Hi everyone! I hope this post finds everyone in good health and spirits. It's been a while since I've posted anything on here and I figured I should post something just as proof that I haven't fallen of the face of the earth.
As you all know, I was in America from the end of April to the beginning of June. I wish my visit could have been under happier circumstances, but I was still happy to get to do some fun things and see much missed family and friends.
It was pretty surreal being home. I mean, I had been totally immersed in Senegalese culture and was thus in various stages of shock at being suddenly thrust back into America. I stayed with my mom and marveled at how easy life seemed with round-the-clock electricity and all the water and television I could want. Even though Oklahoma in May gets decently hot and humid, no one seemed to smell. I took sightseeing tours of supermarkets, oohing and aahing my way up and down the aisles after more than a year of deprivation. It seemed both normal and unreal to transition back to life in America and all its urban-sprawling, soul-killing efficiency. It was great to sleep in my amazingly comfortable bed, but I oddly missed going to bed when the stars were clear above my stick bed and waking up to a rooster crowing, often while staring right at me about 2 inches from my mosquito net. At the end of the day, regardless of the unexpected news that sent me back to Tulsa so abruptly, I was so very happy to be able to attend Ashley and Amanda's wedding.
After more than 2 months of being out of my village, it was great to get back. I think they were shocked that I actually came back, but I guess I can't really blame them for that. As soon as one person from the village saw me approaching on my bike, everyone ran out to the bush path to greet me with, "Bintaje arii!!" (Binta came!) over and over again. Binta is my name and Bintaje is a term of endearment that they always use whenever I return to the village, even if I just left for the day. Given that I had been gone for a considerably longer time, everyone came out to greet me, some women danced, and everyone greeted me in the most heartwarming way. Every person that greeted me made sure to say, "Yo Allah yaafi Allah yurmi," which means, "may God forgive him and comfort him." They all knew that my dad had passed away, and I really appreciated their sincere blessings. At the risk of sounding too Koombaya, I truly felt that I had finally come home. I just am so lucky to have been placed in Kountanto (my village). I honestly feel at home when I'm in the village, because it's not just this place that I happen to live and work in; it's my home. I really love the people there and I'm fairly certain the feeling is mutual, which is certainly far from the situation with certain "family" members of mine in America. My family in Kountanto knows more about family- love, compassion, respect, generosity, ect- than several people who, as the result of what can best be called a technicality, I happen to share DNA and a last name with.
I showed everyone pictures I had brought back from Ashley and Amanda's wedding and they were very impressed. Senegalese people LOVE pictures. There's a whole routine that goes along with how they view pictures: First, they touch the people's faces in the picture. They then point to each person and start by asking if the person in question is me. It's so funny because more often than not, they are pointing to a man when they ask. It was borderline acceptable when they would do that to pictures of Michael and I because all of the pictures I have of us are of me with long hair and Michael with, well, Michael hair. You just do not see men with shaggy hair here, so I guess it threw them off to see such pretty hair on a man. Anyway, after they figure out which one is me, they ask who everyone else is, in terms of familial relationship. Pulaar's have ridiculously huge families, and I am constantly getting introduced to "my sister's dad's second wife's niece" or something equally mind boggling. As I've said, I have a tiny family in America, so when we get into "second cousin once removed" terrority, especially in another language, my eyes start to glaze over. Very early on I realized that it would save me time and confusion to just tune out when anyone explains their relationship to anyone, least of all me. I just have a quick daydream, wait for them to finish, then say, "Ohhh, I get it now" and then aknowledge that this person is family. Anyway, so when they asked me who, say, John, my dad's sister's husband, was, I mumbled some indiscipherable Pulaar and then just said, "you know, family." They had some pretty funny comments about the pictures that I certainly found amusing and think that the involved parties might get a laugh out of:
-picture of Ashley, Amanda, Brenda, Bill, mom, and I : after I had just explained who everyone was and how we are related, one of my host sister's points to Amanda, who she clearly identified as the bride, and then to John and asks me, "is that your brother?" Geez.
-solo picture of Ashley and Amanda: "He doesn't have any hair! Just like [controversial Senegalese President who changed election laws so that he could, in theory, stay President until he dies] Abdoulaye Wade" to which I respond, "yes, exactly the same as Abdoulaye Wade." They then looked at his clothes and said, "wow, your brother is patron (rich)." I got a good laugh out of that.
-picture of Flowers and I: I found myself having the exact same conversation with one of my host brothers as I had with so many people, most notably Amanda's mom, at the wedding:
"Who is that?"
"My friend Matthew"
"Just a friend?"
"That's what I said"
"But maybe in a few years....you know...he could be your husband"
-One of my friends told me that my dress was very pretty and then asked if I brought it back to the village. I told her that no, I didn't bring it to the village because it is just a little to risque, showing my scandalous knees and all. I asked her what she thought people would do if I ever wore that dress in the village, and she matter-of-factly answered, "they would probably cry." She said it completely straight faced and without any sarcasm. She really meant it, and that makes me laugh a lot.
-I'm fairly certain that at one point someone pointed out my mom and identified her as my brother's wife. Now that's just weird.
Anyway, that covers the high points. The link to my pictures from the wedding is here:
Enjoy!
1 comment:
So glad to hear that after all we have been through, my first appearence in your blog is a "hair" reference. I miss you amber and hope that you are doing well.
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