OMG, Vaidehi in Dakar!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last week I was with my dear Mame Fatou at her place in Guédiawaye. We were comparing boubous: we share tailor, Tafa, but I'm his only White client and he seems confused about the proportions of my body. I had just picked up the fourth boubou that he's made for me this year, and still, everytime the same thing happens: the skirt is enormous around by hips. Mame Fatou calls those extra pieces of fabric "my wings" and can't stop laughing everytime it happens. Then we go back to Tafa's, Mame Fatou says "hey Tafa, sokhna si has no meat yet!", comment to which Tafa's disaproving answer is always the same: "not yet!?!? And your jekker, your husband doesn't mind that you have no meat yet? It's about time you get a big bumb, you know." 

It's always like this: I'm given "wings" and then humiliated for not having meat to fill them in. Sigh.

We are in part 1 of the ritual ("Luna tries on her new boubou and finds out it's too big around the hips") when a piercing scream comes from the next room.

"OhmyGod ohmyGod ohmyGod Mame Fatouuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!!!!!! Vaidehi is in Dakar, ohmyGod ohmyGod ohmyGodddddddddd!!!!!!!!!

And Mame Fatou runs.

She leaves me there alone with my winged boubou.

I put on my pants and run to the next room, wondering who or what is Vaidehi. Stupid question, they look at me as if I had just came from Mars in a parachute.

[[Silent dialogue: these toubabs definitely are weird. Did you hear she doesn't know Vaidehi? (shaking of heads)]]

They are all standing around the tv, the 11 of them. Even Grandmother has stopped praying to touch the screen, from where a beautiful Indian woman smiles.

"I'm so happy to be visiting Dakar next week", read the subtitles in French. "I can't wait to meet my Senegalese fans in person." A few little excited screams around me.

Ok, so who is Vaidehi? I ask once everyone had calmed down. Awa looks at Ami, who looks at Rama, who looks at Mame Fatou, who says rolling her eyes: "Luuuuuuuuuuuuuuna, it's the famous actress!!"

Oh, yes. I think I saw her once in one of those soap operas where White people (this woman looks very white) do stupid things. She dances really well.

To be honest, I still don't really know who Vaidehi is. But I'm certain that if Michael Jackson got up from his grave he'd be jealous to see the excitement she's created in the capital. And here goes the reason why I wanted to share this story with you: a very funny cartoon I found in today's printed version of Le Quotidien :o)

PS Where's Wade? XD