These last couple weeks have been up and down. Every day is a learning experience which is good when you feel like you're making progress and really bad when you aren't. Over the last couple weeks and some change, I got to know my family, did some traveling, and hit my first really rough patch that I'm still working my way out of. When we last spoke, I was about to move in with the family I'll be living with for the next 2 years, so let me start there.
Life with the family has been pretty uneventful so far. Move-in was a very busy day during which I met several government officials as well as my host family, but nothing remarkable came of it besides the exchange of a few phone numbers. The interesting part, to my perspective, came when all of the dust settled and it was just me and my family trying to create a situation we might call "normal". I started by learning names and relationships. There's the mother and father Ms. Cisse and Mr. Diop (in Senegalese culture, women often choose to keep their maiden name), as well as a few kids (Pap, Amadou, and Buoy), a daughter-in-law (Biti), and some help around the house/adopted sister (Mami). Pretty much all of them speak French, but we've made an agreement to speak only Wolof with me to help me learn, a decision which has caused its fair share of problems. Sometimes they get frustrated when I don't understand, sometimes I don't want to talk and go in my room, but, all and all, there have been no major problems with the family or living situation so far. The house itself, actually, is extremely nice by anybody's standards. There's a TV, running water, multiple stories, and wi-fi (which is a blessing and a curse). I have my own bed and bathroom and electricity and internet in my room so I have everything I could ever ask for in terms of amenities. As I said, though, this type of connectivity is not without its drawbacks.
Consistent internet allows me to keep in touch with my family or look up important information or communicate with colleagues. However, it also gives me a keen awareness of everything that I left behind in America. College graduations happened over the past few weekends which brought to my Facebook feed pictures of not just The Lawn at U.Va., but also graduations at Virginia Tech, North Carolina, and other schools. I saw people I once knew with whom I could have developed a closer friendship had I not been changing schools every year. I saw groups of people or pairs of friends that I remembered as freshman or sophomores, now graduating seniors and I imagined the experiences they had between when I left them and that picture. I imagined what it would have been like to share my college experience with somebody; to spend 4 years in one town. To an extent, I envy that. I envy it because I never really built a home at college. My experience was quite unique and rewarding, but, as a result, I had to go through it alone. I had to give up my life at Virginia Tech to go to UNC. I had to give up my life at UNC to go to U.Va. I had to give up my life in Richmond to come here. It's one thing to choose to go to one school over another, but it's another to go somewhere, meet the people you could spend 4 years (or the rest of your life) with, start down that road and choose to go another direction. Every life is an infinite fractal. You have an infinite amount of paths to walk down, so you must turn down an infinite amount of opportunities. When you begin walking one direction and see friendships blossoming, opportunities arising, a life developing, it's that much harder to turn around. I've chosen to do that 3 times and the costs are starting to catch up to me. I don't exactly regret moving around so much, but I'm now keenly aware of the costs of it. Eventually, I got the degree I wanted, but at what cost? Certainly more than just tuition. It cost me friendships, too. Maybe I'll grow to regret that exchange with time, maybe I'll realize how wise I was in my young years, but right now I'm caught in the middle questioning my priorities and life decisions that led me here. That, ladies and gentlemen, is why the internet is not always a good thing.
Back to life in Dakar, so since move-in, I've had absolutely no contact with any of my bosses or other Peace Corps officials. It's been entirely up to me to get to know the town, continue studying the language, and generally find things to do with myself. I've generally just been traveling to different parts of the city to learn the bus system and see the sights. In the more touristy areas, it's rare for a white person to speak Wolof, so I become a spectacle that draws the attention of several locals who are either genuinely interested in my or feigning interest to get close to me. Unfortunately, it's very difficult to tell the difference between the two, so you have to treat everyone with respect. In other places, nobody approaches me or seems to care that I'm there, but I feel like I'm still treated differently. I obviously stand out in a crowd because of both my size and pigmentation, but during training, I didn't feel like I got treated very differently because of it. Now, I feel like people look at me differently; are trying to assign stereotypes to me and judge me. I also question the motives of the people who approach me now. I've had a few bad experiences with people trying to rip me off and work me over, so I always wonder when the person is going to ask me to come to his shop or flatly ask for money. I can count on my hands the number of people who, besides my family, I felt like were genuinely interested in me and not pretending to be so because they thought they could get something out of me. Again, maybe I'm cynical, but I think I have a reason to be cautious. I am aware of the stereotypes that I'm facing. All I can do, though, is continue to work to find the people who will treat me with respect and care about me as a person. I've met a few already and I know I'll meet more in a country that calls itself "Le Pays de la Teranga" (The Country of Hospitality). It just takes time to build those relationships.
I'll be meeting my work partners soon and after that I'll have a good idea of exactly what type of work I'll be doing. I'll be sure to post when that happens and I'll also try to get pictures of my room and living situation up for the next post as well. Thanks for reading!
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Fearless
So it begins.
I passed my final language exam, went to the beach, attended the swearing-in ceremony and am now sitting in the regional house in Dakar waiting to move into my family on Tuesday, the 13th. There's quite a lot to reflect on, so let me pick up where I left off in my last post.
