Fun in the garden

I did germination tests on the seed farmers returned to me for the improved seed extension program we (ag Peace Corps Volunteers) do here in Senegal and, instead of just tossing the germinated plants away and wasting the seed, I decided to make a demonstration plot of an improved technique of intercropping in the garden of the guys that I’m helping. In order to bring the plants to the garden, I asked the older kids in my family and their friends to help me – so we put the pots of plants in a few wheel barrows, which they took turns pushing, and, since we only had 3 wheel barrows but four pans full of pots and since I was the oldest among us and therefore the strongest (though that’s debatable), I carried a pan on my head (like a true Senegalese woman, sort of).


And then when we got to the garden, the kids had fun like only kids know how to do. They goofed around with twirling a stick, jumping on each other, and doing karate – as well as drinking from the well (we were all very thirsty, but the water was clearly very dirty [since the wells in their garden are literally just holes in the ground, and not lined with cement like most wells, because the water table there is so low] so I didn’t even think about drinking from it; only a couple of the guys did drink from it).

I spent that day and the next day transplanting the crops (corn, cowpeas, sorghum, and rice) with the guys who work in the garden (not these kids). Then the third day, after we had spent the morning watering, weeding, and gathering manure to apply the crops and make compost with, I wanted to take a picture of the guys with the transplanted crops – and Mohammet (the jokester I talked about at the end of my Gamou post) immediately starting joking around and pretending to kick Gallo (who is the oldest guy working in the garden, and usually quite serious, though he definitely knows how to joke around and have fun, and he loves teasing Mohammet, just like an older brother would tease his younger brother), while the other guys (from left to right in the back: Ali, Tomsir, and El Hadj) just watched on and laughed.

Tafa and Koumba’s Wedding!

Last week my counterpart in the village, Moustafa (Tafa for short) got married to his second wife, Koumba. Well, technically they’ve been married for several months now but in this culture they have their religious ceremony in the mosque to become officially married (neither the bride nor groom actually needs to be present for that – either or both could just send a representative in their place instead), and then they have a second ceremony for when the wife officially moves to her husband’s compound. This ceremony can immediately after the religious ceremony or delayed for months or even years depending on the situation. This second ceremony can be incredibly elaborate, or very simple (like an American wedding can be), depending on the bride and groom’s desires, and on the groom’s financial situation since he is the one who pays for everything, as is the standard in Senegal – the husband is supposed to supply all the money for all the family’s needs and any money the wife makes or gets (from relatives working in Dakar or abroad, for example) is used how she desires (often to buy things for her kids and herself, but almost always not shared with her husband). I’m sure Tafa has been saving up for this ceremony for many many months.

The night before the wedding, a bunch of women and girls gathered in Tafa’s compound and the women made music (like in the first video – by banging on big metal bowls and singing) and danced almost all night. I only stayed for a while, because I knew I had to do some work the next morning and didn’t want to be super tired in the afternoon during the afternoon festivities. We had a nice lunch of rice and meat late in the afternoon - it takes the women that long to cook the lunch when they're cooking for well over 100 people. The bride, Koumba, got to the compound really early that morning – I think right before the first call to prayer in the morning, around 5am. Koumba spent most of the morning at the “salon” in Kayemor (nothing at all like an American salon, but I guess that’s a given) and the other women cooked lunch and sang/danced, while the men just hung out and drank tea. Then Koumba came back to the compound mid-afternoon (which is the second video below) and went around greeting all the women in the compound, which took a while. Then the dancing commenced…and continued until the evening prayer around 7:30pm.

Here are a bunch of pics from the afternoon/evening.

I LOVE these boys!!! The boy in the yellow t-shirt and blue sandals is my youngest brother and sooooooo cute. The boy in white is the same boy as in the pic just above (he went home and changed into his nice clothes after lunch).

Some of the guys just chillin' off to the side while the women are dancing.

Me with my cousin, Awa (she is the step-daughter of my uncle).

The first bit of dancing before Koumba arrives.



The first bit of this is when Sanu, Tafa’s first wife, is welcoming Koumba, then she begins to go around meeting all the women in the compound and family (even if they don’t actually live in the compound).



The women dancing in this clip are really pulling up their skirts to show the skirt below, which is similar to a garter (only all the women wear it) or Senegalese lingerie. The next part of the clip is my mom trying to get me to move to a spot closer to all the dancing so I could film better, and them me actually moving there.

Tafa and Koumba's Wedding (continued)

Here are a bunch of videos that I took with my camera throughout the celebration. Sorry some of them are blurry - not sure what happened...

