Take that, Mayans!

Well. It’s officially January 2013 and we’re all still here! The world didn’t end after all. The funny thing is how little attention I paid to that nonsense until Senegalese people started asking me about it. I should have realized they are a suspicious bunch in general but the fact that even people in my small village had heard about this had me slightly on edge that fateful day. But, alas, here we all are.

After the apocalyptic scare (silly Mayans) I was able to kick back and enjoy the holidays. Christmas Eve and Day were spent with my good friends from my training group simply enjoying one another. I have always thought Christmas was incredibly commercialized and materialistic and that thought was further confirmed this holiday season. There was no enormous, lavishly decorated Christmas tree surrounded by hundreds of presents that no one really needs. There was no mad dash to the mall and ensuing stampede to find that perfect gift. There was, simply put, love. Christmas Eve was full of laughs, great food and each other’s company. Downtown Dakar (where we spent most of our time) was even decorated with beautiful lights. Christmas Day was spent playing a round of white elephant (I came away with a blow-up santa, score!) and exchanging our secret Santa gifts. We put a $10 limit on purchases and yet each was heartfelt and perfect for the recipient. I personally received a beautiful scarf and candle for my room. The rest of the day was spent in anticipation of my parents and sister visiting!

Time with the Griswolds, I mean the Goellers, commenced a day after Christmas as 3 haggled and jet- lagged Americans made their way through the airport in Dakar. The first challenge was my poor dad being hassled and charged way more for assistance with his luggage than he should have been. This was shortly followed by my mom realizing that she had left an entire suitcase full of goodies for me behind (she felt so awful). This was momentarily devastating but the moment passed quickly when I realized how incredibly excited I was to finally have my family around me again! Those of you who read this blog probably also are friends with me on Facebook so I won’t go into too much painstaking detail about their visit as I documented every moment with about 4819043 photos. The short version is that the time with my family was unbelievable. I was treated to fantastic comforts such as hot showers, nice meals, soft, clean (okay, good smelling, I do wash my stuff believe it or not but it never gets that Tide smell) towels, carpet, refrigerated drinks, wireless internet, air-conditioning, etc... Quick side note, you don’t realize how much you really miss stuff like that until you go so long without it. We met a fantastic German family on our voyages and spent a fair amount of time with them. Something Sara (the woman of the family) said to me really struck me. She mentioned how excited she was to get home and just have a really long, hot shower. This is completely understandable and I realized that I do that exact same thing. Instead of thinking, “Hmm there are people who don’t even have hot water, perhaps I should really limit my consumption;” we end up thinking, “Oh boy this is nice, how I’ve missed it, and I’m never getting out!” This issue of over-indulgence after experiencing impoverished situations is something I’ve discussed several times with fellow volunteers and we’re still not sure what can be done about it.

Okay, side note over. These things were great but even better than all of that luxury was the resiliency and ability of my family to throw themselves into such new, uncomfortable situations and also just having them here. The feeling of being around all of them again is indescribable. I’m sure anyone who has gone a significant amount of time being away from their family can understand what I’m talking about. There’s a feeling you get that is purely unique to family. It’s that feeling of warmth, comfort, familiarity, and being where you belong, home. As great as it was having them here, it really just hit me again how much I truly missed them. Highlights of the visit definitely included my dad’s bizarre humor. Literally every person that we met loved him and couldn't get enough of him, even though no one really understood each other completely. My cute sister playing with my host family and trying her best to learn greetings so that she could communicate with people in my village. I think my mom was completely shocked at first just actually physically seeing where and how I live (which is more than understandable) but ultimately she was such a trooper and her and my father were more than generous with my family, other volunteers, and friends in my village.

