Mboolo moy doole

There are so many new people in my life here in Senegal, and I have yet to really do them any justice, which is entirely unfair of me. I'll start with the lovely family who has taken me in for four months:


My gorgeous host mother, Mbegue Ndoye, or "Maman", has the most infectious laugh. Even though she is usually laughing at something in Wolof that I do not understand at all, I can't help but join in. She laughs with her whole body, rocking back and forth, thoroughly enjoying every moment. Her laughter puts me at ease; even when it takes me ages to explain the simplest of ideas, we can always laugh about it. She is always so engaged in the moment, whether its a meal, a conversation, or explaining something to me in our combinations of French and Wolof. Sometimes she'll just call my name, I'll answer (coming out of some crazy lost place in my thoughts with a "uuhhh Oui?") and she'll burst into laughter. These are some of my favorite moments. 


Her husband, my host dad, works at the airport, which is right next to our neighborhood. I'm pretty sure he's involved in signaling planes with lights, or something like that. They tried to explain it to me my first night, and that's as much as I understood. In any case, his work hours are kind of wonky, so I never know when he'll be around. He speaks more French than my mom, but his accent his more difficult to understand. He seems to really enjoy talking with me anyway, which I appreciate. Sometimes we watch football or Senegalese wrestling together (which, by the way, is super cool. More on that later), and he explains things to me. The other night we had a really interesting conversation about Senegalese people and nonviolence. He is so proud of his country and his religion, it was so interesting to hear him explain the differences between Senegal and Cameroon, where he told me he studied for 9 months when he was younger. I really appreciate his commitment to his ideas, and his willingness to share them with me. 


Bineta, my sister, just turned 24 on the January 28th. When I told her it was my sister Meghan's birthday the next day, she immediately insisted that all January birthdays are best, which obviously I had to contest. Pretty sure she won the argument, as her grasp of the language is markedly better than mine. That has sort of been our difficulty so far. She seems to think I'm a little slow, so she doesn't really put in the effort to talk to me, not that I blame her. This weekend she came with me and a few other students on the program to the beach near our house (about a 10 minute walk), and I made her promise to come swimming next time. So excited there will be a next time! We also had an actual conversation one night while I ate a replacement dinner she made me. (I was having obvious, but not for lack of trying really hard, issues eating this crazy peanut porridge with runny super sweet peanut-y sauce. Sure, it sounds good on paper, but try eating a huge bowl of it for dinner. Everyone completely understood my failure to swallow one of their favorite dishes, and they surprised me later with scrambled eggs and fries. Awesome!) We talked about America and chewing gum, among other frivolous things. There is hope. 


There are also some frequent visitors to our house, specifically Ousseynou and Mas. Ousseynou says he lives across the street, but I'm not so sure, because my friend lives across the street, and she's never seen him. Then again, he also reeks of marijuana about half the time I see him. Things with Ousseynu are unclear. He's a shorter man, and he speaks some English (mostly greetings) and he really likes my iTunes. (Not that I can blame him, I have a pretty sweet collection of tunes.) He also seems to know everyone in Ouakam. Interesting guy. 


Mas is my mom's younger brother, and he is super tall. He looks kind of out of place indoors (in a Hagrid sort of way), and he's always making my mom laugh. He is also the only person I have ever seen praying in my house, usually during football games. I especially like when he pauses mid-prayer to watch the game. Mas makes a lot of ataya (this crazy cool tea drink here) with my dad, and he enjoys teaching me useful phrases in Wolof, even when I make him repeat everything four times so I can write it phonetically. The other day he borrowed my Wolof phrase book to make copies because he also wants to learn English. I'm hoping he'll let me help him, a sort of repayment for all his help with my Wolof. 


The Senegalese are really big fans of proverbs. I think we have discussed proverbs in half of my classes so far, and its only the second week! The title of this entry translates loosely to "The people/unity are the strength." One of my other favorites is "Nit nittay garabam" which means "Man is man's remedy" (but the pronoun is gender neutral in Wolof). The best, though, and it really truly characterizes Senegalese society is: "Ndank ndank moy jap golo ci nay" which literally means "Slowly slowly that you can catch a monkey in the bush." My mom has said this to me more than once, and you can see everywhere the measured, patient approach that the Senegalese have toward life. I'm so down with West African time, which is how we call the fluidity of time and appointments here. I think I was born on West African time.