By Heidi Foon

As a Gambian-American, I often joke that I was born in the U.S. but raised in a Gambian household. Born to immigrant parents from The Gambia, I was exposed early to the many facets of West African culture. From the food, to the style of dance, to the cultural attire, I felt that I was set to embark on what I thought would be a well-familiarized experience in Senegal. Although many cultural components are shared between Gambians and Senegalese, there is something about Senegal that makes them distinct and shines a scintillating light on its culture—Teranga.

What is Teranga? To state simply, Teranga is the identity of Senegal. It permeates, transcends and embodies everyday life for the Senegalese. When it comes to hospitality, guests are treated like royalty, literally, and there’s even a proverb that proves it. The proverb states, Soo amee gunn, teral ko nikki lanuy terale buur, which means if you have guests treat them like we would a king. There is such high regard held to those who sacrifice their time to make a visit to one’s home. We might think in the U.S. that a visit to see someone is just a check-in. No, not in Senegal. Be expected to be asked to have everything under the sun. Considering I lived in the south for a long time, I’m no stranger to “southern hospitality.” Trust me when I say, Teranga in Senegal most certainly takes the cake.

A host does everything that he/she can to make their guest happy because a good visit will forever be etched in memory. I suppose one would expect for the Senegalese to exhume such hospitality because it is a communalistic culture. It doesn’t matter where you come from, what language you speak or what skin color you have—you are home. Those who have tabe (generosity) in their hearts practice Teranga. When one is hosting, the expectation is to make their guests feel as if they are in the comfort of their own home. Talk about high expectations!

As the saying goes, home is where the heart is. And in Senegal, the heart is in Teranga. For example, Jërejëf, which means thank you, is not followed by “you’re welcome;” it’s followed by Ñokk bokk, which means “it is for us both.” Acts of service and kindness in Senegal are not seen as favors one must pay back; the act of providing is done with the intention to give because the act itself benefits not only the receiver but the giver as well. The proverb, Nitay garab am, says that people are people’s medicine. You never know how something as simple as a house visit might be most impactful in bringing joy into one’s heart.

Spending my year abroad in Senegal has shaped my perspectives on the world differently (sounds deep, but not really). Everything we do in this world is either of service to ourselves or to someone else. Government officials are elected to serve their constituents, teachers in schools provide education as a service to their students, development projects are implemented with the premise to serve underprivileged populations, and the list goes on. Teranga has taught me that despite our differences, we are all the same. We are all human and we should respect each other as such. I will leave this country with greater tabe in my heart, and for that, I am thankful.