New Year’s Eve was rather strange but ultimately the best New Year’s that I've ever had. We were served an amazing dinner of barracuda (yup, you read that right, it was surprisingly good, just had to look out for the teeth) lobster, and other treats. After dinner there was plenty of authentic Senegalese entertainment such as women singing, wrestling, witch doctors and a dance circle to boot! The evening wrapped up with midnight rolling around and everyone kissing our cheeks and wishing us Bonne Annee and Bonne Sante (Happy Year and Good Health). Their trip finished up with some gorgeous beach days and a tearful departure the night of January 3^rd. Shout-out to my parents (and Jack) for a big THANK YOU again for everything.

Now that my family has come and gone it’s hard to say exactly how I’m feeling about my decision to be here. In the past few days since they have left I’ve been thinking a lot about the complexity of human emotions. Sitting in front of my house watching the chickens (yeah, I get bored a lot here), I began to experience a strange emotion… I was sort of jealous of them. Here I am, sitting around constantly analyzing every little thing, critiquing myself and my decisions, and basically putting loads of pressure on myself wondering what I’m truly doing here in Senegal; and then there are the chickens, perfectly content if they just have something to eat and a place to crap. Perhaps I should learn something from them.

Among my standard worries regarding life decisions I was experiencing another round of Peace Corps guilt. This is a phenomenon any volunteer is familiar with and it’s time I explained it a little bit.  You see, most of us are constantly worrying about things such as:

• Am I spending enough time in site?
• Those of us that live in a house with family are always wondering am I present enough in my family? What do they really think of me? Is there more I can be doing to help them?
• Am I studying the language enough? (Probably not…)
• Then there are those lovely feelings of self-doubt, are my project ideas good enough? Why don’t I have more project ideas? Shouldn't people constantly be approaching me with ideas? Why is no one approaching me? Am I not approachable? Why am I here?

This Peace Corps guilt is so powerful it even often extends to the families of volunteers. They are so worried that their child is in such a strange situation that they feel almost crippled by it. There is an immense amount of energy, money and time spent in trying to make the volunteer feel comforted and comfortable when ultimately all any parent truly wants to say is, “Come home.”

I guess lately I’m just wrestling with the part of myself that wants to go home. Yup, that part of me is alive and kicking. I know that ultimately I would get back to Utah and be happy with family, friends, comforts, good food, etc. for about a month. Then I think I would most likely freak out, wonder why I had left my dream and fret about what in the hell I was going to do next. For long as I can remember I wanted to join the Peace Corps and make a difference. This is why I can’t throw in the towel; at least, not quite yet. In my heart, I know that I can try harder. But at the same time I need to cut myself some slack. I have been told by many people that simply being here and showing that Americans care are fulfilling the first two goals of Peace Corps. Now I just need to dig deeper into my community and find out where I can truly help them. In the meantime, I’m going to focus on quieting my mind and finding contentment here. Just like the chickens seem to do so well.

Until next time,

xx

What's a sept-place?

I know what you’re thinking…another post already?! Must be Christmas early or something! I guess I feel like I have some making up to do for being such a slacker the entire month of October. In a previous post I promised to talk about the joys of public transportation in this country so I figured there is no time like the present! Now, I’m not very savvy on how transportation works in other developing countries so perhaps it is like this everywhere, or even worse; this is simply the experience that I have had so far.

In order to get anywhere in Senegal the first place you need to go is the local garage. This is fine unless you’re in a town or village that doesn’t have a garage. If this is the case then you need to basically hitchhike, walk, ride in an animal drawn buggy or take whatever form of transportation that is available to the nearest garage. It’s when you get the garage that the real fun starts. First of all, you will be hit with a plethora of different, interesting aromas. These can range anywhere from sweat, feces (human and animal), to different foods and decaying trash all mixing together. These smells are pretty typical throughout Senegal but they seem to be compounded at the garage. Along with the odors you are also going to experience people shouting at you in several different languages trying to figure out where you’re headed. Some of these people may be helpful but they are mostly trying to rip you off.

Travel tip number 1: When at the garage, handle your own bags. The minute you give them over to someone else to help you, they have become your bellhop and you are expected to pay them. This may seem obvious but sometimes they may have literally put your bag in the backseat of the car so just keep track of your own things.

