Prayerblogging: No Expectations

This post is hereby dedicated to Elizabeth Jane.

From our first day in Senegal, we knew about the rural visit. We had been told that we'd be given a contact and some money, and we'd have to make our own way there. This visit was supposed to be two weeks ago, but when we asked for more information we were told it had been moved to after spring break. We were given choices of activities and locations. I chose Palmarin Ngallo, for traditional music.

Well the closer we got the more we came to terms with the fact that this wasn't the rural visit we'd expected. We ended up taking sept places with the Lewis and Clark girls to an auberge in Sokone. We had been told the visit was lasting until Sunday, they until Saturday. One of the girls wanted to be back for her nephew's baptism, and there was a lot of discussion over return day. Beloit girls, I'm proud of you for your "no expectations" attitude and immense flexibility. Way to be on Dakar time.

There was a point when we first got there where I was just confused and stressed and frustrated and began pouring out my heart like water before the Lord, and I got a verse that said, "The Lord has done what he purposed; he has carried out his word" (Lamentations 2:17a) which was immensely comforting.

With that out of the way, and plans out the window, I had no idea what I'd be doing or where I'd be staying. Since music wasn't a choice, I was given traditional education of children, and sent to live with a Serreer family. If I wanted to give you an idea of what my weekend was really like, I'd type this in a language you don't speak. That's right, I don't speak Serreer and they don't speak French. Luckily Serreer and Wolof are really similar, and most people speak some Wolof, so we were able to communicate.

My family lived in an open area, with cats, chickens, goats, and dogs running around, along with all the children and their friends. It was difficult to tell whom was related to whom. I asked to help with the laundry being folded by my younger sister and was relegated to towels. I really failed at the marble game my brothers were playing, and it was quickly realized I had a gift of calming Matisse (<2), the water child. In traditional beliefs, there are "water children" who anger easily and must be appeased because if they get too upset they can just drift away and disappear (die). My family was impressed that I recognized she was a water child. They asked if I wanted to take her back to Dakar, then America, and then come home next year; but only if America had ceeb :)

Children are generally not coddled and learn very early to do work. Even my young sisters (ages 6-11) did laundry, helped with cooking, cleaning, and taking care of younger siblings.

I also realized I'd been given a status of which I was completely unworthy when I was called over by my host mother (Maam) to eat. This put me at the status of an old, wise person who was deeply valued and respected. The children ate by themselves, and my aunt ate with my uncle. We had couscous with fish.

As we sat and talked - Maam pulled her chair up to mine and said, Kay waxtaan (come discuss), night fell. Since my phone was in my room, I had no concept of time. My family started asking me if I was tired and wanted to go to bed, so I assumed it was pretty late. I went to my room and it was 8:43pm. Duped. Oh well, I fell asleep just after 9 and slept straight through to almost 7. I got up and was greeted with a handshake and assalaam alekum, nellow nga bu bax by just about every member of the household. Someone went out and got me a breakfast of bread, butter and coffee which is what I'm used to. Assaly made sure she said goodbye before heading to school.

Babaccar, my sophomore in high school brother, was the only family member that spoke French, however he had no interest in translation. A woman was brought to the house by Maam to ask me how long I'd be there and why I was there. It never ceases to amaze me how unconcerned people are about these things. In the US, you generally ask these questions before you agree to take someone in. I didn't really know exactly why I was there so I accepted the given answer of learning about tradition. We said goodbye to the woman, and Maam told me to grab my notebook and camera.

We went around the village together, meeting basically everyone who lived there. Several people invited us in and wanted me to interview them so I did. Most of these people spoke French which made things much easier. They even told me that Maam was a widow, and some more about how difficult life was. One man actually works in Dakar but has his family in Sokone that he visits on the weekends. Another woman talked about the unreliability of the sea for economic means.

Then we went and visited the sea port and I saw the fish being caught, sorted, and grilled. Our last stop was a Koranic school, which was very interesting. The room with the youngest children seemed like chaos, with a lot of little voices yelling in Arabic. The next room with middle/high school aged children had each of them taking turns at recitations. Then there was another room with middle/high school aged students that I was invited in to. I was given a stool, and once I sat down, they all stood up and sang me a song in Arabic. The cheikh described what they do in Wolof, and Babaccar translated. I got more out of what the cheikh said than what Babaccar told me.

We left the school and were told my tam tam teacher was waiting back at the house. A music lesson had been arranged. This was incredibly awkward as all my neighbors came over for this and my teacher decided not to use any words to teach me this little drum. So I mostly just awkwardly tried to copy him, and my younger siblings clapped and danced along. Val came over with her host sister and tried her hand. After nearly two hours of this bizarre experience, we had attaya and then lunch, which was ceebujen. Val, her sister and I ate alone, and it was delicious. Then I was invited to Val's, so off we went.

On our way there, some of the people I'd met earlier called out to me, "Aida, Aida" (my Senegalese name) and Val's sister found it hilarious. When we got to Val's, we were told it was lunch time...again. Suur naa! But it was delicious, kind of a lamb stew with rice. We were both accused of not eating, though I tell you, I had eaten A LOT. Then we were told to rest and just chilled in Val's room. We were given third lunch (yes THIRD) and were stuffed to capacity, and made a trip to the squatty potty.

We were later collected and brought to a village for dancing. It's not embarrassing if everyone does it was our motto. Besides Yuza, we learned a Sereer dance that involved "sweeping" and "doing the laundry" Laughter abounded and we left sweaty and happy.

When I got home, I was still full from my 3 lunches so I told my family I'd already eaten dinner. I was then directed to a place to fill a bucket with water, and to my "bathroom". This bathroom was really just a semi-open area attached to my room. There were 2 1/2 walls, pretty low, and no ceiling. And a dirt floor, which makes washing your feet a totally lost cause. But I really did feel better if not actually cleaner after my shower. I sat out with the family, and they got my phone number because they were going to miss me so much, especially the young ones. My aunt is pregnant and said if she has a girl, she'll name her Aida for me. I didn't get bedtime duped this time.

I woke up to pack and prepare and found Val at my house. We were getting ready for breakfast when someone from the auberge came to pick us up. Oh well. My family gave me fabric as a parting gift so that I could make something out of it and remember them every time I wore it. I was very moved by this gesture. The Seen family has a piece of my heart forever.

We took breakfast at the auberge (including mango jam - YUM) and said our farewells. Everyone looked happy. We took a bus home to Dakar that mysteriously took almost two hours longer than the trip there. I went home and I've been resting ever since...more about that later.

But it was a successful trip, especially once we shed our expectations :)