Salaam Aleekum! || Bonjour! || Hello!
Wow. What an absolute whirlwind. I’m writing these words Sunday Sept. 30th — nine days following my departure from Milwaukee, arrival for Peace Corps staging in Washington D.C, and launching off point for this insane life adventure.
I’ve been overusing one word these past nine months, in frequent attempts to sum up how this all feels: surreal. But it truly, truly is. From acceptance in January to the lengthy and intense medical/legal clearances to my last months in Minnesota to the going-aways and good-bye’s and tears shed to moving back home to the chaos of packing/prepping to now… suddenly… being here. Back in Senegal.
It’s like a wild fever dream I’ll soon awake from — and without a doubt this has been the most surreal week of them all. But I’m very grateful to report that things are going well. “Baax na,” as it’s said in Wolof — c’est bon, it’s good. We’re currently at the PC Thiès Training Center (TTC), centrally located in Thiès, Senegal’s 3rd-largest city (about one hour straight east of Dakar). TTC is a large and pretty compound filled with offices, classrooms, long dorm-style buildings, a cafeteria, native flora and fauna, and everyone’s favorite structure — the “Disco Hut”, a big open-air hangout space complete with a disco ball strung up in the center.
But let’s backtrack a little bit. Our training class (called a cohort) of 32 people from all over the country met in-person for the first time on Sept. 22nd, at the D.C. staging event. There we had two fun but info-overloaded days getting to know each other as well as the core missions, theories, and expectations of the Peace Corps. Then on Sunday night, we flew Royal Air Maroc to Casablanca, with a four-hour layover before jetting to Dakar.
Our cohort is triaged into three volunteer positions: Urban Ag (like myself), Rural Ag, and Agroforestry/Environment. We’re nicknamed “Gaal Trois” — in Wolof, gaal means boat or canoe (Senegal is derived from from Sunu Gaal – “our dugout boat”) and we’re just the 3rd cohort to arrive in Senegal following COVID-19 evacuations in 2020.
I love the underlying metaphor: we’re all in this boat together. It’s also weirdly apropos for my life. Currently dangling off the top of the mosquito net on my bed is a “Row the Boat” flag — the now ubiquitous slogan for the University of Minnesota football team that I’ll always feel tied to. And oh, guess what I’ve taught hundreds if not thousands of kids and adults these past few years? Canoeing 🙂 “Paddling together” being a core mission statement of Wilderness Inquiry, the Twin Cities-based non-profit I’ll miss working for. In each of these, a shared sentiment — canoes aren’t paddled alone, just as our individual Peace Corps journeys must be intertwined with the lives of so many others. All of which is to say that three years after my evacuation from Sunu Gaal, returning in Gaal Trois feels more than a little fateful.
This week, I’ve felt transported via memory and déjà vu to several other times of my life, too. Living and training with 31 previous strangers isn’t a cakewalk, but our cohort has been fantastic so far — just a great group of humans. In some ways, it takes me back vividly to dorm life freshman year of college. Then like now, the beginning was an almost out-of-body time of living out such a new place and experience with so many new people. Because despite how overwhelming to the senses all this acclimation has been (see: heat and humidity…..), it’s been fun as hell. In various groups of us, we’ve gone dancing/exploring in D.C, played soccer/hacky sack/games/talked for hours in the Disco Hut, had a jam/singing sesh (putting my new plastic trombone to good use), another dance party, a karaoke night, and shared great meals with each other and our Senegalese staff. In addition, we’ve had several “Survival Wolof” classes and numerous sessions re: health, safety, cultural integration, etc.
Of course, I’m aware these times are fleeting — the summer camp vibes won’t last forever, and before we know it’ll be December, and time to spread out to our permanent sites. But I think that makes me appreciate this training time even more. For now at least, I get to be almost solely a student, learner, a wide-eyed traveler once again: a 17-year-old setting off for three weeks in China; an 18-year-old playing music in Argentina on the heels of his next chapter; a 19-year-old finding complexities in Israel-Palestine; a 20-year-old just settling into Senegal, only to be yanked away. And on and on the cycles go…
Does this mean I expect Peace Corps to be a breeze due to my past experiences? Not whatsoever. Because have there already been numerous moments where I’ve questioned the sense and struggle of it all? Two years in the third-hottest country on Earth (yes, really); of hand washing my own laundry; of physical and sometimes emotional distance from the people I love; of limited dietary variety; of exposure to countless possible medical hurdles; of language barriers, relationship barriers, potential isolation…
Yes. Yes. Yes. Of course there have been. If I wasn’t apprehensive about this, I wouldn’t be human. But I can only see the variety of my past journeys — both domestic and abroad — refracting through and aiding in unexpected ways all along this one.
A few of us had a late-night hammock sesh recently, and came to a comforting realization: these are our people. We’re truly rowing this boat together. It takes a special kind of person to make the sacrifices, leaps of faith, commitments, and changes we all have just by being here. Time will tell if we each see it through to the end, but the TTC Manager put it very well when he told us on our first day: “You should all be very proud of the fact that you’re sitting here. That alone takes courage. And you should not be ashamed if for some reason you can not see it all the way through. That may just mean it’s not your time yet.”
Here’s to hoping it is, and for all those times to come. We’re headed straight into a busy Week #2, with several days at TTC before leaving Thursday for our first of several Community-Based Trainings — stints in local communities and host families with small groups of 2-4 (plus one of our language teachers). Like most things PC, both exciting and nerve-wracking, and giving much more to report soon.
Song / Book Recs
I may make occasional song/book/podcast recommendations, and this week I have two.
First, I’ve been loving the song “Runaway” by Rema. I’ve been listening to a lot of Afrobeats and African R&B this year, and it’s one of my favorites. It’s both upbeat and nostalgic, which is so fitting for this moment in time.
I’ve just started reading “Regenesis” by George Monbiot, but would already recommend it too. He’s an environmental columnist for The Guardian, and the book dives deeply into the fundamental problems and future of agriculture — another timely topic for my PC position.
Jake Marble 