C'est quoi, colbet?

Since Dakar is really a very small town of 3 million people, it came as no surprise that I bumped into an old colleague on Saturday when I was visiting another friend who runs a top-notch non-profit organization here. I first met said colleague, a history professor at the university, when he was visiting East Lansing in 1995 for a conference on Islam in Senegal. I probably haven't seen him in four or five years but he is a real gem--a true intellectual, creative thinker, and all-around wonderful man.

He asked me if I remembered when we first met (I did not). Apparently I had been sent to pick him up at the Lansing airport, and when I spotted him coming from his gate I greeted him in a fast stream of Wolof. Not only did I go through all of the standard greetings, but I must have really been on a roll because I also told him that my nickname was colbet (CHOL-bet). The nickname in and of itself is somewhat pedestrian, but the word colbet suggests a knowledge of rural flora and fauna that no Dakarois would have. As he recalled on Saturday, he was astounded to be met with such "deep Wolof" in East Lansing, Michigan, of all places.

If I had to have an animal totem, a colbet would be a pretty great match. It is a small bird that flits about, has lots of energy, and even when it comes to rest it is still in constant motion with a "wagging tail". For you birders out there, I think a colbet is either a white or gray wagtail.

In any event, I had all but forgotten this nickname until my historian friend brought it up. I do think I have mellowed somewhat since my 20's when the nickname was bestowed on me, but it still seems a propos. And so here I am, colbet, come from my rural roots in Ganjool and Ndar to roost in the big city of Ndakaaru for nine months. Hence my blog, Colbet in Dakar.