On Est Ensemble

This is my favorite expression that the Senegalese LOVE to say whenever someone does something nice for you - on est ensemble or no farr in wolof, all of which means 'We are together'. I would like to elaborate more on this but the internet café man is kicking me off! My last night in Sénégal; I am going to a sabar tonight, or a drum repetition on the beach, and then play some French Scrabble with the guys. Tomorrow is the baptism of Magueye's newborn son, he-who-has-not-been-named (babies here are named exactly one week after their birth) .

Mustafa! P'tit monstre!

I hate to leave this country where I find myself surrounded by béugué happiness, family and music.

The Gentlemen's Scrabble Club

Malik, my host brother, invites me to his friend's house on Saturday night to chill . I have no idea what to expect, but mostly a bunch of dudes sitting around playing poker and smoking cigars . We walk into the house right around the corner from the beach, and I immediately love it - we're at "The Professor's" house, with a patio that is covered by a grass canopy with pillows and mats spread out . At a little card table, these two old men are playing not poker, but Scrabble. I immediately think of Mom and Aunt Amy battling it out for Champion of Scrabble. Malik introduces me to The General, who is probably fifty plus, with little spectacles, a bald head and a great wheezing laugh. He's playing against Cheikh, also known as Le Colonel. I meet Zappo, Diallo, Lando, DJ, who all live in the neighborhood and are musicians that repeat and play together every night. The atmosphere is chill and cool and "à l'aise" as they say in French. I join The General and Cheikh at the card table, where they sit for hours, smoking one Excellence cigarette after another and battling over French words that most I've never even heard of . As soon as Malik walks in, he sits down and takes score . Between all the guys here, who are all different ages, different backgrounds, different ethnicities and different work, but they all come together at The Professor's house on the weekend to play music, play Scrabble and discuss (and smoke a few joints here and there). Im enraptured the whole time to see this tight knit group, who are so nice and friendly with each other .for example, Zappo does everything to make sure that everyone is comfortable and has what they need, even if we're not at his house.
Later, we all go down to the beach and bring guitars, djembes, tam tams and percussion and play for hours. Once again, I feel like rhythm and music is flowing through me and my foot doesnt stop tapping .
The guys remind me over and over again "On est ensemble" or in Wolof "No farr" which is their way of saying "We're friends and we're in this together." Big Mo and Lando tell me that they are brothers, because there's a certain point in a friendship when you bypass friendship and become brothers. I also meet Laye, a doctor in the Senegalese army - we talk about Socrates philosophy and go on for hours talking about history, colonization and philosophy. I think I've found my new hangout spot.

Le Voyageur

A word about Senegalese nightclubs - what an experience . I went on Friday night with my host brother and sister - Malik and Mamy . First, alcohol is forbidden by the Koran, but at nightclubs you have the odd bunch who drink . But since theyre not at ALL used to alcohol, they're falling all over the place and hit shamelessly on toubabs like me . Things dont get started until at least 2 in the morning - we arrived at the club at 1 and waited around the empty lounge for an hour before things got started. For music, they hit up all the classic American hip hop and rap songs, and I feel cool only because Im american and know all the words . My favorite part though is that there are mirrors on every wall surrounding the dance floor where guys and girls shamelessly dance by themselves in the mirror and see how they look. Dammmmmn apparently self consciousness doesnt exist here. And then, right when a good song comes on and you want to throw your hands up and shake your hips, you feel something behing you and its some creepy guy behind you whispering in your ear that he wants your phone number. I was preyed on nearly the entire night by guys swooping in and trying to dance with me. Thats when your elbow and a nice shove come in handy.

WAAW means YES!

Gorée is...fantastic. Paradisical. I went back there for a day with Sophie, where we spent a fabulously relaxed and chill day. Sophie and I caught the ferry around 10 am and immediately went looking for Mikaela as soon as we arrived. I met the infamous La Hadt, Monica's admirer while she was here. He's...absolutely gorgeous. I could just stare at his all the livelong day, especially when he's playing the djembe. Julia number 1 was also there for a bit, so we got to catch up. She's allergic to something - a reminder that we are indeed in Africa and need to watch out. We hang out at the port, sit in the sun and chill out. So nice not to have anything to do or anywhere to be. Julia takes the next ferry out bc she's ill,while Mikala and I decide to swim in the little harbor. Amadou and Mbaye come in the water with us and we swim all the way out next to the ferry to send Julia off. We find an old surfboard chillin out in the water and 6 of us try to climb on without tipping off. We all jump off the surfboard into the water . Then swim out to an old pirogue boat in the water, climb in and jump off. The entire ferry witnesses me and my pathetic upper body strength as I hopelessly try to hoist myself into the old boat .FAIL ! Swimming is so much fun and all the guys have such nice bodies, not gonna lie. We dry out on the beach and buy some necklaces from a local. We all share the BEST mango I will ever have, it was like eating pure candy. We hang out at the beach alllll day, talking with the local guys who are all about the same age. Mikala plays on her flute while Amadou taps his djembe - hey, its Irish-African music! Nice!
You can just tell that music and rhythm flows throug his blood and in his soul. So cool.He's SO happy when he's playing the djembe, just the biggest smile spread across his face. La Hadt, Samba and Babacar are all gorgeous, I cant stop staring!
And then the highlight of the night : the repetition, where all the guys get together and jam on the djembe while the local girls dance . This goes on for nearly 2 hours, and I dont know how to describe it except that you have to see it for yourself. La Hadt is the leader of the circle, with about 8 drums. Samba is on the big drums, and the rest of the guys play the djembe. Ten hot sweaty Senegalese men banging on the drums, by the ocean, with the sun setting in the background - have I died and gone to heaven????
Then the girls start in formation and do their crazy African dance routine, banging their heads back and forth and shaking their arms, legs, asses as if none of their limbs are actually attached. My foot was stamping the whole time. The surroundings are amazing - behind us is a big old abandoned building , with the sea crashing up right behind us. We take fun jumpîng pictures and walk up to the top of the hill, where the sound of the drums is even louder .
Once the drumming rep is over, we chill out at Alfa's place, where I actually find a HAMMOCK! My life is complete. This island is officially paradise.

