Thursday on the Beach

Gave my presentation this morning! Between my lecture and the question and answer session immediately following it was 45 minutes long, and I certainly could have spoken for half an hour longer without coming close to running out of things to say. I was the very last of 26 presentations on Senegalese Arts, Culture, and Happenings, with today's theme being development and organizations. First was a presentation on the informal Senegalese economy, specifically women who work out of their homes selling things from chickens to wax fabric to little frozen creams in plastic bags. Then was a presentation on the Centre Culturelle Blaise Senghor, a government-funded cultural center designed to support and protect Senegalese culture. Then came a look at the environmental problems of Dakar, easily the dirtiest city I have ever visited, and what is being done to fix the underlying issues. And last but not least, me! On the work of USAID, how it's promoting sustainable development by teaching villagers how to run their own clinics, and how local culture is remaining vibrant while communities strive to alleviate the hardships of poverty. (If you want a copy of my paper to read, I would be more than flattered to email it out to you! I need to do a little touching up, but it's certainly an incredible testament to American tax dollars hard at work, effectively combatting one of the many challenges Senegal must overcome to enrich the lives of its poorest citizens.) Now summer vacation officially begins.

We were handed back today letters to ourselves that we wrote our first week in Senegal -- mine was written my first night in my homestay -- the point of which is to compare our thoughts and impressions from the beginning with our feelings and understanding now. Shockingly enough, much of what I wrote then remain my sentiments at present. From the always juxtaposed modern and traditional influences here, to the overwhelmingly friendly yet jarringly forceful character of many Senegalese people, the cultural analyses I made in that first week have only been deepened and strengthened over the 14 weeks since then. It makes me realize how much is left to learn about this country and this culture -- just how different this is than the United States, and how I haven't yet mastered how to balance my feelings of the universality of all cultures, meaning the similarities I see here, with the huge differences that have defined my every day since February 1st. Tomorrow the first batch of students leave, though for most of us it's not until Saturday. Still, Saturday... I wouldn't want to be here very much longer after the program ends I don't think, I'd feel purposeless, but I could absolutely do another independent study for four more weeks and be beyond content. I feel like I just found my sea legs here, and it's sad to now be leaving. This week on the beach has been wonderful for reflecting though, and even in this moment as I write I am looking out over the most breathtaking beach landscape as the sun is just starting to begin it's descent into the ocean. It's crystal clear to me why the tourists from France and Italy come here -- besides the fact that it's so much cheaper than vacationing in Europe, the beach is beautiful and ideal for lounging about if you can handle the occasionally abrasive Senegalese men, boys and merchants who might pester you while you tan. It's so beautiful and calming. Strong waves, crisp and chill water, thick and hot sun, and large, palm-like fronds and white and pink daffodil-looking flowers serve as garnish around the fences and banisters in all parts of the campement. It's breathtaking.

I'm starting to come to terms with leaving, little pieces bit by bit. The idea of things being so much more expensive. The concept of cleanliness, of super-markets, of hot showers out of a shower-head, they all will be new and highly stimulating at first. I don't know if it's good or bad that I'm delaying my cultural re-entry by two weeks to tour around Europe, though I do hope that a week in Paris and a week in Barcelona will be the perfect 21st birthday present to myself. Maybe staying busy will make the challenges less overwhelming. Inchalla, god willing.

I am going to miss so many things about this place and my life here. Speaking in three languages all the time. Having new challenges and adventures every day. The wonderful people I have become close to here, Senegalese and other American students alike. Re-conceptualizing the value of relationships and time -- now that I've adjusted to the Senegalese way, it's hard to imagine enjoying a routine with no daily greetings, with no excessive lounging, with any type of pressing schedule. I'm going to miss the beautiful weather every day without fail. I'll be overwhelmed I'm guessing by the colors of nature, as even here in this hotel the trees and flowers are more natural beauty than I've seen in weeks. The colors of wall murals and clothing are commonly pause-worthy, but the idea of a park or a forest seems completely foreign to me right now. It's fascinating how quickly we adjust to new and different things when we need to -- it seems like not that long ago that I was talking about how one of the things I miss most about Seattle when I'm in New York is how much greenery there is in the Northwest all the time. To think that now I'm scared of seeing so many plants, so little dirt, so little sand.