After you finally locate the area of the garage where you can find your destination you have to decide which form of transportation you are going to take. There’s the more expensive, posh option that is designated as the sept-place. This is basically an old station wagon that has an extra set of seats in the trunk space in order to fit seven, or sept, passengers comfortably inside. I use the term comfortably loosely as the majority of the time you are nestled in there between two other people and I’ve even heard stories of livestock being crammed in as well; but, as far as the transportation choices go, sept-places are the cream of the crop. There are also alhums (medium-sized buses), mini-buses and the popular, but deadly, night buses. Once you determine your vessel there will be a man shouting at you, “Pass, pass!” This is not your driver or even the man who will start the car, this is simply who you will pay for your fare. Usually they will try to charge you for whatever baggage you have as well. Unless you carry your items on your lap, you’ll probably end up paying extra for it.

Travel tip number 2: Travel LIGHT. I’m talking wear the same thing 4 days in a row light to avoid having to deal with extra fees for baggage. As Peace Corps volunteers we typically don’t change up our wardrobe too much anyway so this tip is more for you people who still care about your general appearance. This tip always goes for traveling light regarding your money as well. Try to have as small of bills as possible so that getting change is not an issue as it is always an issue in this country.

Alright so now you’ve paid and you’re probably being herded into the car. In some garages you’re issued a seat number so there is no negotiating where you will be but in other garages it is first come, first served and the fight for a good seat can get pretty brutal.

Travel tip number 3: In a sept-place, always try for the front seat first. Good luck, I have yet to sit there and I’ve been here for 6 months. Most likely the front seat will be impossible so then you should attempt to sit in the middle row near a window. The back row is your last resort but if there are no other options, at least try for one of the sides so that you have something besides a person or a goat to lean against. If you're lucky enough to be traveling with fellow volunteers, at least you'll have each other to lean/sweat on (see pics below).

Once you’re seated you will probably check out the car and hopefully it has a floor, doors that properly shut and windows that roll down. If you’re looking for a seat-belt then you have forgotten where you are! Bring yourself back to Senegal and rest assured that you’re packed in so tightly that you’ll probably be fine in the event of a problem. When all of the passengers have arrived, and this part of the process can take hours as the car will not leave until each place is filled, someone will come and start the car. And by start the car I mean he will steer while a bunch of other guys push it in order to push-start the vehicle. You might think that you’d be on your way but this is when your driver finally arrives. You will be lucky if he looks a day over 14. He usually will drive you over to the gas station, a step that would probably make more sense before getting passengers, and then you’re off!

Did I mention that during this entire process you are probably dripping sweat, have people shouting in your face, coughing on you, shoving you and also trying to sell you all sorts of crap? Some of what they’re selling makes sense like water, snacks, and tissues but then there’s that guy selling a live bird or a pamphlet on karate. I just want to know, who is actually buying this stuff? You also have a more difficult situation of beggars, as young as 5 year-old children trying to solicit money and food from you.

Such are the joys of traveling in a developing country. One way I know that I’m becoming more integrated is how much less bothered I am by traveling here. When I first saw the garage, I remember thinking that I will never leave my village. Now, it’s just a matter of knowing a few words in the local lingo to get where I want to go and to not pay more than I should to make the trip.

On top of integrating in the transportation realm I am feeling much better in my village as well. I’m not going to sugarcoat it here; my first few months at site were incredibly tough. Not to bum you guys out or anything but there were a few mornings that I woke up and just had to cry a little. I mean I usually would pull myself together, snap out of it and get on with my day but life in the Peace Corps is no joke. They really weren’t kidding when they said it is the toughest job you will ever love. I’m sure I’ve talked plenty about why it is so tough so I won’t bore you with that again. Of course, the language becoming a little easier and people becoming more familiar with me has helped but I’ve also developed some strategies that get me through those rough days.

