Verbal Altercations

Recently, I have had the opportunity to both observe and add my own two cents to a few spirited Senegalese debates. This is exciting for many reasons, not the least the fact that I was finally catching onto conversation enough to jump into a debate. Granted, a few of these angry chitchats were in French... but living in Thies, I've begrudgingly accepted the usefulness of my French, and I've started letting myself use it more. But hey -- communicating with people shouldn't be something that makes me feel guilty! Even if we weren't speaking in Wolof, cultural exchange was happening!

Anyway, one night I was sitting with my host mother, quietly in the backyard, as we do most nights between 8:30 and 9:30. My host father was sitting a little ways away on the porch doing his sudoku, as he does most nights between 8:30 and 9:30, not to mention every other hour of the day. They were just chatting... but then, as it often happens in Senegal, their voices started rising. My host mom eventually started yelling, using her hands a lot, and my host dad even stood up from his chair to make a point. For a family that usually has no qualms firing themselves up about political issues, I took note and tried to listen more closely. Maybe something was happening with President Wade! Maybe there was a big protest or a strike! So I stopped staring off into space (literally... so many stars!) and tried to focus my Wolof.

What I heard was... repeated use of the word for cheese.

I thought I must be wrong. They can't be arguing about cheese. There is no way. Cheese must be a metaphor! The word for cheese must have multiple meanings. I kept listening. Cheese! Body. Cheese! Health. Body! I finally just couldn't take it anymore and asked what they were arguing about.

My host mom's face lit up. "Ah-HAAA!" (this is her trademark exclamation) "Mame Diowma will prove me right! Is Vache Qui Rit (Laughing Cow Cream Cheese) good for the body?"

I didn't know whose side my answer was going to help so I treaded carefully. But I mean, the answer was obvious.

"No. It's not good for your body. I mean, it's good -- it tastes delicious! And it's good in moderation, I guess. But it's not healthy... um. Yeah. So, no. It's not good for the body."

My host mom let out a victorious shriek! My host dad pushed his glasses up on his nose and silently sat back down on his chair, returning to his sudoku! The judge had spoken and there was only one winner!

I've also fallen into numerous arguments about the health of fasting. As I mentioned before, this is something I feel strongly about... I just find the health detriments of fasting unobjectionable. I'm not against people doing it, and I think it can be a great spiritual practice. But no, at the end of the day, it is not good for your body. It is hard for your body. It is insanely hard on your body. Numerous people in Senegal have enjoyed picking fights with me over this point... including people who run HEALTH departments at national-level non-profits. They tell me that fasting cleanses the body. Another person told me,

"Think of your body like a machine! You use a machine every day, every hour. But then, for one month each year, you give the machine a break! The machine needs to rest. It will last longer if you rest it!"

To which I responded:

"Fasting is not giving the machine a rest... your body is still living during Ramadan! The machine never stops! All you are doing is turning off the electricity and still trying to make it work for most of the day!"

But you know, you can't win the fasting argument. You just really can't.

Luckily, you can win the Vache Qui Rit argument. So while I don't seem to be making much progress teaching people about how nutrition/the body works, I at least seem to be making a dent in the segment of Senegalese population that believes Vache Qui Rit is a health food. Here's to behavior change!