EVERYDAY LIFE:
Our street was chock a block with children. In fact it seems that directly in front of our house was like a playground. There were the six children in the Doumbia house, the five or more in the apartment building across the street, 2 or 3 to the left, 2 or 3 to the right...when they weren't in school they were playing on the street and running in and out of various houses. People mostly just leave their front doors open. Pretty much everyone knows each other so the kids just come and go freely. In Senegal and in Gambia when the children see people with light skin they call out the word "Toubab"...it doesn't mean "white person", it means someone with skin lighter than the average citizen, and who appears to be a foreigner. That could be me, someone from India, and even many African Americans! So when i first got there the kids called out to me Toubab and i learned to reply "Tudu ma Toubab, Zakariah la tudu" (my name is not Toubab, Zak is my name!) So after about a week all the kids on the block knew my name and when i stepped out the door and down the street it was "Zakariah Zakariah!" At first it was fun but after about 3 weeks it got a bit exhausting...On the topic of skin color...the people of Senegal have the darkest skin of any group of people i have ever seen. A deep rich darkness...i would say the women in Senegal are the most beautiful women i have ever seen but that would make me a racist...in general people here are just less self conscious of themselves. The women don't seem to be self conscious of how beautiful they are...not much attitude. They just "are". The more "city-fied" they are, the more money they have, the more access to media (and thus comparisons to other people), yes, those people here in Senegal are more self conscious. But the average woman, no. I don't think they obsess on how they look like most people in the west who are constantly looking at themselves in mirrors, in shop windows, worried about how they look. The women hardly ever wear makeup, or shave the hair off their bodies (what little they do have)...It is so utterly refreshing to be around people who are just so comfortable in their bodies, and in their clothes, and don't feel the need to douse themselves with perfume, lipstick, eyeliner, deodorant, high heels, hair spray, shirt and tie, tooth bleaching, plastic surgery, laser hair removal, tatoos, skin piercings, hair dying, finger nail polish, toenail polish, etc. etc. ad nauseum (although there is a bit of facial skin scarring that is used by some women around the eyes...and if fact, having said all that, i am reminded that many women in Africa do actually bleach their skin to make it lighter...and there is a trend towards make up and being "pretty", so maybe i am barking up the wrong tree, but still.)....people also don't feel the need to be constantly saying "Please, excuse me, sorry" etc. as if they are embarrassed to be alive. Really. When people are constantly saying "excuse me and sorry" it makes everyone self conscious and uncomfortable. I sneezed, excuse me, i coughed, excuse me, i farted, excuse me, pleased excuse me but if you dont mind would you be so kind as to please pass the butter please if its not too much trouble sorry, i brushed against your leg, sorry, i used your cup, sorry, its maddening. Just get on with it i say, no one cares! But when people here say "thank you" they really mean it, it's sincere, not just a throw away line. Almost no one is overweight here. Diabetes hardly exists. But it is true that the life span in years is less, so they say. 50 percent of the people in West Africa are under the age of 20. The average age is probably 15. Contrast that with America, where the average age is 30. When i became aware of this i realized that me as a 42 year old am probably older than close to 90 percent of the citizens of Senegal. Wow. In the west i feel like a regular young person, here i am old. Senegal really is a society of young people. That makes it difficult for the country to really develop in a mature way, because of the lack of a large class of elders to be in positions of responsibility and decision making. Not to mention that like in many places, there is a talent and brain drain in Africa. So MANY people are just dying to get out of here and go to Europe, America, anywhere with more economic opportunity. So people with talent, and brains, find a way to get out, leaving the less fortunate behind. And of course they send money home, but it doesn't really trickle down, it just gets concentrated in the few lucky families. Actually, more than just a few. Quite alot of Senegalese have made it out, and in New York a part of Harlem is called "little Senegal"...so there is a housing boom in the city, with really nice big modern houses being built by citizens making first world money.
