Wednesday, February 6, 2013

Life Project: Discovering Senegalese Culture


Recently, I embarked on a new life project.  At any given moment, I am probably involved in 1-2 life projects.  Previous ones have included trying to learn how to do the splits, baking, understanding the anthropological history of the African continent, memorizing rap lyrics, and Oprah magazines.  I think it’s important to have hobbies.

Anyway, one of my current life projects is “DISCOVERING SENEGALESE CULTURE.”  I hit a point in my service when I realized I’d lost sight of one of my biggest reasons for joining the Peace Corps.  Little known fact, most Peace Corps volunteers are hardly martyrs, myself included.  I had all sorts of reasons for coming to Senegal.  For instance: I wanted to challenge myself.  I wanted work experience.  I wanted the chance to work on something important and interesting.  I wanted the time to figure out what I would find important and interesting.  And probably most of all, I wanted to fully live in a different place.

I know realize that ‘fully live’ means more than just adapting myself to Senegal; it includes living my life, here, and doing things that I’ve always done.  Music.  Theater.  Dancing.  Art.  Guacamole.  When I leave, I want to feel like I, Lisa the person, lived here, and that means finding ways to do things that I’ve always loved.  Some crazy stuff can be found here; other things need to be improvised.  But I know that eventually I’ll go home and find a job and probably work until I’m old and decrepit, but never again will I be in this place with its music, dancing, and art... so I better go and find it.

We stumbled across this magical flute playing man recently.  CULTURE!

That was my commitment.  Then, I stumbled into a few lucky breaks right away.  The result was a strangely fruitful and cultural few days, and what I hope will only be the beginning of DISCOVERING SENEGALESE CULTURE.  Let’s review...

Youssou N’Dour’s Guitarist, Palais des Arts

(So, full disclosure: I failed to catch this guy’s name, which is embarrassing, especially because they sang Happy Birthday to him and his name was written on a cake.  Fail.  But in my defense, I was offered no cake.) 

Palais des Arts is a venue built in Thies specifically because someone realized, “Hey, Thies is a huge, educated city right outside Dakar, but artists have nowhere to play when they go there.  Let’s build something worthy!”  It’s decorated in a mild circus motif, but every time I’ve gone, the music and atmosphere have been spectacular.  Sadly, I’d only gone twice, despite LIVING IN THIS CITY, mostly because shows tend to start at 2am and I have the habits of an 85-year-old woman.  But when I finally showed up for attempt #3 with some friends the other night, we were disheartened to find a pricey cover charge (in hindsight, $6 is nothing for a show).  However, we soon we discovered why the Palais was making us pay: Youssou N’Dour’s guitarist was in the house.

Youssou N’Dour is Senegal’s most famous musician and the current Minister of Culture and Tourism, so hosting his guitarist was truly an elite event.  I ended up throwing down some money to check it out, which turned out to be an excellent decision.  Mbalax, traditional Senegalese music, has a tendency to grate on me since I’ve heard it every hour of the day for the past two years, but this guy’s version of it was pretty nice.  He diffused it in chill rock n’roll, giving it heavier guitars and bass than typical mbalax, plus his drummer acted like Ginger Baker with dreads.  At on point, the house band’s singer, whom I adore, made a cameo appearance and brought it all down.  Mostly though, I enjoyed just mixing in with the other Senegalese spectators on the dance floor until the 5am call to prayer.  


Moliere, Centre Culturel Entre Deux Baobabs

My friend Joyce discovered a new cultural center right in our neighborhood, a joint affair run by a French woman and a Senegalese man.  This pairing seems to have made something wonderful: Senegalese-style events in Western-style classes and programming... I love it!  Every 1-2 weeks, the center presents a different show, usually theater, dance, or music, and the first one I heard about was a Moliere show (I think it was The Invisible Invalid, but I'm not sure...).  All I remembered about Moliere from college was that his plays are usually dirty, which comforted me when I considered my ability to follow a play in French: farts and sex jokes, at least, wouldn’t go over my head.  While I did have difficulty dissecting all of the dialogue (I can understand words, but wordplay is still a little rough...), I loved just seeing how a Senegalese dramatic production worked.  Senegalese people all have a flair for drama, which lends itself easily to angry scenes.  Their brand of comedy, on the other hand, is crazy physical and over the top.  I had also worried that the show would follow Senegal’s tendency to use 50 words when two could suffice, but the quick pace of the show pleasantly surprised me.

