Sunday with the Monks

October 31, 2008

Bright sunshine illuminated the grounds of Keur Moussa when we rolled in at 8:30 a.m. Not entirely sure when the mass would start, we had left Dakar at 7 a.m. sharp in order to get to this Benedictine monastery (founded about an hour outside of Senegal’s capital back in 1962) on time. On the way, we stopped at a tangana to have a delectable smooshed pea sandwich (see http://www.traveling-stories-magazine.com/fried-egg-sandwich-a-la-senegalaise/#more-385) and some sweet milky coffee.

Mass did not actually begin until 10, but many of the monks were walking about chatting quietly to one another while others were practicing their music. The brothers wore extremely simple tunics made of coarse white cloth tied with slender brown ropes around their waists, and most wore sandals. There were a few older white monks, generally French or Franco-Canadian, but many were young Senegalese who appeared to be no older than their late twenties, leading me to wonder what it was that made them decide to enter monastic life so early on.

It is true that the place exudes a wonderful stillness and
tranquility: I think the inhabitants are less than very concerned with
bailouts, subprime mortgages and all the other things occupying minds
more concerned with conventional notions of success. I understand that
male visitors can even stay at the monastery, and women may be
received in the nunnery called Keur Guilaye – I find the idea
strangely tempting after the hustle and bustle of Dakar, and friends
tell me that vacationing in monasteries and nunneries has become quite
popular in Europe as well.

Since we had arrived so early, we stopped at a nearby
auberge/restaurant called Le Figuier run by a Peulh from the north of
the country. I learned this after asking about the scarification marks
on his face which resembled sets of quotation marks high on his
cheekbones. I had been astonished, as I did not know the practice
continues today in parts of Senegal. This led me to do a bit of
research on scarification more generally, which one observer described
as ‘une carte d’identité sur le visage,’ or an identity card on one’s
face, revealing as it does all sorts of complex information concerning
social status and ethnicity. That might be an interesting subject for
another article; the rooms we saw at the Figuier, at any rate, were
immaculate and the service impeccable, and we relished the early
morning birdsong as we sipped our coffee.

Close to ten, we returned for the mass, which required just as much
standing up and sitting down as any other Catholic service, but which
was infinitely more enjoyable to me because it took place in a
half-indoor, half-outdoor setting and was accompanied by traditional
Senegalese instruments such as the kora (a string instrument which is
plucked, resulting in a light and beautiful harp-like sound) and the
balofon, a delightful percussive instrument that somewhat resembles a
large wooden xylophone. If you are curious to hear what some African
church music sounds like, the following site offers a selection,
including some music sung in Keur Moussa – just click on the part that
says ECOUTEZ to listen once you get to the main page of
www.senkto.org.

The monastery has a small gift shop offering grapefruit fresh from the monastery’s own trees, syrups of bissap and tamarind, mango, breadfruit and bissap and other varieties of homemade jam, as well as goat cheese. The outing was uneventful in the best possible sense of the word – we felt soothed and revived and inspired to sing joyously a cappella all the way home (though given our limited musical abilities it was more Ella and Rodgers and Hammerstein than Palestrina or Beethoven…)

About the Author : Tamara-Diana Braunstein brings us her stories from Senegal every week. She was born in Brooklyn, New York. She is a restless wanderer who earned an MA from the University of Freiburg and has worked in a youth hostel in the French Alps, a law firm in Montreal, the Metropolitan Museum of Art as well as in university press publishing. At the moment her home base is Dakar, Senegal, where she is supposed to be teaching but is doing far more learning, as you will see by reading her blog at www.senegalschoolmarm.blogspot.com