Friday, June 5, 2015

My Sister’s Big Fat Senegalese Wedding

Today marks day number three in the festivities of my host-sister, Hawa’s, wedding.  Weddings here, much like in America, are quite the affair.  Distant relations and friends started arriving last week to spend time with our family and pay their respects to the village.  As with any celebration in Senegal, there has been ample greeting and visiting and lots and lots of food.  For people who live in such extreme poverty, it is also a chance to show off some of their wealth and share what they have with others. 

Like in America, all good wedding guests bring a gift. As my village hasn’t quite gotten to the stage of using gift registries yet, the most common thing to bring is a bucket or benoir and fabric for the bride to make clothes.  Counting the bride’s presents, a major part of the party, revealed that she received more than two hundred buckets and just as many swaths of fabric.  When I inquired what on earth she was supposed to do with so many buckets, someone explained that they will get passed on to her husband’s family.  Women in Senegal always move in to their husband’s family’s house after they are married and part of the party is usually loading all of the gifts (and the rest of the bride’s baggage) into a car and driving her, along with women from her village, to her new home.  As my sister is getting married to a man from the same village, we exchanged the car for a few helping hands to carry her baggage over to her new house.  In the coming weeks, her husband’s family will come to see the new bride and give the couple a blessing.  In exchange, the bride will pass on some of her gifts to show her respect to her new family (If you come pay your respects here, you can bet you’re walking away with a bucket). 
My friend, Aminata, dancing through a crowd to deliver her presents.  Gotta love that hat. 


                Another important part of any wedding is the clothes.  Yesterday, the bride showcased no less than three new outfits, all perfectly tailored and intricately embroidered.  All decent guests also bought themselves a new outfit (including yours truly) for the occasion and here, there are yet more similarities to American weddings.  Female guests grouped themselves according to relation to the bride and bought matching fabric with which to make their outfits (e.g. the bride’s closest friends all matched each other as did the neighbor’s from certain houses, as did the visiting aunts, and so on).  Along with bringing a nice gift, this is the most popular way to show your respect to the bride as well as showing off how much you can afford (certain types of fabric and embroidery patterns are more expensive than others and everybody knows what’s what) so in the next few days the most popular gossip is likely to be about what people were wearing at the wedding. 
The bride and I in our new threads


                No wedding would be complete without food, and lots of it.  The next time you hear a bride lamenting about choosing the menu for her reception, feel free to remind her that weddings here last three days and the participating families are expected to provide all three meals (or more) for all of their guests, those from our village and the ones who came from out of town.  And, as you can imagine, without electricity or gas, cooking for such a large crowd is quite the ordeal.  How women here manage it in such spectacular fashion is still a mystery to me.  Yet, by 10:30 yesterday morning, I had already been offered three meals (and to my credit, only accepted two of them).  I wish I had exact numbers but I would guess that in the past three days my family has cooked close to 75 kilograms of onions, 100 Kg of rice, 50 Kg of millet, 25 Kg of Vermicelli pasta (a rare treat), more than a full cow, and 75 liters of oil. 

                Weddings here happen in multiple stages.  This round is merely the party.  A smaller religious ceremony that accompanied the negotiations and agreements between the two families actually happened a few years ago but as with many things in Senegal, the party had to wait until there was enough money to host it.  Unfortunately, this means that the party can come at an extremely inconvenient time, this case being a prime example since my sister’s groom is out of the country working. This is probably the hardest thing for me to wrap my head around about weddings here.  I understand waiting for the money but having a wedding party without a groom (or the religious ceremony without the bride present, which I have also seen) is a totally foreign concept. 

