Huh, Toubab degge na Wolof?

              Every region of Senegal is drastically different from the rest – in terms of geography, culture, agriculture, etc.  Dakar, on the coast (and containing the most westerly point on the African continent) has the highest density of people, a variety of Senegalese ethnic groups as well as non-Senegalese immigrants, and also a mild climate.  When I was there earlier this week, I even wore a sweater at night, though that was partially to acclimate myself for the hotter temperatures I knew I would soon endure.  Kaolack, where I lived in the Peace Corps, is located toward the center of the country and on the border with the Gambia.  It is dominated by the Wolof culture, with some Sereer and Mandinka peppered in the mix.  Kaolack is hot, known to have a lot of flies, has a fairly barren landscape, but is still capable of hosting fruit trees (mostly mango and cashew-which produces a fruit before the nut ripens).  The eastern part of the Kaolack region (Fatick) is also home to enormous biodiversity in the mangrove swamps, which supports a fishing industry.  Further east is Tambacounda, where I have spent the past 2 days with Falaye, who will be working with me to collect samples.  Tambacounda is more barren than Kaolack, home to a variety of cultures (Wolof, Mandinka, Bambara, Pulaar), contains the largest banana farms in Senegal, and also boasts the country’s national park (where one of my friends once spotted a lion from the national highway that runs through it).  Kedougou, where I’ll be headed for my research, is in the far southeast of the country (about a 13 hour car-ride from Dakar, if the car doesn’t malfunction on the way).  Kedougou is one of the most culturally diverse regions of Senegal, with Pulaar, Mandinka, Bambara, Jaxanke, Jalinke, Malinke, and Bassari cultures; the latter is an animist society that has maintained much of its culture, compared to the others that have adopted Islam to replace many aspects of their traditional religion (though some animist traditions do still persist in all of the Senegalese cultures).  Kedougou is the “mountainous” region, home to primates (and the Jane Goodale Institute that studies them), boasts large amounts of heavily forested land, waterfalls, supports avocados in addition to other fruit trees (mango, cashew, soursop, sweetsop), and of course contains a large deposit of gold ore – the purpose of my trip to Senegal.  Moving back toward the coast of Senegal from Kedougou (along the southern strip below the Gambia) is Kolda and Ziguinchor, both of which are forested, contain may fruit trees (and pineapple), support large amounts of tourism, and are home to Pulaar, Sereer, Mankine, Bambara, and Djola cultures.  In the very north of the country is St. Louis and Matam; these regions are in the Sahel (the strip of land directly below the Sahara) and are known for their extremely hot temperatures, conservative culture (people are generally more religious in this region – in terms of respecting all 5 Muslim prayer times, skirts reaching to the ankles, and women more likely to wear hijabs, etc.), dominant Pulaar culture, and predominance of cow herding over agricultural farming.

              Though I lived in Senegal for 2 years and traveled to 10 of the 14 regions, the majority of my knowledge of culture is derived from the village I lived in.  There, Wolof are boisterous, loud, sassy, and continuously joking with each other.  There is rarely a silent moment in a compound: animals (goats, sheep, chickens, cows, horses, ducks, dogs, and cats) wander across the shared open space or through huts, babies cry, children scream and play, adults yell at each other or their children.  Their yelling is just part of who they are; nothing is done quietly, and harsh-sounding tones of voice often contain completely docile messages.  People are constantly visiting each other’s compounds to greet them, stop and talk, help with any chores currently being conducted, share local gossip, and ask favors of each other.  If I entered someone’s compound to visit, I would be constantly entertained by all the goings-on.  Interestingly, I am learning that not all Wolof are the same.  I’ve been staying with Falaye’s family in Tambacounda for the past 2 days and have visited with many of his friends.  They are a mix of several cultures, though of course I can only communicate with those that speak Wolof.  I have found that Tambacounda Wolof are much milder than those in the Kaolack region.  Conversations contain lowered voices, children quietly entertain themselves without much screaming or squealing, and jokes are less physical.  To make a comparison, in my village, often people would visit a compound, pick up the bucket into which a girl was cracking open peanuts, and pretend to run away the bucket, while simultaneously pushing away anyone who tried to stop them and insulting the girl’s cooking or the family’s peanut harvest.  This was all done in jest, with no ill-intentions and lots of laughing and joking from both parties.  But here, jokes are merely spoken, such as comments about last names, carry on for less than a minute, and then the conversation continues.  But, what prevails here and in all regions where I’ve spent time, is the look of surprise followed by the comment “Huh, Toubab degge na Wolof?” (Huh, the foreigner understands Wolof) whenever I open my mouth to speak.

              Next stop, tomorrow, is Kedougou.  I’ll be in the city for 2 days meeting with government officials there to explain my research (any potentially related governmental branch needs to be aware of my work to ensure that no one feels slighted) and receive any formal authorization papers that are deemed “necessary.”  Then, I’ll finally be ready to travel to mining villages to begin collecting samples.