Hi All,
We’ve been back in the good ‘ol U.S.A. for over two months
now, and I’ve been procrastinating writing this post. How am I supposed to wrap
up this experience and provide “blog closure” (I just made that term up…) when
I don’t feel like I’ve really begun to process it yet?
The answer is that distilling the experience and the
feelings in words (written or spoken) is simply impossible, and recognizing that
has been important. I feel a lot of responsibility to thoughtfully share our
experience, since that is one of the 3 goals of Peace Corps (the others being
engaging in development work, and sharing American culture in your host
country), and it’s difficult to figure out how to do this. I want to do
Senegalese people and culture, and the Peace Corps experience justice in these
conversations, but I don’t want to put people off, or be too intense, or take
up too much of someone’s time, or go on for too long so they glaze over and
stop listening… But I’m now realizing that in a lot of ways, this is really
just the beginning of our Peace Corps service, and just the beginning of these
conversations. We have time to figure out how to talk about Senegal and our experience
there. Although we are wrapping up this blog, we are committed to sharing about
our experiences with Senegalese people and culture with anyone who is
interested (or will feign listening), to embracing opportunities to learn about
new cultures and people, and to being life-long champions of cultural exchange.
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| Me, Peter, Baay and Fallou at Magal, Senegal's largest religious pilgrimage. |
Considering all of this, I now have a new goal for this
FINAL post: to simply give you some insight into what we've been up to, and how we’re
feeling 2.5 months post-returning to the U.S. I also want to include a few
photos that I feel sum up the important people/feelings/moments of our service.
That’s a bit less daunting, right? I can't promise I won't be all over the place, though!
We successfully finished all of our projects, said all of
our goodbyes, and left Guinguineo for good on August 30, 2015, leaving enough time
for us to frantically finish all of our seemingly endless “Close of Service”
(COS) paperwork in Dakar, and the attend our 3-day Close of Service workshop in
Thies with the rest of our stage. It was a whirlwind, but we managed to get
everything done (thanks to some awesome Peace Corps Dakar Staff!). The
conference felt a bit self-congratulatory and I felt weird that our host
families and counterparts weren’t invited or officially recognized, but with
budgets and logistics and all that, I guess it’s not really possible (more on
that later, though…). Peace Corps staff did a good job of helping us to
recognize our accomplishments, and to provide information on how to navigate
and utilize Peace Corps benefits (health insurance and medical vouchers, the
Coverdell Fellowship program for grad school, non-competitive hiring
eligibility for Government jobs, etc) after returning to America.
While it wasn't always the smoothest ride, we are very grateful to Peace Corps Senegal staff for keeping us [mostly] safe and healthy throughout our service. There was certainly lots of bureaucracy and institutional clunkiness to wade through, but Peace Corps Senegal is staffed by great individuals. We were lucky to have great bosses, and many of the PC staff became good friends.
While it wasn't always the smoothest ride, we are very grateful to Peace Corps Senegal staff for keeping us [mostly] safe and healthy throughout our service. There was certainly lots of bureaucracy and institutional clunkiness to wade through, but Peace Corps Senegal is staffed by great individuals. We were lucky to have great bosses, and many of the PC staff became good friends.
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| The Guinguineo Eaux et Forets (Senegalese forestry service) squad, including my Supervisor Boniface Gomis, admiring Makani's tree nursery. He grew and outplanted over 1,000 trees this past summer! Talk about motivation! |
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| Man, I miss this guy! Our working partnership, and our midday chats about life and culture, were one of the most important and fulfilling parts of my service. I know he'll continue to lead his community in agroforestry efforts, and I can't wait to go back and see the transformation in his fields. |
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| Idy filling tree sacks with our friend Mariatou Diallo's womens' group. |
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| Idy leading a vegetable nursery prep training at the home of our dear friend, Lemou Ba. |
We flew home to Missouri on September 6, 2015, had a day to do laundry and pack the car, then we set off for California in our new [to us] Prius, with Lisa in tow, via Denver. We got to see our niece, Miss Mira, again, which was such a joy! She had grown so much between June and September, and she was so engaging with everything. After 24 hours in Denver, we left Lisa and the Josts (Carrie, John, Mira and Shadow) and continued on to CA, via Reno (our most shocking cultural experience since returning home- yikes!). We made it to Stanford in time to get the keys to our new apartment, on the last day possible to move into student housing, September 11. Woohoo! We had a week to unpack, move in, and get our bearings before classes started. Oh, and I flew back east for a baby shower somewhere in there. Needless to say, we wouldn’t recommend this tight of a timeline for reintegration to life in America. But we pulled it off and have been sprinting on the proverbial treadmill ever since. Not surprisingly, we are both feeling a pretty deep sense of exhaustion right now. We are really looking forward to some down time, which will hopefully include some time for reflection, during the Holiday break.