But most of all, I really enjoyed seeing the director’s dramatic liberties.  In the schools, I see a serious lack of creativity: essay formats are literally memorized and words substituted based on thematic assignments, skits are always the same story about getting malaria or AIDS, and art tends to repeatedly show the same women fetching water.  But in this play, the director used film interludes to show scenes in other rooms and characters’ inner thoughts and memories, which was cool.  Even moreso, he switched the setting to present day Senegal and substituted a corrupt, unholy marabout (religious leader) for the original version’s quack doctor.  This made the play a refreshing critique of Senegal’s occasional blind trust in their religious leaders at the mercy of common sense.  In the play, a father decides to marry his daughter off to a marabout, probably as like his fourth wife and probably hoping that it will give the family good fortune or holiness (my French couldn’t catch the details, bear with me).  The daughter is in love with someone else, but she can’t fight her dad.  The only person with any sense at all is the maid, which was also a refreshing twist, since the girls who do the housework are one of the lowest and most forgotten classes in Senegal.  Anyway, eventually the women in the house execute a plan that exposes the ridiculous marabout as a womanizing crackpot, and everyone ends up happy.  Yay!  Art!


Daara J Family, Phenix Nightclub

View from the VIP area.  Where the bouncer is standing against the speaker is where I ended up.
Normally, I pay no attention to the banners in Thies advertising huge concerts. These mega concerts are usually held in our outdoor plaza, the site of riots, strikes, and, in the words of my middle schoolers, “where people buy hard drugs,” which I’m pretty sure means one person was once seen smoking pot there.  But when I saw a banner announcing a Daara J show, I did a double take because 1) Daara J is a rap supergroup here, and 2) the show was being held at a nightclub behind my house.  Up to this point, I have avoided The Phenix Nightclub because I think it’d be weird for me to party in my own neighborhood and also, it’s spelled wrong.  But my family has been very supportive of my new cultural hobbies, and besides, it was Christmastime!  So I rounded up a motley crew of fellow volunteers and ex-pats, and together, we bought ourselves a VIP table.

None of us were sure what to expect at the show, except for maybe the couchsurfing French cyclist, who had seen them once in France.  Sure, Daara J is probably the biggest group in Senegal, but then again, I didn’t know how often they passed through Thies, or how many people would be discouraged by the random location in my neighborhood and the $6 ticket price.  But by the time the show started, we had all learned a lot.  For example, even if nine people tell you the show starts at 10:30pm, everything in Senegal always starts at 2am. Or later.  Always.  And also, the concert was not packed.  In fact, I managed to go dance in the front row, pounding my hands rhythmically in the air to the rap rhythms, and high five Daara J.  I also got elbowed by a lot of entirely rily fans who were having Pentecostal-type religious experiences through the music, but that’ll happen.  Daara J themselves are a duo – one dreaded and Rasta-y, the other more dapper in a full suit, and they’re backed by what my insider friend told me was a “group of adolescent Cote d’Ivorians who somehow complete their sound perfectly.”  It was fun to be at a show where everyone knew the words to every song, and every once in a while, a French, Wolof, or English word would repeat over and over in the refrain and I could catch on and sing along too. 


Alibeta and the Nomads, all over Dakar and on my TV

I must give credit where credit is due.  One of the biggest sparks for my recent treks into artistic adventures was definitely Alibeta and the Nomads, a Dakar group that includes one of my good friends and an old PCV here, David Lothamer (he’s not old, he just used to be a Peace Corps volunteer, but then decided to become a nomad and stay and play beautiful music forever in Senegal).  I went to a few of their shows in Dakar, one of which included a theatre/dance performance, and I love them every time I see them.  Recently, another film-savvy PCV, Andrew Oberstadt, collaborated with them on their first music video... and the other night, as I sat watching TV with my family, it appeared on-screen!  According to David, I was the first PCV to see it on TV, or at least the first one who saw it and felt compelled to call him, exclaiming with pride and joy.  So they’re blowing up!  A primetime showing on one of the biggest networks in Senegal, WalfTV means that certainly the video will be in heavy rotation for at least the next month.  You can check it out here: 


I’m excited to see them more in the coming months, if at that point I can still manage to get into their shows.

So there you have it, the beginning of my cultural revolution. We’ll see if it lasts.  I’m not sure I can keep hacking these 2am shows, despite my enthusiasm.  But hopefully, I can find a way to at least see some dancing in the near future.  At the very least, I want to try and go to Akon’s club before I come home, which is actually not cultural at all but would somehow be the ultimate life experience.