Conversational Pulaar

I've got less than a year left and I've realized I've never fully discussed my local language.  So here it is! The low down on Pulaar.

The language we speak down south is broadly know as "Pulaar" but can be broken into several different types, and in Senegal we have Fulakunda and Pullofuta.  They're only slightly different, and for the native speaker only slightly different; it's like an American speaking to a Brit or an Australian, slightly different yet they can mostly understand each other.

I learned Fulakunda during training, as the majority of Pulaars in Kolda are Fulakundas.  What a lovely surprise it was to find out that my immediate village would not be Fulakunda, but a mixture of Pullofutas, Bambarans, and Mandes.  The good news is that everyone speaks Pulaar, the bad news for 2013 Kim was that it was Pullofuta Pulaar.  It was a bit of an adjustment at first, but that's exactly what those first couple months were for, and once my village realized that I knew more Fulakunda words than Pullofuta words, they'd either switch to Fulakunda when speaking to me or yell the Pullofuta word at me until my brain remembered it.  Both techniques worked.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, greetings are especially important in all Senegalese cultures.  The first thing you do when you see a person is greet them, and exchange that can last for 2-100 back and forths.  Some Westerners find this annoying, but I find it wonderful.  What an easy way to make people happy!  And the best part is you can repeat the same greeting and even throw in some"Ca va?" and you're golden.

Here is a typical morning exchange with a neighbor:
Me: Walle-jam! (Good morning, or literally, sleep in peace)
Them: Jam toon! Tana finani? (Peace only! Good morning, or literally, you woke up?)
Me: Jam toon! Hono bimbi o? (Peace only! How's your morning?)
Them: Jam toon! Hono bandu ma? (Peace only! How's your body?)
Me: Jam toon! (Peace only)

Now this conversation can go a lot of different ways.  My favorite way it can go is just pointing out the obvious.  Senegalese people love to point out this obvious.  This is another cultural quirk that some people find annoying and I really love.  Again, less work for me during a conversation.  I can be doing anything, reading, pulling water, sitting, etc, and someone will inevitably ask.  "Oh, you're reading?" "Yes, I'm reading."  "Oh, you're eating?" "Yes, I'm eating."  "Oh, you're pulling water?"  "No, I carry full buckets of water around on my head for exercise." "Oh Aissatou, you're so funny!"

I know.

Ramadan: Year 2

For my faithful readers out there, you might remember 2013 Kim was not a huge fan of Ramadan.  In my defense, I was hungry.  Last year I had a certain expectation: to be fed.  Sure, I was fed, but one small bowl of white rice and maggi at 10 am split between me and 5 children isn't going to tide me over all day.

This year I had no such delusions.  While, I didn't go as far as purchasing that gas stove that would be so useful, I have been eating.  Aside from the bread I can buy in village every day, and the fruit I can get in Kolda, my beautiful, wonderful, generous mother sent me an amazing care package that has gotten me through this week and I am trying to make last another 2 weeks. It's not that the amount of food in the package is insufficient, it's just that I get very bored sitting around waiting for people to want to move again that my stomach inevitably fakes a rumble and gives me an excuse to munch on those white cheddar Cheese-Its I love so much.

But what's an average Ramadan day? As per usual, I leave my hut at 8:00am on the dot.  I wait around to see if I'll be served breakfast.  Sometimes they've already eaten, sometimes there's no leftover rice, and always I have to guess.  I don't love eating rice for breakfast to begin with, so for the past couple days I've just been eating in my room.  A baguette from the day before and some honey, maybe an apple and a granola bar, breakfast changes.  Then, inevitably, once I'm done Ramatou will barge into my room with a big bowl of rice and 4 kids trailing behind her, triumphantly announcing breakfast, and I have to stomach a spoonful or two of rice for politeness sake.

Once breakfast is eaten I'll try and do some socializing.  "Try" being the key word.  What actually happens is I wander semi-aimlessly around my village looking for people to talk to.  I've been semi-successful.  Everyone's tired, even in the morning, and don't talk much and automatically gravitate to a place they can lie down.  When this happens I go home and try and con Soso and Oumou into hanging out with me, and this always turns into Oumou making my hold Aissatou while she does something.  I wouldn't mind this as much if she peed on my less.  Once relieved of Aissatou, I seek shelter in my room.  I'll read, listen to a podcast, and at some point make myself a beautiful lunch (yesterday I ate 5 chocolate chip cookies and I cup of powdered milk. Score.).

So yes, I'm eating.  But there's something missing again this year: people.  I miss my friends, I miss conversations not formed around fasting (and my lack thereof), I miss working, and I miss drinking tea. T-minus 2 weeks until I get my village back! In the meantime, book recommendations are welcome.

Jam tan,
Kim