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| Check out our new whip! It's SO clean, and we can control the number of occupants, the music, the TEMPERATURE, and all doors and windows and seat belts exist and are fully functional. It's pretty much heaven to travel in this thing. |
Back to recognizing the Senegalese people in our community,
though… With Thanksgiving upon us, it feels like an appropriate time to attempt
to express our gratitude. We were happy and productive in Senegal because we
had a wonderful support system of generous Senegalese people. Our service was
hard and stressful and hot, and there were often language and cultural
barriers. But the Diops and their network, Makani and the people of Nguick, and
the Senegalese friends we made along the way totally shaped our experience for
the better. They educated us and supported us, and helped us to utilize the
tools Peace Corps provided. It wasn’t a job we could show up and do between 9
AM and 5 PM. We had to live it all the time, and thus we were constantly asking
Senegalese people for things to help us do our work- their time, their
knowledge, their patience. Early in the morning, during the middle of the day
researched for resting, late at night, and on weekends and holidays.
Yaay often refers to our early time in Guinguineo as when we
were still breastfeeding, meaning before we could do pretty much anything for
ourselves. It’s a pretty accurate metaphor; our community, and our family in
particular, raised us from helpless children to effective community organizers
in the span of 2 years. I cannot appropriately communicate how grateful we are
to the people who helped us, supported us, and loved us during our time in Senegal.
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| The Diops on Korite. Thanks, Caitlin Healy, for playing photographer with my crappy camera! |
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| Casual family portrait, with Papa Gorre in full tantrum mode, standard for the after-lunch hour. |
Someone said to me once “Yeah, but they’re not your real family.” I guess I can understand
the knee-jerk skepticism, but Peter and I probably spent more time with the
Diops over the past 2 years than we have with our nuclear families over the
past 10 years cumulatively. We started and ended each day with a series of
ritualized greetings, and in the time in between, we all shared space, depended
on each other, loved each other, and saw each other at our best and worst. We
didn’t agree on everything, but we loved and respected each other despite our
differences. If that’s not family, I don’t know what is.
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| Napping/reading with Fallou after Korite 2015. |
It’s hard to be separated from our Senegalese family and
friends, and each time we hear of a new atrocity happening somewhere in the
world, I want to teleport back to Guinguineo to hold Ouli, Soda, Fallou, and
Papa Gorre tight. But mostly, I am grateful for the time we had together. It’s
not over, as we plan to go back and visit, and I do hope that we will be able
to host Senegalese family members in America at some point in the future, but I
am grateful for what a special time it was. I am committed to paying it
forward, to opening my home and my heart to people who are trying to make a
difference, and to people who need some help.
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| Separating moringa seeds from the pods is always more fun as a group activity! |
It’s cliché, but a piece of my heart will always be in
Senegal, and I hope I will always remember who I was when I answered to Ndeye
Penda Diop every day.
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| A selfie with the boys, while Yaay teaches us how to cook mafe, my favorite Senegalese dish. |
One of the biggest adjustments has been transitioning from a
collective to an individual society, literally overnight. In Senegal, we often
longed for a quiet, clean room with climate control and a fully stocked grocery
store down the street. Now that we live in one of those quiet rooms, it feels a
bit soulless.
I was trying to describe this to a friend the other day, and
the best I could do was contrast the experience of coming home from a day’s
“work” in America vs Senegal:
In America, I usually come home from class a little bit
tired, and a little bit drained. I open the door, and am greeted by my
wonderful husband, and a calm, clean, and climate-controlled space. I get to
work on homework and studying, and reheat part of a bulk meal I made on the
weekend in the microwave or oven. Or I watch HGTV on Xfinity and dream about
owning a house.
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| Our quiet, clean, and peaceful apartment in Palo Alto. |
In Senegal, I was usually pretty pooped after a full day out
in the heat, speaking Wolof and holding my own in groups of men (the people I
dealt with most often). I would come
around the corner, and if it was the evening, the kids would usually be romping
and playing games in front of the house while Baay at in front of the
grill, getting it started and making his
special sauces and seasonings for the dibi.
The kids would start screaming and chanting “Ndeye Penda’s home!” while running
toward me. “Stop and look before crossing the street!” I’d usually have to
yell. I was greeted by endless hugs and stories about their day at school, and
what I’d missed at home. Then I’d greet Baay with a handshake and a curtsy-
“Ndeye Penda! How was your day?” he’d always say. “We missed you! You’re such a
hard worker! Kids, leave her alone- she needs to go rest!”- before going inside
to greet Yaay. She was usually in her kitchen or the backyard, making fatayas
or heating up the kids’ dinner. “Ndeye Penda! I was so lonely today! I missed
you! You look tired- go clean up and rest. You work so hard! Oh, I saved a bowl
of lunch for you. Idy has it inside for you. I’m glad you’re home.” Then I’d
continue on to our little apartment. Greta usually greeted me before even
getting inside, bounding up from the garden when she heard me come home. Then
I’d meet Happy Cat on the porch, purring and demanding attention. Inside our
kind of dirty, but perfectly livable apartment, my wonderful husband would
usually be listening to a podcast and getting dinner started (usually some sort
of sandwich, pasta, or egg dish). He’d give me a big hug (or if it was really
hot, just a kiss on the cheek), and we’d chat about our respective days.
