Blogger's Block

You’ll have to excuse me for my month long hiatus as it seems I hit some sort of “blogger’s block.” Now I’m faced with the dilemma of deciding how I can sum-up the past month in a single post. Rainy season has officially started and even having grown up in Seattle, that couldn’t have prepared me for this. When I say rainy season I don’t mean that it rains all day, everyday. No. The day will start out blistering hot and then right before the rain starts a huge windstorm hits. That’s the signal to finish up whatever you’re doing and find cover fast! Some windstorms are longer than others, so oftentimes it becomes a game of chance. One time I was at a meeting with a few other volunteers when the wind started. It was a race against time as we biked back to the regional house. Needless to say, we lost and ended up drenched. Another day I was biking to a neighboring village where I was going to do a home visit for one of the scholarship recipients. I just reached the outskirts of the village when the wind started to pick up. It wasn’t looking as if time was on my side, as I frantically had to ask where this girl lived. Just as I pulled into the family’s compound the rain started coming down in buckets. The family invited me into their home where I waited out the storm.  It was still drizzling as I biked back home through puddles of red mud trying to make it home before dark. This, of course, happened to be the day I wore the only white t-shirt I brought with me to country. You can only imagine what it looks like now, especially after its thorough wash in the river.

A storm approaching my village, my family thought I was crazy taking pictures of clouds.

My days in village have somewhat of a routine to them. And by routine, I mean my eating schedule is pretty consistent. I recently started taking a second breakfast mid-morning to hold me over until lunch, but to also give me something to do. I’ll buy a sandwich from one of the ladies sitting on the side of the road or from one of the small boutiques my village has. The sandwiches cost the equivalent of 20 cents and can have anything in them from beans to avocado. The strangest sandwich I had contained spaghetti noodles and onions, but when you’re hungry, that sandwich-o-carbs is oh so satisfying. Going out for second breakfast has also forced me out of my comfort zone and into the community where I’m able to interact with my village. The people in my village, while very welcoming, love to laugh at me when I struggle with the language.

A waterfall in Dindefello...a village in my region.

This has definitely become one of my biggest hurdles and is an ongoing battle. One day I became so frustrated with my host sister that I locked myself in my hut for five hours. I finally had to explain to her how difficult it is for me sometimes because I’m living in a new place, learning a completely new language. To make my point even more clear, I told her I had only been learning Jaxanke for a couple months while she has been learning English for two years and still can’t speak it. Yes that may have been a little harsh, but it’s the truth and I needed to get my point across somehow. This whole interaction of course happened in French and I’m lucky enough to have that second language to fall back on. Some of the more rural villages don’t speak French at all, so I was relieved when I found out most of my village spoke it. I’m still putting in an effort though to learn my local language, and it’s coming along slowly. The bragging rights I’ll have after becoming trilingual are pretty encouraging too.

So the Fourth of July just passed and for not being in America, I still had a pretty patriotic time. My region throws the annual party for all of the volunteers in Senegal, and this year’s party was epic. We roasted eight pigs and ate them alongside a variety of good ole American sides. In the middle of the day it started storming, but that didn’t stop us from dancing. It reminded me of Rihanna’s “We Found Love” video when they’re all dancing in the rain. And what’s more patriotic than feeling like you’re in a Rihanna music video? The best part of the Fourth though was being able to see everyone from my stage (training group). As I mentioned in a previous post, we had endured nine long weeks of training together and then were spread out all over Senegal. It was nice to see so many familiar faces after almost two months apart, and the turn out was surprising with only a few people from our stage not having come down.

Fourth of July dance party in the rain.

For now though, I’m in village, devoting my long days to language learning, compound crashing, and managing to accept my new life without electricity or running water. I think I’ve surprised even myself with how smoothly this transition to a more “simple” lifestyle has been, although the thought of being able to take a hot shower without having to pull my own water still sounds enticing. But for now, a bucket bath with the occasional addition of boiling water will do.