I went to the beach today with my host sister, Corine, her fiancée, Michel, her friend, Ellen, Ellen’s husband, Amadou, and my friend Caroline. Here is what I learned at the beach (because every moment is a learning opportunity):
Senegalese people are intense. In many different ways, both good and bad, both heartening and distressing, both understood and misunderstood.
They are intense in their hospitality. They feel a duty to welcome others, which is taken very intensely. Many families and groups of people sitting around us on the beach had brought all of the fixings to eat ‘around the bowl’. And each time a group sat down together to eat their food, they invited us to take a seat at the bowl and share food with them. They are intense in their hospitality.
They are intense in their kindness. My host sister thought I would want to go to the beach, so planned for us to go. My host sister thought I might want to spend some time with other Senegalese people, so invited her fiancée and friends. My host sister thought I might like a friend of my own there, so invited Caroline to join us. My host sister thought I might not like the huge crowds, so made sure we arrived with plenty of time to swim in the calmer waters. My host sister wanted to make sure we had a good day, so brought three bags full of food and drink. My host sister wanted to make sure I didn’t burn, so made sure we sat under a large palm tree and moved our mats each time the sun shifted. My host sister wanted me to be a part of the conversation, so attempted to keep the language French and translated for me when the group slid back into Wolof. They are intense in their kindness.
They are intense in their teasing and making fun. Ellie spent thirty minutes attempting to convince Caroline and I that Senegalese men make the best husbands and that her single older brothers (in their 30s) would be good for us and that their age didn’t matter. The conversation ended with “I’m only joking of course. But if you’re interested, let me know.” They are intense in their teasing and making fun.
They (the men) are intense in their harassment and objectification of women. At one point while swimming on the crowded beach, I told Caroline I wished the middle finger translated in Senegal. I rarely use this gesture in the US… usually only when my passive aggressive road rage turns aggressive. But here, when multiple men attempt to take pictures while posing behind us in the water or when my body and appearance gets yelled about as I walk down the road to school or when another woman’s husband jokes about wanting to make me his second wife or when men hiss at you or your host sister as you walk into a store, I wish the middle finger translated in Senegal. They (the men) are intense in their harassment and objectification of women.
They are intense in their desire to make sure one is well taken care of. I was asked constantly throughout the day: c’est bon? Tu es contente? My Pappa called midway through the day to ask the same, as did everyone we passed on our way home… all wanting to make sure all was well and the day was passed well. They are intense in their desire to make sure one is well taken care of.
They are intense in their devotion to family and community. They are intense in their laughter and celebration. They are intense in their love of and skills at dancing. They are intense in their views of the role and place of men and women, husbands and wives. They are intense in their caring. They are intense in their insistence to fatten their guests. They are intense in their questions and curiosity. They are intense in their sharing of everything.
This was my experience. This is what I observed and witnessed and lived in. This is what I felt.
But what do I know, really? I’ve only spent one day at the beach.
callie daniels-howell 