I can’t say that I wasn’t warned.  Just about every returned volunteer I spoke with before leaving for Senegal told me that the months between Pre-Service Training and In-Service Training would be the hardest.  During the first three months my main goal is to settle-in, learn the language, and integrate into my new community.  And try not to go stir crazy…

It is only week two and I may going a little insane.  There is certainly not a lack of things to do… I need to continue practicing and learning Pular. My huts need to be cleaned and filled with furniture.  I need to plant a garden in my backyard.  I need to spend more time getting to know my new family.

But even with all the huge tasks lying in front of me, I have a lot of spare time to sit around and think.  Think about life in America.  Think about what I would be doing now if I was back home.  Think about the food.  Think about how much I miss my friends and being a part of their lives.  Think about how much I would like to take Ramsey for a walk along Lake Union. Think about how “easy” life was in America and how “hard” life is here.

But that’s the thing… life wasn’t “easy” in America.  I was constantly worried about student loan payments, finding a good job, getting into graduate school, and a million other small and big things.  Sure America has tasty food and toilets, but I am fooling myself if I think that life there is “easy”.

And life here is Senegal isn’t necessarily “hard”.  Sure my standard of living is lower, and it is damn hot.  But the constant worrying and pressure that I felt in America is gone here.  I do face struggles here every day just trying to live a “normal”  life.  Adapting to the culture.  Trying to stay healthy.  Trying to find a way to express myself in a language I can barely speak…

I know that these next couple of months are going to be long, hard, difficult and humbling.  But they are going to allow me to become a great volunteer capable of doing good work in my time here.  And perhaps more importantly, they are going to make me better person.  Hopefully the kind of person who will be ready—two years from now—to tackle student loans, a grown-up job, and grad school…

I’m not quite sure how to summarize everything that has occurred over the past couple of days, so I think I will just write some fleeting observations and first impressions of my new life as a full fledged Peace Corps Volunteer in Kedougou.

The ride down here is long, dusty and dirty.  I will never take the air-conditioned Peace Corps cars for granted ever again…

The Peace Corps Regional House in Kedougou is getting electricity.  Next step wifi?

My new home is pretty sweet.  I have two huts, once for sleeping the other for opening Senegal’s first Starbucks franchise.  Details to be hashed out at a later date…

My new family is awesome.  They don’t call me “toubab” instead they refer to me as “the new volunteer”.

We have a pet monkey.  He hangs out in a tree by my window.   

My monthly living allowance is less than 250 USD.

My new name is “Rokhaya”.  I really like my new name.  It is a somewhat unique name, which I appreciate in a country where it seems like the same 40 names are used over and over again.

I have been really sick for the past couple of days.  But making myself chicken noodle soup with chicken bullion cubes from a care package was a big boost to my moral.

I bought a fan.  It changed everything. Enough said.

As most of you know, the first couple of months I spent here in Senegal I have been a “Peace Corps Trainee” (aka PCT).  I have been studying a local language, observing and learning about Senegalese culture, my stomach has been adjusting to Senegalese food, and I have been doing all this knowing that once training is over, I will become a full-fledged “Peace Corps Volunteer” (aka PCV). 

After a somewhat nerve-wracking final language proficiency exam (in which I proved that, yes—I can speak pullafuuta at an intermediate-mid level), I showered and donned my best Senegalese-style chonci (clothes) and boarded the Peace Corps bus for Dakar. 

In Dakar, I along with my fellow trainees, filed into the American ambassador’s house (which btw probably has the nicest bathrooms in all of Senegal—just saying).  We were joined by dignitaries from Korea and Japan (they have programs similar to Peace Corps), various Senegalese government officials, and of course the American Ambassador  to Senegal and the Peace Corps Senegal Country Director.   There were a bunch of speeches.  A couple given by my fellow trainees in the various local languages. 

Then, the moment we had all been waiting for, the ambassador asked us to stand and to repeat the oath.  Now, I’m not sure exactly what kind of oath I was expecting to take… probably something along the lines of “I promise to help the people of Senegal help themselves and to work hard and be a good American for two years. Hakunah Matatah. Kumbaya. Peace out.”  Instead, I took an oath to “Protect and defend the Constitution of the United States from all enemies foreign and domestic, so help me God.” Wait… What? Seriously?

Before I knew what had happened, I had swore it, so I guess that means I have yet another responsibility for the next two years.  Anyone have any idea how I am supposed to protect and defend the constitution?  Not sure what kind of enemies the American Constitution has in Senegal but I guess I will need to be on the look out.