We said good-bye to our host families and host towns almost a week ago now. We had a party in Thies to celebrate their commitment and our making it through the homestay. My good-bye, like most others I've had, was a fairly anti-climactic one. There was no exchanging of large gifts or displays of affection. However, I do have a profound gratitude for all the help that the Amar family and Bayax in general gave me during my two months there. Despite my last name changing to Diop in Dakar, I will always be an Amar in Bayax.
The morning of the family party, however, we had serious business to attend to: the language exam. In Peace Corps, their testing of the language is purely functional meaning that they don't care about grammar or the richness of your vocabulary. They care only about how well you can understand what is said to you and how well you can express your own needs and ideas. The test consists solely of a conversation, typically 15-25 minutes, in the target language. The tester will chat, ask questions, and give a scenario of varying complexity depending on how well your know the language. Trainees need to achieve a certain level of mastery in order to swear in, so there's a fair amount of pressure on that one conversation. Luckily, I achieved that level and then some.
After our language exam, we went to Popenguine which is possibly the finest beach town in Senegal. The conditions, by American standards, rough. 2 houses for 55 people. By our Senegalese standards, though, it was a paradise. The water and electricity worked (most of the time), there was good food nearby at a variety of price levels, and there were spectacular views to be viewed. I'll give you a couple examples of some pictures that one of my colleagues took here: Picture 1 and Picture 2. There was also a fancy restaurant right next door to my house that I went to with a few of the training staff our second night there. It was fairly expensive by Senegalese standards, but it was well worth the price as it was as good as any meal I've gotten at a restaurant regardless of the country. After 2 days and 2 nights in Popenguine, it was time to head back to Thies and then Dakar the next day for swearing-in.
The ceremony itself was well done and concise. The country director of Peace Corps spoke a little, then the US Ambassador, then a Senegalese dignitary, then a few trainees in 4 separate local languages. It could have easily been a several hour affair, but we were done within 2. Afterwards, there was a reception at the Ambassador's residence which was fancy to say the least. We, the trainees, stuffed ourselves together one last time and we all went back to Thies for final preparations and departure for sites. All except for me who stayed behind in Dakar and was driven to the Peace Corps house to wait until Tuesday for the install team to arrive.
Since Friday evening, I've been left to fend for myself in Dakar. So far, it's been an experience filled with lots of defeats and minor victories. On Saturday (yesterday), I spent all day looking for the bank. After several hours and 3 separate tries, I found a bank that I could use (not the one I was looking for) and was able to withdraw enough money to get me through the next few weeks. Even though it took me all day to do a fairly normal activity, I still considered the day a success for 2 reasons. First, I found a bank and did what I needed to do. Second, I was able to find my way home despite getting completely lost on my first try. I took a wrong turn and was in a completely unknown area, but I was able to use a variety of clues to figure it out, find a landmark I knew, and find my way home. This was all repeated again today when I wanted to go to Ebbets Field to play ultimate frisbee with a group of Americans who have weekly games over there. I was with a fellow PCV from Thies, so we took a taxi there which cost 750 each. On the way back, though, she had to go back to Thies, so I was left on my own to get home and I challenged myself to do it without taking a taxi. I walked for a bit, keeping in mind what direction I was going and in which direction my destination was. Eventually, I found a large road with buses on it that were going in a good direction, so I hopped on one. I paid for the ride and began looking for clues. Where did people tell the ticket taker they were going? What streets and landmarks are we passing? What direction are we going in? I eventually concluded that we must be passing by the area that the Peace Corps National Office is located in and I know how to get to the regional house from the office. Sure enough, we passed by the office, so I got out, got on another bus, and arrived home shortly afterwards. It wasn't the most efficient route, but I got home safely without taking a taxi. All and all, even with an elongated route, the bus route was a third of what a taxi would have costed. These are the things that a Dakar volunteer has to do. I'm on a salary of less than $500 per month in a big city. I can't afford to take taxis unless I have 1 or 2 people to split the cost with, even then, only occasionally. I can't afford to eat lunch at the restaurant that seems more comfortable and familiar to me at around $3 per plate. I have to eat where the locals eat in the tin shack with a tarp roof that's just two ladies selling bowls of rice and fish (basically the national dish) for $1 a pop or with my family, of course. I've gotten so used to this country, though, (the good and bad parts of it) that I would go to the tin shack even if I had the money. There's just so much more personality there. Also, the food's better. Overall, the theme here is that I can't be afraid. I can't be afraid to get lost because it will happen anyway. I can't be afraid to try new things, even if they don't look like I think they should, because I can't afford not to. I can't be afraid to stare down a city of 2 million people in a foreign country in (mostly) a language I started learning 2 months ago and take it on because that's my job now.
Well, this turned into a very long post, so congrats to the two of you who made it all the way down here. Fortunately, there's still more to come about my triumphs and defeats in my attempt to learn and conquer Dakar, so stay tuned. Thank you for reading!
