Small talk

Have you ever walked down the street in New York City, smiled at someone, and gotten a suspicious frown or a pleasantly shocked half-smile back? I hate that. That is how I feel about New York, about Penn, about much of the States. People are suspicious of over-friendliness, and possibly rightfully so, especially in a place like NYC. But it can also make the day-to-day a lot colder than it needs to be. I think about my commute to Brooklyn last summer: an hour-long bus, a 15 minute walk, a half-hour on the blue line, and a half-hour on the red line- listening to my ipod the entire way. I noticed one evening on my way home that at least a third of the people in my subway car had on headphones- from preteen girls to businessmen and women in powersuits to gray-haired men reading the newspaper. If someone smiled at me on the subway, it was either a young man practicing his sly-across-the-subway-car smile or it was a drunk. Somewhere a little less hostile than New York City, say Penn's campus, still respects these same only-flirts-and-weirdos-greet-strangers stigma: smiling at person you're sharing the laundry room with is probably okay, but asking the people waiting for the elevator how their day was is likely going to get you a look or two.

There is no such stigma in Senegal. If you walk into a classroom without greeting the room at large "asalaa maalekum," then you are probably either rude, American, or both. I greet about 90 percent of the people I come into close contact with during the day- strangers or not. I think there might be an unspoken distance rule: if you come within 4 feet of someone, you exchange greetings.

By greetings, I do not mean just "hello" (bonjour). Greetings can take place in French or in Wolof, and either way they are long, friendly, and impersonal. In French, a greeting to a person who is not a stranger but not a close friend consists of:

-Bonjour (hello)
-Bonjour (hello)
-Ca va? (how's it goin?)
-Oui, ca va. (yea, it's goin)
-Ca va bien? (it's going well?)
-Bien merci, ca va? (fine thanks, how's it going?)
-Merci, et les affaires? (thanks, and the thing's you're doing?)
-Ca marche un peu (they're pretty much going)
-Et la journée? (and your day?)
-Oui, ce marche (yea, it's going)
-Ah, bon, ca va (ahh, good, it's going)
-Ca va (yep, it's going)
-Ciao (...ciao)

Throughout the conversation, the two parties usually are taking baby steps away from each other, until finally they turn away and continue on walking. Or sometimes, if someone's really in a rush, they might skip the small talk and go right to "bien, merci" as they continue on. The first couple times this happened, I turned after them, puzzled, thinking.. but... I didn't ask yet... but now I have learned better. When in Senegal, greet like the Senegalese.

In Wolof, greetings are even more elaborate (this, too, is not an exaggeration):

-Asalaa Maalekum (May peace be with you)
-Maalekum salaam (May peace be with you as well)
-Na nga def? (How are you doing?)
-Maa ngi fii rekk (I am only here)
-Ana waa Village I? (How/where are the people of your dorm?)
-Nun nga fa (They are there)
-Naka journée bi? (How is your day going?)
-Mu ngi dox (It's going)
-Yaa ngi ci jamm? (Are you feeling at peace?)
-Jamm rekk, Alhamdulilahi (Only peace, thanks be to God)
-Alhamdulilahi (Thanks be to God)
-Naka tangaay bi? (How's the heat?)
-Ah, tang na torop (Ah, it's very hot)
-Ah, dafa tang! (Ah, it's hot!)
-Waaw, maa ngiy dem (Yes, I'm leaving.)

As over-the-top as these greetings can feel, I really appreciate them. I love walking past stangers and having them wish me a good evening, having some sort of interaction with the people I come into contact with. I think that this all goes back to Senegalese values. There's a stereotype that the West is preoccupied with individualism, and that in Senegal community and family are valued much more highly. I think this is a somewhat unfair generalization- I would attribute it less to West vs. East or West vs. "Third World," and more to a rural lifestyle versus a cosmopolitan one. Dakar is not friendly, and the Midwest is quite friendly. Or I think of my Memere and Grandpa in Jersey, who have always lived in what seems to me a very supportive community, with Memere reaching out to neighbors and Grandpa greeting passerby with a hearty "hello, hello, beautiful weather today!"

