Three Months Later...

First of all, I honestly can hardly believe that it has been about three months since my return. It certainly does not feel like it has been that long.

Countless people have been bugging me recently about how my blog entries simply stopped when I returned to the States. I have had many questions about how my transition back to the U.S. has been and requests that I talk a little bit about that. So, here it goes...

It was a bit difficult for me to transition into being back in the States. At first, it didn't seem very difficult, as I was swamped with things to do for Rotary (presentations, report, etc) which kept me very busy. However, once that all settled down, reality began to sink in. I quickly began to miss my host families, my friends, speaking French, the weather and the sun (and the beach), taxis and public transportation, not to mention my whole way of life in Senegal. Of course it is also wonderful to be back home where I can hang with my family, understand the majority of conversations going on around me, have easy access to all sorts of foods (particularly Mexican), and see old friends again.

A question I've repeatedly been asked since coming home is: Am I bothered by all the wealth and excess in this country since returning from Senegal? And the answer: No more than I was bothered by it before I went on my trip, which is a lot. In Senegal I truly learned that I can live with a lot less than what I have. This realization led to many trips to Second Mile House (a local donation center) to drop off many things that I own but rarely to never use.

When I first got back I was bothered by television and cell phones. I rarely turned the television on and often left my cell phone in my room all day. That has since changed a bit, however I still don't use them quite like I did a year ago.

I dislike having to get in my car to get just about anywhere. I miss walking and taxis. Driving your own car takes away a lot of possibilities to meet and talk with people, and I miss that.

I still feel the need to say "Asaala Maalekum" whenever I walk into a store or a place with lots of people, but I've kept myself from actually saying it out loud. And I miss the custom of greeting every single person in a room when you enter it.

Since there's no one around to speak Wolof with, I use it when interacting with my cat. Yes, I realize this makes me sound strange. But aside from recognizing her name, the cat doesn't know any English words. So whether I tell her to "come here" in English or "kaay fi" in Wolof, whether she reacts to it or not is merely based on my tone of voice and hand motions.

Thanks to the internet, email, and cell phones, I'm able to hear from my friends and family in Senegal on a fairly regular basis. My host brother, Amadou in Kaolack, called and woke me up yesterday morning at 7:15am. It was great to see that he was thinking of me, but a little early for me to be able to make any coherent sentence the second I woke up. I chatted with him earlier today on MSN and found out that at the same time he called a friend of mine in Seattle, and he complained that she didn't pick up the phone either. I explained that 5:15am and 7:15am are not exactly the best times to call us and of course he understood and had forgotten the number of hours between us.

Although there are a million things I miss about Senegal, there are also things that I don't miss. These things include our belching sheep that would wake me up early in the morning and not let me get back to sleep, receiving innumerable marriage proposals, and being hassled when trying to buy something by people who just see me as someone with lots of money. And of course, always having access to electricity, running water, water that you can drink out of the tap, and internet is pretty nice as well. I really did miss coffee shops with wireless internet while I was in Senegal.

So what am I up to now? I spent a number of weeks in Illinois giving speeches to Rotary clubs and to different groups of people at Illinois Wesleyan University. I was even able to address the Rotary District Conference for District #6490. In Grand Rapids, I have also spoken with social studies classes in local high schools. One thing that this entire experience has definitely given me is great public speaking skills. Although I've never really been a stranger to the stage, now I am very comfortable addressing groups of people regardless of the size.

I am currently living in Michigan where I grew up. I am working here for the summer, while fulfilling family and personal commitments up here. I'm also straightening out the details of moving my life to Washington, DC. I was accepted to George Washington University's Elliott School of International Affairs. I will move to DC in August to pursue a Masters in International Development Studies. Part of moving my life involves searching for a part-time job in my field to have while I pursue my studies. So if any of you have suggestions for part-time work, or contacts, in the fields of international development, human rights, or international relations in DC, I would greatly appreciate it if you would send them my way!

Back in the States

After 24 hours of traveling, I am back in Michigan. Both of my flights went quite well. There were hardly anyone on the flights, so I was able to have a row to myself on each one. Easy to spread out and sleep.

I can't believe I'm back here. I'm quite cold, but being able to drink water out of the tap is pretty nice. I had a burrito at Chipotle as my first meal back in the States. Not a bad deal.