I have this new game I play where I make up what people are saying to each other. You see, 90% of my interactions are in a group of people that I don’t understand what is going on; therefore, if I just make up conversations they could be having, everyone wins! I am entertained and they just think I’m even crazier than they already did when I bust up laughing at my imaginary conversations. Along the lines of people thinking I’m strange, I’ve been known to sing greetings at people. Greetings are very important in West African culture so you have to know what to say to people and, in Serer culture, the proper time of day to say these things. I have found that even if I don’t know exactly what I’m saying, if I say it in a high sing-songy, happy way they either think it’s cute or that I’m just a little strange and those are better than thinking I’m an idiot for saying good morning when it’s 6 PM. This is getting better as I learn more but it was for sure a coping strategy in those early days.

This has been ridiculously long so I’ll wrap it up with one final point. This might seem obvious but I have learned that I can’t expect every, or even most, interactions to be a positive experience. Some days I will go from having the best conversation with someone to another person literally bringing me to the verge of tears. Some of the best advice I have learned to heed is to be patient, observe, listen, smile, shake it off and most importantly, laugh. Peace Corps is certainly no joke but there’s no way I’d make it through if I couldn’t laugh it off.

Until next time,

xx

Giving Thanks

Well IST is officially over which means another Peace Corps milestone has been passed, yay! The week was filled with (mostly) useful sessions, good times with friends and TONS (literally, tons) of yummy food. I think I've neglected thus far to talk about the food that is served at the training center, or I guess the food in general here in Senegal. You see, Senegalese food is really quite delicious but the food we get at site compared to the food at the training center is very different. Senegalese food typically consists of rice, fish and some type of sauce. The less well-off families, including my own, usually have the lowest grade quality of fish for lunch and often eat left-overs or couscous for dinner. This is fine with me, I want to be integrated into my family and eat what they are eating. However, this causes problems when we get to eat 10 days straight of the tantalizing training center food. The training center always splurges for the best meat including not only fish but also chicken AND beef. We get salad and pizza or pasta for dinner and there’s fruit after every meal. This food may sound fairly basic but compared to what’s available to my isolated little village, this stuff is amazing and I gorge pretty hard.

After IST, myself and the 10 pounds I had to have gained headed to the big city (Dakar, capital of Senegal) to enjoy some rest and relaxation and also to celebrate Thanksgiving with the US Ambassador (no big deal or anything). We were invited to the ambassador’s house for a feast that I will never forget. More food talk, what’s my problem? Part of the deal was that we had to each bring a side dish or dessert and the Ambassador would provide turkey, stuffing, beer and wine. I know that I have mentioned my lack of culinary creativity in here before so I was more than proud of the au gratin potatoes and garlic green beans that my friends and I managed to throw together. We may have had to use the Ambassador’s oven to finish our potatoes and they were the last thing to get put on the table but all turned out well and our efforts were praised. Thanksgiving was full of laughs, good food, good wine and even a sing-a-long around the piano at the end of the evening. It was lovely, as picturesque as a scene out of a romantic comedy or something and will probably go down as one of the best Thanksgivings I've ever had.

Though, as the festivities were dying down and I was slowly slipping into a food-induced coma, I couldn't help thinking about my family back home. This is the first holiday season I've ever had in my life away from all of them; usually at least some of us are able to be together. If this experience has taught me anything it is that I am very devoted to my family. I miss them more than words could ever explain and I truly cherish the time that I get to spend with them. Speaking of my family, I would like to share a sad event that was recently brought to my attention, call it a way of healing I guess. I heard about it only last week but it apparently happened over a month ago. It happened when I was having a rough patch at site and my parents didn't want to add to my anxiety. My sweet little Pomeranian pup passed away. Now, some of you that knew her may not use sweet as your top choice of description but she was always there for me. I cried into that dog’s fur more times than I care to admit and there was never any creature (human or otherwise) happier to see me than her. I can’t explain the pain I’m feeling right now because I almost feel numb. It doesn't seem real because I wasn't there having to deal with anything. I thank whatever higher power is up there that I was able to be removed from the situation because I wouldn't have been able to handle it. That dog meant too much to me and to have to be surrounded by her toys or, even worse, haunted by seeing her pass would've been far too difficult. The one thing I wish I could have been there for was to help my mom through it. Roxy – you will be forever missed and thought of daily. Thank you for being such an incredible dog and best friend to me. I love you always.

