The first few weeks of homestay: Gardening, Jaxanke classing, and Senegalese dancing

Hello everybody! I’m writing you all after having disappeared for the past couple weeks into the crazy, often weird, on the whole wonderful life of my home-stay.  I’ve been living in the great big sandy city of Mburr with the Cisokho family, going to classes and gardening and doing my very best to learn their relatively obscure Senegalese language called Jaxanke. Homestay has its definite ups and downs, but I love my family and have settled into a routine quite happily.



Every morning I wake up super early- maybe 5 or 5:30- to the blaring sounds of mosque calls to prayer, roosters, or noisy cat fights.  Every town in Senegal is equipped with a million different mosque PA systems which blast chanting or other often goofy sounding blabbing at all hours of the day and night. At times I think I’ve heard them unwittingly turn on the mics and treat everyone in my side of Mburr to a conversation about the latest wrestling match or how tasty the rice and fish (Cheb a jen) they had last night was. Ha!

Then if my host brother Mohammed doesn’t come banging on the door to get me to go running at the beach with him (Mburr is most happily situated right by ocean!), I’ll go back to sleep for a little longer and then get up for breakfast with my Dad, Mom and Aunt.  In addition to them I live with three older brothers who range in age from 24 to 40, and have at least three other brothers and one sister who are off in various parts of the world. Though I get along with everybody really well, if I could have one wish it would definitely be for a bunch of little brothers and sisters.  I think playing with children would be such a great fall back when my caveman Jaxanke is failing and the space of our big, sometimes lonesome house becomes overwhelming. 

Breakfast is delicious bread and butter and bad coffee which we sip while watching a ridiculous, unceasingly dramatic Spanish soap opera called Frijolito.  I have long French conversations with my father (mBa), who has traveled around the world, maybe speaks 20 languages, and loves to lecture me about the various goings on of the world and American capitals. Then to my Aunt (nNandin) and mom (nNaa) I say what would literally translate to “I am going school to, with friend others I do the eating, I be returning will this evening.” …Or something like that! Crazy Jaxanke language!



I drew the short straw of homestay locations and ended up on the entirely opposite side of Mburr from everybody else, so my trek to class is 40 minutes or so.  I make the most of it though, and have befriended just about everyone along the way. In the beginning every kid in the world would yell “Toubab, Toubabe!” which means ‘Hey Whitey!”. Now, though, everyone yells Mamadou- my Senegalese name, or Amadou or Mamadi if they’ve gotten mixed up. All the little kids run up with huge smiles for handshakes, older folks ask me to come have tea and quiz me on my Wolof, and everybody tries to get me to do the hugely popular, silly looking Senegalese ‘Yousa’ dance!

Jaxanke class is held in one of the other volunteer’s houses on a big blue and red mat in an otherwise empty room.  We are taught by Lamine, one of the many brilliant Language and Cultural Faciliators that Peace Corps employs here in Senegal.  Classes are tough but really helpful, and we’re slowly gaining the grammar and vocab to discuss really silly scenarios.  Yesterday we actually had our first language test.  And, not to toot my own horn, but I was very happy to have made it to intermediate low Jaxanke! (Peace Corps requires you to make intermediate mid by the end of training)

This blog is getting too long, so I’ll try to speed through the last bits.  After class I go home for lunch, which is almost invariably rice and fish. We eat around a big bowl communal bowl on a variety of chairs, stools, and mats, arguing in Jaxanke about whether or not I’m full…. “A domo! (eat!)” “Mfaataa (I’m full!)”  “I faataa?? A domo!!”. Afterwards or in the evenings my brothers come into my room, fiddling away on my guitar and insisting I sing in English. Generally it’s Bob Marley, but sometimes I sneak in some Disney songs just for kicks! And, if I’m lucky, my mom might sing in Jaxanke while my aunt dances. Amazing!

 I take a sweaty, unpleasant nap almost every day cause the middays are absurdly hot, and then make the long trek back to the other side of Mburr. At a little school there our Jaxanke and Mandinke classes  have created a beautiful garden, and we’ve also made a lovely mural map of Senegal.  It’s complete with camels and lions, and even has some kind of crazy sea dragon swimming amongst the dolphins. We’re all very proud.

Watering the garden or painting away ends most of my days, and I usually head home for more rice and fish and guitar playing till sleep sneaks up on me.  Every now and then we’ll sneak in some break in the routine like a day at the beach or a visit to the health clinic to help out with baby weightings.  I’ve really enjoyed getting close to a lot of the folks in our group as well as some of the Fula Kunda trainees who are also living in Mburr (the number of languages that are spoken in a single city, never mind all of South Dakota size Senegal, always blows me away! ) 

In a few minutes we’ll be finding out our future sites where we’ll be spending the next two years! So exciting! Unfortunately though I’ve been destroyed by a fever for the past couple days, though thankfully a few of my friends have taken amazing care of me here at the center in Thies. And (Alhamdilloulai), my malaria test turned out negative.  So here’s hoping I’ll be well enough to get blindfolded and physically led to my site on the basketball court map of Senegal.  Updates coming soon!