“Djeneba”: my rebirth

I’ve made it home. Today we moved into our homestays which was one of the most nerve wracking experiences I’ve ever had. For starters, I’m shy around new people, especially when I’m staying in their house. Also let’s not forget, I don’t speak their language which makes communicating that much more difficult. I honestly thought it was going to be impossible to communicate, to find my role in this family, and mainly to feel at home.

Here I am now walking into these strangers’ house and I see a little boy through the doorway. “Thank goodness,” I say to myself, “kids make everything better.” This little boy runs up to me, going to grab what seemed like my bag so I said “Merci.” But he was trying to grab my hand and greet me with “Assala Makum.” But I gave him a friggin “thank you for taking my bags.” Great, so I already have made a mistake within the first seconds of being here.

But that’s the thing, this experience is all about making mistakes and finding your way, but taking time at doing so. I soon realized this once my host mom came home and immediately greeted me by calling me her daughter (don’t worry Cindy, you can never be replaced ;)). She then proceeded to teach me some words in Wolof so that I would feel more comfortable in their space and be able to communicate with the family. That first awkward interaction with the little boy, who I learned was my “nephew,” seemed like a distant memory.

After our Wolof lesson, my “Mama” decides that if I’m going to be learning their language, I also need to fit into their family. So she initiates me by giving me my Senegalese name, “Djeneba.” This meant the world to me. The fact that it didn’t matter that I stood out like a sore thumb based on how I looked and how I talked. She looked past my outward appearance and saw inside me a daughter of her own. She gave me my own name just like my parents did when I was first born. It was like my rebirth into a world which has opened my eyes for the better.

So yes, there is a long road ahead of me in terms of communicating with my family and the rest of the people in Dakar, but I now am known as Djeneba, which connects me to the country more than I ever could have imagined. I have a mom, a dad, a sister, three brothers, and a nephew who all welcomed me into their home and into their family, but not as Jenna; as Djeneba.