Berkley Center

Last semester a Moroccan told me, “Be careful when you go to Senegal, there’s Ebola in Africa. But the people there are really nice.” At the time, all I could think was, “You know we’re in Africa, right? You are African yourself…” But Moroccans swear they’re different, and they have their reasons. I spent all of last semester discovering the unique blend of cultures that make up the North African identity. As late King Hassan II of Morocco (1929-1999) said, “Morocco is a tree whose roots are in Africa, but whose branches extend into Europe.” I’ve also heard the winds of the Middle East thrown in there, to complete the picture. Moroccans intentionally create distance between their own country and “Africa” because they don’t want to be associated with the poverty-stricken, disease-ridden continent that the media portrays Africa to be. While I understood that Morocco was more developed and had been influenced by a variety of different cultures, I couldn’t help but continue to draw similarities between Morocco and Senegal. After all, how could two cultures be so different when some of the most prominent factors of their identity, such as Islam, linguistics, and a history of French colonization, were the same?

However, I’m here to tell you that they are, in fact, different. In the ways that I expected to see parallels, I don’t. In my "Senegalese Society and Culture" class today, we discussed various definitions of the term “culture.” A typical definition includes values, traditions, and customs that are passed down through generations, often seen through religion, food, or dress. Although Senegal is overwhelmingly Muslim, at 92 percent of the population, it’s not quite as present. I’m happy to still be able to say inchallah and humdulilah in everyday situations (“God willing” and “Thanks be to God,” respectively), but there are only a couple of mosques in my neighborhood, and I barely hear the call to prayer that I had come to love. Girls even wear tank tops and go to clubs at night—probably the biggest culture shock that I’ve experienced in Dakar.

My preferred definition of culture has to do with the spirit of a people as a whole. It’s less visible and less tangible, but captures a lot more about the way people live and what they believe. In this way, the two cultures are very similar. Senegal and Morocco both made it to this list of most hospitable countries, and they deserve to be there. They both eat around a communal bowl, with bread instead of silverware, and watch the same Indian soap opera (now dubbed in French instead of Arabic). Unrelated to any aspect of identity that I could specify, like ethnicity, language, or religion, tea is an integral part of both cultures. The tea customs also provide a nice snapshot of life as a whole. In Morocco, my friends and I fell in love with the café culture, the hours spent sitting outside, people watching and drinking just one cup of mint tea. Apart from us Americans, almost all men populated the cafés. Women rarely left the house, but you could be sure that when you got home, had a visitor, or visited someone else’s home, there was a Moroccan mom waiting to serve you the same tea. It was about welcoming others, pausing, and relaxing together.

In Senegal, cafés are not such a thing. Instead, people gather at homes or in public places outside for attaya (ceremonial serving of tea). Following tradition, the tea is generally prepared by men because women do all of the other work at home. The tea process is longer, with many rounds of boiling and tasting and boiling again, and a time-consuming foaming process. I’ve been told that the foam is really just for aesthetic pleasure (which was done to a lesser extent in Morocco), but also as a way to pass the time. In comparison, the drinking part happens quickly. There are usually only a couple glasses to be shared between many, so you’ve got to down your tea and pass the glass back to be refilled for the next person. It’s about sharing what little there is and spending time together.

Despite similarities in religion, history, relative geography, and linguistic situations, these are not the factors that link these two African cultures. I know I still have a lot to learn to understand Senegal and its culture, but I have already seen its spirit. Given its similarity to the warm, welcoming, community spirit that I loved in Morocco, I can’t wait to see what the rest of the semester has in store.