For those of you who aren’t intently following the goings-on in this wonderful country, google it, or read this:
http://www.news24.com/Africa/News/Senegal-riots-intensify-before-election-20120220
Basically, since late January, when Senegal’s highest court ruled that Abdoulaye Wade was eligible to run for a third term, anti-Wade protests and riots have been happening in Dakar and other regional capitals. This is actually pretty serious stuff. People have died, tear gas and rock throwing is widespread (as well as tire burning; apparently tire burning is a very popular pastime here), and we are pretty much under travel lockdown. We’re being kept up to date by regular and weirdly funny texts from our Safety and Security Coordinator, such as this one: “Opsition plan to b in Plce de l’independence in Dkr 2day again.Should b more violent than yestday.Avoid area & suroundings.Prsdt Wade in Tamba. VGILANCE!”
I don’t feel unsafe at all here. At least in Tamba, there isn’t really much going on, and village is probably the safest place one could be in case of a government overthrow. Which is extremely unlikely. Most people here I’ve talked to seem sure that nothing will happen – many Senegalese take their cues from various religious leaders, so if they preach peace, peace will likely reign (although the recent teargas-in-a-mosque incident might not help). Also, Senegal is one of West Africa’s most stable and long-lasting democracies. But things can always change. So, best case scenario: nothing happens, the election is peaceful, only a couple tires are burned, etc. Worst case scenario: Senegal devolves into unrest and violence, we’re evacuated and I’m back in the US a year early. What’s most likely to happen, probably, is something in between those two extremes. We’ll see. February 26! Mark your calendars.
On a different, and much more awesome note, my mom now has an African baby named after her! My newest host sister was born on Feb 4, and in the tradition of Muslim births, we waited until the baptism to name her, one week later. The morning of the baptism, my host dad knocks on the door of my hut and asks me if I dreamed of any names last night. Recognizing what a great opportunity this is to name a baby Sushi, but also feeling too guilty to do so, I say no. He goes off to pray with the men for a while, then comes back. Here’s how the conversation went:
“Have you thought of a name yet?”
“No…”
“What’s your mom’s name?”
“My American mom? Aileen”
“Eee kleen?”
“No, Aiiileeeeenn”
“Ok.”
(fast forward half an hour, in which time he is conferring in private with the other men of the family, all suited up in their fancy robes)
“Ok, we have decided. The baby is named after your mom. Aiiileeeeen.”
Quite an honor. In this culture, they name babies after family members – so this means that not only do they consider me a family member, but my mom as well (who they know only through photos). Very cool. Also, for the rest of the day, baby Aileen was referred to as “your mom,” as in “Your mom is pretty! Your mom is small! Your mom just woke up! Your mom is African! Hahaha!”
Needless to say, I’ll be bringing stuff back for Aileen after I go home in May. I’m going to make sure this baby has the best that Baby Gap can offer. She’ll be the envy of every baby in Bira. And for those of you who say “But Anne, aren’t you supposed to only do sustainable work? Haven’t you worked hard all year to integrate? Won’t giving your family stuff be sending the wrong message?” - I don’t care. The baby is named AILEEN, for god’s sake. I have an obligation. She’s worth it.