Now I will be working on my Rotary report, and then giving speeches at Rotary Clubs during the month of March, as well as to any other group that wants to hear me speak. Looks like I'll be heading to Illinois Wesleyan University to give a presentation as well. Let me know if you would like me to give a presentation to a group you are a part of.

Thanks for reading.

Last Day in Dakar

March 3, 2008

I spent all day today wrapping up loose ends . Visited all my old professors at the Baobab center in the morning, and spent the coffee break with other students at the center who I've known since I arrived. I spent the lunch hours wandering around downtown taking pictures of everything I was too afraid to take pictures of before. Senegalese people in the streets do not take nicely to people snapping pictures everywhere. Usually when a camera is taken out, some Senegalese person will tell you (not very nicely) that you can't take pictures, or they'll demand money from you if they think they're in that picture. But, I decided it was worth the risk, as I had hardly any pictures of downtown. And it actually went quite well. I only had one person say "Hey! You just took a picture of me!" But, I simply pointed out that I had taken a picture of the shoes he was standing next to and not him. He then responded with, "Well, do you want a picture of me?" So it all worked out well. The one thing that didn't go well at first though, of course, was that I instantly looked like a tourist. So a few guys came up to me trying to talk and telling me that they would take me to their shop. I was not very nice to them, as I was full of different emotions about leaving, and they were being ridiculously persistent. Finally, after I got the third one to go away, the Senegalese man walking in front of me on the street turned around and said, "Aren't they annoying? They just don't get it. You can have white skin, and live in this city, and not be a tourist. But they just don't understand. They see white, and they think tourist and money. And of course, he doesn't have a shop. He has a cousin who has a cousin who has a cousin who owns a shop somewhere far from here. Because of course the owners of the shops never actually leave the shop." He was quickly my favorite person of the day. Because he understood my situation quite well and empathized with me. We continued to make small talk for about another block, and then wished each other a good day. I was able to take pictures of all sorts of vendors on the streets, and even in the busiest market without being hassled (which is absolutely unheard of). It was wonderful.

I stopped by to see some friends of mine who live downtown and say goodbye, then caught a cab back to the house of my old host family in Baobab. I spent about an hour with those who were home, and then went back to the apartment to take a nap and finish packing. Since a nap was impossible, I simply finished packing. Then headed to the supermarket where another friend of mine works, and hung out with him for a little bit and said goodbye.

Then headed back downtown to meet my friend Anna at one of my favorite restaurants on the coast. I had only been there once before (it is ridiculously expensive), but it was the perfect place to watch the sunset my last night in Dakar. It's a restaurant on a dock that jets out over the ocean. The waiter pulled two chairs for us to the edge of the dock, and we sat there and chatted while the sun went down.

I then headed back to Baobab to spend more time with my host family. I ate dinner there. And with all luck, they happened to serve my least favorite dish… liver and onions with overcooked spaghetti noodles and a side of white bread. But I could only laugh about it, and ate what I could. The family was truly wonderful, and it was very difficult to say goodbye to them. They gave me a present of a pang (a piece of fabric that Senegalese women use often as a wrap skirt around the house) that was an aqua blue with fish, seahorses, and seashells on it. My host mom said it was because I like the ocean so much. I went to visit the son of my Rotary Host Counselor as well, since he lives around the corner, and said goodbye to him. He was so helpful in making me feel right at home in Senegal when I first arrived, my transition would have been much more difficult without the help of him and his friends.

I went back to the apartment where I was staying, took a shower and packed up the rest of my things. Around midnight, I went to say goodbye to a few more friends and go on my last scooter ride in the city. At 2am, I headed back home and changed while a friend of mine got me a taxi for the airport. My friend somehow managed to find the oldest running vehicle in Dakar to take me to the airport. The headlights didn’t work, so the taxi driver (who could not possibly have been nicer) crawled to the airport, the trip took 3 times as long as it should have. Which made me nervous, because I was already running late to the airport. But all was fine, I made it in and onto my flight in time.

Last Weekend in Dakar

March 2, 2008

I spent my last weekend spending time with my friends in preparation to leave. Friday night I went out dancing with the girls and we ran into many people that I've met and known during my time here in Dakar. It was wonderful to be able to spend time with everyone again.

Saturday, I started packing. Something that I always hate doing and something I usually leave until the last minute. Although I didn't get much done, I did get all my stuff put in one place and began organizing what was going home with me and what was staying.

