Impending Reverse Culture Shock

Last spring when I was still at Grinnell, Richard Bright, the head of the International Studies Office, warned all students studying abroad this semester about reverse culture shock, amongst other things- often when a person spends a large chunk of time in another country, coming home and readjusting to one’s own culture can prove difficult.

This past week I’ve started to realize how weird going home in a few weeks is going to be, gauging by the things that happen in my day to day life here that I no longer think are weird. For example- Saturday I went to market day in Sandiara with Baay Paté, my host dad, and Nafi, my host sister. I didn’t give a second thought as we climbed onto the cart behind the family horse, Pap Guye, and rumbled off down a dirt road that runs beside the paved highway. Sights and sounds of the market that would have made my eyes pop my first week in Senegal are now familiar- men walking by holding fistfuls of live chickens by their feet; women in vibrant boubous waving to the piles of dead fish they’re selling; a few kids sitting on a pile of peanuts pulled on a cart by a donkey or two; a man crippled by polio, pulling himself along on the ground, shoes on his hands. Sunday Baay Paté bought me frozen bissap juice, and it took me half an hour to notice I was drinking out a bottle with a faded label that read “Genuine Brake Fluid.” I realized today that Pap Guye, the crazy kid for whom Pap Guye the horse was named, has been wearing for 3 or 4 days a sports jersey #62- but where an athlete’s last name should be, the shirt says “TOFU.” Going to bed at 8 or 9 PM every night makes sense these days- when there’s no electricity, you can’t really do much after dark. I’ve learned to eat properly, with my right hand, at a bowl shared by my family and whatever other kids or visitors wander by at mealtime. Another mouse moved into my armoire after the first one died, but we have an understanding- he doesn’t come near my bed, and I don’t put out the rat poison. We’re very nearly friends now! … At any rate, I can definitely tell that getting back to a land of running water, grocery stores, and forks and knives is going to be a real kick in the pants.

My Wolof is improving, though I sometimes feel that I’ve just gotten better at having the same conversation with every new person I meet. It goes about like this:

“(Toubab!) Asalaa Malekum!”
Me: “Malekum Salaam!”
“Nanga def?” (How are you?)
“Maangi fi rekk.” (I’m here only.}
“Yaangi noos?” (How’s it going?)
“Maangi noos bu baax!” (It’s going well!)
“AH! Degg nga Wolof??” (You understand Wolof??)
“Waaw, tutti tutti.” (A little.)
“Noo tudd?” (What’s your name?)
“Mariame Niass.”
-lots of laughing.-
“Fooy dekk?” (Where are you living?)
“Keram Baay Paté, ci campement.” (At Baay Paté’s house, at the “campement”.)
“Am nga jekker?” (Do you have a husband?)
“Waaw, am naa juroom jekker!” (Yes, I have 5 husbands!)
“JUROOM (x$ sln*) JEKKER??”
“Waaw, ci Etats-Unis!” (Yes, in the US!)
-lots more laughing.-
“Mariame Niass kaay ndekki/an/reer!” (Come eat breakfast/lunch/dinner!)
“Suur naa, jerejef. Lekk naa ba pare.” (I’m full, thanks. I already ate.)
“Kaay lekk, waay!” (Come eat, anyway!)
“Baax naa, jerejef! Maangi dem ligeey. Ba ci kanam!” (It’s ok, thanks! I’m going to
work. See you later!)
“Baax benen yoon!” (Until next time!)

My favorite times in Séssene have been those spent with my family. This past week everyone has been getting all jazzed up for Tabaski, a big holiday coming up on Saturday 11/28! They call it “La Fete des Moutons,” (“The Party of Sheep,”) because every man who has the means buys a sheep and kills it for his wife (or wives) and children, and the family eats meat for a few days. Tabaski celebrates the Koranic story of Isaac (or maybe Ishmael?) who had to make a sacrifice to God, but had only his son to offer. His wife and son both gave him the go ahead to kill the boy to appease God, but being all powerful and beneficent, God switched out Isaac/Ishmael’s son for a sheep at the last minute. M. Dia explained the story to me on our way out to the garden last week, adding that it’s damn lucky the story ended that way, or every man would have to kill one of his children every year. In my house alone there are five nuclear families, so potentially five sheep deaths this coming Saturday- a veritable blood bath! Anyway- all the women of the house have started braiding weaves in their hair and choosing fabric for their Tabaski outifits. My host brother Ndiaga is a tailor, and he’s been working every day and late into the night for the past week on his foot pedal operated sewing machine. I’m very much looking forward to Saturday! Should be an adequate replacement for Thanksgiving.