                I’ve learned a lot over the past few days since there wasn’t very much for me to do except sit and observe what was going on around me.  I mostly hung out with the cooks since that is where I could be most out of the way but people were also extremely excited to show off some of their traditions to me as well as show me off to some guests (you still get a lot of funny looks when you’re the only white guy who can speak Pulaar).  People especially liked to call me over when the music came on.  This wedding had a combination of a DJ with massive speakers (run painfully loudly from a generator) and the more traditional drummers and violinists that appeal a little more to the older generation.  But no matter what music comes on, you can find someone dancing.  During the day, the older women will get up from under their shady spots and dance around more than they seemed capable but the music goes late into the night when it’s a younger person’s affair.  Married women will dance separately from the men to preserve their integrity but a quick glance over and you’ll see more booty shaking than you might expect of married women in a conservative Muslim society.  The younger, single men are also happy to make an appearance since this is one of the few times that there are many visitors around on whom they might make a good impression.  I’m told that until the sun came up, people could be found dancing.  Even my usual bedtime of 9pm was pushed back to a whopping 11 o’clock so that I could partake in the festivities. 


Women from my village drumming on metal bowls and dancing to greet the bride

                All told, this was definitely one of the best weddings I have been to in Senegal.  But, thankfully, my dancing days aren’t over yet.  The next few weeks are sure to see a handful more weddings as people rush to celebrate and binge before Ramadan sets in in a few weeks.  Sorry about the long post but it’s the first one in quite some time so hopefully that makes up for it.  Happy trails!


Sunday, January 11, 2015

I Want to Ride my Bicycle

If many of my friends and family came to Senegal and saw me in my day to day life, one of the biggest surprises would probably be the amount I ride a bike.  Before coming to Senegal, I don’t think I had successfully ridden a bike in more than ten years.  Every time I tried, I fell or crashed.  I never had serious injuries but it was serious enough to deter me from trying again any time soon.

While I was preparing, it was one of the things I was most worried about.  Peace Corps told me that all volunteers are issued bikes and that it may be necessary to bike long distances to see other volunteers, get to markets in larger towns, and to access public transportation routes throughout the country.  But I didn’t heed any warnings to practice biking a bit before I got here… I mean those dozen trips to REI were way more important to prepare me for Peace Corps, right?

Like many other things about living in Senegal, I have discovered that when faced with a difficulty in your living situation, all you need is a little time to practice and mentally prepare.  This has been true of living without electricity and running water, living in a place where no one speaks English, and especially biking.  My village is 7KM (4.35 Miles) away from the closest market.  I am also about 7KM from the closest Peace Corps Volunteer.  It was clear very quickly that if I didn’t get over my hesitations about biking that I was going to have a very difficult service. 

Since then, I have come a long way.  I recently completed a bike trip with another volunteer that was part of a large regional project.  We were visiting remote villages in order to make a map of all the places where someone in our health district can receive testing and treatment for malaria.  The idea is to show where there might be gaps in available treatment so that the Senegalese government’s malaria program can train and place volunteers more strategically.  It was a really fantastic trip and we traveled to more than a dozen villages in just a couple of days.  Each day we biked about 50KM (31 Miles) in order to see all the villages we needed to.  I can’t imagine missing out on the opportunity to be part of such a cool project just because I was afraid to mount a bike! 

Don’t get me wrong.  I still have my difficult days on the bike.  I’ve fallen more than a few times.  In the hot season, the sand still makes biking incredible difficult and in the rainy season, avoiding deep puddles can be next to impossible.  Bike maintenance is still incredibly intimidating to me (although I can pretty confidently change a tire now) but I’m learning. 

 Now, if I go more than two or three days without getting on my bike to go somewhere, I get antsy.  It’s my best and most convenient form of regular transportation and I will hopefully have the opportunity to do some extended bike traveling through Senegal and the Gambia in the coming months.  More than that, biking represents some of the adaptability and resilience that I have developed since being a Peace Corps Volunteer.  Every time I gear up for a trip (pun intended), I remember just how much I’ve changed and I think about how great it is to push my limits to discover what I am really capable of and what really makes me happy. 

Wishing everyone a happy and healthy 2015!  Thanks to everyone who sent things with my mom and my sister to give me.  Belated birthday and new year‘s packages will still be accepted J


Happy (bike) Trails!