Baptisms…
….are a lot like other Senegalese holidays. However, my host sister (who is also one of my best friends at site) gave birth a few weeks ago, so the baptism for her baby girl will stand out in my mind more than others.
It all started when I was in Dakar for W.A.I.S.T., the West African Invitational Softball Tournament. I wrote about WAIST last year I think, but it’s an annual tournament in Dakar over President’s Day weekend and it’s pretty much the most fun weekend of the year. Anyway, I knew my sister was about to pop any day, so before I left for Dakar I told her not to give birth until I got back. She didn’t listen. One of the days at the tournament I looked at my phone and Ihad 5 missed calls from my host sister. At first I was kinda like good lord what could she possibly want, then I realized that she’d probably had her kid. I was right!
I got back to site the day before the baptisms. When I walked into my compound it was cute because before we even did the standard greetings my family said "go see the baby!" Everybody seemed a bit on the tired side, but happy to have a new addition to the family. I’m not really sure what newborns are supposed to look like, but she looked pretty normal to me! It turns out that the baby has the same name as me, Aissata. They call her "Azzie" though, which is a common nickname for Aissata. It also turns out that my sister was in labor from Wednesday to Saturday! Ugh! I can’t imagine.
The next day was the baptism, and the actual ceremonial part happened in the morning. In fact, I almost missed it. A bunch of older dudes came over around 8ish, sat in a circle for a while and then left. I’m not really sure what happened exactly, but I do know that it’s more of a naming ceremony than a christening type thing. One of the dudes was the marabout (religious leader) who leads the ceremony, and he’s also the one responsible for officially giving the name. They also shaved the baby’s head. I took one picture of the dudes sitting around in a circle, then before I knew it they were up and gone!
The rest of the day was just party time. My sister got all done up in fancy Senegalese clothes and sat in her room all day, and received guests. People (mostly women) would come in her room, greet, ask the baby’s name, give my sister some change or gift (usually soap), and then maybe give the baby a little blessing. Tons of people were in and out of her room all day. After people greeted my sister they would go and sit outside and hang out.
My other host sister and tons of neighbors came over and were busy preparing ridiculous amounts of rice for lunch. It was quite an operation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a massive amount of cooked rice in one place. It was pretty amazing. It’s also what they were most proud of and most excited about. My friend took my camera at one point and took a bunch of pictures. When she was showing people later the pictures she’d taken, they were most interested in the pictures she took of the food!
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but names are really important here. When someone has the same name as you (which is a pretty frequent occurrence, considering there’s about 8 names in my whole town….I exaggerate, but really there’s not much variety), you are that person’s "tokorone," or namesake. Oftentimes if you see a friend who has your same name, you might not even say the name you would just call them "tokorone." It’s kinda funny. It’d be like a person named Sarah seeing another friend named Sarah and saying "heyyyy namesake, how’s things?" Anyway. Since the baby has the same name as me everybody kept asking me if I’d seen my namesake that day, or if I’d given my namesake any clothes yet. Even now when I’m out and about and I see a friend of the family, they will ask me how my namesake is doing. It’s kinda cool.
It’s also interesting seeing how they take care of their newborns differently. One day I was holding baby Aissata and I got up and started to leave (just to walk around with her a bit). I don’t know where my host sister was, but a neighbor was in the room with me, and she asked where I was going. I told her I was just going to go walk around a bit. She said, "uhhhh don’t do that." I asked her why, and she said that they don’t take the babies out at all. I was kinda confused, but I figured I should respect the way they do things…so I sat down again. When my sister came back in the room my neighbor told my sister that I wanted to take the baby out, and they both laughed like it was one of the crazier ideas they’d ever heard. Ha ha ha. Silly toubab wants to show the baby someplace other than this one little room. Is she ever gonna learn? Yep, I’m crazy allright! Can’t imagine why I wouldn’t want to sit in the same room day in and day out. And they pretty much do stay in the same room…the baby (and my sister for the most part) stays in my sister’s room all day, then my sister takes her to a bigger common room at night where they all sleep.
