So today was an interesting day, to say the least. To explain a few things first: I live in Bambey, which is its own Department, that is included in the region of Diourbel. Maybe this is like states and counties, but on a much smaller scale, since then entire country of Senegal is the size of South Dakota. Every Department has a mayor, for exampe. I have heard that Bambey is the poorest department in Senegal, and Diourbel is quite possibly one of the poorest regions. Everyone leaves to work elsewhere with the highest goal of leaving the country. Touba is east of Diourbel, but still part of the region. It is the religious capital for Mourides: a brotherhood of Islam. Touba is the pilgrimage site for Magal, that I have talked about in the past, where millions of people all go to pray and celebrate their late leader's anniversary of returning to Senegal, from somewhere. Okay, don't hold me to that, it could be his birthday, not exactly sure. But it last ocurred in February so I won't get to go back to Touba. Which, maybe is ok!
Last night, an RPCV, John, gave me a call. He served in Cameroon til 2003 and just finished Law School and needed a break from America so came to West Africa for like 6 weeks. Randomly, he met someone who new someone who knew me and I got a call. We decided to go to Touba together.
I had heard that Touba is conservative and that I need to wear my Senegalese attire. No problem, I have quite a few different ensembles but had to pick the one that covered me the most. I have a few with no sleeves so those were out. I chose my newest one that has a head scarf too thinking this would be perfect: wrong. It is pants with a boubou (shirt) that goes down to the middle of my shins. Well, pants are apparently illegal in Touba.
We got to Touba early, around 8:30ish and found breakfast and walked to the Grande Mosquee. It was easy to find! We walked up and sure enough, a bayefall (typical mouride) walks up and introduces himself. John and I assumed this would happen so he walks with us talking about the mosque and Touba and notices immediatly that I need to cover up. We walk over to some women sitting across from the mosque and take a skirt to wrap around my pants and a shall to cover my already covered hair. We took off our shoes and got the tour from the bayefall. He told us which tiles came from France and what hand painted murals were imported from Morocco and all the other international influences. And John tried very hard to get into the mosque but since we aren't Muslim, the bayefall said no. He obviously had a better shot than I did but still no luck.
After giving back my additional clothing, we wandered around the market and took a charet ride around town. By 1 it was pretty hot and unbearable and we decided to head back to the garage to make it home. I was getting harrassed by just about anyone since I wasn't wearing a skirt and getting more and more irritated. I was nearly refused lunch at a restaurant and so we decided to just skip it! I understand, in a way, that they want to keep traditions and sure, they have their reasons, but honestly, I tried to please these people in my pretty boubou and didn't succeed.
Oh well, Touba was for sure an experience I figured you all would be interested in. I attached a few pictures so check out the link called Baol Baol (the region of Diourbel's nickname). There are also photos from a baptism on there from a few days ago since my work partner asked me to go around and take pictures of everyone for him. Enjoy!
No comments:
Post a Comment