And a Merry Christmas to You

When people ask me what was my Christmas like in Senegal, I may omit the fact that one of the first things I did that day was to break down crying in front of my host family. It was a very pitiful and pathetic sight. I kept asking for the phone—in English—as the tears streamed down my face because it seems when I’m upset I can only speak English. They couldn’t understand me. Finally I was able to get my message across and I called my home and managed to stutter a Merry Christmas to my mom before hanging up because the phone was so staticey and I was so emotional that nothing else could be said.

Once off the phone they asked me what was wrong and I could only reply, “C’est Noel,” to which they burst out laughing at me.

They just didn’t understand how important the day was to me. But I’ll try to break it down for you so that you can understand exactly what was on my mind and why I cried.

1) Like I told them, it was Christmas. I missed my family terribly. The thing is that that is a very powerful statement to make because after my senior year of high school I have tried my hardest to stay out of SC and it seems that I have succeeded. I went to college in DC and now I’m in Senegal, very very far from SC. But in DC I could always come home for the holidays and here I can’t. It seems that whatever it was I didn’t like about my homestate, has dissipated. And I just want to be home with my mom and my dad and my little brother.

Thanksgiving was hard enough; I have never felt such a strong desire to visit my Grandmother’s house in the backwoods of Georgetown County. All I wanted was to eat dinner with my entire family- my aunts, uncles and cousins, to laugh and to feel the togetherness shared between those of my blood. Now I know that people here have done their best to make the holiday enjoyable, but it’s just not the same. And I miss my aunts’ cooking.As the holiday season progressed, it just got even harder for me. Now I’m not saying I want to stay permanently in SC, but I know I need to be there around the holiday season.

2) Throughout my experience in Senegal I have realized that Senegalese people love holidays and when one of their holidays comes around they are very extravagant in the way that they dress and in what they do. Korite comes—we have a large feast, we get dressed up and we visit others so that everyone can see how fly we are. Tabaski comes, it’s the same thing and we even kill a goat. But when Christmas comes, people party the night before and do absolutely nothing that day. And for me it hurt because Christmas is my holiday that I celebrate in a grand way because it’s important to me as a Christian. I thought that Muslims viewed Jesus as a prophet and if that’s the case to me, they gave Him absolutely no respect. Some people cannot even tell me why they celebrate Tabaski but everyone knows Christmas is the day Jesus’ birthday is celebrated and nobody cared. I guess He’s just not important to them after all. But what made it worse is that I partied the night before with them. I told myself I wanted the Senegalese experience, but as that night progressed at the club I began to have a moral complex about it. Why was I even out? And it was my first time at the club.

3) I didn’t have a clean towel and I needed to take a shower. I don’t understand why there are not extra towels in the house or why my towel is not clean. Why are there no washing machines?????

And so that’s why I cried. I celebrated Jesus in my own private way, but at the time I was still very unhappy.

Now I recognize that there are some terrible memories that people have around the holiday season and my memories haven’t been bad they just haven’t been what I wanted. But I can honestly say if I compare my holidays seasons together, this has hands down been the worst holiday season in the history of my life.

Rudolph

Who thought that it would be so hard to teach the song, "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer?" It has been a song I've known since childhood. But when you teach a class full of francophone 10 and 11- year-olds who have never heard of Rudolph and don't really celebrate Christmas, it can become quite a task. But they surprised me and I am very proud to show this video of my class singing "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer" this past Friday. It was the highlight of my day.

That Dang Little Muhammad!!!!

My little host brother Muhammad came very close to getting a spanking the other day.

He was sitting at the breakfast table whining for no reason, and his dad told him to come which he didn't do. He just sat there crying like the little baby he is.

All of a sudden dad gets up but mom rushes in and grabs baby, saves him from a spanking. Dad had a belt in his hand ready.

I just sat at the table laughing. Then he looked at me and says, "this is not in America." I just smiled and said we got beat growing up too. We got beat probably more than they do here. In my house the belt didn't come out for no reason. If my daddy took his belt off he was going to use it on one of us...maybe both. That was the way it was.

If that had been me my dad or mom would've said, I'll give you something to cry about, and that would've been it. The thing about it is I have never seen a little boy in Africa or America, that needs to get beat as badly as Muhammad needs to get beat. That little boy needs to get his butt whooped like...every 2 hours. That'll show him. He hits, he spits, he yells, he throws things, he tried to pull my pants down on the school bus he's so bad. And he'll do something, laugh and walk away, and he gets away with it every time. Talk about things that are unfair.

He came in my room one morning and spat on my sheets but do you think he got in trouble OF COURSE NOT. Now it's getting cold and I have no sheets. Maybe it's because he's the baby, maybe it's because he's the only boy I don't know. But I'll tell you this, I'm glad mama is pregnant and I hope she has a boy. Then maybe Mohammad will finally be able to calm down and act normal...or maybe not.

(it's always better when he's sleeping)

Tabaski Pictures