No news from Diarra, which I'm hoping is good news. Soukeyna and Aby have been sick this week as well, but it sounds like everyone is plowing through. Haven't spoken to them since Tuesday night though, so I'll call again soon.

Think I'm going to finish up on the computer and take a little walk on the beach now, keep my head clear. I feel very at peace, though sad about leaving to be sure. It's just wild that the semester flew by like this. Even when I knew it would. Makes me realize just how strong I can be when I think about how much I already yearn to have an adventure like this again despite all the hard parts, maybe in a new place, maybe back in Senegal. Lots of reflecting and processing left to do before then though, that is certain. Bisous. (Kisses.) 

Beach Week at Mbour

It's pretty surreal. Here I am in my final week here, in a beach resort campement on la petite cote (the little coast, south of Dakar) listening to everyone else talk about what they did for the past four weeks. I'm not sure this finale ever seemed like it would really happen. The schedule for the week is pretty incredible -- let me recount my schedule from today. We had three presentations this morning from 9 to 11 AM, one on how artists in Dakar perceive their work and are inspired to create, another on Senegalese rap (it's origins and the differences between it and rap in the States,) and one on Latin American telenovellas (daytime soaps) and how and why they are so readily consumed here by this completely different culture. Then I went into the town of Mbour, maybe a 15 minute drive from the beach, and went to the main market there -- the first time in weeks that I've at all enjoyed being a consumer. Lunch was at 1, which is early for Senegal, but at least was still a classic meal of fish balls and onion sauce which is much more delicious than it sounds. Then I spent an hour and a half on the beach, swimming and sun bathing. From 3 to 5:30 PM were three more presentations, these all on Senegalese music. One on the kora which is half way between a harp and a guitar, one on traditional Wolof songs, and the last on the djembe drum. Then I spent an hour and a half prepping for my presentation (the very last one in the entire group, which will be Thursday morning) which was perhaps the least fun part of my day as it is clear to me that I have way too much to say than will fit in a 20 minute time-slot, even with 15 minutes for questions at the end... But rather than let that stress me out, I just went back to the beach with a beer and remembered that this is a beautiful country and that my life here is incredible -- the presentation will be fine and I don't care to stress about it. Dinner was at 8, followed by a screening of the most fabulous short film called "Binta's Great Idea," which apparently won a prize at Cannes a few years ago. It was filmed in Casamance, the region in southern Senegal south of the Gambia which is off limits to us on this program because of a State Department warning. It's the only part of the country with regular civil strife and sometimes even land-mines, all stemming from a complicated history involving post-colonial national identities and regional politicking. It was wild though to watch a film, a beautiful piece of cinema, that looked exactly like what I've been living. It's weird to think about my life here that way, I think it had just finally started to become real to me and not like a sort of fiction.

