My Friend David

I probably met David very early in my service, but I can’t say I remember anything about that first interaction. At that point my energy was focused on getting to know the community, and as a teacher he wasn’t a permanent member of it, and thus outside my principle interest. Not long after this first meeting I left for language seminar and my second round of training. By the time I came back he was on his summer vacation. Then another school year started and a couple months later I was off to America and wouldn’t be back to SPB for four months, by which time I was busy building latrines and another school year was wrapping up. So it really wasn’t until my last year in Saré Pathé that I got to know David. By the time I did our friendship unfolded so easily and naturally that it seemed as if I’d known him for years.

It was easy to be friends with David because, like me, he is an outsider in Saré Pathé. He speaks Mandinka, but he is not Mandinka. He is Diola and Catholic, from a more prosperous part of Senegal, and perhaps most importantly for me, he is far more educated than any of the permanent residents of SPB. All of the teachers have been to University and have seen something of the world outside of these tiny villages. Even if it is just through books or TV, even if it is just Dakar, the fact of having been somewhere other than Saré Pathé means that they can better understand the journey that I made in coming here. On top of this, David is especially generous, outgoing and kind, one of the warmest people I've ever known. And of course it helps that he speaks excellent English. We made a pact last year that we would never speak to each other in French, only Mandinka or English so that one of us could always practice. We usually ended up speaking English though, which was more than fair considering how much practice I get without his help. I taught him idioms and proverbs. And I spent many a pleasant afternoon this past year sitting with him and the other teachers under a mango tree, talking about our different cultures, about languages, history, politics and about our friends and families.

As the last school year came to a close and David and his colleagues prepared to go back to their respective regions I found myself wondering how it was that I missed out on this kind of friendship during the first half of my service. Mainly it was for the reasons enumerated above, but I think it also has something to do with my own level of comfort within this culture and within the Nafi persona. I noticed it a few weeks ago also when I had a very long and illuminating conversation with my favorite guard here at the Peace Corps house. I came away from that interaction feeling so much love for this man who I see every time I’m in Kolda and who is infinitely wiser than I ever realized before that night. How could I have thought I knew this man before? How could I have gone this long without knowing these details of a life that interests me, that has intersected with mine so often? Part of it is that by now I’m really good at communicating with Senegalese people, which was not always the case. But beyond this ease of cross-cultural communication - that could only come with experience - I find that as my service draws to a close I am trying to soak it all up and get the absolute most out of these experiences and relationships. It is a bittersweet moment in the life of Nafi. 

I may not see David again before I go back to America. He was the first of many difficult goodbyes so I wanted to dedicate a post to him, to those good times under the mango tree and to the other wonderful friends I've made in this country. I’m just thankful, as always, to have had the chance to learn this culture and to know these people. They are some of the best I’ve had the privilege to know.

Diatta, Babene, Sonko & Sagna