It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I imagine a lot of volunteers would use that famous phrase to describe their experience. Maybe it's the malaria medication, but highs feel so much higher here and lows so much lower. I suppose it's the isolation of it all. When I got assigned to Dakar, I thought that meant that I would be working closely with staff and other volunteers. I assumed that I'd see someone from Peace Corps on most days. In reality, there are weeks, WEEKS, where I interact with only my host country and work partners. I try to set time aside to talk to my folks at home every weekend, but that doesn't always work out. Even when it does, it's just not the same. I hear their voice and see a grainy image of their face on my screen. We have a conversation and it's always so refreshing, but it's just not the same as seeing someone in person. In many ways, I am alone out here in this concrete wilderness. That must certainly play a lot into the volatility of emotions out here. When you succeed, there's nobody who you have to share credit with and, when you fail, there's nobody else to blame and nobody else to lean on. The buck begins and ends with you. In many ways, I'm alone, but, in other ways, I'm very well connected here as well. I have internet in my room. The national staff are all about a 45 minute bus ride away. There are several other volunteers living within the city limits should I need them. I have all of these resources at my disposal, but I try not to use them. The more I get used to it being just me in Senegal, the easier it will be to do 2 years here.
On the work side, I've mainly been trying to refocus my priorities since returning from PST2 a month ago. I've stopped working with some people and picked up a couple others. I'm just trying to focus on the areas where my skills and the partner's needs match up best. The two projects that I picked up are both quite a ways away. One is located in Guediawaye and another is in Zac Mbao. Both of those are Google-able if you're interested in seeing where geographically I am. In Guediawaye, there's a group of 7 women who have a lot of time on their hands and a desire to work, but no real idea how to run a business. Currently, I'm taking them through the steps on how to generate and vet business ideas. We've got it down to making cosmetic soap or designing clothes targeted at youth (these women are all fairly young). After we decide, we'll basically do a mini business plan. We'll look at the operations, finances, and marketing and use all of that information to decide if the business is viable. Once the business is up and running, I'll advise them on formalization opportunities, accounting methods, and expansion opportunities. The project in Zac Mbao is with a sole entrepreneur who has recently started a chicken raising business that also does money transfers and sells school supplies/makes copies/scans on the side. Yes, the old chicken coupe/money transfer/copy shop combo. She also wants to manage all of this business activity on one spreadsheet. The problem is each part of the business has nothing to do with the others. She's essentially running three businesses at the same time and called me in to try to make sense of it all. I'm doing my best with her and she's very receptive to the suggestions I've made, but it's a tall order trying to make sense of such a fragmented business model, especially when she's so far away. I'm hoping I can arrange it so that one of the next group of CEDers to come in country is assigned to her.
Nothing else really important worth mentioning.... except Ebola I guess. Yeah, there was the one case here, but it was in the news for a little bit and died out. No other cases, no other precautions that I wasn't already taking. I haven't changed my behavior in the slightest and don't consider myself at risk. There are certainly plenty of times when I fear for my life over here, but it's never because of Ebola.... I guess I should clarify what I mean when I say I fear for my life. Living here in Dakar for a certain period of time, you realize that every time you get in a car, you're punching a lottery ticket. Even as a pedestrian, you're not safe. There are a lot of accidents here. An unacceptable amount. There's a part of you that wonders if it's not a matter of if, but when you're involved in one. When the bus driver goes a particularly ridiculous speed down a residential road, I pray a kid doesn't jump out. When we hop up on the curve to avoid massive potholes or lakes of raw sewage (both very common), I pray we don't get off balance and tip over. Those are really the only times when I fear for my life. When I put my fate in the hands of Senegalese drivers. Because I'm aware of the danger, though, I'm always aware of my surroundings and what could go wrong. That awareness really is the key even as a passenger. If you lose awareness or focus, the city will take advantage in one way or another. Stay aware, stay present, stay mindful and you can avoid the dangers of big city life.
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