Now that the sad news is over I would like to use the rest of this lengthy (sorry!) post to express the things I am thankful for in my life because… tis the season after all!

• I am thankful for my parents. I am thankful for their health, their generosity, their support, their success, and their love. I have never in my life felt anything but unconditional love from them and for that I am incredibly grateful.
• I am thankful for my little sister and the close friendship that we have.
• I am thankful for my older siblings and the amazing relationships that I have not only with them but their families.
• I am thankful for the friendships I've developed with other family members and some of the amazing friendships and relationships I've had over the years.
• I’m thankful for the time I had with my amazing little dog and all the joy she brought into my life.
• I’m thankful for my health.
• I’m thankful for the many opportunities I've had over my life to not only travel to beautiful places but to also live and work abroad in a completely unique and challenging situation.
• I’m thankful for my education and the opportunities it has given and will continue to give me.
• I’m thankful to be an American. Now, more than ever before, I can truly appreciate the freedom and rights that we have there.
• I’m thankful for the good in the world. For the people I see helping each other out.
• I’m thankful for the beauty of nature. A sunset. The waves crashing on the shore. Baobab trees. I am experiencing nature at a much slower and more intimate pace over here and it feels great.
• I’m thankful for laughter and the fact that I have a sense of humor. Life would be much more difficult if I wasn't able to laugh things off.
• I’m thankful that I have the ability to get up and walk somewhere, each and every day. 

I could go on and on and on but I feel that about sums up most of the big stuff. I guess I’ll end this post by saying I’m thankful for you. Whoever you are that is reading this and getting something out of it.

Until next time,

xx

At least once

First of all I wanted to start this post by apologizing for how long it has been since I have written anything. I am a slacker. I usually try to wait to write posts until I feel like I have something incredibly witty or fascinating to say. Sometimes I forget that just the day to day things that I am doing are probably interesting to at least someone, right? 

I thought I’d begin this entry by talking about what I have been doing during this hiatus since I last posted anything. This past week has been the beginning of our IST (in-service training, I don’t have to reiterate Peace Corps’ love of acronyms). This means that I have been out of my site and participating in various sessions that are supposed to help easier facilitate projects in my village. This also means that I have officially been sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer for 3 months now! For those of you that don’t know, I am living in Ngallou which is a small village located in the community of Palmarin, Senegal. My village is situated right between the coast and the Sine-Saloum Delta. 

The program that I am a volunteer under is Community Economic Development and my focus is on the eco-tourism industry. This is largely because I live in a beautiful place that has a lot of potential for touristic activities (come visit me!!) but it’s also my job to make sure that this tourism is sustainable, environmentally friendly and benefits the local population (those are the main components of eco-tourism in case you didn’t know). See said beautiful place below.

The past few weeks have consisted of me making my way around my village trying to assess how I can help. I have already decided to implement an English class for interested eco-guides to better communicate with their clientele. I am also working with a local hotel in basic business principles such as marketing, accounting, customer service, etc. Along with the eco-tourism jazz I am also working on several secondary projects that include a school garden, compost/waste management projects, coastal erosion evasion work, a carbon offsets program and also collaboration with the local artists on expanding their product lines. Each day involves a new set of challenges and slowly but surely I am finding my place where I can be of use here in Senegal.

