Closure

On the way forward...

It’s been more than three months since my unexpected return home from Kedougou, Senegal due to Covid 19.

During these past three months I scored a full-time direct hire position at the USDA, met someone pretty cool, and bought a bike almost identical to the one I had in Senegal. It seems like I climbed out of this evacuation and THRIVED, but that’s not true.

lil' Booga. 

Thinking of my time in Kedougou always brings intense emotions of longing and guilt. However, in an attempt to live in the moment, anytime those thoughts would pop up I would whack it out. But when staring at a camp fire in Northern Virginia brings me to tears because it reminds me of those cold season nights in village when a fire and my dog sitting at my feet was the nightly routine… I know “living in the moment” is impossible. I’m writing this to give myself some closure on how I’m feeling and address the fact that I’m not over it.

   

My life in Senegal was riding a shitty bike to work with a chain that kept falling off through mud and rocks in 110-degree heat. It was 15 hour night bus rides with no air conditioning from Kedougou to the capital once a month just to attend two-day trainings at the Peace Corps training center. It was catching fire in my hut that led me back to the
capital to recover for two months. It was biking 5 miles to the nearest road town for cell service to check my email, and then a two hour PACKED mini van ride for WiFi. It was being an outsider that would never be able to truly integrate in a community I admired. It was questioning the Peace Corps mission and asking whether we are doing more harm than good. It. Was. Tough.

Village "traffic" 

But in the midst of all that there were moments that I’ll always think fondly of. Like learning the local language and being able to joke around with the kids in village. It was drinking hot tea during the heat of the day with my host brothers and shooing away chickens. It was going out to the fields to greet my host sisters and learning how gardening works. It was the amazing transition from desert to tropical rainforest in the span of three months during rainy season. It was a dog, Booga, that was there for me when I was lonely. It was a group of amazing volunteers that was there for me to fall back on. And to continue the theme of things catching fire, it was how the community came together when a hut got struck by lightning and burned to the ground (no one was harmed).

Soooo many onions

The good, the bad, and the ugly combined to make Senegal the place where I got out of that convenient, sterile bubble I was in in the States and experience life at a level way beyond that bubble. And it was nice.

I delayed coming back to the States. Growing up as a third culture kid, I never identified this place as home anyways. Washington DC especially is a difficult and lonely place because everyone is a stranger and only here for work. I knew I would end up here sooner or later for a career, but I was planning on delaying that as much as possible.

My delay strategy was awesome too. I was gonna go bike packing with a peace corps friend for a month in Morocco and then spend Christmas in Germany. But the pandemic came rolling in in perfect 2020 fashion and threw me back to the very place I’ve been avoiding for the past year and a half. My time in Senegal was a dream.

Lonely DC. Photo cred: me :) 

Today I’m experiencing a whole new reality. The news is exploding about tragic things like the coronavirus not being taken seriously here in the US and culture wars occurring between the right and the left. A life-saving mask is now a political statement when it shouldn’t be. Black Lives Matter, a movement that I support and believe in, shed a powerful spotlight on the racial injustices in this country. So now I’m reconsidering what it means to be American, not only here but overseas too. Being in Peace Corps, the “white savior complex” was very present and not addressed during our trainings at all. After staying in Senegal for a year and a half, I realized that I know nothing about development compared to those in my community and that should be taught.

   

All that being said, I have hope that this fog will lift in the coming months. The Malinke phrase “dondin-dondin” (little by little) helped me cope with life in Senegal and is applicable to my journey right now. I’m just taking small, difficult steps towards my new reality.