Diversity

Like a conscious dinner host, I hesitate to present my words for the feast, because they remain in such unrefined state. Nevertheless, all too often we are not fortunate to have the luxury of time to ruminate and synthesize, so I share with you the ingredients of today that will hopefully entice and whet the appetite for what I hope will be something even greater in the future.

How many of us revel in the aroma of garlic or onions sauteing in olive oil? The scent of freshly baked bread or an autumn apple pie coming from the oven? What these smells tell us is that life is lived through the senses. We cannot live through others, nor through their stories. Each of us needs to experience life so that it has meaning for us. Although we know this intellectually, we instinctively fight it. How many of us, as teachers or parents or older siblings, point to books, articles, websites, or our own life stories to teach a lesson to the other? The intention is admirable, but often the result is incomplete. Why? Because that person has not lived it. I believe that the lessons of life are best learned and internalized when they are our lessons. So, that brings me to my observations here. I cannot pretend to tell you what is right and wrong here, what are the challenges and solutions, what we back home should be thinking and doing. I’m not equipped. No one is. All I can share is how I feel from my experiences.

Senegal is a place of scents and smells. Senegal forces you to LIVE. There is no passivity, no just “being”. I just finished three books I have been reading; that makes seven total in just over seven weeks! One of the books is entitled, “The Poisonwood Bible” by Barbara Kingsolver. The storyline revolves around the experiences of an American missionary family in the Congo at the end of the 1950s/beginning of the 1960s. The book is powerful and humbling; I definitely recommend it. But, here is the catch: I would have put the book down after the first couple chapters had I started it in the United States. It is the context, the setting of being in Africa that gave the book so much meaning and made it relevant to me. Almost every reference made was one I understood, yet equally was ignorant of just two months ago. In the book, Anatole, a Congolese who married Leah, one of the Americans, traveled to Georgia, and shared with her the following observation: scents and smells were missing from America, it was antiseptic and only hinted at disinfectant. How true in so many ways.

Dakar is full of scents, full of diversity, in the fullest meaning of the word. People--races, ethnic groups, languages, facial features, skin tones, religions; socioeconomic status--ultra-rich, middle class, poor, destitute; architecture--cutting-edge, colonial, bland, tin shacks, tarp tents; and education--intellectuals, educated, uneducated, illiterate--but all so much more informed than their equivalents in the west. What can I say? I’m living an experiential inundation here.

Last week I was invited for dinner at my colleague’s home. She was born here, but her family is originally from Cap Verde. That’s a country made up of a series of islands in the Atlantic Ocean not far from Senegal. It is a former Portuguese colony and almost all its inhabitants call themselves Catholic. Their skin tone is similar to a light skinned mulatto or Puerto Rican. They are a significant community here in Senegal, and they view the African reality quite differently from the black Senegalese. Among the black, the Wolof are the largest ethnic group whose language has become the de facto national language. There are also the Serere, the Pulaar, and many others. They all speak of the national values of tolerance, peace, and teasing each other. There is no ethnic strife here, they have always had peaceful elections and transitions of power, they practice democracy, and are a secular state. One of the ways they keep peace is with a great sense of humor, constantly teasing each other and making light of any differences. With more than ninety percent of the population being Muslim, one would assume a religious state, but Catholic holidays receive as much fanfare as Muslim ones: November 1, All Saints Day, is a national holiday here. They are Muslims, they believe and practice peace--as promoted by their religion, and they cannot understand why the U.S. and the West paint Islam to be such a violent religion. What am I saying? Diversity. What we think is one way is so multi-faceted. The diversity is humbling. I am learning so much from living here. Yet it’s so difficult for someone else to grow and change in the same way when he/she is not living the same reality.

I have experienced the hospitality of the Serere, and although hospitality is a professed national value, I have heard the sincere, unselfish form really doesn’t exist among the Wolof. Again, diversity. Then, of course, there’s the Lebanese here. They defy every definition of Lebanese that I personally possess in my head; they’re a different breed, to which I don’t feel a strong affinity.

School. Maybe tomorrow, the third Monday thus far, will be the first day I actually teach students; we’ll see. As for Ousmane and his exams at the university, the written exams have been taken, but the orals have yet to be administered. If the academic year starts in December, that’ll be great, but January is more likely. Yesterday, I visited the University campus. It felt like a ghost of itself, hollow from the absence of student life, and hollow from the absence of physical maintenance. I may write more on this trip; it is very difficult to process...

We lost our softball game on Saturday against a team of Senegalese who just started playing baseball two seasons ago. Imagine our shock and embarrassment. Proprietors of the national past time mercied by foreigners who didn’t know what a baseball glove looked like three years ago. Again, diversity.

Today, on the BBC and RFI(Radio France International), profiles on race and racism in America on the eve of the election. The honesty of the reporting--diversity. Interviews on the radio, television, magazines, and by me with people in the street, all reflect how important TO THE WORLD is the U.S. presidential election. The hope is unanimous for Barack Obama. The people here are suffering too much, and he provides so much hope for THEM. Once more, diversity.