We’ll start the story about a year and a half ago, with me in
Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone, about 1 year into Peace Corps
service. I’m doing what so many
Sierra Leone Volunteers do during our oh so rare trips to the capital: wasting
all my time on facebook rather than going to the absolutely beautiful local
beaches. Anyway that day I was in
for a surprise: a good friend of mine from college (Lisa if you aren’t with me
yet) was accepted into the Peace Corps and was headed out to Senegal, only 2
countries away! I made up my mind
pretty quickly that I had to visit her.
I mean, what are the odds of ending up so close to each other? Actually once I remembered she speaks
French, I realized what I should have been thinking are what are the odds of
her ending up anywhere else besides West Africa. It’s actually much more surprising that I ended up out
there.
Fast forward maybe 6 months or so and Lisa (along with
Amber, another part of the UCLA crew) came to visit me in Sierra Leone for a week. I loved hosting them in my country and
in my village. It was awesome but
maybe a bit embarrassing that Lisa came into my village, found the local Fula
community, and started dominating the language (we say Fula in Sierra Leone,
they say Pular in Senegal). Everybody kept telling me how her Fula was so much
better than my Mende (the majority tribe in my village and the language I wish
I knew better), which I would promptly make worse by saying “yeah, and she’s been
in country a year less than I have”.
I think I became a much less impressive person in my community once they
saw you. Yeah, thanks for that…
Another 8 months later the time came for me to say goodbye
to my new home, my country of service, my community, my life. It was extremely difficult to leave the
place that had become my home and the people that had become my family, but it
was definitely helpful to know I was headed to Senegal first for 2 ½ weeks. It was comforting that at least I
wasn’t leaving West Africa.
So what did we do in Senegal? We got to be tourists in Dakar, where I marveled at how big
the city is compared to Freetown and the fact that when you call a taxi you
just go. That’s right, you don’t
have to wait for the taxi to fill (read overload) like you do in Sierra
Leone. The two of us would just
get in and go. Seriously I don’t
think that ever stopped blowing my mind.
Highlights in Dakar: shopping at the local market (and maybe a detour
into higher class stores), eating foods that I never saw anywhere in Sierra
Leone…actually the 2 things I was most excited to eat were wheat bread and
yogurt. Shows you what happens
after 2 years in the Peace Corps.
Feed me Ethiopian food?
That’s awesome! Give me a
loaf of wheat bread? I think I
savored every bite of that in a way that can’t even be explained in words. We went to some other touristy
destinations – I especially liked our trip to Goree Island, and of course
getting to meet Senegal Volunteers.
One interesting thing about being in Senegal was there are so many
volunteers that not everybody knows everybody (like we do in Sierra Leone), so
half the time I would just pretend to be one of them! That is until somebody spoke something in a local language,
then I was pretty easily exposed.
Then it was off to the South! Down to the greener side of the country, which I was
extremely grateful for, having left my tropical paradise of a home. We headed down to Kolda and went
through the usual extreme change from capital city to anywhere else in a West
African country. And on top of
that it was the end of Ramadan. Everyone
and everything is quiet during this time of the year, and life moves especially
slowly. We have a mix of Muslims
and Christians in Sierra Leone, so I’ve always been aware of Ramadan each time
it comes around, but it was a different experience in Senegal. Being in a Pular community where Islam
is such a majority, and where strong family is valued in a very different way
than in Sierra Leone, was a striking change.
The week there was exactly what it should have been in a
village in West Africa. Walking
around and visiting friends and colleagues; just sitting with people and
talking. Spending time with other
Peace Corps Volunteers. Getting
our hair done and our clothes sewn in time for prayday. And let me be very clear, we spent
about 6 hours getting our hair braided.
6 often painful hours where we weren’t eating or drinking because it was
Ramadan and we were being respectful to those around us. Either that or we just didn’t plan
ourselves well. Then I think my
poor pitiful starving face made Lisa lose her better cultural judgment and send
for food. I wasn’t complaining, I
got to eat rice! Then prayday
came, a day after Mecca celebrated, and we ate! We ate fantastic food at home, then started making rounds to
greet everybody on Lisa’s list. If
you’ve never tried biking around a West African town wearing full African
clothes, hair braided extremely tight, at night on poorly lit streets that you
still don’t know well, I’ll tell you it isn’t easy…but seriously what a great
couple of days (and a night out)!
I’m so glad I was still in West Africa for prayday. It wouldn’t have felt right starting
Ramadan in Sierra Leone and ending it in America, probably not seeing any signs
that it was a special day unless I worked real hard to go find it.
There were a few more days hanging out in Kolda, trying to
get people to like me even though I couldn’t speak any language. They’d be like Pular? No. Wolof? No. Well then at least French right? No. Then what do you speak? English,
which most people couldn’t, Krio (and no not the Guinea-Bissau version coming
from Portuguese), and a little bit of Mende (no, not Mandinka), which they had
never heard of. So I had to find
other ways to be charming! As
difficult as it was to deal with the fact that I couldn’t really talk to
anybody, especially after being fluent in Krio in Sierra Leone, I was just
continually impressed with the diversity in West Africa. Those of you out there who know more should
check this, but I think West Africa is one of the most diverse areas in the
world in terms of tribes and languages, and in such a small area. And I had the unreal opportunity to
meet people from so many tribes and hear so many languages. Examples off the top of my head from
both Sierra Leone and Senegal of people I’ve met and languages I’ve heard:
Mende, Timne, Krio, Loko, Gissi, Susu, Limba, Ibo (a Nigerian woman living in
Sierra Leone), Fula (Pular), Mandingo (Mandinka), Kono, Jola, Wolof, and I’m
sure others I didn’t even realize I was hearing (not to mention others still
from my trip to Ghana). Seriously
how many people have the opportunity to experience that…
Then it was off again.
We were on the road from then on out. We stopped in Tamba for a night, then were off to Toubakouta for
mangrove reforestation with an army of other Peace Corps Volunteers. I can’t even begin to explain how
beautiful the delta region is.
Sitting with good people, swimming in the most refreshing water, and
watching the sunset over the delta is something I can’t even describe. After one last stop in a beautiful
beach town it was back to the wonders of Dakar and then a sad goodbye to West
Africa.
