On the morning of the seventh we landed in Dakar at around 7am 7.5 flying hours from DC. Exhausted hungry and nervous we came along with Senegal to-be volunteers, disoriented but excited. I brought WAY too much. We arrived in Thies, about 2 hrs outside of the city, by mid morning and were greeted warmly with dancing and drumming. Welcome to Peace Corps. Welcome to the next 26 months of your life in West Africa...
Reflecting back on that day and time period to now is night and day. I came in nervous jumpy and down right pretty terrified of most things like spiders, mosquitoes, mice, and rats. And also terrified of not being able to accomplish anything ever, not learning the language, not being able to do this, not being liked accepted or embraced by my community, etc.
I remember during three month challenge that I had the delusion I could somehow create an insect free zone in my hut with consistency and sheer will power of the mind. That delusion burst maybe 2.5 months in at site.
Now the spiders are allies. The ants are too as the eat the termites or any scrap of any kind insect and food alike. Collectively I've personally killed 10-12 mice/rats with some minor assistance from my kitten. And though malaria is still an unwelcome prospect, it's somehow less daunting and more one of those things that might happen and that hopefully you can get to the coartem in time for if it does. And I've done things. A few health murals, some Neem cream demos as mosquito repellent, some tippy tap constructions and hand washing demos, a school garden in the neighboring town that seems to be thriving, HIV/AIDS sensitizations in my community and region, bee keeping, and small tutoring. And yup, also, as I've said before, English skills have been heavily compromised. You'll just have to bare with me.
In those first couple months of training I'm not sure I could have pictured myself ever living so comfortably in a West African village in the middle of the bush adorned with mud huts and thatched roofs, constant pounding of millet rice or ground nut, roosters, donkeys, goats, and dirty yet adorable children. Poop, burning trash or even just trash, eroded roads, off the grid, off the road, hauling water, eating merely nothing but rice and various sauces with dried fish. But here I am. I've survived and moreover I'm beyond happy to be here still and excited for what this next year can bring now that I've learned a little bit of here in this last one.
I remember quite well the first time I saw what was at the time my future home. Bags in hand I walked into my hut and took one good look at one of the blank dusty crumbly walls. My eyes took in the dust on the floor, the dusty webs near where the roof met the crumbly mud wall, the cracks from the crumbling plastered wall, the off color white paint that tried to hide from the eye that it was really a mud hut, and just the extreme foreignness that at the time was exuded in every fiber of my hut, tree, tool, person, and place. For a solid five seconds I had to convince myself not to run away right then and there, not to break down and cry, but to breathe and muster up that strength from somewhere in the depths from someplace. Right then and there I made a commitment, an agreement with myself, that I can and will, do this. And then cried later maybe after 3 months in. No biggie.
It's been a bumpy road in this first year but par for the course as you will. What's interesting and neat about this experience is that we're all having incredibly different ones but emotionally I feel we go through the same high's and low's, frustrations, and elations. One thing that's helped me tremendously as of recently was changing my anti-malarial prophylaxis from Mephlaquine to Doxycycline. I've been about 100x happier since doing it! But also I think that has to do with where I am on this charted road.
A year in comes with confidence, decent but definitely not perfect language skills, a clearer direction, a clearer sense of self and purpose, limitations, realities, etc. It's a nice place to be. Even nicer is to be able to think of the remaining fourteen-fifteen months as "omg fifteen more months! I better get to work now now as this time is going to f-ing fly!" vs. "omg fiiiiffteeeeenn moooorrreeee moooontttthhhssss, ugh!" Fifteen more to try to continue to work with the people in my village. Fifteen more to continue to build and establish relationships. Fifteen more to continue to learn this place and share my own culture. Fifteen more to give me another rainy season, another cold season, and another mango season. Fifteen more to give me the chance to master wolof as much as possible. Fifteen more. Or fourteen. I'm not good at the counting down thing. I just know it's a year and some change left and that in it I'll continue to grow and change and hopefully continue to fall for this place so that when I leave it will be the worst and hardest thing I'll have ever done. Going for the ultimate heartbreak. Let's do it!