I passed my final language exam, went to the beach, attended the swearing-in ceremony and am now sitting in the regional house in Dakar waiting to move into my family on Tuesday, the 13th. There's quite a lot to reflect on, so let me pick up where I left off in my last post.
We said good-bye to our host families and host towns almost a week ago now. We had a party in Thies to celebrate their commitment and our making it through the homestay. My good-bye, like most others I've had, was a fairly anti-climactic one. There was no exchanging of large gifts or displays of affection. However, I do have a profound gratitude for all the help that the Amar family and Bayax in general gave me during my two months there. Despite my last name changing to Diop in Dakar, I will always be an Amar in Bayax.
The morning of the family party, however, we had serious business to attend to: the language exam. In Peace Corps, their testing of the language is purely functional meaning that they don't care about grammar or the richness of your vocabulary. They care only about how well you can understand what is said to you and how well you can express your own needs and ideas. The test consists solely of a conversation, typically 15-25 minutes, in the target language. The tester will chat, ask questions, and give a scenario of varying complexity depending on how well your know the language. Trainees need to achieve a certain level of mastery in order to swear in, so there's a fair amount of pressure on that one conversation. Luckily, I achieved that level and then some.
After our language exam, we went to Popenguine which is possibly the finest beach town in Senegal. The conditions, by American standards, rough. 2 houses for 55 people. By our Senegalese standards, though, it was a paradise. The water and electricity worked (most of the time), there was good food nearby at a variety of price levels, and there were spectacular views to be viewed. I'll give you a couple examples of some pictures that one of my colleagues took here: Picture 1 and Picture 2. There was also a fancy restaurant right next door to my house that I went to with a few of the training staff our second night there. It was fairly expensive by Senegalese standards, but it was well worth the price as it was as good as any meal I've gotten at a restaurant regardless of the country. After 2 days and 2 nights in Popenguine, it was time to head back to Thies and then Dakar the next day for swearing-in.
The ceremony itself was well done and concise. The country director of Peace Corps spoke a little, then the US Ambassador, then a Senegalese dignitary, then a few trainees in 4 separate local languages. It could have easily been a several hour affair, but we were done within 2. Afterwards, there was a reception at the Ambassador's residence which was fancy to say the least. We, the trainees, stuffed ourselves together one last time and we all went back to Thies for final preparations and departure for sites. All except for me who stayed behind in Dakar and was driven to the Peace Corps house to wait until Tuesday for the install team to arrive.
Since Friday evening, I've been left to fend for myself in Dakar. So far, it's been an experience filled with lots of defeats and minor victories. On Saturday (yesterday), I spent all day looking for the bank. After several hours and 3 separate tries, I found a bank that I could use (not the one I was looking for) and was able to withdraw enough money to get me through the next few weeks. Even though it took me all day to do a fairly normal activity, I still considered the day a success for 2 reasons. First, I found a bank and did what I needed to do. Second, I was able to find my way home despite getting completely lost on my first try. I took a wrong turn and was in a completely unknown area, but I was able to use a variety of clues to figure it out, find a landmark I knew, and find my way home. This was all repeated again today when I wanted to go to Ebbets Field to play ultimate frisbee with a group of Americans who have weekly games over there. I was with a fellow PCV from Thies, so we took a taxi there which cost 750 each. On the way back, though, she had to go back to Thies, so I was left on my own to get home and I challenged myself to do it without taking a taxi. I walked for a bit, keeping in mind what direction I was going and in which direction my destination was. Eventually, I found a large road with buses on it that were going in a good direction, so I hopped on one. I paid for the ride and began looking for clues. Where did people tell the ticket taker they were going? What streets and landmarks are we passing? What direction are we going in? I eventually concluded that we must be passing by the area that the Peace Corps National Office is located in and I know how to get to the regional house from the office. Sure enough, we passed by the office, so I got out, got on another bus, and arrived home shortly afterwards. It wasn't the most efficient route, but I got home safely without taking a taxi. All and all, even with an elongated route, the bus route was a third of what a taxi would have costed. These are the things that a Dakar volunteer has to do. I'm on a salary of less than $500 per month in a big city. I can't afford to take taxis unless I have 1 or 2 people to split the cost with, even then, only occasionally. I can't afford to eat lunch at the restaurant that seems more comfortable and familiar to me at around $3 per plate. I have to eat where the locals eat in the tin shack with a tarp roof that's just two ladies selling bowls of rice and fish (basically the national dish) for $1 a pop or with my family, of course. I've gotten so used to this country, though, (the good and bad parts of it) that I would go to the tin shack even if I had the money. There's just so much more personality there. Also, the food's better. Overall, the theme here is that I can't be afraid. I can't be afraid to get lost because it will happen anyway. I can't be afraid to try new things, even if they don't look like I think they should, because I can't afford not to. I can't be afraid to stare down a city of 2 million people in a foreign country in (mostly) a language I started learning 2 months ago and take it on because that's my job now.
Well, this turned into a very long post, so congrats to the two of you who made it all the way down here. Fortunately, there's still more to come about my triumphs and defeats in my attempt to learn and conquer Dakar, so stay tuned. Thank you for reading!
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