Goodbye to Kaolack

February 28, 2008

I went to Kaolack yesterday to wrap up things with my work there, as well as say goodbye to everyone. It was not exactly an easy thing to do. Well, the work part of it was easy. I arrived to find out that CNN was waiting until next week to do the report on my project. They have such great timing. Got the additional books organized with the others, spent time talking with my boss about the future, and said goodbye to everyone.

Saying goodbye to my family was much more difficult. My host siblings were acting quite sad the entire time, which was annoying. My host mother/sister had matching boubous made for us, so we tried them on and took lots of pictures. They lamented that they couldn't throw a big party for me in honor of my departure. I spent my last night in Kaolack laying on a mattress outside in our yard in true Kaolack style, staring up at the stars and talking with the family members. I made the rounds and said goodbye to the entire extended family.

The day I left, everyone continued to act weird and sad. My host mother/sister said she wanted to write a letter to my mother. So we sat down in my bedroom, and she dictated the letter in Wolof to Amadou, who then wrote it in French. She left the room, and I was quite confused why Amadou continued to write for such a long time. But later, when I read the letter on my way out of town, found out that Amadou wrote his own letter after the one his mom had dictated. Maguette, the 10 year old, sang a goodbye song with my name in it for hours. Then, when I tried to take a few pictures of the family, she started crying and simply wouldn't stop. So we have family portrait pictures with her face hidden by a kleenex. My host mother/sister also sang me a goodbye song while drumming on a kitchen bowl. She also said a blessing for me. Finally, when it was time to leave, we gathered up all my stuff and walked out of the house. My host mother/sister wrote something in the sand in the yard in Arabic and had me walk over it on my way to the door of the compound.

We sat around and waited for quite some time for the right kind of taxi to arrive. I hugged everyone goodbye, which was very hard, since none of them wanted to let go of me, which made it even harder to leave.

But here I am, back in Dakar. Somehow I managed not to cry. My little host brother has been writing me text messages all day wishing me the best of luck in life and saying that everyone misses me.