One morning i walked with Salif from the house to the bus where we rode to a football practice field near the busy bustling area near the national stadium. As we strode along the main road in this heavily urbanized area i was dumbstruck by the quiet. Why so quiet? So few cars. Most everyone just walking. Walking to school, walking to work or to catch a bus...total opposite of the west where hardly anyone walks and everyone is in a car. Its was lovely and quiet. And i couldn't help but notice that half the people in the street were children in uniform trekking off to school. Both public and private schools are common. The private schools only cost 25 or 50 us dollars per month, not including school supplies and uniforms, but even that is beyond the reach of most parents. Two of the children in our house went to private school because their father lives in France and sends money. The public schools are good, but it seemed half the time the teachers were on strike for better pay and the kids stayed home, which was frustrating to witness. Every night in the house the children sat together and did their homework in little composition books. First thing i noticed is the perfect handwriting. I mean, excellent handwriting. If one of the kids was goofing while studying, then mama Fatoumbai was likely to smack her across the back with an open hand, with a sharp verbal scolding. As they say in Oakland, African parents "don't play". Parenting is a serious business here. As a child you toe the line or you get smacked. Period. Fatoumbai was amazing to watch. I called her the premier of keur Doumbia...the president of the house. The tradition of Senegal is that one of the sons of a family will bring his wife to live with his parents, and she will take over the domestic organization of the house, thus relieving the mother of the family to "retire" and spend her energy nurturing her grandchildren, mentoring the young adults, and serving as an elder advisor and role model for the community. That was the role Yai Fanta, Kens mom, was filling, because Fatoumbai was now running the show. And doing it with grace, humour and good will. Everyone loves her. One time years back, as the story goes, her husband did something to upset her and she went to stay with her parents. Yai Fanta told her son, take some money, go to her parents, pay the money, beg for forgiveness, and bring her back, or i will KICK YOUR ASS OUT OF THIS HOUSE!! He did. Problem solved. Many nights i would sit with all the men in the garage drinking tea, smoking cigs, listening to music and just talking talking talking. It was a great reunion with Ken and all his friends and family. We would talk in French, English, Wolof and Bamana all at the same time. I would just try and follow along as best i could, using body language and pidgeon whatever to communicate. Sometimes it was a quite frustrating language cultural barrier, but other times it led to some roll on the floor hilarity. Sometimes Fatoumbai would come in to sit by her husband and she would joke with the men in that way only the woman of the house can. As in..."you better respect me if you want to get fed"...women here still fulfill those old traditional roles of child rearing and house running. Are they free to pursue economic careers? Not as much as in the west. But they do a far better job of raising the children because of it. They breast feed for 18 to 24 months. And they do it TOTALLY unselfconsciously, in the open, any time, any where. The breast of a woman is compleley desexualized. Women walk around the house topless if they feel like it...the breast is for feeding babies. Its not a sex object. Again, how refreshing to be around people who don't feel the need to run off and hide to do their sacred maternal duty! They carry the babies with them everywhere. To market, on the bus. No baby carriages, no fancy backpacks, no slings in the front of the body... (and you will NEVER see a man carrying his baby or child in a backpack or a sling. In his strong arms yes, but not like you see in America, where i have seen fathers carrying infants in a sling on their chest, a cell phone in one hand and a latte in the other. Yikes.) To my prejudiced judgemental opinionated self to see a man with a baby like that is totally emasculating, and takes the womans job away too. Get it right, or don't do it! Yes, i am a traditionalist. Just because it's traditional doesn't make it wrong. I don't want to see women barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen. That's not the point. Its just, how to say, biology, and love, and common sense. A piece of cloth and the baby is pressed flat, secure and happy to the small of the mama's back. Easy. Yes it's alot of work for the mother. But the child benefits immensely, and isn't that what it's supposed to be about, in the end? What is best for the child? Not best for the mama, or papa, but best for the CHILD. They simply raise children correctly here. And there are alot of children to raise. As soon as Ken arrived Salif handed him his little baby, the mama being the girl next door. Child number 7 in the Doumbia house. In our immediate vicinity there at least three babies under the age of 6 months. The babies are constantly being held. They never have to be unheld if they don't want to. Someone is always wanting to play and cuddle with a baby, which relieves the mama to get some work done. If you love babies its great. Everyday you want some baby love you just go outside and hold one!