Alhamdoulilah

Sunday I go chez Sophie; Magueye's wife hands up her son Cheikh to bring along for the ride to Amadou's. SO funny how different kids are treated here than the States. Nahadi hands us her 5 yr old son to take on two car rapides through the downtown city- no American mum would ever do that ! A word about transportation in Dakar - first, there's the bus, which is pretty regular but always packed . A few times I've held on for dear life with half by body in the rinkydink bus, with one arm and one leg hanging out the door. Next, there's the car rapide -oh, these are an adventure. First, the cars remind me of the ones I saw in India - crappy and beat up twister pieces of metal that have four wheels and carry 15 people (and spew out a black diesel fume) . A teenage guy hangs off the back ledge of the car rapide and hisses at people to give them a ride. Mikaela has ridden on the back of one, I rode on the back for about 2 minutes before I got kicked out. The inside is adorned in pictures of Cheikh Amadou Bamba (like an African Gandhi) and various spiritual guides that the Senegalese adore . On the front of every car rapide is written ALHAMDOULILAH (also my favorite word to say) , which in Arabic means 'Peace to God'. Im getting quite good at the salutations here :
-Salaamalekum!
-Malekumsalaam, nga def ?
-Ca va bien, ca va ?
-Oui ca va ! Alhamdoulilahi!
There's an expression in French that says "You're going like a Senegalese" because chez les Senegalais, things are ALWAYS going well. Non ca va pas is never a response to How's it going?
Next are the taxis, which take forever because haggling the price in French is about half the journey.
And last but not least are the clandos, short for clandestine, short in English for SHADY. These are the non-marked cars that are cheaper than taxis, and way more sketchier. How do you know it's a clando? Look for the realllly crappy cars, wave em down, ask em where they're goin and hop on it.

Sophie and I discuss how happy and accepting people are, especially thanks to the Islamic influence. I love how proud everyone is here of their country, something that you would rarely find in France . Mamy says she only likes Senegalese food and that Sénégal is Paradise on Earth. They are very proud of their country and of Africa in general. Another thing I've noticed here is that Islam/ Muslims dont talk about HELL/L'ENFER the way Christians do. It's not a concept in Islam the way it is in Christianity, ESPECIALLY Catholocism. For exemple, El Hadji says if you hurt someone, God will punish you, not that you will go to hell. People do right here and pray a lot, not so that they won't go to hell, but to prove their love to God.

We go chez Amadou for a bit, where he shows us pictures of his family, half of which is in Europe playing the djembes. His big bro who taught him how to play the djembe is so cool-looking, with long dreads and a sweet accent.

Afterwards, I go to El Hadji's house, where I salute everyone with the casual greetings. The salutation with all these guys is tapping their hand on your forehead four times, as a sign of respect. And then we shout "Bégué!" which means happiness. El Haji makes mint tea, a process that takes over an hour . Magueye tells me that to make tea and drink tea, you cant be in a rush. This is true. El Hadj makes the best mint tea because he adds a bit of cardamom seeds to it and makes a lot of mousse on top.

On my way home, my Congolese friend Michel is there waiting for me . I have NO idea how he found my house, because I dont even know where it is in the maze of this city, but he's there and waiting ! He's an acquaintance I've made through my friend Bruno in Paris, who lived with Michel for several months. Michel comes from Brazzaville Congo and has been playing the big tam-tams his whole life. He has awesome dreads that reach down to his waist, and he is a true Rastafarian . The next night we make dinner at his place, (a true Rasta is vegetarian) and he tells me all about Congo Brazzaville, about the Rastafarian religion and his respect for Bob Marley.
Bob Marley is HUGE here in Africa - I've learned so much about him. We even celebrated his birthday the 11 may. Africans are obsessed with him, his music and his message. Even though he was Jamaican, he identified a lot with Africans and sang "Africa Unite!" . Michel is very wise and has a lot to give, but I think he might have lost a marble or two. I cant decide. He is deeply distrustful of the Senegalese, especially after living in Dakar for over 3 years. I find they are a people who are generous and friendly, whereas he sees them as jealous and cheating.
He tells me all about his travels around West Africa, playing Congo drums and do traditional dance . I would love to go see his corner of Africa one day. We talk about raising money to build a community center for street kids that teaches traditional drums and dance.

