Training is Winding Down & A Senegalese Wedding

I have completed my final technical exam and have submitted my written responses about my readiness to serve in the Peace Corps. Now all that stands between me and swearing-in as a Peace Corps Volunteer on November 30th is a short group presentation with my fellow Jaxanke-learners, a Language Proficiency Interview (LPI) to ensure that I have reached the minimum required language level (Intermediate-Mid), and Thanksgiving. All this will happen in the next week--training is quickly coming to a close!

I have spent the majority of the last three weeks with my local home-stay (CBT) family in Mbour. As usual, most days I walked to Jaxanke class in the morning and to the garden in the afternoon. The amount of garden work that we have had to do has also been winding down, allowing us more free time with our families and sometimes a Jaxanke lesson in the afternoon. In addition to the garden work, the temperature in Mbour has also, thankfully, been decreasing. My walks to and from class each day are not nearly as hot and are thus a lot more pleasant. 

In the evenings, my room is sometimes still warm, as it does not have much ventilation, but I have not sweat myself to sleep or had to use my hand fan in bed for many days. Sitting outside my family's compound has, a few nights, been a little chilly in my T-shirt or long-sleeve dress shirt. When the temperature drops, most of my younger siblings have found a coat to wear and are still visibly cold. I have of course told my family that I like the cold and have not gone into my room to get a jacket for myself. It is hard to tell exactly how cold it is at night and how much windchill there is. I have not once looked at the temperature while I have been in Senegal, but most days in October I would classify as having been "very hot for long periods of the day and pleasant at night." Now the temperature has dropped to "somewhat hot for moderate portions of the day and a little chilly at night."

I think it is possible that I might not ever look at (or seek out on my own) a thermometer while in Senegal for two years. Knowing the temperature does not have any effect on my level of comfort or how I will dress; I already know approximately how to dress based on the previous day's weather. Does the thermometer need to be a part of daily life in America, or is it a distraction or curiosity of some kind that takes our minds away from something else more important? What is that thing that is more important? I have been thinking a lot since I got to Senegal about questions such as this and I know I will continue to do so when I move into my village and have even more time to sit and journal.

One highlight of my 3-week stay in Mbour was that I got to attend a Senegalese wedding with my family. The family of the bride lives just 100 meters or so away from my family across an open sandy area. The day before the wedding, women from the neighborhood were carrying benoirs of water on their heads back and forth from the well near my house and dumping them in giant barrels in preparation for the massive amount of cooking that would need to be done for the wedding. I helped my younger sisters pull water for a while in the afternoon. Later that night, there was a tam-tam (Senegalese drum) dance party under a big canvas tent in the sandy area that my younger brother had helped put up while I was pulling water for the neighborhood women. At 9pm, my sister told me the dancing would start "tout de suite" (French for "right now" or "very soon"). It started at 11pm, so I was only able to stay for an hour before I had to go to bed and get some sleep for class the next morning.

The wedding on Saturday evening was very interesting to participate in and was more than a little confusing. My Jaxanke colleagues arrived around 4pm to my family's house, and we left with my family from there. Much of our confusion and curiosity during the evening stemmed from everyone speaking Wolof ; we could not understand much of what was said by anyone during the wedding. The religious part of the ceremony took place in the very small mosque near the bride's family's house. Only men are allowed into the mosque. I sat quietly on the floor while older men sitting at the front took turns blessing the marriage. After about 15 minutes, someone passed out cola nuts and party favors, then the 40 or so men who had been sitting on the floor spilled outside the small building. I sat for a while with my family and my Peace Corps friends waiting for the dancing to start again, which it eventually did under the same tent as the night before. We danced a bit before taking a break to sit in front of my family's compound.

Later there was a gift-giving ceremony that included much more singing and some calmer dancing. Everyone seemed to know the lyrics of the call-and-response song that one man led while making percussive sounds with his fingers on a hollow calabash. We then ate dinner--vermicelli with an onion sauce--and meandered over to a second large canvas tent that was lit with bright color-changing lights. The important guests (possibly the bridal party?) entered the tent one-by-one or in pairs to blaring tam-tam music, until finally the bride made her way to the front. My friends and I did not, unfortunately, get to see the conclusion of this last ceremony because it was late and my friends had to return home to their families. My host brothers and I walked them home and got back to our house a little after midnight. Surprisingly, the wedding was over--I had expected dancing to continue into the wee hours of the night.

I'll be sending out an email soon with my updated mailing address (please email me if you do not receive it within the next week). It has been very exciting to receive letters during training! If you write to me, I promise I will write back, though it may take a few months to complete the exchange!