Lengoxoto*

Today encapsulated a lot of the past few weeks for me in ups and downs. Luckily, today used that saying in reverse. I spent most of the morning in my hut, at first I had the excuse of the rain, but that really didn’t last all that long. So I laid there getting angry at myself for not taking enough action and wasting everyone’s time. Ultimately I was just dwelling on the downs of the past week or so. After lunch however, I forced myself to get out to the Health post and ask them some questions I had worked on translating from English a few days ago. No one was there. I figured this was going to happen because I got the motivation at a weird time of day, I had a back up plan prepared.

This back up plan was really more of a personal dare because it was to go to the place in village where all the old men sit on this huge bench under this AWESOME tree. I’d been there a couple times and never really felt welcome. They would always just mumble something I couldn’t manage to make into words, say “He doesn’t understand Malinké” a lot, and eventually someone would throw in something like “White Guy doesn’t speak French either.” Then we’d all laugh and I’d get out of there feeling rather dejected. Last time I was there, the two men who happened to be there I’m pretty sure actually hated me. However, I know that if I really want the good Malinké I need to talk to the older generation who haven’t been quite as tainted with French in their language.

So I made my way back to the spot, Donding donding (little by little), when I turned the corner and saw the nine men sitting there on that gigantic bench made of whole trees, I lost all my courage to approach them. So I took the path that would keep me walking through the area instead of up to the men. I greeting them all, they greeted back and I was home free. Then one said, “Iburahima (me), come here.” My plan had been foiled, and I knew that for my own good I needed to go to them. We chatted for a bit, they invited me to sit, so I did, I felt the need to write a few things down in my notebook. I turned them into teachers and they loved it. I did stumble through a few things and got the chorus of, “He doesn’t understand Malinké,” but I was able to throw in a few gems forcing them to admit that I was understanding, donding donding. In the end they basically told me to come back every day if I wanted to learn the language really well. The part that struck me the most was that they barely even mentioned my ancien volunteer - I am the third volunteer in Khossanto, first was Famara (my double ancien), then came Shekho (my ancien), now Iburahima is there. I’m not going to lie, these guys would not shut up about Famara who’s been gone for more than a year and a half now, but we weren’t being compared. They just were remembering him fondly and I could tell that they were hoping to be able to build that kind of relationship with me too. When they talked about Shekho they did so only to say that he was there, I seemed to have found a pocket of the village that he did not spend a lot of time in. It’s what I’ve been looking for, usually when he comes up it’s a direct comparison because he’s a lot more recent in everyone’s memories. When that happens and I get the feeling that they wish he were still there or that they think he was better than me. At that point I usually turn off and stop listening.

Now, because I really liked making that last post, a few bullets:

• They are actually really nice (except the one who wants things from me) 
• It’s a great place to go to avoid being compared to Shekho 
• One younger guy there actually wants to work with me specifically on language in excange for English lessons (If he’s actually good I can also pay him in money Peace Corps gives me for a tutor) 
• They are all very patient with my language abilities 
• They’re old and generally speak the real deal Malinké 
• That tree is REALLY cool. 

When I left I had a huge smile and was feeling SUPER re-energized, I will be going back.

With an extra spring in my step I made my way back to the Health Post where I found only the ones who don’t speak Malinké. I was feeling motivated and they were in a good mood too, so we worked with my limited French and their equally limited English to get my questions answered. It was a fun and productive game, plus I noticed that when searching for words in a foreign language my default has changed to Malinké, which is far more effective than the German that has usually been popping into my head.

Then, to wrap up the day I sat on a log outside my family’s compound with a man I think I can start calling a friend, and a few men I don’t know at all, and they told me the name of the place with the old men and the AWESOME tree - Lengoxoto. After a little research into the meaning I came to this, “Under the Lengo tree.”