Dakar 2 Our Family

Saturday night, we dined again on the most excellent seafood at Just4U: fillet of fish and enormous gambas in a blend of spices that are not so unfamiliar but which make up a whole new taste. Tonight, Cheikh Lo performed with his band of tambour, sax, guitar and electric piano players. His voice was a marvel that had me spellbound, as was his rhythm on his tambours. His range helped overcome the effect of his bizarreness!

Sunday, Rama from ACI came to collect us to take us to our family's home near the mosque in Mermoz, a residential district of Dakar. The gentle, wise grandmother and matriarch, Anta Ba Diop, heads the family. The family has lived in this villa since it was built in the 70's. She has many grown children, three of whom live with her with their families and many who visit every day. Observing this extended family living begs the comparison with the western lifestyle and made me think of the last lonely days my mum had in her house before being moved to an institution, in spite of the best efforts by all. The home is a three storey villa built around a central courtyard where all family activity takes place: the six or seven boys between the ages of 1 and 16 play ball here, some watch TV, when allowed, and we al eat here. Grandma assumes her position on her mat here all day, giving counsel, chiding or praising, mostly Allah, as the need arises. All bedrooms are off the courtyard, as is the concrete pen for the family’s three sheep.

Soon after our arrival, we were invited to join everyone on a mat on the tiled courtyard floor to enjoy our first communal meal, as if it were the most normal thing in the world and we had been doing it forever. The Ba Diops are hugely hospitable. Twelve of us sat in two groups circled around two huge round dishes of rice with arachide, groundnut, sauce and meat. Most ate with their right hand but we were given spoons for our first foray…and off we went! For the evening meal, we used our hands and pieces of baguette to eat spaghetti with roast chicken and onion sautéed, again, in the most delectable spices. The family watches what we eat closely and is not satisfied with the amount of food we eat. Last night one of the fathers told me I needed fattening up, and the wives giggled that I needed a bigger butt! I have to say that the food is so delicious everywhere that these recommendations may well come to fruition by the end of this experience in Africa!

In the afternoon, between meals, we wandered around the quartier and came across a brand new Radisson Bleu, the first of its kind in Dakar. The Danes have also opened a Bleu in Bamako. The hotel is on the Corniche, the road which winds along the beaches where children, now on school vacation, were swimming and shrieking with delight. We enjoyed a good coffee and ice cream here in air conditioning. We knew our night in our little, hot room, with just a fan was going to be a bit of a challenge…and it was!

Monday morning, one of or mothers took us to our class at ACI Baobab. Africa Consultants International is an NGO that works to promote cross-cultural understanding, social justice and the health and well being of Africa’s people. We met Ismail Massaly, who in less than two hours took us through the basics of Wolof all the way to the past tense. This morning, Tuesday, we continued with another Wolof class, building and practicing. Ismael is very sweet, charming, helpful and responsive to questions. I will be teaching what I've learned in my French Africa class, next year. It is thrilling to be learning a new language and to be able to take it all “home” and use it every day with our family.

After class yesterday, we visited Goree, an isle which is accessible by a fifteen minute ferry ride from Dakar and which is charming for its crumbling ochre and terracotta colonial style buildings, its slower pace, its pretty beaches ad its artists colony, all spread with bougainvillea of every colour. Goree is not a destination to visitors for these reasons however; it houses the Maison des Esclaves from whence hundreds of West Africans were shipped to Europe and the US; where those underweight were stuffed with arachide oil, where young virgins who became impregnated by their colonial masters could gain their freedom, where anyone complaining would be incarcerated in a hole for a month, and so on. Poignant is the dark alleyway that today leads to the light, but which then led to a ship, la porte sans retour.

We are now eating bananas and mangos and waiting to set off for a lecture tour on Dakar in Transition.