A Close Encounter With a Senegalese Idiot

After a much needed three day rest at the Linguere office, I felt rejuvenated and ready to return to village.  Walking into the garage I noticed five men around the age of 30 sitting by the entrance.  So of course to be polite I made sure to greet all of them before walking over to my car and in good form one of the men returned my greeting with a huge smile and a matter of fact "Dafa naaw"--translation: "she is so ugly".  Mmm what a great early morning compliment.  I turn to this cocky son of a B and ask him--"Are you talking to me? Because if you are, that is just hilarious since you are the ugliest man I have ever seen."  He says yes, of course he is talking to me".  And so after a moment of contemplation over whether or not I have the energy to deal with this, I decide indeed I do.  So I throw down my bag in dramatic fashion, stride right up to him and go to hit him in the face, stopping an inch or so before contact, delighting in his flinch.  Then instead of letting him think he got to me, I laugh in his face, shake his hand and tell him he's an ass and to have a good day.

I pick up my bag and walk over to my friend Omar-the owner of the garage and he helps me find a car.  I'm sitting reading my book in the car and Omar turns to me laughing and says Idiot is simply an idiot who was attempting to flirt with me.  Maybe so.  Then idiot comes over to my door, stands uncomfortably close and begins a conversation (more one-sided than not). I inform him that I don't want to talk to him because he's awful and ugly to top it off.  But amazingly he fails to get the hint and he continues talking about his beautiful wife and the fact that I'm ugly.  Charming.  I also find out that he is my cousin, knows my family and is the older brother of the man who professes to be my boyfriend.  At this point I've had enough of talking to him so I push him away and shut the door in his face.  He walks away and I naively think this is the last I will see of him.

Right before we leave Omar asks me to step out of the car so another man can climb in the back.  As I'm standing with my bag in my arms, I don't notice Idiot walking behind me.  He walks by, touches my butt and keeps walking.  Then he turns back and smiles as I'm yelling at him.  I should have hit him while I had the chance!

While some Senegalese men like the Idiot are less than appealing, there are others who give me hope in Senegalese mankind--Assane Sayel--owner of a boutique in Dhara.  I was introduced to Assane by my friend Laura who told me that he was amazing and that he would never try to rip me off or treat me like a walking moneybag.

After not seeing him for awhile, I stopped by his shop in search of a cot.  Unfortunately he didn't have any but he told me where to go and how much to pay.  Then he invited me to sit away from the heavy glare of the sun and he served me ice cold water.  He asked me to stay so we could talk since I hadn't been by in awhile, so we sat and caught up while his apprentice sewed mattresses behind us.  He told me multiple times that I was a good person and that he was impressed by my strength.  He told me that he is happy when he sees women running and working hard because he believes women should be viewed as equals (not like they are treated here).  He also said I was brave and that it was important for me to experience the world so I can have knowledge of different cultures and languages, and also that he hopes to do the same.  He told me that he wants to help me in any way he can--whether that is bringing orders to my house, giving me a ride to St. Louis for the jazz fest, or coming to talk to my family or come get me if I ever have a problem in village.  Feeling uplifted by the compliments and assurances that I was doing good things in Senegal, I hopped on a horse cart to go home (after I promised to eat dinner with his family and play guitar and drums with him in the future).  On the cart I got a call from Assane asking me if I could eat lunch with his family, which alas I couldn't because I was already on my way home.

Although the morning didn't start out well, Assane and my favorite fabric store owner (who walked me all around the market asking people where I could find a cot) succeeded in canceling out Mr. Idiot's idiocy.