In Love: Teraanga in Senegal and Beyond
SENEGAL
‘Twas a time to celebrate, yet I had no idea of how epic today was going to be. Boat rides, quad biking on the beach and sunset watching off island cliffs (before the extravagant soiree) was on deck with the crew to tie a bow on another year gone by.
Generating copious concentrations of salt (up to 40% in some areas), the Dunaliella salina algae takes the credit for the mauve to scarlet tones of the infamous Lac Rose – if rain levels cooperate. A measly three meters deep, the significant quantity of salt is so mighty that it’s been exploited since the 1970s, often also being exported throughout the the sub-region. For fans in the know, this landmark serves as the arrival point for the renowned Paris-Dakar rally.
When we went on our boat ride though, pink hues only came from my rose colour shades. No matter, that’s how I was viewing the world as I strolled hand in hand with these mates of mine. Poolside lunch slowed down the pace, but also offered us a chance to circle around and share what we were planning to leave behind and what we were striving to attract come the morrow.
It tickled me thoroughly how telling others our innermost dreams and dustbin worthy deets offered metamorphosis not only for ourselves, but also for our relationship with each other. Was this just in the perfection of this collision of connections, or could this happen with us all everywhere and anywhere (if only we so willed)?
However you slice it, I am in love with Senegal. Renowned for their teraanga, the Senegalese hospitality is a happy infusion of infectious affection, similar to the speedy spread of covid on steroids – but rather in a way that inoculates and protects us.
It didn’t seem to be just our crew, rather everyone I met in Senegal has been authentically genuine, generous, gregarious and made me feel googly-eyed in joy. Actually.
While there is no ‘origin’ to teraanga, the ubiquitous values and expressions of making others feel like there is no other creates a sense of belonging and safety that has been an integral part of the region’s culture for centuries, long before colonial rule. Could we please copy and paste this into all the other continents too?
This warm fuzzy feeling in my belly sat in harmony with jubilant joy as I squealed and skidded along the sands as a first-time quad bike driver. Soon, I learned that the accelerator was super sensitive and with that knowing, I then returned to feeling the sun polish my cheeks, the nape of my neck and a spot on my shin while the fresh ocean breeze flirted with the rest of me.
My eyes couldn’t believe my reality! To my right, teal tumbled to the shore then retreated, caressing the beach edge like a lover whose fingers graze rhythmically on soft skin.
Young boys boisterously tumbled into the tide as we revved by on our ATV ride. Pausing to capture the perfection, it became even more poignant how pure the bliss was for me. We posed as much for social media as we did to stamp this scene in our soul. Lining up the convoys and crew for the camera, I felt like we were shooting an Afrobeats music video, yet it was actually more lit than that – our laughter and love palpably proving it.
I was so in the moment. Present and uberly grateful for this present that seemed to somehow piece itself together, perhaps out of nowhere. Some adrenaline evoking race circuits intensified the adventure, but at its base was a bunch of boys and me, having a blast on the beach.
Like lovers who know that their time is limited, we tried to squeeze in more. Striving to spin faster than the earth around the sun’s belt, we booked it for yet another beach from where we could launch off by boat to nearby Ile de N’Gor.
As if we were filming a scene during the golden hour, ‘and action’ meant we let the dust settle as we watched the majesty of sundowning begin. By this point, our clan had become intimate yet the guys who guided me knew exactly where to go and what to see when.
Together, they plotted one vantage point after the next on the island where we clicked a few and lounged long enough for my soul to feel the Cosmos flowing into me.
Atop jagged rocky outcrops, the waves below were putting on a show crashing into solid stone, then retracing somewhat softly only to rinse and repeat the motion tirelessly.
Here, our hopes seemed close to both the sky and sea, making it feel impossible that the Universe couldn’t be hearing, heeding and hopefully heralding to good times ahead.
Sunkissed and soaked, we returned to the hotel for a petite hiatus. Recycling carryon clothes wasn’t going to make the cut for a night planned at a fancy French restaurant or atop the infamous Mamalles Lighthouse for a dance party overlooking the city by night, though with the moves these lads had, there was lots to feast my eyes on!
Thanks to teraanga though, post galivants, a girl I’d met in the last 24 hours arranged to have one of her brand new head turning dresses ready for me to hop into. I imagined what Cinderella must have felt and knew that of course, I was so blessed by all of this.
Party favours tooting after a decadent meal, fireworks in the city’s square and in love with the moon cascading on the ocean while I danced under the canopy of stars, celebrating like this, I know the year ahead is off to a dazzling start…
Happy Birthday to all the Scorpions! May the future bear fruit, frills, fun and Favour,