The million dollar question (From The Northern Echo)

The million dollar question

2:36pm Monday 16th August 2010 in Reader Blogs

OK…so it’s bad enough being thirty-something and single (sorry to sound defeatist!) without being reminded of it every single day.

Alas, in Dakar a woman must steel herself for the ritual questioning “Are you married?”, “Why not?”, “Will you marry me?” etc etc. Considered pretty darn rude back in Blighty, such questions here are just a way of ‘working you out’ (because as a married woman you’d deserve more respect, obviously... Hmmm).

On this particular day, when questioned by the taxi driver taking me to work, I opted for the “yes, I am” route…a great chance to amuse myself and invent an array of imaginary hubbies. “Is he Senegalese?” - the usual follow-up question. “Yep” – I gave the hoped-for answer for a change. “Children?” “Not yet, I’m concentrating on my career first”. Thought I’d throw that one in to get him thinking. Get him thinking it did. After a few minutes, “So, do you take a pill to stop you having babies..?”. “Monsieur, I think that’s a bit of a personal question!”. Cue a 5 minute lecture on why the Pill is wicked and very bad for women. An invigorating ride to work, thanks mister!

Not all male attention is quite so intrusive of course…but suffice to say, if you’re single (or not!), white (‘Toubab’ in Wolof) and female, you can always pull in Dakar. Or rather, be stared at, ‘psss’-ed at (the habitual noise for attracting attention) or ‘chatted up’ a gazillion times a day, mostly by ‘sai sais’ (womanizers). It’s enough to give you a Madonna complex!

Sadly though – call me a cynic – love is most likely NOT the motive. Hopes of money and visas are often behind the ‘adoration’…the same dreams of Eldorado in Europe which push hundreds of young men to risk their lives by making the crossing in a wooden pirogue boat. Frustrating too for a Toubab who just wants to be wanted for herself.

But enough about flirtation and flattery (for now!) and onto more serious matters. Ramadan started this week. It’s a very big deal in Senegal, as around 95 per cent of the population are Muslim. I live in awe and astonishment of anyone who can maintain such a level of abstention during daylight hours. Maybe I could survive the no food bit – just. But no water? Ouf. Cigarettes, chewing gum and acts of a carnal nature are also no-nos. Some of the more fervent followers even wipe away saliva from their mouth.

Can I be just a little non-PC though…? I’ve been dreading Ramadan. Last year I had my first taster. It’s swelteringly hot, people (especially taxi drivers…!) are understandably getting ratty, and you daren’t take a sip of water in public because you don’t want to rub it in. I can see the spiritual benefits of a month of penitence and reflection…but for some reason it puts me on edge.

But one great think about Dakar is that you can – with most people – have open discussions about religion. Muslims and Christians live in pretty universal peace together, unlike in some other African countries. Maybe partly because the unique blend of Islam here, based around brotherhoods, already co-habits in most people’s belief system with traditional animism. A man might well be a devout Muslim and attend the mosque regularly…but you’ll still find him wearing a “gri-gri” charm strapped to his arm or around his waist to ward off evil spirits. The climate of tolerance means I can ask those questions which I’d shy away from in Europe, for fear of being thought “non PC” – or worse. Do you really think Allah needs you to fast? Isn’t it hell?! Muslim friends ask me, half in jest “So will you be fasting this year Helen?” I reply with a smile “No…my God doesn’t want that of me…She loves me enough already!). Thank God they have a sense of humour.