The Stranger

As a volunteer in Senegal, you get a lot of people you don't know approaching you for a variety of reasons.  I'm sure it's the same in almost every other Peace Corps post in the world.  It's a byproduct of focusing on areas that are under-served by other organizations.  Each volunteer, whether he or she is aware of it or not, develops a system for dealing with these sorts of situations.  In Dakar, I face these solicitations probably as much as anybody other volunteer in the world.  I'd like to share the thought processes that go through my mind when somebody approaches me and how I decide to give them the time of day or not.  I'm not proud of all of it, but I'm going to try to be honest with myself and with you.

Let's start with Talibe.  There's a unique and controversial system in Senegal.  There's a system where small boys are sent away from their families sometimes as young as 3 or 4 years old to live at a Koranic school under the tutelage of a Koranic scholar and professor called a marabout.  Sometimes this decision is made to bring the family closer to God, sometimes it's because the family simply doesn't have the resources to care for the child.  In any case, part of the education of these boys involves asking for alms.  Basically, they have to beg for money on the streets and meet a certain daily quota.  There are a lot of these kids in Dakar.  Every neighborhood you go to, there's a group of them in dirty clothes holding their can with some bread or rice in it asking for spare change.  It's not like beggars in the States either.  They come up to you, pull on your hand, look you right in the eyes.  I have a pretty hard and fast rule regarding them.  I don't give money to Talibe.  Sometimes, but not nearly often enough, I'll buy them each a piece of fruit, but I will not give money.  I've broken this rule twice.  The first time, it was early in my service and I was having a good day.  The next time was right after the bus I was on crashed and I felt like I needed to acknowledge some sort of higher power that could strike me down at any time.  I have to say no to these boys every day and every time I feel bad about it.  I wonder how, both morally and logically, I can justify not giving.  Every reason sounds so selfish.  Do you want to know the real reason I don't give money to Talibe?  It's easy.  It's easier than deciding when to give and when not to give.  I know it's amoral.  I know that if you compared what I say I "believe" with my actions, they wouldn't match up.  Deep down, part of me knows I should be giving more and that part of me cries out every time I say no.  I guess it just doesn't cry out loud enough for me to change.

Another group of interesting folks are Baye Falls.  These are members of a particular religious sect often associated with very baggy clothes, dreadlocks, funky patterns, and, you guessed it, asking for donations.    They aren't like the Talibe because they aren't always asking for donations.  They only do so around certain holidays.  Other times, they approach me for other reasons.  There's a Baye Fall house in my neighborhood and I interact a lot with them.  I won't say that they're all bad.  I've met some extremely friendly and welcoming Baye Falls including one in particular who was an extremely talented musician as well.  The problem is, I've had enough negative experiences with them that a red flag goes up in my head when one approaches me.  Double red flag if he acts super excited to see me.  When that red flag goes up, I give short answers and don't ask any questions.  As we get through the typical series of greetings and introductory questions, the less-than-upstanding ones will drop their friendly act and get down to the real reason they approached me.  That's my cue to get out of there.  The ones who are truly interested will start to ask about my work or what I think of Senegal.  When I hear those sorts of questions, I start giving up some more information and loosen up my body language a little bit.  Those positive experiences are worth the bad ones because Baye Falls are the most likely to invite me into their home or their place or worship or to go celebrate a holiday with them.  I might never accept one of those invitations, but the gesture is what counts.

With everybody else, it's all about respect.  If you approach me with respect, even if you're trying to sell me something, I'll give you five minutes.  I don't mind if an artist tries to get me to look at his paintings or to come to his boutique to look at his wares.  That's his job.  What matters more to me is that he treats me with the same respect he would treat his fellow countrymen.  If "toubaab", a word which basically means foreigner, gets dropped, I shut down.  Same as with the Baye Falls, if he's too excited, I shut down.  If he gets angry that I won't buy anything, conversation over.  If he tries to give me a gift, it's generally over unless we've had a particularly long and mutually enjoyable conversation.  By stopping to talk to people who respect me and are interested in what I'm doing, I'm not only able to have positive social interactions, I'm also able to talk about Americans and the work of Peace Corps to people who are receptive to such things and who are likely to say positive things to their friends and family.  I've been told that this is why Senegalese like Americans.  We will stop and talk and, sometimes, that's all people want to do.  I've had plenty of interactions where a guy is trying to sell me something, but I eventually break through the act and start really talking with him.  By the end of the conversation, no money has changed hands, but we both walk away happy.  Those are the types of interactions that put me in a good mood.  I don't like buying people's good favor for the same reasons that I rarely offer to write a grant or to look for outside sources of money for work partners.  At the end of the day, it's just so much more satisfying to earn success organically using just knowledge, hard work, and a friendly smile.

So, that's about all I have to say on strangers.  There was the matter of the cliffhager from my post entitled Jeremiah Johnson where I showed you a picture and said I would reveal what was around the corner in the next post.  Well.... that's going to wait again.  Also, the construction that I mentioned at my house is just about finished and there were some major changes to my living arrangement (for the better).  I'll talk about those in my next post and I'll provide some pictures as well.  Until next time.

P.S. The playlist for writing this blog was Totally Hits, Volume 3.  I found it in an old DVD case.  Pretty stoked about it.