Reflecting back on that day and time period to now is night and day. I came in nervous jumpy and down right pretty terrified of most things like spiders, mosquitoes, mice, and rats. And also terrified of not being able to accomplish anything ever, not learning the language, not being able to do this, not being liked accepted or embraced by my community, etc.
I remember during three month challenge that I had the delusion I could somehow create an insect free zone in my hut with consistency and sheer will power of the mind. That delusion burst maybe 2.5 months in at site.
Now the spiders are allies. The ants are too as the eat the termites or any scrap of any kind insect and food alike. Collectively I've personally killed 10-12 mice/rats with some minor assistance from my kitten. And though malaria is still an unwelcome prospect, it's somehow less daunting and more one of those things that might happen and that hopefully you can get to the coartem in time for if it does. And I've done things. A few health murals, some Neem cream demos as mosquito repellent, some tippy tap constructions and hand washing demos, a school garden in the neighboring town that seems to be thriving, HIV/AIDS sensitizations in my community and region, bee keeping, and small tutoring. And yup, also, as I've said before, English skills have been heavily compromised. You'll just have to bare with me.
In those first couple months of training I'm not sure I could have pictured myself ever living so comfortably in a West African village in the middle of the bush adorned with mud huts and thatched roofs, constant pounding of millet rice or ground nut, roosters, donkeys, goats, and dirty yet adorable children. Poop, burning trash or even just trash, eroded roads, off the grid, off the road, hauling water, eating merely nothing but rice and various sauces with dried fish. But here I am. I've survived and moreover I'm beyond happy to be here still and excited for what this next year can bring now that I've learned a little bit of here in this last one.
I remember quite well the first time I saw what was at the time my future home. Bags in hand I walked into my hut and took one good look at one of the blank dusty crumbly walls. My eyes took in the dust on the floor, the dusty webs near where the roof met the crumbly mud wall, the cracks from the crumbling plastered wall, the off color white paint that tried to hide from the eye that it was really a mud hut, and just the extreme foreignness that at the time was exuded in every fiber of my hut, tree, tool, person, and place. For a solid five seconds I had to convince myself not to run away right then and there, not to break down and cry, but to breathe and muster up that strength from somewhere in the depths from someplace. Right then and there I made a commitment, an agreement with myself, that I can and will, do this. And then cried later maybe after 3 months in. No biggie.
It's been a bumpy road in this first year but par for the course as you will. What's interesting and neat about this experience is that we're all having incredibly different ones but emotionally I feel we go through the same high's and low's, frustrations, and elations. One thing that's helped me tremendously as of recently was changing my anti-malarial prophylaxis from Mephlaquine to Doxycycline. I've been about 100x happier since doing it! But also I think that has to do with where I am on this charted road.
A year in comes with confidence, decent but definitely not perfect language skills, a clearer direction, a clearer sense of self and purpose, limitations, realities, etc. It's a nice place to be. Even nicer is to be able to think of the remaining fourteen-fifteen months as "omg fifteen more months! I better get to work now now as this time is going to f-ing fly!" vs. "omg fiiiiffteeeeenn moooorrreeee moooontttthhhssss, ugh!" Fifteen more to try to continue to work with the people in my village. Fifteen more to continue to build and establish relationships. Fifteen more to continue to learn this place and share my own culture. Fifteen more to give me another rainy season, another cold season, and another mango season. Fifteen more to give me the chance to master wolof as much as possible. Fifteen more. Or fourteen. I'm not good at the counting down thing. I just know it's a year and some change left and that in it I'll continue to grow and change and hopefully continue to fall for this place so that when I leave it will be the worst and hardest thing I'll have ever done. Going for the ultimate heartbreak. Let's do it!