Nonetheless, I think it's fair to say the value of community is very, very high here- more so than in many parts of the States that I've seen. Long greetings are a part of this- acknowledging everyone's place in the community and making sure that the people around you are part of your consciousness. The value of community is clear in a lot of other ways as well, especially in the housing situation here. There aren't nearly enough beds to house all the students, so many students take in friends, cousins, even friends of cousins' friends, and house them for the year. Take my friend Tabs for example: she lives in a single (meant for one person) that belongs to a friend of a classmate. Tabs sleeps on the bed, and the other two girls share a mattress on the floor. In fact I think I know more people who share their singles than people who live alone in them. At first I was struck by how kind this is of everyone, to be willing to share their space like that, but I've learned that to them it's just the right thing to do. Or rather, it is the only thing to do. I find it very admirable. Noo ko bokk: people share it all. If I buy cookies, I always make sure to buy twice as much as I want, because I know I'll be offering it to friends. It doesn't feel like an obligation at all; it's just what you do. Juice, notes, cell phones, meal tickets: Noo ko bokk.

Back to greetings. Asking about how the person is handling the current weather situation is key to any proper greeting. If it's 11pm in March, the question is, "how's the cold"... if it's noon in most any month, the question is "how's the heat", but if it's noon or any time between the hours of 9am and 8pm in May, then the response to "how's the heat" is likely to be "metti, metti rekk"... "pain, nothing but pain."

Because that is what the heat is like right now, at 3:20 on May 9th. Pain, nothing but pain. Although the heat itself is nothing new (I've felt some degree of uncomfortably hot most days since being here), this degree of heat is something I have never experienced before. It is just hot. There is nothing else going on outside right now except for heat, heat, heat. At lunchtime today it was 104 degrees farenheit, and yesterday it was 114. There is no humidity whatsoever, so that is a thermometer reading- we don't add in "heat index" like all those very sweaty and non-greeting summertime subway commuters in New York.

Of course, the fact that there is no humidity helps make the heat tolerable. It's not the sticky, sleepy heat I associate with summer camp and afternoons at the pool; it's more like the heat you feel when you're taking a cookie sheet out of the oven and the best-looking cookie falls off the back of the sheet onto the grate, so you reach in to get it, and end up with one full arm inside and your face positioned so close to the oven that within a half-second your lips start to chap, your eyes squint, and you have to turn your face away. Except that here there is nowhere to turn your face away to.

There is another bizarre weather phenomenon that has accompanied this insufferable heat: we call it, "la poussière." Dust. Mauritania has decided to pay the area a visit, and for the last couple days we have been living under the Sahara. I say living "under" the Sahara because the dust hasn't settled yet- it's still in the air. I don't think I can possibly paint a picture detailed enough to describe la poussière. But I will try. Today the sun is out and the sky is, I assume, blue, as it nearly always is this time of year. However, I cannot be sure because there is so much dust that from horizon to horizon it looks like the sky is covered in thick rainclouds. There was no sunset yesterday- just more brownish grey.

In order to conserve energy and water, facilities are often shut off during the day- this means no running water during sunlight hours, and at least once a day the power will be cut. This is an admirable effort that I find very hard to appreciate when I am hot and sweaty and all I want is a cold shower and a fan. Fortunately, even the oppressive 100 degree heat doesn't keep the university from watering the flora- not only were the gardeners out this morning, but the sprinklers were going. Wouldn't want those poor nonnative plants to overheat, now would we.

Forgive my sarcasm, I really do love it here.

And so I am spending my day in the computer lab, where we have a fan and I can sit and read or write without moving. Tomorrow I'm off to the southeast of the country for 5 days, where it is rumored to be much hotter than here. For those of you who are worried and are most likely are members of my loving family, I will be going equipped with longsleeves, sunscreen, and a great big hat- like Indiana Jones, but paler. We're going to see the national park (safari! giraffes! lions?!?), Senegal's beautiful waterfall, and a secluded village where we'll be able to observe yearly initiation rituals and ceremonies- I assume this means music and dancing. I really can't wait.

I'm gonna miss this place.

Maa ngiy dem,
Morgan