Usually within a few minutes, the kids would start to trickle in, to ask if
they could work on their coloring books or help us cook dinner or watch a
cartoon on the computer.
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| This is what I miss the most. Oh, what I'd give to teleport back, hug the kiddos, snuggle Happy Cat (RIP), and throw a stick for Lady O (I hope she knows we think of her often, and send her lots of love at her new home)! |
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| The gardening squad. |
In an attempt to quell some of the loneliness we’ve been
feeling, we got a dog! Meet Desi, our new baby. She has truly been the best
medicine in this transition, helping us to meet and bond with our neighbors, to
get outside more, to run and play, and to have more compassion and patience for
ourselves. It’s hard to stay down or stressed (about school, life, yourself, or
anything, really) for long when you get to come home to Desi’s unconditional
love and never ending excitement. It’s contagious. If only the Diop kiddos
could meet her!
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| Desi and Peter at Half Moon Bay, CA. |
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| A prowling beast, on the lookout for crab shells to eat! Sound familiar? Yeah, she reminds us a lot of Tybee, who is happy and healthy at home in FL with my parents, who refuse to give her back. |
It's probably worth mentioning that we're both really enjoying our respective academic programs (Civil Engineering- Sustainable Design and Construction for Peter, Environmental Horticulture and Landscape Design for me). We feel so grateful for the opportunity to be students again, and we are so incredibly excited about the kinds of opportunities our respective studies will open for us in the coming year or two! Desi is the perfect study buddy in the mean time.
We have been calling family and friends in Senegal every two weeks or so. I am so grateful for Viber, and for the old iPhone Alex and Jake gave me! It’s hard to have a meaningful conversation over the phone, because of Wolof phone culture (it’s a lot of ritualized greetings rather than real talk), shaky phone connections, and our slipping language skills. But, I try to remember that the important thing is that we are reminding each other that we are thinking of each other, even if we don’t know everything that’s going on in each others’ lives.
We have been calling family and friends in Senegal every two weeks or so. I am so grateful for Viber, and for the old iPhone Alex and Jake gave me! It’s hard to have a meaningful conversation over the phone, because of Wolof phone culture (it’s a lot of ritualized greetings rather than real talk), shaky phone connections, and our slipping language skills. But, I try to remember that the important thing is that we are reminding each other that we are thinking of each other, even if we don’t know everything that’s going on in each others’ lives.
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| Yummy macaroni lunch, with "salad" and fried eggs (all in one bowl), cooked by my wonderful husband! |
Our replacements have been selected (congratulations, Molly and Meg!) and will install in Guinguineo and Nguick, respectively, in December. We’re hoping that they will be willing to keep us updated on the big stuff happening in the Diop and Tall families, and around Guinguineo in general!
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| Idy making hilarious faces from behind the camera... |
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| Peter, Lemou, and me in our garden, on our last evening in Guinguineo. Baby Idrissa's in there, too! |
Thankfully, part of Guinguineo came to us last week! One of
my favorite days recently was hosting a Senegalese friend, Yatma Diop, for
dinner at our apartment in Palo Alto. Yatma grew up in Guinguineo, and was
friends with the first PCV couple in Guinguieo, Chuck and Paula
(coincidentally, he is also related to Lemou). They have stayed in touch, and
Chuck and Paula encouraged Yatma to swing by our house in Guinguineo to say
hello when he was home in Guinguineo for a holiday. We got to chatting, and
learned he’s working on a joint Stanford-Tostan research project, and would be
coming to Palo Alto in November. He’s currently here, and it’s been a huge
treat! The week he arrived, we were enjoying happy hour at the campus union
when Peter said he saw a guy dressed in Senegalese clothing. I went over to
introduce myself to the guy, and it was Yatma! He had sent me a Facebook
message that morning, but I hadn’t seen it yet. So serendipitous! It was the
occasion I’ve been waiting for to get my butt in gear to cook mafe. Remember
the video we posted of Yaay teaching me how to cook mafe in our last post? Here
it is again:
I’m kicking myself for not filming/photographing the process
for making crock pot mafe in America! You can imagine that it was really easy,
and I did not need to stir the peanut butter with my hand. Yaay would be
absolutely flabbergasted at how easy it was! Granted, my mafe was not Yaay’s
mafe. It was not as good, and it was missing something I couldn’t put my finger
on (aside from a mother’s love, that is). I think it will be a staple in our
house for years to come, and Yatma gave it his stamp of approval, so I’m happy.
