Done with my Internship Report!

It was a good thing, too, because that night was the anniversary celebration of the radio company in Soucouta. It was a huge party, and the audience was filled with people from both towns, and our troupe was part of an entire evening of acts and celebrations. The performance space was a little cramped, and they made the mistake of giving us two microphones to sing into (Being used to singing without mechanical help over the musicians, the microphones weren’t necessary and just blasted the audience with sound) but everyone was having fun. I was excited to do the solo dance I’d just learned, but unfortunately we started with Penille, and not Zowlin. This was a classic reason why I need more experience- the first dance was much faster than the other, and I tried to do the steps I’d learned, but it didn’t work as well as I wanted it to. Also, then I didn’t have anything left to do for when we did dance Zowlin, and when I started dancing, my mind blanked. I actually ended up resorting to American Appalachian clogging, a folk dance style that my mother taught me at about the age of ten. In front of the entire community and the troupe, I ended up improvising during an African ballet with American folkdancing.
And it seemed to work just fine. The troupe was confused, but liked it. I couldn’t stop laughing. Later I realized that at first I’d learned how to do the wrong thing, then tried and failed, then tried and succeeded at the wrong thing. That day I’d learned how to do the right thing, then tried and failed. And the next time I’d try and succeed. (Two days later, to be more accurate.) Writing about it now, I realize that to have done that, I needed to have been comfortable enough with the dance to improvise. Essentially, I did what everyone had been telling me to do- I took steps from another dance that worked for this rhythm, and put them in when I wanted to show off. And even though I really confused the musicians, everyone had a smile on their face, and I left the show feeling confident in what I’d learned.
That was also the night that Abdoulaye, Omar, and Maimouna got back from the conference at Fatick. For the past three days they had been at a seminar of different regional performing groups, learning new ballets and other dance styles with representatives from several different regions, in a sort of cultural exchange weekend. It would have been amazing if I could have gone along, and that idea was thrown out, but whoever was in charge of the conference said that since I already was a student I couldn’t go. In hindsight it was much better that experienced members went, since this year only three people instead of five from each region could go. Also, from what they later told me, the weekend was very useful and very difficult. They all came back with aching muscles and didn’t perform the night they got back, and didn’t dance or play for the next few days, to recover. I would still have loved to have gone just to see how they all learned from each other, and to see the variety of styles the regions had to offer.
It was a very exciting time for me to intern with the troupe. There were a lot of ideas floating around about what a Cultural Association should be, and how to help it grow in a town (and a country) that is trying to support itself on performance when the tourism industry is rapidly disappearing. The two troupes had just joined into one, first of all. Also, there was the interest in creating a web site, which I tried to help with but couldn’t get enough information in time. There were also plans forming for a cultural center- a building where the troupe could perform and rehearse. People were constantly talking about the lack of a rehearsal space, and they wanted performance space that would pay more fairly than the hotels, on the troupe’s own terms. We talked also about the need for an office, and storage space for instruments. In fact, while I was there a representative from the Minster of Culture came to discuss some kind of government grant that would go towards building this Cultural Center building. (I would have gone to the meetings, but it was last-minute and I didn’t find out until later what was going on.) It was clear that the artists in the Fatick region were in the middle of re-thinking how to keep traditional arts alive in an increasingly modernized (and globalized) world.