Going along with the baby not leaving the room thing…the other day my sister had her hair braided in a really traditional way. I’d never seen her (or anyone in my family) with her hair braided in this particular fashion. It’s very Pulaar. The only women I’ve seen with braids in this particular fashion are the super duper rural Pulaars. The name city folk give these rural people is "kaw kaw." It’s kindof an insult to be called a kaw kaw, but only in the way it would be insulting for a city person in America to be called a redneck. It’s kind of a joke. Anyway, I asked who braided her hair, and she laughed. She could tell I was confused/amused at her hair-do. She told me that when you give birth you get your hair braided in this traditional, kaw kaw way once a week for 3-4 weeks. After the third of fourth time that you get your hair braided, it’s time to take the baby out. I think it’s more complicated than that, though. I overheard my sister and her friend talking about it yesterday. I didn’t completely understand what they were saying, but I’m pretty sure they were talking about different ways to braid hair and which ways were good luck after you’ve had a baby and which ones were bad luck!
The superstitions might seem kind of dumb to Americans, but it’s the kind of thing I love about Pulaar culture and being a Peace Corps volunteer! Getting your hair braided in a traditional fashion after giving birth isn’t exactly a cultural aspect that jumps out at you when you walk off a plane, but it’s the kind of thing I get to see and learn by living here. Yay for cultural exchange.
It works both ways, too. Having the baby around prompts lots of questions about babies in America. For example, I was snapping my fingers in front of the baby’s face to see if she could focus on where the sound was coming from. My sister noticed me doing it and told me that babies in Senegal didn’t really see until about 2 weeks after they were born. Not having been around newborns much, I didn’t really know how true that statement was, so I just gave her a blank stare. She realized that her statement wasn’t really computing with me, so she asked "do babies in America see?" Ha. I didn’t really know how to respond, and I can’t even explain why that is such a funny question. But it is. I know that newborns still have a lot to develop, but when she asked me that question I kinda wanted to give her a smart response back, like "yeah, they poop too. Do Senegalese babies poop?" But I didn’t. Instead I confused myself about whether or not American babies can see. Sigh. Sometimes I think I’ve gotten way dumber since I’ve been here. Maybe it’s not so much of a cultural exchange as Senegalese culture entering one side of my brain and slowly pushing out all things I knew about America. A cultural slide. I’m slowly sliding…..
But then something else will happen that will bring me back to the western word, which bring me to my….
Random [western influence in] Africa Moment
Recently there were 20 French toubabs in my town, but that’s not my random western influence in Africa moment. It was kinda weird having them here…I’m not used to seeing other white people. Plus, it’s always weird seeing other toubabs here, because whatever you do it’s awkward. If you see another toubab you don’t know and you say hi, you both know that you’re both only saying hi because you’re white. That’s kinda weird. But then if you don’t say hi it’s weird because then you’re both avoiding the fact that it’s abnormal to have white people in this part of the world.
Anyway, I had no idea that this group of Frenchies were coming. The first day they got here all the kids were running up to me and saying "Aissata! Aissata! Did you see your "koreeji?" (koreeji means family). I eventually went to the house where they were all staying and introduced myself. Turns out they’re a group of nursing students, and they stayed here for 3 weeks to do health related work.
It got kind of annoying because literally everyday several people would come up to me and ask if I’d greeted my koreeji that day. Sometimes I’d just say yes, but if I was in an argumentative move I’d say "they’re not my koreeji!" Whenever I said that people would get really confused until I explained that I’m American and they’re French. Some people would say "ohhhh" and let it go. Some people, however, would persist that we were still family! That really bugged me. One night I got into a discussion about it with this one dude, Mamadou, who’s always trying to get into annoying discussions with me. I asked him if all black people were his family just because they were black. He kinda said yes, but was a little hesitant. Then I asked him, "if a group of Kenyans came to Senegal would you consider them your family?!?" There were a couple other people in the room at the time and when I asked that question they all got quiet. Then, Mamadou finally conceded that he in fact would NOT consider Kenyans his family just because they’re black. Everybody went "oooooo!!" Aissata got you! Ha! It was a good feeling. I’d won a discussion in Pulaar! Then after that if someone who present during my discussion with Mamadou was around when people asked me if I’d greeted my family that day, they would tell the story about how I’d told Mamadou whats’up!!
