It’s just child’s play

As I’ve mentioned earlier, I live with an 8 year old boy who I’m pretty sure is my nephew, or cousin? Honestly not quite sure, but the beauty of familial relationships in Senegal is that it truly does not matter. Family is family, and even friends are family. That’s that. Wow, if we could only live this way back in the States.

Anyways, I’ve been trying to connect with this little boy, Manchiarno, ever since I became part of the family. It’s very difficult because we don’t share a common language, so a simple smile and handshake had to do.

The other day, I remembered I had brought a game of pick up sticks, something I loved playing as a child. I tried to formulate how exactly I would explain the point of the game in the few French words I knew. After much time deliberating this in my head, I decided I was just going to have to wing it. So I grab the game, approach Manchiarno and give him my classic smile. As he was beginning to leave to go upstairs I uttered one of the few Wolof words I know, “Kai,” meaning “come.” With a big smile on his face and a look of curiosity in his eyes, he followed me to the living room, unsure of what was to come next. Honestly, I was thinking the exact same thing.

I sat down on the floor and opened the game. Taking all the sticks in my hand I dropped it on the floor, creating a disorganized pile. To play the game, one must attempt to pick up a stick without moving any of the other sticks, or else you lose a turn. I tried to show Machiarno by using another stick, how to play, but he didn’t really follow. He thought we were just supposed to organize the colors of the sticks as a pattern. “Ok,” I thought, “ this could work, I mean he probably thinks this is the dumbest game ever, but let’s just go with it.” I then decided to try and set it up like Jenga and build a structure from which we had to try to pull the sticks out. He thought we were building a house. “Ok sure let’s build a house. Honestly as long as he still has a smile on his face, that’s all that matters.”

Adama, the housekeeper, came over to see what we were doing. She rolled out a mat for us to sit on as we played. She then saw that I was trying to move a stick from the pile without moving the rest of the sticks; my second attempt at showing Manchiarno how to play the actual game. She immediately knew what I was trying to do and started playing the game with me, as it is supposed to be played. Manchiarno finally caught on and we spent the next hour playing multiple rounds of pick up sticks. Although three words were spoken between us for the entirety of the hour: “Oui, combien, bien,” my relationships with the both of them elevated to another level than what they had been at for the past week.

Through this interaction, I realized the significance of a game, not only with establishing a connection with children, but adults as well. A game facilitates, a shared goal, a little competition, and unity between the parties involved. So never write off a seemingly simple game as mere “child’s play;” because you never know when it will act as a bridge between cultures, between people. and between two different worlds.

Today, I came home and went to my room to soon hear a knock on my door. I opened it to find Manchiarno there to greet me; something he’s never done before. He then ran away quickly. As I looked out my door, I saw him waiting down the hall and told him to come back and give me a hug. His face immediately lit up as he ran to me and gave me the biggest embrace.

Like I said, child’s play.

https://video.wixstatic.com/video/8b7ecb_ac029af280fb4aa8a885e3e2390e0089/1080p/mp4/file.mp4