When I spoke with Yaay earlier this week, she was so happy I made it. I told her
it wasn’t as good as hers, and she said she didn’t believe me (although I think
she was being nice; she really didn’t like any of my cooking in Senegal, except
mac n cheese!).
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| 3 Diops in America: Peter, Yatma, and me! |
With an experience like Peace Corps, there is the expectation
that it changes you. Several people have asked if/how I think I’ve changed. To
be honest, I’m not really sure yet. I guess I feel slightly more competent. I know
I feel more compassionate. Now more than ever, I feel that family and community
and love are the most important things in life. It’s been difficult readjusting
to American life in the midst of so many polarizing events, both domestic and
international. I feel like I have come back with a more open heart, and I see
and hear many people around me beginning to close off out of fear or
misunderstanding, or a combination. Looking at my Facebook news feed is an
emotional rollercoaster ride…
I am buoyed by successes like the recent Supreme Court
decision to uphold marriage rights for same-sex couples in June (It was about damn time! We were SO proud to be American on June 26, 2015!), but saddened and upset
by the racial tension across our country. Mostly I just feel frustrated that I
don’t know what to do to help. I am hopeful that as a country, we can
acknowledge the systematic oppression that still very much affects the lives of
people of color in America, and work together to break down this system and
build up a culture of tolerance, love, and acceptance. As a white person, it’s
hard to know how to be the best ally, so for now I’m simply professing my support,
taking opportunities to talk about it, and urging advocates onward in their
struggle for equality. It’s been really inspiring following the advocacy work of DeRay
McKesson, a friend and fellow Bowdoin grad, and Peter’s freshman year proctor.
It gives me hope.
I am also encouraged by the news that the Ebola outbreak is
almost over, after almost 2 years of unimaginable upheaval for many West
African countries, and over 11,000 lives lost. Guinea’s last known Ebola
patient was discharged from a treatment center last week, and Liberia and
Sierra Leone are Ebola free. Alhamdoulilah!
But I am deeply saddened by the recent large-scale terrorist attacks in
Lebanon, France, Nigeria, and very close to home, in Mali. What is honestly
more upsetting, though, has again been watching the news and my Facebook news
feed react. So much fear and hate and distrust. I am so sad about how much
these recent terrorist attacks affect the lives of Muslims (here in American and abroad), who are being
treated with suspicion and fear, and sometimes hate, as a result of these
extremists’ actions. I am bewildered that anyone could group our Muslim
family and friends (American or Senegalese) with extremists terrorists, just because they are apparently of
the same Muslim faith (although Baay, and any Senegalese or American Muslim I have spoken to about the issue of
extremist terrorists, would be quick to tell you that anyone who
kills or harms another person in the name of Allah is NOT a true Muslim). Please join me in sending love and support not only to the victims of these terrorist acts and their families, but also to our Muslim brothers and sisters who are unfairly bearing the brunt of so much misplaced fear and anger.
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| The Nguick guys. Samba "Bacc" Ndoy, who came into town with Makani to help unload our stuff from the Peace Corps car when we arrived, Baay Modu Ndiaye, my host father in Nguick, and Makani Tall, my BFF, Counterpart, and he most important person in my service outside the Diop family. |
I am so sad that the desperate refugees fleeing this kind of
horrible extremist violence, most of whom are coming from Syria, have become
scapegoats and pawns in political games. They are real people, whose lives and
futures now depend on the good will of our world. Most of us cannot imagine our
country becoming such an ugly and unsafe place that we decide to risk our lives
to leave, in hopes that we might find
resettlement somewhere else, eventually, in a place that will probably have a different language
and culture and geography. That is not something that one signs up for unless
they are utterly out of options. I hope that more people from more fortunate countries, first and foremost America, can find the
compassion in their hearts for these people, and instead of reacting out of
[misguided] fear, welcome refugees into their communities and homes. Love is
the answer, and I hope that Peter and I have the opportunity to house and help
and guide people new to America, as so many Senegalese people helped us.
I want to end by expressing gratitude to you, our family and
friends. We LOVED sharing this experience with you, and we really appreciate all of the encouragement we received for the blog. Thank you for reading, for caring, and for supporting us in our Peace
Corps adventure. Your love and support was also an important part of our
success and happiness in Senegal. Your cards, emails, phone calls, care
packages, and donations to Girls’ Camp and MSS meant more than you will ever
know!
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We’re wishing a happy holiday season to all, and sending
love you way.
Jamm ak Jamm,
Kait (and Peter)
p.s. If anyone reading this blog is debating whether or not
to do Peace Corps, DO IT! (But be ready to be self-sufficient.)