The Island of Gorée

The island of Gorée is a fantastic getaway from the chaos and noise of Dakar. When I think of Gorée, I think of paradise, or even a Caribbean island where the doors and windows are vibrantly painted, and are always open; the bouganvillea hanging off the sides of the multicolored houses. The darker side of Gorée is that it was a major station point in the Atlantic Slave Trade, and thousands of slaves stolen from West Africa passed through here on their brutal voyage to America in inhuman conditions. Gorée is teh keyhole to the African continent following the insatiable thirst for slaves during the 18th and 19th century following the European discoveries. When we checked out the slave house, El Hadj showed me tiny rooms where hundreds of slaves were stored, cramped and chained to the floor. I cant even begin to imagine how terrible the conditions were between the journey from the Congo, Nigeria, Guinée, to the storage house and the months spent at sea, only to arrive in America or the Caribbean to work your ass off as a slave hauling cane sugar. Built in 1786 by the Dutch, they say that out of the 20 million Africans stolen and sent as slaves, only 300 per year went through Gorée. El Hadj got so upset being in there, and for good reason. Except then he tells me that it's thanks to Cheikh Amadou Bamba that Africans arent slaves anymore, and its him who put an end to the slave trade...right. Can't argue with someone who is deeply religious though.
The door that opens from the storeroom to the sea represents the "voyage with no return" for African slaves that would never see their homeland again. The whole thing breaks my heart.
As for the rest of Gorée, it might be my idea of heaven on earth. It has a bit of Caribbean island feel to it, but when you think about the Caribbean's cultural origins- IT's AFRICAN!
The houses are red, yellow, with the bouganvillea overflowing over the sides in brilliant violet colors. Gorean artists post up their paintings, necklaces and African masks for all to see. We meander through the quiet streets where there are no roads, no cars, just serenity and harmony. The beach and port has a big jetti where Rasta and Baye Falls fish for carps rouges. Children play soccer while listening to MBALAX music played by a local DJ. Four guys sit on the rocks out by the beach and bang on djembes while singing chants about Islam . Dreadlocked (and hot) Senegalese guys chill out on the beach and play music.
We meander through the streets and up the hilll to see the statue of the two pirogues; symbolizing peace. AKSILEM ak JAMM - please feel welcome and come in peace .
I meet a local artist who shows me his work and how he paints the abstract canvas of African scenes. He has a funny little cap and quirky glasses, and is covered head to toe in PAINT ! He casually mentions that he'll give me a good price, but is not aggressive like those in Dakar . Ive noticed that everyone here is chill and relaxed. Im invited to several little boutiques to look at beautiful necklaces and fabrics. Good thing I left all my money at home or I would probably buy EVERYTHING
The island is not big, but there are a lot of tourists. Everywhere you ho, you hear the ocean waves. Its an island paradise. I love the image of the colorful laundry hanging out to dry; with the waves crashing up on the rocks . CEST TROP BEAU!
El Hadji and I eat lunch at a friendly restaurant where the owners are friendly as can be - the cook has the biggest smile I have ever seen; and his white crisp shirt sets off the beauty of his dark skin. Later on, we cross someone who is eating the local fruit here 'madd' and she doesnt hesitate in offering it to us strangers. Some kid later on asks us for some of our water, and El Hadji doesnt hesitate either in giving him half . I have a LOT to learn from the Senegalese about generosity and sharing what you've got. Mikala jokes that its funny I work in a savings bank because the Senegalase (or maybe West Africans) are the worst at saving money - cuz anything We chill out on the rocks by the sea for hours, watching the sun set and seeing the locals fish for their dinner. El Hadji goes swimming but Im not up for it this night. We share a lot of laughs throughout the day. AURA AND ANDREA - this one is for you girls: Ive started introducing myself as LULU because when I say 'Julia', they respond 'Chulian' . But they nail it when I say Lulu. So now El Hadj has nicknamed me 'LOLO" which, ironically, means big boobs in Wolof. Nice.

INSHALLAH

This means "If God wills it"- such as, see you tomorrow!, Inshallah. I have gotten quite used to saying it, along with "leggy leggy" which means "see you later" (and is probably my favorite word to say) . Another thing Ive noticed here is the immense generosity. Neighbors come and go through our house, asking for running water or ice cubes. Life is pretty normal here; people in Dakar are nearly as poor as the rest of West Africa- the world's poorest region . There is, at least, running water and sewage. That's saying a lot for West Africa. But people here nevertheless are friendly and happy . They dont rush and always take the time to say hello. There are two national sports here; football and wrestling, but we say that haggling is the third national sport because the Senegalese are vicious hagglers. I've picked up some skills in India and Morocco, but here, I am way out of my league.