Another issue has come up around mealtimes. Through painful trial and error, my family has learned that my digestive system was not built with Senegalese porridges in mind. I have a rather hit-and-miss record: lach (which is my friend Cybil’s favorite dish) was a disaster, but ndala is amazing! Armed with this knowledge, the cook usually prepares something different for me and I eat a little off to the side. At the beginning of the semester, my cousin Daba would be sent up to say “Come eat” but since she left for school, they usually just call my name. I, however, was treated to a presentation of polite eating by my mother which consisted of the following: “When you eat by yourself, you must invite us. Even when we tell you that everything on the plate is for you alone, invite us. Though we will always say no, invite us.” I don’t have a problem with this practice, but it’s quite different from my usual dining habits. My two year old nephew Amadou was angry at me for 15 minutes on Monday night because I failed to invite him to eat so that he could have the opportunity to say no. We’ve worked out a system now, but sometimes this whole super-politeness thing is still foreign to me.
Yet my family in general is one of the better ones when it comes to sharing. Michelle and Kate live with a constant chorus of “Gimmes,” and other students have been pressed to help pay for the rent! Moreover, my family genuinely does share everything. Our little ritual is to share roasted peanuts while watching soap operas after dinner. The next time I buy treats I intend to offer them each a bit, if only to see their reactions!
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