Other than Tabaski preparations, I’ve been enjoying taking part in every day goings-on around the house, like fetching water from the well, cooking, doing laundry, etc. One of my favorite parts of the afternoons I spend at home is making attaya after lunch. Attaya is very strong green tea that virtually all Senegalese people make and drink regularly, usually after lunch. Attaya is made in three rounds, each round sweeter and less bitter than the first. All three rounds take up to an hour and half to make, and everyone has their own idea about how much tea and sugar should be added to the pot for each round. My family has been giving me attaya lessons since I arrived here, and now I can make the tea myself! I bought an attaya tea pot, glasses, and tea at the market this past weekend to bring home so I can make it in the U.S. too!

Things at work have improved in the last week. The program coordinator for MSID, Waly Faye, came to visit last Monday- he and the assistant coordinator Adji Fall do site visits halfway through everyone’s internships, to check up on us and make sure we’re still alive and whatnot. It was a short visit, but he did ask me about my internship and what might help to improve it. I told him it would help me if M. Pene and I sat down at the beginning of each week and made a schedule, so that I could have a general idea of what will happen day to day and what projects Agrecol is focusing on for that particular week. Waly told M. Pene this, and it turns out M. Pene has been making a schedule, just never showing it to me! Anyway, M. Pene gave me a schedule at the beginning of last week and this week, and it’s helped loads. Last week Agrecol’s car was fixed, so we spent most of our days traveling to the villages in the region to check up on three projects- the progress of the chicken houses started with the Belgians, the “cases de solidarités,” and village gardens. Though I was still pretty much just tagging along, it was nice to know where we were going and why, and to have a better sense of a general goal for the week. I also learned a bit more about Agrecol’s ongoing projects in the Séssene area.

“Les cases de solidarités” were an idea of Agrecol’s, and are managed by Mariame Faye, who is in charge of working with “les groupements des femmes,” or women’s groups, in villages around Séssene. The idea is that each time each women’s group meets, a calabas (a kind of gourd) covered in cloth is passed around, and each woman puts her hand under the cloth to donate whatever money she can spare. The cloth keeps the donations anonymous, so that no one is judged if they can only give a small amount, or nothing at all. The women then vote on what they want to do with the money, though Agrecol insists that it must go first toward issues of food security, health, and education. The women are also not allowed to divvy up the money amongst themselves. Last week Mariame checked in with the leaders of the women’s groups in the villages we visited, keeping tabs on how much money each group has raised since the project began in June and how the money have spent the money. One village has raised 39,000 CFA since June, (about $88,) a significant sum for women who usually have no money to spend but what their husbands give them.

At each village we visited, M. Dia checked in with farmers involved in Agrecol’s “maraichage,” or gardening project. Last year, Agrecol donated large tanks for water storage and a system of piping to each farmer interested in the program, so that these farmers could rig up simple drip irrigation systems. Before planting begins, the farmers meet with M. Pene, M. Dia, and Mariame Faye to plan which of them will grow what fruits and veggies, and when they will plant. This way, Agrecol knows what crops to expect at harvest time, and can figure out the timing of planting so that crops with different growing periods are ready to harvest at roughly the same time. The farmers are also instructed on methods of organic farming, like crop rotation and fertilization, and are expected not to use pesticides or chemical fertilizers. When the harvest comes, farmers bring their produce to Agrecol. The NGO transports it to Thies, a city about an hour away, and sells it at a special market attended by Agrecol’s partners, (mostly hotels and restaurants,) who buy the produce at better prices than the farmers can get at local markets. Right now farmers are getting ready to plant their fields, and this past Monday was the meeting to plan which farmers will grow what, and when. Unfortunately I missed it because I was sick, but am looking forward to hearing about it from M. Pene.

That’s about all for now! Tonight I’m going with Nafi to get my hair braided for Tabaski, which is very exciting, and tomorrow the German donor who funds Agrecol/Afrique is visiting Séssene, so that should be interesting. Hope you all are well- can’t believe I’ll be home to see some of you in less than 3 weeks! (Inshallah)