Run, Toubab, Run!

I went for a run today. I was bored with my usual route along Stadium Highway and sick of breathing in exhaust fumes, so I decided to try a new loop one of the other girls had shown me. This loop ran past a women's collective garden. It was much greener and much prettier.

As I huffing my along my way, I jogged past a group of little boys. "Give me dalasi!" called out one of the boys. "No money!" I said and kept on puffing along. A little farther along there was another group of boys. One of the boys approached me as he opened his mouth I cut him off. "You give me dalasi?" He gaped at me confused. I jogged a few more steps and another boy approached me. "Any minties?" I said. (Minties are what Gambian children call candy). "Any minties?" I repeat, hand outstretched. A few of the boys were very confused, but most of them laughed.

As I continued along my route, I noticed I had a shadow. The boy who had asked me for dalasis was running along behind me. When he saw me looking, he grinned. I grinned back and picked up the pace so that he wouldn't think I was a wimp. We got to the end of the road and I stopped. "Now we go back," I said to the boy, pointing back to the way we came. I started jogging again and he fell in behind me.

We got back to where his buddies were and they shrieked with laughter to see the two of us running together. I waved at them and kept running. Three more boys fell in behind me. With my bright green tank top I imagine looked like a scruffy and confused pied piper.

A woman working in one of the gardens seemed to have the same impression. She called something to me in a local language. I have no idea which language she was speaking, let alone what she said,but I imagine it was something along the lines of "Why are you kidnapping children?" Having nothing else to say I said what I always said in that situation.
"Asalamalakum," the standard Arabic greeting. I smile at her trying my best not to look like a kidnapper.
"Malakum salam," she replies, smiling back. "Suemolay?" Ah, she's Mandinka.
"Eebeejay," I answer back, thrilled to know the proper response. The boys are thrilled, too.
"Etonday?"
"Sarah!" Once again I am thrilled to know what she is asking. The boys laugh at my enthusiastic answer to a mundane question. "Etonday?" I ask the woman, grinning.
"Mariama," she answers laughing. At this point, I've exhausted my entire knowledge of the Mandinka language). I thank her ("Abaraka!") and wave good bye. She laughs again and waves back. The boys wave, too.

We keep jogging for another few minutes. We stop when we reach Stadium Highway. "I have to go home now," I tell the boys. "Did you have a good run?" They reply yes in way which could mean "Yes, the run was fun" or "Yes, I understand you are speaking English." Using a combination of Mandinka, English and hand gestures I find out their names. "Thank you for running with me," I say before crossing the street. When I look back, the boys are racing and shouting back up the road to their playmates.

All in all, I'd say it was a good run.