Anyway, towards the end of the Frenchies’ stay, the director of their program stayed at my house for a couple of nights. As a thank you gift, she gave my host mom a bag of goodies. Not being able to read, my sisters were going through the bag but didn’t know what anything was. They called me over and asked me what everything was. They were all sample size packets, so I picked up the first one and tried to read the small print. My sisters were crowded around excitedly asking: "Aissata Aissata what is it? Is it lotion?" I finally found the English on the packet. It said "Firming Body Concentrate." So I said yeah, that’s lotion. I picked up the next one. "Ultimate Hydrating Revitilizer."
My sisters: "What’s that one? Lotion?"
Me: ultimate hydrating revilitzer…hmmm..how do I say tat in Pulaar. Oh wait. Yeah that’s lotion.
My sisters: What’s this one?
Me: reading the next label, ‘hydrating gel mask’…translation to Pulaar…Lotion.
My sisters: Is this one lotion too?
Me: next label: Intense moisture boost. Yep, that’s lotion too.
My sisters: All the packages are different, how is it possible they’re all lotion?
Me: I wish my language teacher was here, then he could tell me how to say "Cream with Grape Polyphends and Nutrients" in Pulaar. He’s not here though, so I’m gonna go with…lotion. Yeah, they’re all lotion I think.
My sisters: Please tell me this one isn’t lotion, I’m getting bored.
Me: Good lord! "Body Balm – lipid restoring, anti-irritant body care severe skin dryness/cutaneous irritation???" Seriously? Why is this necessary? But riiiight, people in Europe/America probably wouldn’t buy this unless it sounded fancy and high tech. Still so ludicrous in this context!! But all I can say is: Yup, that one is lotion, too.
….are a lot like other Senegalese holidays. However, my host sister (who is also one of my best friends at site) gave birth a few weeks ago, so the baptism for her baby girl will stand out in my mind more than others.
It all started when I was in Dakar for W.A.I.S.T., the West African Invitational Softball Tournament. I wrote about WAIST last year I think, but it’s an annual tournament in Dakar over President’s Day weekend and it’s pretty much the most fun weekend of the year. Anyway, I knew my sister was about to pop any day, so before I left for Dakar I told her not to give birth until I got back. She didn’t listen. One of the days at the tournament I looked at my phone and Ihad 5 missed calls from my host sister. At first I was kinda like good lord what could she possibly want, then I realized that she’d probably had her kid. I was right!
I got back to site the day before the baptisms. When I walked into my compound it was cute because before we even did the standard greetings my family said "go see the baby!" Everybody seemed a bit on the tired side, but happy to have a new addition to the family. I’m not really sure what newborns are supposed to look like, but she looked pretty normal to me! It turns out that the baby has the same name as me, Aissata. They call her "Azzie" though, which is a common nickname for Aissata. It also turns out that my sister was in labor from Wednesday to Saturday! Ugh! I can’t imagine.
The next day was the baptism, and the actual ceremonial part happened in the morning. In fact, I almost missed it. A bunch of older dudes came over around 8ish, sat in a circle for a while and then left. I’m not really sure what happened exactly, but I do know that it’s more of a naming ceremony than a christening type thing. One of the dudes was the marabout (religious leader) who leads the ceremony, and he’s also the one responsible for officially giving the name. They also shaved the baby’s head. I took one picture of the dudes sitting around in a circle, then before I knew it they were up and gone!
The rest of the day was just party time. My sister got all done up in fancy Senegalese clothes and sat in her room all day, and received guests. People (mostly women) would come in her room, greet, ask the baby’s name, give my sister some change or gift (usually soap), and then maybe give the baby a little blessing. Tons of people were in and out of her room all day. After people greeted my sister they would go and sit outside and hang out.