Souckeye (my host mom) dancing, and then Kumba dancing. The blue netting that you can see when Koumba pulls apart her skirt ao bit is what all the women have (in some form or another) underneath their skirts. I think the American equivalent is the garter (but all the women wear it all the time when they have dancing parties, not just the bride for her wedding).


Koumba dancing


Koumba dancing again


The woman that the woman in white is pushing around about a quarter of the way through the clip is my aunt; she’s several months pregnant (with her fourth child) but can still really move!


The first girl dancing in this clip is my friend Yassa. In the next section of the clip, the woman in yellow is dancing so well that a woman gives her 2 mille (about 4 dollars), which she proudly holds up to show everyone else. Giving money to someone dancing is a way to show that you think her dancing is really great – it is not uncommon, but usually the women just joke around and toss a coin purse to the woman or a shawl or a cell phone (which is what happens later in the clip).


A bunch of the girls dancing in this clip are in "my" girls group.

Mothers are the same everywhere

The other day I went to visit one of my host mom’s good friends because she had been sick. When we were there, they started talking about their (and other) kids, just like all mom’s do. I started laughing when my host mom started talking about her stepson (my host father’s oldest son, with a different wife, who is studying at the University of Dakar but came home for the Gamou celebration) because she sounded exactly like how my mom used to talk about my brother when he was in college – about how he should cut his hair and tuck his shirt in and not stay up so late with friends. Moms are apparently the same everywhere – and I guess I could expand that generalization and say that young men in college are the same, too. :)

Gamou Gi

On April 24 the marabou in Kayemor, Serignee Cheikh Mouhamadou Lamine Djim Ndiaye, had his big, annual religious meeting: Gamou Gi. (“Gi” is a form of “the” in Wolof, and “the” always comes after the noun it is describing in Wolof.) He holds it to celebrate Muhammad (the main Islamic prophet) and his father. Serigne Djim killed 15 cows and gave a bunch of sheep and chickens to tons of people. People come to Kayemor from all other Senegal and West Africa for the Gamou.

Here is the invitation my friend Tomsir (who I tutor in English) gave me for the Gamou. I don’t know who wrote it in English, but I’m almost certain Tomsir didn’t because his English isn’t good enough to write an invitation like this. I’m also sure they had other invitations in French since French is the official language of Senegal and many other West African countries. I’m also not sure who they send the invitations to…they probably just send them to a few select people and everyone else learns about it through word of mouth.

Here is a picture of Serigne Djim in the room where people come to visit him and ask for advice and/or prayers.

Here is a picture of all the people waiting outside the room to see him. The police were there to make sure nothing got out of hand.

As I’ve said before, Tomsir is a Talibe of Serigne Djim so he invited me to spend the day at Serigne Djim’s house. I went to his house in mid-morning and helped the women cook lunch, which was delicious. Since there were so many people at Serigne Djim’s house, as well as in Kayemor in general, there were tons of women cooking – hence all the big pots for cooking vegetables, eggs, meat, and rice.

This meal, called ceebu yapp (rice and meat), is probably one of my favorites (except the meat part since everyone always get such a tiny amount, maybe a few bites of meat if you’re lucky, that I would rather have my family/any else buy fish since then I can normally get numerous bites of fish.

In the evening, Serigne Djim left his house and went to the center of Kayemor where there was a big tent set up and tons of chairs for a “conference.” I filmed this while I was waiting with my friend Yassa at Serigne Djim's compound for him to go to the conference. You can hear the men are chanting something in Arabic.

I’m not exactly sure what they talked about at the conference, but tons of people were there – including tons of policemen and Senegalese Red Cross workers.

The volunteers wore shirts that had a picture of Serigne Djim on the front (as you can kind of see from the guy on the right in the first picture below) and a picture of another famous marabou who lives in Kaolack, Baye Niasse (i.e. Father Niasse; “Baye” is “Father” in Wolof), on the back (as you can clearly see from the guy on the left in the two pictures below).

There was a big poster above the “stage” that was written in Arabic and said (more or less) “I [Serigne Djim] greet the people of Kayemor, by your first and last names. Welcome to the Gamou.”

This is a great (random) picture of my friend Muhammad (like the prophet) with a baby (no idea whose; not his) on the Gamou. This guy is probably the biggest jokester I know – he makes me start laughing right away when we’re just greeting each other because of his body language and goofy facial expressions. He often has the same affect on others, including the marabou.