Spot is sitting. See Spot sit. Sit Spot sit!

Hello Sagna, is there no evil with you?

Hello Diabou, there is no evil with me.

You are sitting.

Yes, I am sitting.

This is the conversation I have every morning with the skinny guard in loud-patterned pants, a t-shirt, a wool-knit beanie and flip flops, who sits on a plastic chair outside the old health center building that I pass on my way to work.  Stating the obvious, here in Senegal, transcends cultural appropriateness to be truly, culturally encouraged.

You are sitting.

You are eating.

You are drinking tea.

All of these are both blatantly obvious facts and regular conversation topics in village.  Such a culture of stating the obvious, I have discovered, has some real advantages.

For one, all day long these conversations function as endless vocabulary lessons for learning verbs.  I don’t have to actually ask how to describe what I am doing ever.  I just have to do it and wait for someone to walk by and tell me.

Diabou, you are shelling peanuts. (I be tiga woto la)

Why, yes! I am shelling peanuts! (Iyo!, Mbe tiga woto la).

Bam. Learned the verb “to shell” (xa woto).

Furthermore, stating the obvious is a great door opener for entering more stimulating or prudent conversation.

Diabou, you are shelling peanuts.

Why, yes! I am shelling peanuts. Peanuts are delicious and a good source of protein!

Bam. Nutrition conversation. Had. (#LifeOfAHealthVolunteer)

Plus, describing the most evident and benign details of someone’s present existence is a great way to make new friends.  People simply find it to be extraordinarily normal and instantly, heartily, relate to you when you make such statements.  As soon as I tell people they are sitting, they laugh and a whole layer of cultural-distrust melts away because they can tell that I am not just any tubab (white person); I am here for real and want to understand the culture and form relationships.

Of course, there is another side to this in which you may prefer people to not state what is evident.  Sometimes, as Americans, there are things we all know – things we all know we know – but we all tacitly agree to not speak aloud in order to save someone from embarrassment or shame.  For example, here one might hear (or say):

Diabou, you are gaining weight.

Or:

Diabou, you don’t hear (understand) Malinke well.

In these particular situations, it may take all of your wits and sensibility to keep in mind that these observations are not stated with malicious intention.  They simply are.

Yes, you must say. I am gaining weight. Peanut sauce is too delicious!

Or, yes, I don’t hear Malinke yet. I am learning.

To get angry and retaliate would be fruitless because people here do not see that they may have offended you and do not understand why you could be mad.  If you are, after all, gaining weight, why beat around the bush?  Here it is among the highest of compliments to you – as you intentionally or not are growing into the African vision of beauty with voluptuous curves and thick limbs – to your family – who can afford to keep you well fed – and to the chef of your house – who must be a wonderful cook to be able to keep you eating.

The repeated reminders that I do not yet speak Malinke may be, at times, quite discouraging, but then I will say something unexpectedly correct or complicated or humorous and just as quick as they were to tell me I don’t understand yet, they will tell me I am done learning.  In these times I have to make sure to promptly and deliberately walk back their inflated expectations.

At the end of the day, stating the obvious might seem like a funny thing to do, but it isn't like we don't ever say stupid things in America.  In fact, when you can very clearly see what someone is doing, why do we Americans, still ask?

Hey, what's going on?

Can you not already see what is going on?

Maybe, the Senegalese are on to something.  Maybe they are really just speeding the conversation along.  Once you acknowledge the obvious you can move on to the less obvious...?

Regardless, it is yet another funny, albeit a bit awkward, cultural thing that I am growing accustomed to here in village life.  I've compiled a list of some other things as well for your musing:

- Biking with a live chicken swinging by its feet from my handlebars (I get goose bumbs whenever the wing gets caught in my spokes)

- Walking into stranger's homes to buy peanut butter (such is the nature of a predominately informal economy; to buy a product made by hand you must find that hand that makes it)

- Calling people "my slave" (this is a favorite joke among joking cousins in Senegal but as an American, for evident historic contextual reasons, is quite awkward to get used to)

- Using a loofa (its just never been my thing)