After a month away from site, coming back to my village really did feel like coming home. My mom swept the cobwebs from my hut, washed my sheets, and made my favorite dinner (millet and beans). As soon as I appeared on the road all of my little brothers and sisters started chanting my name and ran out to greet me and carry my luggage back to the house. All of the women at the well made a big fuss over my return and begged me not to be gone for so long ever again. Everyone in the village lamented about how AWFUL my vacation must have been since I got too skinny and lost my "jaifonde" (big butt), and insisted I stop by for lunch so they can fatten me up again. Being back in my own routine, among family and friends, in familiar surroundings has been really nice, but a recent tragedy has made my homecoming a bit difficult.
For several months my best friend Bassirou's wife has been ill, and on June 6th she passed away in her mother's village. No one knows exactly what she died of, but since I was told she had "stomach problems" and I watched her wasting away, it is very possible it was liver cancer caused by Hepatits B, which is apparently pretty common here. Rokhaya was a neighbor and really good friend of mine and I'm deeply saddened by her passing, but since she passed away a week before I got home my village and I are not on the same grieving schedule.
Death is handled very differently here than it is in the western world. When someone dies women throw themselves on the ground and wail and cry, but according to Muslim law the body is buried within 24 hours and after that people seem to "get over it" pretty quickly. I have no doubt that internally they continue to be saddened by the loss of a loved one, but the demands of a harsh life take precedence and once the funeral is over you aren't supposed to show any emotion. You shouldn't be upset that someone is dead because "Allah willed it," and if it was God's will then there's no sense in getting all worked up.
Fortunately my mom broke the news to me over the phone a few days before I returned to my village so I was able to spend a few days mourning my friend, but it was still difficult to go back to Sambande knowing I couldn't show any emotion when extending my condolences to my best friend and his family. It has been a bit of a tough week, but Bassirou is my best friend for a reason and I think he understood, and perhaps even appreciated it, when I wasn't always able to maintain my composure. Rokhaya was a beautiful person and a good friend and her presence is sorely missed. She left behind three beautiful daughters, Koumba, Aissatou and Marie, who seem to be taking the whole situation in stride. Dealing with tragedy is something kids learn how to do at a very young age here and they still have a loving father and a village full of mothers who will take care of them so I don't doubt that in the long run they will be okay. As for me I'm trying to celebrate Rokhi's life rather than mourn her death and I'm keeping myself busy with daily chores and planning upcoming projects. Prayers would be appreciated.
God, filled with mercy, dwelling in the heavens' heights, bring proper rest beneath the wings of your Shechinah, amid the ranks of the holy and the pure, illuminating like the brilliance of the skies the souls of our beloved and our blameless who went to their eternal place of rest. May You who are the source of mercy shelter them beneath Your wings eternally, and bind their souls among the living, that they may rest in peace. Amen.
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