A while back, I wrote a blog about getting sick in the middle of the night and about my host mom, Faty Anne/Agne's sincere response. I had mentioned that our relationship had previously been a tempestuous one and was asked to explain why.
When I first arrived in Goudoude Diobe, the family I lived with seemed confused as to why I was there and disinterested in getting to know me. I was the first volunteer in Goudoude so I guess it was understandable. The two rules Faty had set for me were as follows:
#1: No drinking alcohol
#2: No loud music
Easy enough. No bars in the small village of 500 people and no electricity. DONE!
As the weeks went by I grew closer and more friendly with my host family and the kids started to warm up to me.
The only thing that bothered me was Faty's attitude towards me. Each month, I give her money for food in private, but she would always complain about the price of food, medicine, the pass to town, etc in public in front of me...It seemed like she was trying to get me to cave in a buy her whatever it was she needed/wanted. This seems petty in retrospect and I think I've become more adapt to the constant requests people make. However, at the time, it frustrated me to no end.
Then, during Ramadan, the handle and lock on my door broke. Faty got involved and demanded I hire a mason, from another village, to make me a new door and then install a new lock. When I told her I just needed a new lock she got upset saying I should let a mason look at it and I can't put the lock in myself. I tried to tell her that it wasn't safe for me to leave my door open 24 hrs. a day, something I'm not sure I fully communicated....
After, I ended up buying a lock and installing it myself, but this entire process took 3 months!!!! Stuff moves slow here. While installing it, she stood over me questioning my ability to screw in nails....I'm pretty sure she knew I was frustrated with her so when she left for Dakar with her bratty son in December, I was relieved.
She came back after I had returned from France and seemed to be the same abrasive and manipulating woman. So, when I got sick and she told me she would come to the hospital because I was her child, it was really touching. Ever since then, she has mellowed out. Or maybe I have mellowed. Things are no longer tense between us and I am loving my service and time here in Senegal!
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Thanks for the background! I imagine trying to understand what it means to be a family--especially when you're not "really" family--must be one of the most difficult parts of living in such a different culture. It must be exhausting for both of you to keep trying and trying to communicate when it feels like you're just not on the same page. I'm glad that you've come to understand and respect one another.
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