Toubacouta- Sunday

Sunday morning after breakfast, Waly told us the schedule had changed somewhat, and we were now going to see a village tradition.  We got no details as to what it was except, it is called the concurrant.  We got an bad premonition about this “tradition” when we saw several men with machetes walking in the same direction as us, toward the center of the village.  Soon after that I smelled smoke, and we came upon an unexpected scene.  People were working in this flat area, open area between houses pulling up dry weeds, and raking the weeds, sticks and other debris into piles, which were then lit on fire. 

After this flat area, the concurrant progressed into a more heavily forested area.  Men and young boys were cutting and hacking at all the trees, reducing young and medium sized saplings to jagged stumps only a few feet high.  These green branches were also burned in large piles, along with other trash lying around the area, like the smoking tire we saw and smelled in one pile.   

While the men were cutting down all of the trees and small brush, the women were walking around with small plastic buckets.  I think they were to carry water if the fire got out of control, although with flames reaching higher than my head, this bucket brigade seemed like it would be pretty helpless if the fire actually got out of control.  Some other children and young people were just standing around watching, but that ended quickly when the reed-man came.

I didn’t see him closely enough to tell exactly what he was wearing, but whatever it was, the costume was sufficient to scare children and adults alike.  He seemed to be the work police, because when he came around everyone quickly started working or running away.  Honestly, I wasn’t scared, but maybe if I had really known better what his purpose was, I would have been.  Either way, we all played along and ran out of his way when the reed man passed by.

After we left, we were told that the concurrant happens every Sunday, with a different section of the village burned and cleared each week.  The tradition is designed to open up village for safety reasons, like preventing dangerous wild animals from living too close to the village.  Getting rid of the vegetation in the middle of the village also improves the visibility, which contributes to the general security and connectedness of the village.

Following this explanation of the purpose of this tradition, I understand better why the villagers have this tradition, because at first it seemed completely stupid and destructive.  My first thoughts while witnessing the concurrant were complete confusion as to any possible motive for cutting down and burning the forest.  If the need exists to clear the area around the village, why not use the wood for something useful instead of just burning it?  

Also, there is a serious problem in Senegal with soil quality and degradation decreasing agricultural yields.  Perhaps, some of the organic matter like leaves, branches, and nuts, could be used to amend agricultural lands and increase the fertility of the soil.  This would probably require some sort of composting effort, but in combination with animal manure and other household waste, they could probably make fairly good compost, and do something useful with this organic matter.  

While I still think the concurrant is not exactly a good tradition, I realize now that there is a cultural and educational gap between my perspective and the Senegalese villagers.  This tradition has probably been  going on for a long time, and continues for the traditional reasons.  It takes a well thought out, logical alternative to convince people to change tradition, and probably no one has taken the time to develop an alternative plan or educate the village about the effects of their tradition.  With more immediate, pressing health and economic needs, the concurrant is a tradition that will probably continue far into the future, a reality with which I have come to terms.

After the concurrant and some group reflection on our trip, we headed back to Dakar.  The traffic getting back into Dakar was bad, so we got out of the bus to walk along the road for a while.  Then we hopped back on the bus when it caught up to us (we were beating it for quite a while).  Geographically, Dakar isn’t in a good place to have good road access, since as my host dad said it’s a “presqu'île” or almost island (peninsula).  

It was nice to feel the cool coastal breeze coming back into Dakar since Toubacouta was noticeably warmer than Dakar, and on the edge of hot.  Although, I really enjoyed not breathing smog for a couple of days, and was reminded that I like the country better than the city.  I like Dakar pretty well, but there was just something about the smell and feel of Toubacouta that felt familiar and right.  This field trip made me excited for my internship in a rural village like Toubacouta.  I’m looking forward to living smog and traffic free, but even more I hope that in a small village I will feel more a part of the community.  There is some community that exists in my neighborhood in Dakar, Sicaps Baobab, but not as much as I expected, and I can’t really say that I know very many people outside my family.  

Love,

Mel