The morning of Monday, November 16, I went to the garden to water and then headed home for a slow pilates session in my hut before breakfast. Around 9:30 I got a phone call from my friend Seynabou (the woman with me when I had my crazy charette incident a year and a half ago) that went like this:
Me: Hello? Seynabou?
Seynabou (nervously): Khady? I have a baby.
M: You do?!?! When?
S: Now...
M: Where are you?
S: Djilor. I need you to go to my house and tell the people there I have a baby.
M: Ok...wait, boy or girl?
S (...): boy
M: Boy? Great!
(called back shortly after...)
M: I told them. Everyone is very happy. Are you happy?
S: Yes, but I wanted a girl. Are you happy?
M: Of course, don't be silly!...I'm coming to Djilor now, see you soon!
Seynabou's water broke at 2am, labor started at 5am, and she arrived at the health post in Djilor around 8:40am, gave birth at 9:10am, and was on a donkey charette headed back to the village by 12-noon! No way!
As the conversation says, I hurried my butt to Djilor to see Seynabou and meet her baby and was then given the enormous honor of carrying the baby all of the way back to our village on the charette (perhaps one of the most terrifying charette rides of my life...). People were shocked and amazed that I went all of the way to the health post only to turn around and come back, but it was worth it to see the baby and support my closest friend in the village. I spent the entire day at her house and most of the following few days, doing nothing more than sitting around and holding the baby, but absorbing as much quality time with a child I will barely know because my time in Senegal is quickly drawing to a close.
So, for those of you who don't know, "James" is not a typical name for a Muslim baby. In fact, little James Diouf (pr Juuf) was named after my American father. Seynabou had long been talking about how she wanted a girl so she could name her after me as a symbol of our friendship (and so she could have an extra hand to help around the house: she so far has just 1 girl and 2 boys), but alas God had different plans. Later that Monday, Seynabou's husband approached me and asked "what's your older brother's name?" Surprised upon realizing I don't have a brother (he should have asked his wife, she knows), he then asked my dad's name. "huh? Jaamesssy?...James...Ok, I will talk with some Catholic Sereres and investigate..." Though he talked about naming the baby after my dad, I didn't actually think it would happen. I mean, doesn't the kid need a Muslim name? But no, in fact, the baby was actually named James! The morning of the baptism/naming ceremony, an older woman in the village who was in charge of shaving the baby's hair (Muslim custom) asked Seynabou "James? Can't we just call him Mohammed?" Haha, almost the same! Seynabou was adament and when the name was shared in front of everyone the morning of the baptism, a large roar went up as everyone expressed their delight in the "birth of Khady's father" and started demanding money from me. Alas!
In West African tradition, giving one's child the name of a friend or loved one is an enormous honor. Many PCVs leave Senegal with a child named specifically after them (their Senegalese not American names), but I have not had quite that same luck. One sister wanted to name her baby after me in April, but had a boy and named him Ndar, though he has been nicknamed "James" Ndar after my dad. Another sister had a girl, but named her Fatou and nicknamed her Fatou "Khady," calling her my namesake though she was really named after someone else. My whole village feels for me and points out how "I don't have luck" with having a namesake and I just laugh it off. I thought Seynabou might name the baby after George and was thus extremely surprised, pleased, and honored that Seynabou and Adou named their son after my dad. Some of the older people in their compound are having trouble, but learning, how to pronounce the name. I am very humbled to know that my memory will live on as this child grows up and hopefully goes on to amazing things, A feelanga Roog. It's amazing and now I find that all I want to do is sit with my "dad" and laugh as everyone tries to say his name.
Baby James, Me, and Seynabou on the day of the baptism. Maybe I will write more about the actual baptism next time...pictures will definitely be on picasa as soon as the internet cooperates enough to do so in a speedy manner. [btw there is another Baby James in the area, James Sarr...Jaime's counterpart's wife gave birth a year ago and named their baby after Jaime's US father as well. They should start a club!]