In general, I'm doing great. But this has been one of the most challenging weeks of my semester, to be sure. Within 72 hours, I had three major and significant things happen. First, I finished my 52 page paper on USAID. As I was writing the dedication, I legitimately burst into tears. To think that I conducted this research, lived in a town as the only white person resident for two and a half weeks, did all this research and synthesis and writing, and had a finished project to turn in on time, it was just amazing. I've learned so much about development work, about poverty, about myself, about the role of the United States in the world and the capacity of people and organizations to give to each other in means appropriate to what they have... it's just incredible to me. But I was pretty pressed for time and stressed out about it all week. I also then made the mistake of rereading my paper on the njaaga njaay (white mini-bus slash van carrying 40 people at once for the equivalent of about 25 cents a ride) back to my apartment, where of course I found sections that were written badly and typos. Because that's what happens when you rush and stress and run out of time. But on the whole, and especially once I do some editing for my own peace of mind, it will be a piece of work I am incredibly proud of. I'm so impressed by how much I accomplished. So yes, first I finished the paper. Then, I said goodbye to my very best Senegalese friends on Saturday, which was emotional and made more difficult by the fact that I still wasn't leaving the country for over a week. If I wasn't emotionally spent enough after those two things, on my last night in Dakar I ended up meeting my homestay family in the children's hospital Albert Waye for a stressful few hours where I thought my baby sister Diarra was on the verge of death. The back-story there is that last weekend she was in a coma (I found this out when I went over there for dinner last Monday) and they rushed her to the hospital where she came out of it within 24 hours. But Monday night had it's own scare -- she was saying that her head hurt, she wasn't eating, she seemed really out of it... She is 2, so it wasn't unusual for her to be tired at 11 PM, but when she fell asleep we were all so nervous that we woke her again, at which point she screamed and cried until she fell back asleep again. I was over there Tuesday and she seemed totally normal, Wednesday too, as Wednesday was Soukeyna's 6th birthday. But on Saturday, even after Bashir had told one of our staff members, Bouna, that he would be at our final party (fete finale) to celebrate the end of the semester, nobody from my family showed up. I walked over there that night to say goodbye, only to find that no one was even home. I texted Aby to say that I would try to come see her on my last day in Dakar before I head to the airport, and she immediately called me back to apologize for missing the event. "We're at the hospital -- Diarra's running a fever." After learning that she was alone there with both the girls, in need of a friend and some help, I booked it over to her in a cab. Diarra was incredibly sick -- a fever of 42 degrees which I think translates to be roughly 107 F. I'm shocked she's still alive. For a little while Aby had to run to the pharmacy to pay for a drug that a doctor later injected into Diarra's wrist when her fever wasn't breaking, and I was left in the waiting room reception area of sorts watching Soukeyna (who at age 6 had no idea how to handle her sick baby sister and why it meant that she wasn't getting any attention herself) and holding Diarra in my lap. Diarra would cry, then become very still and press herself into my chest, and then have full body twitches. She was burning up, I could feel the fever in her skin all over. Eventually Aby came back, and then Aby's mom came to the hospital, then her sisters, then Bashir (Bashir had been out of town in Saint-Louis but got back to Dakar only to find out that we were all at the hospital -- I have no idea why he was out of town in the first place, or why Aby didn't call him to tell him that they were having an emergency hours before,) so by the end I wasn't responsible for anything really except to sit there and be supportive and present. But it was so scary. The doctor claimed it was totally unrelated to the coma, which doens't make any sense to me. Since then she's apparently been doing better, though she's going back to the hospital tomorrow so they can run more tests. It sounds like a brain inflammation disease to me, but it's hard to share that theory when I'm communicating in French... It made my last night in Dakar incredibly emotional and difficult, the end to an incredibly emotional and difficult week, but also reaffirmed for me that this experience has become a complete cultural immersion for me. I think what will be the hardest as I leave will be the idea of so much distance in these shockingly close relationships I have formed.

Anyway, it's late here and I'm getting eaten alive by mosquitos as I sit outside to use the wifi. Luckily I'm taking anti-malarial medications or I'd be pretty nervous, and it's not even the mosquito season! The drugs are making me have pretty crazy dreams, though. Last night for example (Sunday nights are the most vivid because I take the pill every Sunday) I dreamed that President Obama died (how scary!!) because of lung cancer. I was so confused ("I didn't even know he had lung cancer!" I remember saying to a study abroad friend) and then I was watching the news for hours... Weird.

In any event, will try to update again soon, especially about Diarra's health. So far so good, kaar kaar (keeping away the evil spirits from changing what I just said.) Besides that, I'm just slowly coming to terms with the idea that it's the middle of May, that I'm leaving here on Saturday. It's surreal, that's really the only way to describe this feeling... Ba beneen yoon, inchalla.