INTERVIEWS
I did several interviews, formal and informal, to get a general idea of the community, the Europeans, and the troupe’s view of Allah Lake and its relationship with the town. I first interviewed some members of the troupe: Bathie, Abdoulaye, Salif, and Ibou. I recorded it on my laptop, but it was still pretty informal. I asked about how and why they had joined the troupe, about how many people were in the troupe, and their personal opinions on art and music. It was very interesting to hear both musicians and dancers, and this group also included some of the older and one of the younger men in the group. I learned about how some of them had gone to Koranic school, some had dropped out of a formal education, and some had finished but not chosen to go to university. It was so cool just sitting and talking about music, and how each of them stressed that they had grown up with it- it was in their blood. They treated performing as an identity, not just a job or “something to do”. And they all stressed the idea of passing on the traditions and teaching others.
One thing that I noticed, though, was that it was the younger troupe members who talked about the need to advertise. Ibou mentioned how Allah Lake was “hidden talent” because no one outside of the area knew it existed. He wanted to make a website so that the troupe could get more performance options. Abdoulaye and Salif added that often when an older artist dies, all of his art goes with him because there’s been no way of recording- it’s all passed from person to person. They all had as a common goal the need to preserve the traditional dances and music, and what differed was how to do that.
I also interviewed two Belgian women who had come for two weeks and had been at every show, who had made friends with some of the troupe members. I tried to interview the Swiss students but they were too busy- I did have a very nice conversation with their teacher though, and learned a lot about that program. I spoke a lot with Didier regarding his experience with taking djembe lessons from Ibou and Samba, but didn’t get a chance to record any official interviews. Judging from the interviews, and speaking with audience members after shows, everyone was amazed not only by the shows themselves but also with how friendly and welcoming the group members are towards guests.
Unofficial interviews worked better for me, for the time I had. I found out quite a lot not only by official interviews or even pointed conversations, but also from paying attention to small comments put in by the people around me. I learned that the oldest girl in the troupe was 23, and she was the only one who wasn’t married with a child. I also learned that the women most likely wouldn’t keep dancing after they’d had a second baby. I learned by watching and listening to my family talk to each other, that my young cousin wasn’t allowed to grow rasta/dreds (he’s fifteen) because he was part of a very respected and religious and honorable family. While no one actually said anything about rasta hair, this was very telling. It also made me think about what that might entail considering most of the men in the troupe had done their hair in dreds.
I tried to interview my sister Fatou about the community’s view on the troupe members. She said very carefully that everyone in the town thought that everyone in the troupe was a perfectly respectful, kind, cultural ambassador and that no one had any problems. She said this, I know, because I was recording her. I know that several of the members of the troupe are seen that way, but I know a few of the younger drummers are seen more as bandits, and judging by the unvoiced opinion of my family on just the way they all wear their hair, I know the general view of the artists is more complicated than a without-exception, universal appreciation for every single person in the almost 30-person troupe. I wish I had had more time, but I couldn’t quite figure out how to pose the right questions in the right settings to find out exactly what the community’s opinion was of the artists as people, rather than just “they give amazing shows”.


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CONCLUSION
The day before I left Toubacouta I spoke to Bathie Ndiaye. He was uncharacteristically sentimental about me leaving, and was sure to invite me to come back as soon as I could. He said I really had become a member of the troupe, and was impressed with how quickly I’d learned the ballets but also how completely I’d thrown myself into the work, not hesitating or holding back. He once again reinforced the idea of cultural exchange, and made me promise I’d teach other people back home what I’d learned. He said that since I’d started learning with the troupe now it would be easy to come back and learn more, and I’d have to keep dancing and drumming in the States in between visits. I tried to respond but couldn’t find the words in French or Wolof to accurately express my feelings. Every single member of Allah Lake had become an older sibling to me, and I really am grateful to all of them for being so welcoming and willing to teach an inexperienced toubab like me.
I have every intention of going back to Toubacouta, and continuing to learn West African dance and drumming. The experience I had was so much more than I could have hoped and the connections and friendships I made were more than I ever expected. Had my internship just been restricted to performances and the official rehearsals, I wouldn’t have learned anything. It was everyone in the troupe that kept teaching me; during rehearsal, during performances, after performances, and during the days where nothing was scheduled. From the first week copying steps behind the other girls before a show to the Wednesday before I left when I learned to eat fire (I decided if I left without even trying, I’d never forgive myself for passing up that chance), it was the individuals who actively included me and welcomed me into What We Do. And I will always be grateful for that.