Diop > Ndiaye

I’d like to start this post with a joke…

Pape Diop and Ablay Ndiaye walk into a bar.  Neither orders a beer. (Because they’re both good Muslims)  Ablay is hungry.  He reaches into his pocket for his wallet so he can buy a snack.  He remembers to his embarrassment that he’s already eaten his wallet, and the money it contained.  Then he realizes he’s not reaching into his pocket at all, because there is no pocket, because he’s already eaten his pants.  His stomach rumbling loudly, he turns to his friend to ask for a few CFA to buy some rice, his favorite food.   He realizes to his horror that his friend isn’t there, because he’d eaten him before coming into the bar.  Delirious with hunger at this point, and clearly hallucinating, he has no choice but to eat the punch line.

All the stories we told about Baay broken arm up to this point were lies.  Ablay Ndiaye came over for lunch one day, and the meal was about 15 minutes late.  He got so hungry that he had to take a big ol' bite out of Baay's arm.  We've been lying to protect Ablay Ndiaye from the consequences of his appetite.  It's not his fault he was born an Ndiaye.

I suppose it’s half joke, half public service announcement.  One should never trust an Ndiaye around food, or even non-edibles, because they’ll eat them all.  All they do is eat.  All they know is hunger.  They eat rice a thousand times a day.  They eat with both hands.  They’re never full.

And now I would like to assure you that everything I’ve written thus far isn’t strictly true.  It does, however, give one a good view of some aspects of Wolof culture, Senegalese culture and interactions in our daily lives.  In Senegal, there is a concept called “joking cousins.”  When you are born, you are born into a rivalry.  On one side are you, and people who share your last name.  Pitted against you are people with another specific last name.  In our case, as Diops, we have a joking relationship with everyone of the last name Ndiaye.  (I realize now that we may have never explained how to pronounce these names, so here goes… “Di” makes a “J” sound, and Diop rhymes with “Hope.”  “Ndi” makes an “Nj” sound, and Ndiaye rhymes with “Lie.”  Biased rhyming selection?  Prove it!)  We are lucky enough that we are participants in what has to be the biggest joking relationship in Senegal, population-wise.  It seems that about every third person we meet is either a Diop or an Ndiaye.

This means that when meeting a new person, there’s a one-in-three chance that we’ll immediately have something upon which to relate to them, and about which we can mutually joke.  Early on in our time in Senegal, it was a mixed blessing... or rather not a blessing at all, but rather a challenge.  With limited language skills, getting told that I was fat, love rice, eat all day, and have a stupid last name was hard to understand, and when I did understand the actual words it was hard to understand why I was being insulted quite so aggressively.  As we’ve previously blogged, Wolof culture is pretty aggressive and relies heavily upon teasing, joking, and mutual insulting in interpersonal relations.  With profoundly inadequate language skills it was impossible to achieve the necessary mutuality for these interactions to be anything but really unpleasant, one-sided barrages of insults.  Now, with slightly more adequate language skills (though still lacking) the insult-driven interactions are less intimidating and have become a lot more fun.

"That ficus looks like an asparagus spear... Mmmmmmmmmm, asparagus."

Despite how people may perceive me, I find social interactions with new people to occasionally be uncomfortable and awkward.  This is how I feel about interactions in English.  Interactions with new people in Wolof, in which my whole mind is focused on understanding what is being said (and therefore my ability to diffuse awkwardness with humor is somewhat hobbled) are usually even more uncomfortable.  However, usually someone in any given group I meet is named Diop or Ndiaye.  This gives me something upon which to immediately relate with him/her, and therefore diffuse any awkwardness.  Either by doing a verbal high-five with a fellow Diop or by exchanging insults with an Ndiaye.  It’s also a very easy and fun way to impress people with your Wolof skills and cultural knowledge, and thereby gain credibility and respect, which are pre-requisites for any sort of collaboration. 

Gaining someone’s respect by insulting them and their whole family is hilariously different from American culture.  It’s fun to imagine what America would be like were it to have the concept of joking cousins.  Smiths calling Joneses fat and greedy.  Johnsons telling Millers that they are their slaves.  Wilsons telling Moores that they are all poor and can only afford plain rice.  I think it might be fun.  I wonder who the Fritsches and Gardners would have a joking relationship with… maybe those greedy Hammersleys, or those shiftless Maeders.

           

Here are some of my favorite insults in Wolof (and translated in English)

Ñaata yoon nga ndekki tey?

How many times did you eat breakfast today?

Doo suur.

You are never full.

Ku sant Ndiaye, du suur.

A person with the last name Ndiaye is never full.

Boo gisee ceeb, doo mën a tiyye sa bopp.

When you see rice, you can’t control yourself.

War nga dem bëreji.

You have to go wrestle.  (subtext: you’re gigantic/fat)

Dangay lekke ñaari loxo.

You eat with both hands.  (subtext: even your left, butt-wiping, hand)

Senegal is well known as one of the most peaceful nations in West Africa.  Except for the problems in the Casamance (which inshallah will soon finda peaceful resolution) Senegal has had relatively violence-free political transitions since France withdrew in 1960.  There are many theories as to why this is the case.  One is that since Senegal is so devoid of natural resources, there’s nothing worth overthrowing anyone for or seizing power over.  But that’s a more depressing argument than the one I prefer, and hear more frequently from Senegalese people than anything else.  People here believe it’s the joking culture that maintains the peace.  It’s not that people are working out their aggression and frustration in the form of harmless insults, but rather that the joking builds camaraderie and community-strengthening interpersonal ties.  Senegalese love to joke and tease.  Perhaps more-importantly for the maintenance of peace, Senegalese love to be teased.  Our father’s best friend is named Ablay Ndiaye, (the man featured in all the photos) which is illustrative of how having a joking relationship with someone is not a hindrance to friendship, but rather a boon.  Whatever the reason(s) for Senegal’s long-lasting peace, we’re doing our part to insult our community into increased inter-connectedness.  That is if the plague of Ndiayes here can restrain themselves from eating all the camaraderie.

Jamm rekk,

Peter

Actually Ablay Ndiaye is so close to our family that we call him Baay Ndiaye.  He's a wonderful, wonderful man and the closest thing we have to a grandfather here.

P.S.  Here are some fun facts you might enjoy…

Ablay Ndiaye is the standard name for a generic Senegalese.  Like “John Q. American” for a generic American… or whatever it really is, as I can’t really think of what the standard name is right now.  Ablay Ndiaye is also a euphemism for penis.  Like “John Thomas” or “Johnson” or “Percy” or… “Peter.”  Thanks Mom and Dad (and Grandma Schmitt, née Peter!)