even though I may be growing accustomed to pieces of the Senegalese culture, I still find myself on another unexplainable adventure that makes me wonder if I am sometimes living in an on-going dream.

A fellow student in Martha Aurelius’ program. Photo by Kirby Nelson.

Minnesota Studies in International Development Program (MSID) is full of amazing professors and a great staff, who are always willing to drop everything and help each individual student with their needs (a.k.a “culture shock”). Professor Ousmane Sene is the MSID program director at the West African Research Center, He teaches literature at the university and takes care of all of the students as if they were his children. His face is always animated and for about 80 percent of the time, he has a gleaming grin on his face. Professor Sene’s laugh is contagious, and one time he challenged one of my classmates to a “laughing match;” he won of course, leaving us crying and grabbing our stomachs. Marianne and Waly are the MSID “guardian angels.” In the past month, Waly found 23 unique internships for each student in our program and he still finds time to sit back and teach us slang phrases in Wolof. Just the sight of Marianne would stop many in their tracks. She is absolutely beautiful, inside and out, helping every student who comes to her with a problem, no matter how minor it may seem. As for my classes, I am finding myself comprehending more and more French each day in my Country Seminar, Education, and Literature lectures. Since I am finally set in a perfect groove and rhythm with my daily school life, I have found more time to go to the nearest beach, hop in a taxi and explore Centre Ville (downtown), or master my bartering skills at the ever-so-intimidating Sondaga market. Here are my latest adventures:

Adventure #1: Remember how I had a crazy craving to dance, since there is music everywhere I go? Well, I finally had my chance to “bust a move” on a dark starry night. Our MSID program took all of the students to an amazing dance performance on our weekend long field trip to Toubacouta. There were four men intensely drumming a perfect rhythm for the female dancers, who were telling a traditional Senegalese folktale through dance. Every movement they made rattled the seashells and jingled the bells that were tied around their wrists, hips, and ankles, which are there for protection. An older man tied back his long dreadlocks and pulled up his multi-colored, striped pants before walking on fire and eating red-hot embers. At the end of their performance, they pulled everyone out of their chairs to join the dance circle. I knew that this was prime time to really test my African dance skills that I learned last semester at the University of Minnesota. Once I started dancing, I realized that the circle grew and formed around me. All I could hear was the solid pounding rhythm of the drums that led my feet to the next move. I have fallen in love with the excitement that you see on the faces of the Senegalese men, women, and children who are dancing “mbalax.” There is a mystical trance that I find myself being drawn to every time I hear the music.

Adventure #2: You will never find a “fixed price” whenever you visit the markets of Sondaga or HLM. Bartering is the name of the game, and the better player you are, the more change you’ll have in your pocket at the end of the day to buy a plate of “cebb u jen” (fish and rice). “My sister! My sister! I have a lovely necklace for you!” Catchy phrases are called out to me every time I step foot in the market place. Fabrics, woven baskets, beach wraps, and jewelry stands sit side by side the men selling fresh fish that create a swarm of buzzing flies. It is very easy for a sweet young girl like me, who is accustomed to “Midwestern Nice,” to feel guilty for not making a purchase. Yet, I am toughening up and turning bartering into an adventurous game. If the salesman asks for an outrageous price for a small bracelet, I simply laugh and sarcastically ask in Wolof, “Are you hungry? You must be since you have forgotten the real prices!” Laughing off the harsh, competitive salesmen always gives me a story to tell at the end of the day to my Senegalese host family.

Adventure #3: Having blonde hair does bring a little unwanted attention to me as I walk around Dakar. And when I say “a little attention,” I mean daily marriage proposals from men in the street, taxi drivers, and the local fruit stand man. At first, I didn’t know what to say, so I pretended to have a boyfriend back in the states, thinking that that would lessen the questioning. Yet the idea of long distance or “cross the Atlantic” relationships does not exist in Senegal, so the men will persist on asking my hand in marriage. To end the somewhat annoying pleading to be my husband, I sarcastically ask if they are willing to be my fourth or fifth husband since I am a born traveler and have a husband in each country I have traveled to.

With all of that said and done, there is only one appropriate Wolof phrase of the day to share with all of you, which my Wolof professor said I will need for survival while living in Senegal:

“Xolumafar.”

“I don’t need a boyfriend.”