On Saturday I went on a bike ride. I went further than I have done before, past a tiny church and into a fairly remote, but busy little village. As I cycled along, I waited for the normal call of ‘toubab‘ or ‘donnez-moi ton velo‘ but surprisingly, none came. Instead, the children, who seemed to be everywhere, all stopped, smiled, waved and said ‘allo!’ From the older children I got ‘Madame‘ or ‘Mademoiselle‘ – This was such a change from the usual reaction! So refreshing! Having been in Joal for almost 5 months, we’ve got used to shouts of ‘Toubab’ coming from voices here, there and everywhere! On my way back out of the village, past the elderly Serer man herding his cattle (‘the Serer measure wealth on the number of cattle you own, not in money or possessions’ -Amadou) I came across two boys who were playing with a bike along a small stretch of road. As I came alongside, they raced me, one on the bike, the other running along behind. Mustering up all of my Wolof skills, I started a little conversation with them. One was called Antoine, he was 10, and the other was called Mohammed, and he didn’t know, but he didn’t seem to mind…
Beth's year in Senegal 