Papa Lo receives a call from Ma Sane, the beloved singer of Senegal. Ma Sane has heard I’m back in town and invites us to her club later that evening for a theatrical performance and fashion show.
It’s Friday morning … Mme. Gueye flew to Brussels yesterday for a two-week conference on women’s health issues. On this morning, when the housekeepers finish mopping the ever-dusty marble floors, a twice-daily event, Aissatau walks with me up the road to the school Mme. Gueye owns and runs, where I will revisit with the children who touched my heart three months ago (above).
They sing songs for me and clap their little hands. I pop in next door to La Mama who’s struggling with some sticky waxed thread and wait for my team to pick me up there. A Curtis Mayfield-looking man passes by in a long lavender dress, crocheted cap, and slippers and says “nagadeff”, I proudly say “nagadeff’ back.
It’s cool and breezy on this morning, the donkeys ride by and I’m beginning to like this simple life. I’m also getting a little too used to not washing my hair and having three guys carry my bags everywhere. I will hold my breath until late tomorrow, my last day in the village, when I will see and retrieve all of the samples … and pray that I can exhale.
Inspecting the work …