Well. Now that you’re caught up on most of the lengthy work-related information I have some of my more typical words of wisdom (ranting) that I would like to share. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about the development of a society, namely of the United States. Because of our incredible wastefulness during our industrialization period, other countries are suffering the consequences out of the mess that we’ve made. We were able to progress and develop in a way that most other countries cannot copy due to the environmental detriment that we created along the way. I think that now, more than ever, we owe it to not only ourselves but to the rest of the world to try and live a more simplistic lifestyle.

I personally think everyone should have to do a few things in order to understand how many people in this world live. At least once in their lives, I believe everyone should have to take a bucket bath. I think we should have to experience washing our clothes by hand. Furthermore, we should have to walk down the street or possibly to the next town over to wait in line and then pull water from a well in order to take care of ourselves and our families. As a society we are so incredibly wasteful with our resources. We leave the water running while we shave, take incredibly long showers and use a washing machine to clean 3 or 4 articles of clothing. I feel like I had other examples that were related to issues besides water consumption but I will have to save those for another day (as I can’t remember them and I REALLY want to get a post out today).

Wrapping things up I’d like to say that my posts are never trying to get political or drastically change anyone’s views in life but if I can caution you to simply think twice about things then I would say it’s worth it.

I will try and make my next post sooner rather than later but in the meantime thank you for reading and trying to be the best person you can be!

xx

Always talk to strangers

It’s been a while since my last post and not a lot has really changed. I’m still doing my best each day to integrate into my village. This means fumbling through the language and just trying to find my place here in Senegal. Along the way I’m learning more and more, not only about the Senegalese way of life but also about myself. Some of the things I am learning go against those fundamental rules that we are taught growing up. For example, the title of this particular post goes against one of the first things we are told as children which is to never talk to strangers. Here, not talking to strangers is definitely a major faux pas. It’s considered impolite if you are walking down the street and you don’t greet each person that you pass by. This rule stands whether you know the person or not. You might think this would apply only in your village or town that you live but it’s also when you travel. When traveling it’s important to make friends with the other passengers in case you need them to have your back for one reason or another. I could and probably will one day devote an entire blog just to transportation in this country so that’s all I’ll say on that for now. Along the lines of behavior towards strangers; we were also taught to never take candy from a stranger. When eating here in Senegal it’s thought of as rude to not offer some to those around you. This can even include those complete strangers you happen to be traveling with. Although, if you followed rule one, they won’t be strangers anymore!

Another piece of advice (and common sense) given to us as children is to always look both ways before crossing the street. This is good but here it’s also important that you look behind you, in front and sometimes even above. You never know where the next stray animal or horse-drawn buggy is going to come from. Aside from those basic do’s and don’ts we are also usually told how to behave when eating or drinking. You know, things such as always chew with your mouth closed, don’t slurp when drinking, and don’t eat with your hands. Those forms of food etiquette are definitely not important here. In fact, here slurping your tea is the way it’s done so, slurp away!  Basically, if there’s not at least one person sitting next to you at the communal bowl (yeah, you all eat around the same bowl, sometimes up to 10 people) eating with their hands and spitting fish bones on the ground next to you; then you just aren’t in Senegal!

Those first rules are mostly fun parts of this culture that I have adapted more or less easily to. Then there are the things that are harder to tackle. I’ll tell you one thing; it’s not easy living in Senegal. It’s even less easy to be a young, foreign female living in Senegal. I’ve been having a hard time lately figuring out my place here in Senegal. I am here to work, this is true. But, the work women are typically expected to do here is very different from what I am trying to accomplish. Women in Senegal work very, very hard. They spend hours cleaning, preparing meals, taking care of the children, and taking care of the men. I’m not saying women in the states don’t do this as well but there’s something different about it here. They have no other choice. If a woman here was ever to ask a man to maybe help with the dishes after she just spent 3 hours preparing the midday meal bent over a hot coal fire; that wouldn’t go over well. I’m also not saying that the men don’t work hard. They work very hard. It just seems so much less balanced here. Men here legitimately don’t believe me when I tell them that men in America often help prepare meals, clean and spend time taking care of the kids. I try to explain that men and women are seen more as equals in America and help each other out. This is just not a concept they are comfortable with although that is slowly changing. With a new generation of Senegalese women chasing after jobs that were traditionally male dominated and going to college, things are becoming more equal. In the meantime though here I am; trying to find a balance between being taken seriously as an educated woman who knows what she’s talking about (hopefully) and also just simply being a woman in Senegal. I think I’ll get there, after all part of my job is to assimilate into this culture as well as share my own.