Once the ceremony had ended, the was a reception with amazing American-style food.  The volunteers (yes, we are now no longer trainees) crowded the buffet tables and there was a little scuffle when mini-hamburgers were brought out.  We ate and socialized then boarded the Peace Corps bus for the “American Club” in Dakar where we ate, drank, socialized and swam in the pool.  All-in-all, it was a really big day.  It marks the beginning of the rest of  my Peace Corps adventure.  Watch out Senegal, I am now a full-fledged Peace Corps Volunteer, nothing can stop me now!

(Photo Courtesy of Carla Burns—Thanks Carla!)

To my Dad, who completely surprised me with a great package containing—among other things—crystal light infused with vitamins (which I didn’t know even existed), m&ms and chicken bouillon cubes for making chicken noodle soup next time I get giardia.  Simply amazing.

Also, to Brenda and Greg from Stevenson’s hardware store.  They donated seeds for my personal garden in Kedougou.  Your generosity was overwhelming.  I will keep you updated with photos when the seeds are planted.

Finally to my Mom.  I must admit, when I left for the Peace Corps I didn’t think that you were the “care package” type of mother.  You have proved me wrong.  Week after week packages keep arriving from you, each filled with amazing contents from America.  Captain Crunch, Peanut Butter, Honey, Chocolate, Benadryl, US magazine, the list goes on and on…  I don’t know how you know exactly what I need but you manage to get it to me all the way in Africa. 

To you all.  My thanks and my love.

Also, please forgive me if my blog lately has become boring lately.  I promise, more updates coming soon….

Just when I had finally adjusted to life in Africa.  To the sand.  To the heat.  To the bathrooms (err lack-there-of).  To the food.  Peace Corps took us on a field trip to Dakar.  Then everything changed…

I have been hearing from current volunteers about how amazing Dakar is, but I didn’t believe them.  My initial impressions of Dakar during the car ride from the airport, were that the city was dirty, crowded and nothing impressive.

I’m not sure if a couple months living in a Senegalese village changed me, or if maybe I was just too jet lagged to notice the first time, but Dakar is AMAZING.  I could have closed my eyes and been in any Eastern European capital city.  Dakar has sidewalks, restaurants, swimming pools nice cars, beautiful houses, big grocery stores with shopping carts, and most importantly—air conditioning.  Going to Dakar was like going to Disneyland. Peace Corps took us on a tour of their offices in Dakar, then a quick driving tour through the city.  Then we went out to lunch at various restaurants around the city.  I went with a group to an Italian restaurant, and I had a calzone.  With pepperoni.  A real treat in a muslim country.

Anything and everything you could possibly want, you can get in Dakar—for  a price.  That is the one caveat.  As a Peace Corps volunteer, I can’t really afford to live the high life in Dakar. I cannot afford 14 dollar cocktails and 8 dollar boxes of corn flakes when my monthly salary is less than 300 dollars… But it is nice to know that Dakar is there.  Sure it may be a 14 hour car ride away from Kedougou.  But it is there.  Just in case.

Pular.  It is difficult.

For the the past two months the majority of my time has been consumed learning Pulafuuta.  Considering my mastery of this language is going to be playing a major role in my life for the next couple of years, I thought I would write some information and observations about the language.  Especially since most of you have probably never even heard of Pular… Some observations are informative.  Others just amusing… Enjoy.

Pulafuuta is a regional variety of Pular/Fulfulde spoken in southern Senegal.  Pular/Fulfulde is spoken by 13-15 million people in West Africa. 

According to Wikipedia, Pular/Fulfulde is an official language in Niger, Nigeria and a National Language in   Guinea, Mali, Mauritania, Senegal. There are also Pular speaking communities in Benin, Burkina Faso, Cameroon, Central African republic, Chad, Gambia, Guinea-Bissau and Sierra Leone. 

As a fellow Volunteer put it, the Pulars are like the Jews of West Africa.  They are a few of them everywhere, but they aren’t really a majority anywhere.  And everyone seems to hate them—joking—sorta.

The first person singular in Pular is “Mi” (in English it is “I”).  This means that every time I speak about myself, to an English speaker is sounds like I am talking about myself in the third person.  ie: “Mi blah blah blah”.

There are no verb conjugations in Pular (I hated conjugating verbs in French—so this is a welcome relief).

However, there are 24 different articles.  English has one: “the”.  French has three: “la, le, les”.  Chances are I will never learn how to properly say “the” in this language.

Verbs in Pular are very specific.  For example the verb “doomugol” means “to go to a person’s house around dinner time in order to mooch a meal.”  Seriously.

Things that essentially sound the same to an English speaker can mean two very different things.  For example, “Hanki, mi tutii lekki” means “yesterday, I planted a tree” however “Hanki, mi tuutii lekki” means  “yesterday, I vomited medicine.”

The verb “whoppugol” means “to do laundry”.  “Mi whoppi” translates as “I did laundry”.  Sometimes I wash my clothes just so I can walk around the rest of the day saying “mi whoppi”.  Cracks me up.