My other host sister and tons of neighbors came over and were busy preparing ridiculous amounts of rice for lunch. It was quite an operation. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a massive amount of cooked rice in one place. It was pretty amazing. It’s also what they were most proud of and most excited about. My friend took my camera at one point and took a bunch of pictures. When she was showing people later the pictures she’d taken, they were most interested in the pictures she took of the food!
I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but names are really important here. When someone has the same name as you (which is a pretty frequent occurrence, considering there’s about 8 names in my whole town….I exaggerate, but really there’s not much variety), you are that person’s "tokorone," or namesake. Oftentimes if you see a friend who has your same name, you might not even say the name you would just call them "tokorone." It’s kinda funny. It’d be like a person named Sarah seeing another friend named Sarah and saying "heyyyy namesake, how’s things?" Anyway. Since the baby has the same name as me everybody kept asking me if I’d seen my namesake that day, or if I’d given my namesake any clothes yet. Even now when I’m out and about and I see a friend of the family, they will ask me how my namesake is doing. It’s kinda cool.
It’s also interesting seeing how they take care of their newborns differently. One day I was holding baby Aissata and I got up and started to leave (just to walk around with her a bit). I don’t know where my host sister was, but a neighbor was in the room with me, and she asked where I was going. I told her I was just going to go walk around a bit. She said, "uhhhh don’t do that." I asked her why, and she said that they don’t take the babies out at all. I was kinda confused, but I figured I should respect the way they do things…so I sat down again. When my sister came back in the room my neighbor told my sister that I wanted to take the baby out, and they both laughed like it was one of the crazier ideas they’d ever heard. Ha ha ha. Silly toubab wants to show the baby someplace other than this one little room. Is she ever gonna learn? Yep, I’m crazy allright! Can’t imagine why I wouldn’t want to sit in the same room day in and day out. And they pretty much do stay in the same room…the baby (and my sister for the most part) stays in my sister’s room all day, then my sister takes her to a bigger common room at night where they all sleep.
Going along with the baby not leaving the room thing…the other day my sister had her hair braided in a really traditional way. I’d never seen her (or anyone in my family) with her hair braided in this particular fashion. It’s very Pulaar. The only women I’ve seen with braids in this particular fashion are the super duper rural Pulaars. The name city folk give these rural people is "kaw kaw." It’s kindof an insult to be called a kaw kaw, but only in the way it would be insulting for a city person in America to be called a redneck. It’s kind of a joke. Anyway, I asked who braided her hair, and she laughed. She could tell I was confused/amused at her hair-do. She told me that when you give birth you get your hair braided in this traditional, kaw kaw way once a week for 3-4 weeks. After the third of fourth time that you get your hair braided, it’s time to take the baby out. I think it’s more complicated than that, though. I overheard my sister and her friend talking about it yesterday. I didn’t completely understand what they were saying, but I’m pretty sure they were talking about different ways to braid hair and which ways were good luck after you’ve had a baby and which ones were bad luck!
The superstitions might seem kind of dumb to Americans, but it’s the kind of thing I love about Pulaar culture and being a Peace Corps volunteer! Getting your hair braided in a traditional fashion after giving birth isn’t exactly a cultural aspect that jumps out at you when you walk off a plane, but it’s the kind of thing I get to see and learn by living here. Yay for cultural exchange.
It works both ways, too. Having the baby around prompts lots of questions about babies in America. For example, I was snapping my fingers in front of the baby’s face to see if she could focus on where the sound was coming from. My sister noticed me doing it and told me that babies in Senegal didn’t really see until about 2 weeks after they were born. Not having been around newborns much, I didn’t really know how true that statement was, so I just gave her a blank stare. She realized that her statement wasn’t really computing with me, so she asked "do babies in America see?" Ha. I didn’t really know how to respond, and I can’t even explain why that is such a funny question. But it is. I know that newborns still have a lot to develop, but when she asked me that question I kinda wanted to give her a smart response back, like "yeah, they poop too. Do Senegalese babies poop?" But I didn’t. Instead I confused myself about whether or not American babies can see. Sigh. Sometimes I think I’ve gotten way dumber since I’ve been here. Maybe it’s not so much of a cultural exchange as Senegalese culture entering one side of my brain and slowly pushing out all things I knew about America. A cultural slide. I’m slowly sliding…..
