In Bayakh! And it's...

Overwhelming, overstimulating, incredible... There is at least one moment every day, though often two or three or four, when I think that this experience is the coolest and bravest thing I've ever done. Those moments usually come when I'm sitting in on family planning sessions with 40 Senagelese village women, or when I'm talking with case de santé (public health clinics on a village level) volunteers about why they are thrilled that USAID is working with them. I've been completely shocked by the 100% support everyone seems to feel towards the work of USAID in these communities. I had expected at least a little resentment, perhaps some initial unease, but what I keep hearing over and over is the feeling that the Senegalese government can't do everything (a sentiment that is somewhat jarring for me and a little frustrating -- why shouldn't the government be able to provide health care for it's citizens? Why is that the US government's job?) But regardless, since the government isn't helping properly, the work of USAID is essential and highly appreciated. By and large people wish that USAID would help in more ways besides just health care and health education. It's fascinating and inspiring and really a rare privilege I think to see how grateful these people are for my tax dollars, hard at work.

At the same time, there is at least one moment every day, though often two or three or four, when I think that this experience is the hardest, most exhausting, most uncomfortable thing I've ever subjected myself to, and I wish I could retreat into "my" room in "my" house (read: the room that I'm renting, which reminds me a lot of a dorm room,) or back to my friends in Dakar, or to a television set or somewhere that wasn't the realities of being a white American in a rural (not even super, super rural) village. I make babies cry sometimes; they've never seen a white person before and don't know what to make of me. I'm pretty sure the town I'm staying in, Bayakh, has never had a toubab (white person) in town for this long, maybe even for a visit, who knows... The villages I'm working in are all within a dozen kilometers of Bayakh, most much closer than that, but I'm positive that many of them have never ever had a white person visit. Children legitimately scream toubab at me sometimes -- the only white skin they've ever seen before is on TV -- and then follow me around the village and gape. Today I had someone on the community for public health in the village I was in tell me how much he hopes we'll keep in touch because he really wants to move to America but the visa is near impossible to obtain; didn't I want an African husband, though? Maybe he could come live with me? Wouldn't I give him my address and phone number in the States? And this is someone who I was kind of working with, who had been giving me information on health statistics in his village not even two hours before! I felt so awkward wanting nothing but to say "déedéet, baay ma" (no, leave me) but I couldn't... Even more regularly people will say in Wolof, to me or to their friends near me, "Tell the toubab to give me money!" Or women grab my hand to look at my rings and say "That's pretty; give it to me." Men feel a strange need to tell me how many wives they have, and to talk about how great it is to have at least two. (Talk about polygammy being a recurring theme in my semester...) I frequently sit for over an hour in a meeting where I have no idea what's been said. And despite feeling like my French is pretty good, sometimes Roger (the guy I'm shadowing, who is being beyond incredibly helpful even if he is at times a little awkward) has a weird accent that I find almost unintelligible, and I have to ask him to repeat an explanation three or four times... Most days I'm shocked when I collapse into bed to find myself exhausted, even after having slept for 9 or 10 hours the night before.

Needless to say this is a once in a lifetime experience... Internet time is a little pricey here so I'm keeping this post short (plus the keyboard is kind of funky, so it takes me a long time to type) but I'll try to post again later this week. Suffice it to say though that I'm learning a lot, both about development work and about myself, and that I'm safe and healthy and trucking along. Many, many bisous (kisses) from this tiny cyber!