Mainly, I started by asking basic questions about the micro-loan that the individual or group had received. When did they get it? How much was it? Was it divided up or used for a group project? When were the repayments due? What was the project they pursued? I’d ask some questions about the economic activities they participated in, trying to get a sense of what an average day was like for the entrepreneur. I tried to ask a lot of specific questions about equipment and prices and types of goods sold, so as to provide a more detailed picture for the reader. Then, I’d ask the interviewee if they minded me asking some personal questions (no one ever said they minded), and I would ask about the recipients family situation.
I liked hearing about people’s families and children, actually. I tried to stay mostly professional, but I’d often interject, ‘Oh, that’s how old my sister is!’ or to ask questions about if the kids were in school. The worst part was having to ask people how old they were, how many children they had, or how old their children were. About 75% of the time, the person I was interviewing didn’t know the answer to these questions. They would sort of shrug and look at my interpreter or village guide for help. They would put forward some guesses. How old is your oldest child? Twenty-four? Well, she was born in, um, 19….86…, no, 1987, so… [Here I might help them out – Oh, I was born in 1987, so she must be 21 years old, like me.] Yes, they would nod, yes, that’s it. Most ended up counting their children on their hands. Occasionally when I interviewed both a husband and a wife, separately, I would get different numbers of children. I eventually figured out some of the many reason that could have been responsible for what seemed to me to be a bizarre lack of awareness on their part.
- It’s not cultural accepted to “count” your blessings. That means that traditionally in Senegal (so, very much in the rural villages and to some extent in Dakar) you do not tell how many children you have, or give your age in years. To do so would be to tempt fate, to dare God to cut short your life or take your children away from you.
- In Senegal you give your age using your year of birth, not the number of years you’ve been alive. (Possibly for the reasons mentioned above).
- Especially in the rural villages, the number of children that are ‘yours’ isn’t always a simple concept. Senegal is polygamous, and multiple wives can feel a kinship to eachothers children. Some families I spoke with were also helping out with taking care of their nieces or nephews, or had adopted children whose families had died or were unable to take care of them.
I learned to ask these questions in an apologetic manner. I would explain why we liked to ask personal questions. I explained what the Kiva website did, and how the people who financed their loans were often not rich donors but average citizens. Us Americans, I said, we’re so curious! I like to write about your family and the foods you sell so that we can get an idea about what Senegal is like. Despite the fact that I demonstrated that I understood the cultural norms, I was still breaking them in asking my questions. However, not a single person ever appeared to be upset at my questions or imply that I was rude in asking. It gets rather repetitive in this blog for me to tell you over and over how kind, warm, welcoming, and polite everyone in Senegal is, I know. But I can’t imagine people in the States responding as kindly if I had asked something as culturally inappropriate as, ‘How much do you weigh’, to people I barely knew.
After a while it was less shocking to me to have someone look blank at the question, ‘How old are you?’. Still, I had to wonder at the difference between my life and theirs when I found myself asking, “How many children do you have… just approximately?”.
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