Until next time then,

xx 

I really do want world peace...

Last night as I was tucked nicely into my mosquito net, drifting off to sleep, I thought of some of the criticism that I have heard about the Peace Corps. This includes from people I know and also just criticism in general. “Why don’t you help people of your own country” is probably one of the top questions I heard after, “Wow, so you’re going to be living in a mud hut and stuff, right?” On the latter point, I actually live in a cement room in a house so I have it slightly nicer than the hut volunteers but I assure you, they do exist. As far as the first question, it’s definitely a valid point. I know that there are plenty of people in America that are impoverished and need help. I have volunteered at various organizations and plan on continuing that trend when I get back to the States. For the most part though, Americans tend to like other Americans. This is not always the case with people from other countries.

The media alone reflects very poorly on Americans. People from other countries unfortunately catch a lot of our trash TV (aka reality TV) and assume that all Americans have…we’ll just say “loose morals.” An issue on top of the trash TV is that the media tends to highlight fanatical maniacs. One of these people highlighted was a pastor (who shall remain nameless, he has received enough publicity) who was organizing International Burn a Qur’an Day. The Qur’an is the holy book of Islam so this was an incredibly offensive movement. I don’t care if you’re religious or not, that’s just something you don’t do. It has shocked me to my core how many Senegalese people (who are 90% Muslim) thought that this man was an accurate representation of Americans. I had to explain that there were far more Americans that were outraged at this man than who supported him but that’s not what the media likes to portray. To avoid this post becoming too political or heavy I’ll end the rant by simply saying; some of us Americans have to do something to change our worldview. After all, the second goal of Peace Corps is to promote better understanding of the American people on the part of the people served. In a world that is becoming increasingly more global, this notion of world peace becomes even more essential. It doesn’t hurt that I am hopefully teaching the people I’m working with sustainable skills to help pull them out of poverty.

Phew, on to other news! You may be wondering what it is I’m doing over here to make us Americans look good. I have now officially been a volunteer for about a month now. As far as what I’m doing to shed a positive light on Americans, I hope that I’m doing at least something. Each day is spent with me trying my hardest to learn a language I’ve never heard. I’m eating, traveling, dressing, bathing and simply living how the Senegalese are. I am also sneaking in mini-America lessons wherever I can. I show videos and pictures of my family and friends back home in order to make Americans more relatable. I show maps of the US and talk about different states and how many times Senegal could fit inside America. I have conversations with Senegalese people about strong American women and the impressive roles women can achieve. I get reactions constantly about how peculiar I am that I don’t really enjoy household duties and that I desire education and a career. They might think I’m strange but at least it has them thinking. Amidst all of this, there are days where I experience what I like to call the high highs and the low lows.

Some of the high highs are when I finally nail every greeting a particular villager happens to throw at me. They are when I spend the long afternoons learning how to prepare Senegalese meals (which is especially entertaining as I mentioned previously, I’m no chef). I enjoy the time at the beach I have with my family. One day a local artisan profusely thanked me for coming to Senegal to help his people. I love the days I am able to fit a run in (this makes it sound like I’m so busy; by fit in I mainly mean work around the rain and /or my own laziness). It’s nice to have conversations with people about the work I may be doing here. Then there are the afternoons when my adorable 3-year old host sister is teaching me Serer (my local language).