Back in Dakar, for Better or for Worse

It's so incredibly bizarre to be back. (I got back Thursday night.)

I haven't written in two weeks because the internet connection to Bayakh went down two weekends ago. Something about the company resetting connections, I'm not entirely sure. While it was more than a little frustrating at times to be out of communicado with the world, my projects adviser in Dakar, everyone, I think now that it was an incredible blessing that I couldn't retreat to the comforts of my inbox during my last week in Bayakh. I had really adjusted to, and started to truly like, my life there. Over the last 12 days especially I became pretty good friends with a number of the 27 year-old high school teachers living in/hanging out around my house/building, which was a little like a one-floor dormitory, and it was so refreshing to have close, Senegalese friends -- that was perhaps the one part of my study abroad experience I had felt was particularly lacking. I became accustomed to everyone in the entire town knowing by name, in fact I found it a little comforting and fun. I liked my routine of lighting the gas burner every morning to heat water for a shower, eating over-cooked fried eggs with excessive amounts of onion salt, and seeing new villages every day. I liked the one, tiny neighborhood bar where I could buy a beer for a dollar and joke around with the locals. I enjoyed being led by my housemates down dirty back paths to sit on the beds of friends of friends and watch Wolof television, even when I felt unclear of who would shake my hand and greet me and who wouldn't feel comfortable touching me at all because I'm a woman. I liked going into Thies with my ex-Wolof teacher (now good friend) Matou last weekend to meet his family and explore the city. I liked sharing my thoughts on Senegalese culture on my own, with Senegalese people, and participating in the kind of cultural exchange that is fundamentally the point of moving abroad. When it came time to leave, I was really sad. And now, back in Dakar, I'm feeling like I ended an adventure and now am trying to go back to an old, less exciting (and now less comfortable, though not in a material sense) lifestyle. It's been great to see my friends, but I'm finding that I didn't really miss Dakar. Or maybe I did, but I don't have the time or energy to re-adjust and throw myself back into the city. I'm tired, especially since the last week I spent my nights talking to these teacher friends of mine rather than sleeping much, and my head is still completely in the project. I had thought that I would retreat onto the beach, or be stoked to shop more and be a tourist after an exhausting village stay, but I'm finding instead that the concept of consumerism grosses me out. I barely bought anything for almost three weeks, and the little I did buy was all food, drink, phone credit and tissues. It's weird knowing that there are still trinkets, souvenirs, gifts, various things left that I wanted to buy, but I have no enthusiasm now whatsoever to shop. I feel like I'm coming down from the most incredible adventure, on almost every level, and now I'm ready to retreat to a beach resort in Mbour and hear about what everyone else did for the past three weeks. I don't need or really want this extra week here, where I'm officially still in ISP Period but it feels so awkward and separate from my ISP experience. Of course I still have to write the paper and prepare my presentation, but I'm so far ahead of everybody else that I'm just not worried. (That's what happens when you go to a semi-isolated town... When your friends are at work teaching, you sit around all day and write your paper -- there's nothing else to do!)

Speaking of writing the paper though, I'm going to buckle down and do some work right now. Plan to update again on Wednesday, maybe with more details and descriptions from Bayakh, maybe with more of a synthesis of my project. Right now I'm still swimming in the cultural disjointedness I'm feeling, still being in Senegal but feeling like I needed to mentally close some doors almost in order to move on, and now I'm in something a little less exciting and challenging. As a highlight of what's to come though, I want to share that of all the people I spoke to about the work of USAID, in seven different villages, not one had negative things to say.

Crazy to believe that I'm leaving this country in less than two weeks. On the one hand I feel completely not ready. On the other hand, I don't know how any experience could be more challenging, more exciting, more stimulating then what I've just finished and what I'm now synthesizing, and maybe it's good to go out on such a huge bang... Anyway. On verra. (We'll see.)