Saturday night, some of my friends threw me a goodbye party. So, we all got together and cooked, one of my friends spun the music, and we all had a really good time. It was an eclectic mix of people I had been friends with since arriving to a South African (who is taking 4 months to backpack alone through West Africa) I met last week in the sept-place on my way back to Dakar from Kaolack. And afterwards, we all went to a soirée at the océanarium where I was able to hang out with most people for one last time.

Sunday, today, I almost finished packing. Afterwards, I went to the beach for one last time with two of my best American friends in Dakar. The temperature was about 100 degrees again, so it was the perfect place to be. Afterwards, we went to get dinner at a restaurant where we could watch the sunset over the ocean. I will be spending the rest of tonight speaking French with my friends as that will be one thing that I will miss immensely when I return to the States.

Daily Life

February 30, 2008

As my time wraps up here, I'm reminded of things that I see and experience here everyday that one probably would not see or experience in the States. And it's not even that all these things happen on a daily basis, but that things like this happen every day. In my mind this week, I've been making a mental note of things that I've simply gotten used to here.

1. Walking down the street and having to walk around a cow that was heading my direction, in Dakar
2. Watching a little cat sit underneath a huge skinned dead animal of some sort (part of a cow I believe), happily spotted in drips of blood and munching away at parts of the carcass that had dropped to the ground
3. Marriage proposals from almost every taxi driver
4. Having to discuss the price of almost everything
5. Seeing sheep (or even pigs sometimes outside of Dakar) on the beach
6. Being followed and asked for money by terribly dirty little boys without shoes that7. Really little kids crying at the sight of me, because I'm white (when in a village, or areas of Kaolack)
8. Creating a parade without effort as young kids follow me to work while yelling "toubab" (in Kaolack)
9. Women's breasts being in plain sight
10. Soaking all vegetables I buy in bleach water before cooking and eating them
11. Getting stuck behind horse carts on the major roads in Dakar
12. Having to slow down or stop on the National Highway while waiting for donkeys or sheep or cattle to cross the road

Tailor Makes House Calls

February 29, 2008

I have wanted clothes made in this country the entire time I've been here. It took me up until this week to actually take the fabric I bought months ago to a tailor. There is a tailor on almost every street of Dakar. So, I took my fabric to the tailor across the street from my friend Anna's house. I wanted two full outfits made and an additional skirt. I dropped off my fabric, he took my measurements, and we sketched out how I wanted everything to look. Within a day and a half he had one of the skirts and one of the outfits made and ready for me to try-on. They of course needed to alterations done, so I gave them back and he finished them by the end of the day. With the other outfit, he gave it to me and told me to go try it on at Anna's apartment. He said if there was something not right with them, just to holler out the window. So I did, and they weren't right, so we called out the window to him. He came up to the apartment and pinned what needed to be fixed and then took the clothes back down to his shop with him. Later in the day, he sent his son up with the finished clothes. So fast, and also quite cheap. A few days later I had three skirts made, he did them in just a few hours, and it cost me $8.

Thursday Night Prayers

February 28, 2008

When I'm in Dakar, sometimes I stay at the apartment of my friend Anna. She lives in a neighborhood a few blocks away from my old house in Baobab. The neighborhood is super friendly and very community-like. This also means that there is never a quiet moment. During the day, the street is filled with kids playing and adults sitting on chairs or benches in front of the doors to their compounds. I can't walk down the street without greeting everyone and shaking all the little kids hands. It's also always a Wolof lesson for me, because most of the kids only speak Wolof. There are sheep who live on the roof of Anna's building who bleet away throughout the day. However at night, it tends to quiet down.

We have realized however that nighttime quietness is not always true. Anna's neighbors have gotten in the habit of holding prayer nights on Thursday evenings in the street directly below Anna's window. This means that the neighbors bring huge plastic mats out, and about 20 people or more gather starting at 9pm. They sit down, men on one side and women on the other, facing each other. For the next 3-4 hours, they sing and chant and pray to Allah. Which is wonderful, except it makes it incredibly difficult to sleep. We found it even more interesting when Anna's downstairs neighbors complained one day that there was a lot of sound the night before coming from Anna's apartment, they said they could simply here people moving around all night. Not music, not talking, just people moving around. Somehow this was very upsetting to the downstairs neighbors, but the people chanting out their window until the wee hours of the morning was not.

It really is fascinating to listen to the people in the street for a while. There are call and answer prayers, and things for women to sing, and things for men to sing, and such. But it's less fascinating at 12:30am when you know that the mosque will wake you up in less than 6 hours.