Cozying up at The Shrine
I’m up in Harlem, after boarding the fantastically named “Bolt Bus” in order to visit a friend and broaden my exposure to some things West African. Staying only 48 hours, we’ve run ourselves pretty ragged in trying to do as much as possible. Why I still woke up at 6am this morning, after a day of taxing recreation (yes, this includes wine), is a testament to the obstinacy of the body clock. So now I’m killing time and trying to come up with something to say about my trip- but also not wander into one of those dreaded “let me show you a slide show of my entire vacation to Cancun” kind of entries.
Let me start by saying that when I smile too much (that is, more than once an hour), my smile muscles start to hurt. I think that this is my body’s way of letting me know that I am being disingenuous for unacceptable amounts of time. Why am I telling you this? Well, I think I might have what could be termed ‘gratitude fatigue’ after introducing myself to so many new people and explaining where I am going. The randomness of my situation typically evokes pleasantly surprised reactions that compel me to mirror the person’s enthusiasm- truthfully, in a genuine effort to demonstrate appreciation for the good things in my life. Unfortunately, these exchanges happen so often that my dialogue has kind of degenerated into what sounds to me like one of those political robocalls: the same speech, created for the masses, and delivered over and over and over again.
Me: “I’m moving to Senegal for two and a half years to enroll in a master’s program at the university. It’s paid for by the Navy, I get language training, and I don’t have to wear a uniform.”
Typical follow-up responses to Americans after I give them this information:
“Senegal is in West Africa.” “They speak French and a number of ethnic languages.” “No, they don’t have any Navy bases over there.” “It’s a stable country.” “Yes, they have internet.”
Typical response when I provide West Africans this information:
“Yes, I’m in credibly lucky.”
It’s true! Senegal is known as a fantastic place to spend time, and it’s nice when I get to tell this to people who actually know a little about the country. This weekend I was able to break a bit from the same verbal exchanges after my friend (a returned Peace Corps Volunteer who was in Guinea- a country in West Africa), brought me to a West African bar in Harlem where I got a chance to speak some French to mostly dudes who all mostly had the same response after picking up my left hand:
“Tu vas trouver un bon mari sénégalais.”
Bravo men of the world, at last you have successfully oversimplified my reason for going abroad! It is not to challenge myself, expand my perspective, or to make the Navy a better place…you have cracked the code, and it is to find a man! I hate to say it, but this also exactly what I heard when I told (American) men that I was joining the Navy. Just goes to show that people are the same everywhere, and they are highly entertaining.
Anyways, just as we were about to leave the bar I said au revoir. Instead of hearing au revoir in return, I got the typical deadpan comedic response that I so much appreciate about people from West Africa:
“Bon mariage”
Me and La Grande Jesseca, who I first met at age 15 in France, and was the person who got me thinking about Senegal in the first place.
Forget men, the REAL reason to go to West Africa is for the FOOD!!