On sharing the adventure

     Sometimes when you travel it's not what you find that makes the trip but who. This is a thank you of sorts, a love letter, a petition, an affidavit, an inventory. To those now on planes hurtling away across oceans and continents: thank you, I love you, I miss you, I think you owe me 50 CFA.

The Clinic

     I walk in every morning to a full waiting room. Forty small villages depend in this poste de santé for medical care and we will work until they've all been seen. General cases wait for the nurse, pregnant women and new babies wait to see the midwife.

Each patient first buys a ticket. Adults pay about $4 USD for their consultation and any prescriptions. "The government set this price", the nurse explains, "it doesn't always cover even the price of the medications to the clinic."

An Ode to a Tree

In the center of every village stands a great, grand tree, easily a century old. It is the town's meeting place, a shady spot to nap, a landmark, the heart of the village. It is supremely graceful, its leaves reaching out in a perfect orb. Neither a neighbor or the elements has diverted it from its slow upward crawl to the sun. Outside the village the tree's cousins dot the landscape, each more striking than the last. The family is varied but even within the same species each tree tells a unique story of its patch of land over the past few decades.

A corner of the world

The toads hold their nightly conference on the doorstep under the flicking light. In quiet chirps they discuss the happenings of the day. Attendance is up tonight from yesterday to 28; there must be some juicy gossip to share.

Internship!

In a few hours I'll be leaving for my internship in Keur Samba Guèye. I'll be working at a Poste de Santé which is a local health center for the next 5 and 1/2 weeks. Keur Samba Guèye is east of Toubacouta and just north of the Gambian border so I'll be able to do a lot of exciting traveling while I'm in the region. 

My internet connection will be slightly intermittent so if you don't hear from me, don't be concerned! I'll share all of my adventures as soon as possible. In the meantime I wish you all the best!

Lekkal!

     The first Wolof you learn here is indubitably the favorite phrase of Senegalese mamans: "Lekkal," the omnipresent command to eat. And woe is you if you think that is a polite invitation you can demure; it is a true imperative.

La grippe

     Being sick in an unfamiliar place is never fun but a fever of 101 degrees in Sub-Saharan Africa was really pushing it for me. As I lay in my bed sweating and aching, my malaise acted as a lightening rod for feelings of homesickness and culture shock.

The Bargain

We had a mission: obtain appropriate attire for the big soccer match between Senegal and the Ivory Coast.

And in Dakar, there's only one place to go when you need to buy, well, anything you can imagine really: Sandega Market.

Heart in Hand

     I have never thought of myself as an adventurer, and for most of my life, no one else has either.  Prone to over-analysis and exceedingly cautious by nature, I'm more surprised than anyone to wake up on a continent far away from the one I'm most used to.  The heady mix of languages that float in my window over the call to prayer finds me just as the sunlight does each morning, asking myself "How did I end up here?"

The Play

As the sun sets, I seek the cool breeze of the terrace. A show is starting and the price of admission is only a free moment and a watchful eye. I peer over the balcony onto the street below and watch as the stage unfolds.

A Day in the Life

As I head into my second week of classes at WARC, I'm starting to settle into a Senegalese rhythm in my days. I have classes Monday through Friday generally from 9am-6pm but most days I have several hours of free time within that. So if you're interested that means my typical day looks something like this:

A Brief Tour of Dakar

So here's the low down on the city I'll call home for the next 6 weeks. Dakar is ocean on three sides which means a beach and a cool breeze are never too far away. I live in the Mermoz neighborhood and walk to the West African Resource Center (WARC) in Fann for class. I'm staying with the Sow family which includes Papa Ibrahima, Maman Coumba and my host brothers Ousmene and Moustapha.

So much more

"For better or for worse, it is so much more." Wise and resonant words from another MSID student and friend about our burgeoning relationship with Dakar.

First Impressions

I've been here for just under 48 hours and it feels like a lifetime and a millisecond. Dakar is in every way overwhelming. It's both beautiful and covered with trash, quiet with the sounds of birds and then shaking as jumbo jets pass overhead, small and personable and also impossibly vast.

We arrived very early Monday morning and were greeted by the incredibly friendly and supportive MSID staff who dropped us off at our hotel. After a quick nap we started our orientation at the house of the MSID housing coordinator. There we received a crash course in Senegalese culture and the necessary information to keep us out of trouble for the first few days.

Senegalese food is AMAZING, though I've discovered I will never be able to eat enough to make a Senegalese woman happy. C'est dommage.

Today we went on a whirlwind tour of the city that I'll write about once I've had time to digest. Suffice to say, Senegal is a truly thrilling challenge. The mosquitoes are starting to bite which is my cue to retire. À bientot!

Perspective

     At 5:40pm this Sunday, I'll board a plane bound for Dakar, Senegal. It's not the first time I've flown or left the country or even lived abroad but this trip already feels different.
     This time it's to a country I can't picture in my mind, to a country where I don't know a soul and I can't lie and say that I'm not afraid.
     So, truth be told, I haven't thought much about leaving this summer. I prepared of course, procured my clothes, prescriptions, visas, tickets, everything I knew I'd need. I just didn't think about actually leaving and what that would mean. With a little over three days left, the truth of the situation is becoming difficult to ignore. There are moments at two in the morning where anxiety wraps it's chilly hand around my chest and goodbyes that cause a painful lurch in my stomach. I looked at my mom today and said, "I'm leaving" and we both began to cry.
     This is not, however, a sad occasion and I try to bring as much perspective to it as my 21 years allow. I'm embarking on a grand adventure but frankly, so is everyone else. For 8 months, our adventures will take us down different paths but in it's own way that's quite exhilarating. There will be more stories to share and triumphs to celebrate and much to look forward to at our happy reunion. So my goal is to say not "Goodbye" but "Good luck! And you damn well better email me."