Jamm Rekk

60 Toubabs + 2 rather large white buses

Air conditioning

Pulling up along side a run-down Kuranic school housing (who-knows how many) children. 

It’s a weird picture. 

Yesterday during our class on Senegalese Society and Culture, we took field trip to a local Daara, a school where children are sent to learn the Koran in exchange for spending hours in the streets begging for money as "Talibé". One of the first days of our orientation here in Senegal, we were taught what to say to politely refuse to give money : Baalma, ba beneen yoon, which means : Sorry, next time. After all, each of us has encountered people begging in the United States. Much of the time, we have been able to justify walking past these people by thinking, "they wouldn’t use the money responsibly anyways." But can we really use that kind of logic with these children?

As we were listening to the Marabout (leader of the Kuranic school) describe the goals of the school and the spritual growth that comes from this kind of life, he used an analogy that made most of us in the room cringe. When confronted with the harsh reality of children being sent to beg in the street, he compared the children to pieces of gold- they must be put through the fire to be molded into what you want them to be. 

Who is responsible to put out the fire for these children?? 

A couple weeks ago, as I was walking to school, I found four kittens on the side of the road struggling to keep warm with no mother to be found. As my friends and I sat there contemplating all the ways we could keep these kittens alive, even considering buying milk from a nearby boutique, my friend Annie immediately brought us back to reality. She pointed out the 4 talibé children watching us from a few feet away, the children who we had completely ignored just a few minutes earlier. 

Why were we so willing to spend money and time on these kittens, who would most likely not survive the night, yet were so quick to refuse the open hands of these children ? 

Towards the end of our discussion with the Mirabout, he said something else that was just as thought-provoking, yet in a very different way. He said, « Do you know why you are not outside begging ? It is because someone has already begged for you. » 

I think its going to take a lot of time for me to fully understand what that means for me personally, but from now on, I will look at those children in a very different light. And while I cannot possibly give money to every child who asks, I have a new perspective on who they are and where they are coming from. 

When we were leaving the school and were passing the children who were waiting patiently outside to be able to return to their studies of the Koran, I found even more incentive to change the way I see these children. Many of the children we passed said good-bye the only way we could both understand: by wishing us "Peace Only" in Wolof. 

Jamm rekk.