But then something else will happen that will bring me back to the western word, which bring me to my….
Random [western influence in] Africa Moment
Recently there were 20 French toubabs in my town, but that’s not my random western influence in Africa moment. It was kinda weird having them here…I’m not used to seeing other white people. Plus, it’s always weird seeing other toubabs here, because whatever you do it’s awkward. If you see another toubab you don’t know and you say hi, you both know that you’re both only saying hi because you’re white. That’s kinda weird. But then if you don’t say hi it’s weird because then you’re both avoiding the fact that it’s abnormal to have white people in this part of the world.
Anyway, I had no idea that this group of Frenchies were coming. The first day they got here all the kids were running up to me and saying "Aissata! Aissata! Did you see your "koreeji?" (koreeji means family). I eventually went to the house where they were all staying and introduced myself. Turns out they’re a group of nursing students, and they stayed here for 3 weeks to do health related work.
It got kind of annoying because literally everyday several people would come up to me and ask if I’d greeted my koreeji that day. Sometimes I’d just say yes, but if I was in an argumentative move I’d say "they’re not my koreeji!" Whenever I said that people would get really confused until I explained that I’m American and they’re French. Some people would say "ohhhh" and let it go. Some people, however, would persist that we were still family! That really bugged me. One night I got into a discussion about it with this one dude, Mamadou, who’s always trying to get into annoying discussions with me. I asked him if all black people were his family just because they were black. He kinda said yes, but was a little hesitant. Then I asked him, "if a group of Kenyans came to Senegal would you consider them your family?!?" There were a couple other people in the room at the time and when I asked that question they all got quiet. Then, Mamadou finally conceded that he in fact would NOT consider Kenyans his family just because they’re black. Everybody went "oooooo!!" Aissata got you! Ha! It was a good feeling. I’d won a discussion in Pulaar! Then after that if someone who present during my discussion with Mamadou was around when people asked me if I’d greeted my family that day, they would tell the story about how I’d told Mamadou whats’up!!
Anyway, towards the end of the Frenchies’ stay, the director of their program stayed at my house for a couple of nights. As a thank you gift, she gave my host mom a bag of goodies. Not being able to read, my sisters were going through the bag but didn’t know what anything was. They called me over and asked me what everything was. They were all sample size packets, so I picked up the first one and tried to read the small print. My sisters were crowded around excitedly asking: "Aissata Aissata what is it? Is it lotion?" I finally found the English on the packet. It said "Firming Body Concentrate." So I said yeah, that’s lotion. I picked up the next one. "Ultimate Hydrating Revitilizer."
My sisters: "What’s that one? Lotion?"
Me: ultimate hydrating revilitzer…hmmm..how do I say tat in Pulaar. Oh wait. Yeah that’s lotion.
My sisters: What’s this one?
Me: reading the next label, ‘hydrating gel mask’…translation to Pulaar…Lotion.
My sisters: Is this one lotion too?
Me: next label: Intense moisture boost. Yep, that’s lotion too.
My sisters: All the packages are different, how is it possible they’re all lotion?
Me: I wish my language teacher was here, then he could tell me how to say "Cream with Grape Polyphends and Nutrients" in Pulaar. He’s not here though, so I’m gonna go with…lotion. Yeah, they’re all lotion I think.
My sisters: Please tell me this one isn’t lotion, I’m getting bored.
Me: Good lord! "Body Balm – lipid restoring, anti-irritant body care severe skin dryness/cutaneous irritation???" Seriously? Why is this necessary? But riiiight, people in Europe/America probably wouldn’t buy this unless it sounded fancy and high tech. Still so ludicrous in this context!! But all I can say is: Yup, that one is lotion, too.
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