Catching Up

I’m feeling a little behind on blogging so to catch up I’ll tell two stories from the past week:
A few days ago I rode my bike to Diourbel (about 25km away) to pick up some materials for a class. It had been a really windy day so when I turned around the sand, blown up from the wind, had covered the sun and it was getting dark about an hour before normal sunset. I rode for about 30 minutes into straight on wind and sand until I realized I had to decide if I was going to catch a bus the rest of the way or if I had time and would make it back before it got too dark. I saw some women selling dried leaves on the side of the road -I’d greeted them on my way into Diourbel - and stopped to ask. Like normal, I greeted them, asked about their families, and answered their questions before asking mine.
“Do you know how far it is to Bambey?” (keep in mind this is in HORRIBLY broken Wolof)
“No, but it’s far, are you going to go on your bike?”
“Yes, do you know how far Diourbel is?” (so I could count backwards)
“No, I don’t know that… you’re going to ride to Bambey TONIGHT on your bike?”
“Yes, I need to leave.”
“That’s ridiculous, you need to sleep at our house tonight, you can go to Bambey tomorrow.”
The Senegalese pride themselves on their hospitality and it’s absolutely true. These women had NO clue who I was and kept insisting that I stayed at their house. Knowing the Senegalese, I know these women weren’t joking, had I taken them up on the offer they would have fed me dinner and given me somewhere to sleep, expecting no payment the next morning. As much as I appreciate their teranga (Wolof word for hospitality) , I didn’t take them up on their offer and got on a bus to get back before it was totally dark.

Skip forward to today, I was waiting for Thomas (he rides his bike to Bambey, we chat for about an hour, and then he leaves and I go for a run) at our normal spot when some kids saw me. There were 3 kids ranging from 2-5 years old that just stared at me. I called them over in Wolof and held my hand out to greet them. The youngest one started walking over until he realized his brother and sister weren’t behind him and then he ran back. Eventually 2 more kids joined and all 5 got the nerve to come and greet me. The oldest one told me all of the kids names and asked me mine. He asked if I lived in Bambey, and then asked where the other toubab with the bike was. I told him that my friend was coming… and this point the youngest one (I would guess 2 but I have no idea… he was walking and kind of talking) just kept repeating “another toubab! Another toubab!” When Thomas showed up they were too overwhelmed and just stood half hidden by a building and watched us until we left.