But there are also some low lows. Some days I nail the greetings but most of the time I feel unable to properly communicate what I want to say. There are creepy, crawly creatures everywhere. Certain days I feel unbearably lonely and isolated. Other times people often assume I’m a tourist and simply hound me to buy things or make me feel like an ATM. Through it all though, I am ultimately happy. As a lover of culture, I feel incredibly privileged to be completely immersed in such a colorful one. Yes, the low lows aren’t great but the high highs make it all worthwhile.

I know I’ve jumped around a lot but I hope it somewhat made sense where I’m coming from here.

Until next time,

xx

It's probably not going to kill me but..

To start this entry off I thought I’d talk about some of the weird stuff that I do and that happens to me. Most of it probably won’t kill me but probably isn’t great either. I also know that most of this stuff may happen in the States but here it’s on an almost daily basis.

These wonderful things include:

• Inhaling (yes, directly up my nose) all sorts of insects.
• Accidentally consuming more fish bones than I could count.
• Trudging unknowingly through what may or may not be sewage wearing flip-flops.
•  Bathing in water that is tinted brown or has dead things floating in it.
• Eating food dripping with oil (quite delicious, might I add).
• Squatting precariously over questionable holes doing mother nature’s business.
• Getting all sorts of interesting insect bites (good thing I’m vaccinated for everything under the sun!)
• Going for hours without saying or understanding a word of what’s going on (can’t be great for my mental health, right?)

That’s a pretty good start. I’m sure as the days go on I’ll have plenty to add to this list but that should give you a good idea for now.

Lately I’ve been feeling a little down. I’m finally at site, no longer a trainee. This means I’m feeling isolated and scared. Also I feel quite bored. I am not supposed to start working yet as I’ve previously mentioned so I have A LOT of down time. I’m trying my best to learn the language and be present in my village but sometimes I just need to escape to my room and read or watch movies. One of these times that I was feeling overwhelmed (this morning), I re-read some of my entries in my diary from years ago. I’m pretty good at keeping a diary and have entries dating back to when I was about 7 years old. Those ones are quite boring as my life really wasn’t that exciting then. They consist largely of, “Today I went outside and played, it was fun!” Seriously though, encourage kids to keep diaries, they are eye opening years later.

Over the past few years, however, I talked a lot about my hopes and dreams and what I hope to get out of life. I would like to share some of those hopes and dreams as I’m proud to say a lot have come true. I feel like it’s necessary right now to share some of these because my day to day lately has been less than ideal and writing about that would just bore everyone to tears! Hopefully you enjoy reading a little more about who I am and what I hope to achieve in this life (at least some of what I hope to achieve).

• I hope to get into the Peace Corps (yup this was a goal for quite some time people)
• I hope to fall in love (yes…that happened J)
• I hope to make my parents proud
• I hope to set a good example for others
• I hope to make others happy
• I hope to own my own car/home
• I hope to see Germany with my dad (he’s German…I want to see my roots)
• I hope to have children
• I hope to help others, to make a difference
• I hope to see the world
• I hope to speak more languages
• I hope to get married (at Bear Lake, one of my favorite places in the world)
• I hope to have my dad walk me down the aisle
• I hope that I always continue to learn and to better myself
• I hope to let the little things slide
• I hope to ride an elephant
• I hope to climb one of the world’s tallest mountains (did it, Kilimanjaro, woo!)
• I hope to work for Disney (what Disney freak hasn't hoped for that at least once?)
• I hope to work for myself
• I hope to be happy

All in all, I have been incredibly fortunate thus far in my life to achieve many of my hopes. Each day I just need to keep pushing through the hard stuff to get to my ultimate goals. To do that here in Senegal I've realized setting small (I mean, minuscule) goals for myself will get me through the days. Today my plan is to visit the post office and greet some villagers. Maybe I’ll even stop by my office, don’t want to overwhelm myself though. There’s always tomorrow and the next day and the next day….

Until the next day then,

xx