Acclimating, Bës bu Nekk

Hello again! While I had every intention to post more frequently about life ci Sénégal this past month, I guess that exact life got in the way. And what a month! It’s been an honestly insane 5+ weeks here at pre-service training — in ways good, not-so-good, and everywhere in between — and condensing them down is no small task. Because quite simply, what we as PCT’s are seeing, hearing, tasting, and experiencing bës bu nekk (every day) is so outside the norm of our lives ci Amerik. So while I could fill pages and pages describing so many of those things, here’s my best attempt at synopsis.

For me, there have been two overarching (and overlapping) themes these weeks: acclimation and resilience-building. In all transparency, it’s been kind of a grind. We’ve been worked hard — with almost no true off / rest days — all across our trainings, from language to technical (ag/environment practicums) to intercultural to medical to our community-based training (CBT) homestays.

Whew, it’s been a lot to process. And draped over all of that, like a soggy comforter, is… you guessed it… the heat. Though we’ve ostensibly reached the end of the region’s most hot/humid season, it persists stubbornly, the days baking hot, the nights soupy and just tolerable. Personally, out of the many things we must acclimate to — diet, dress, language, work, etc. — climate has been by far the hardest. To me, the extreme heat has a wider and deeper-reaching impact than the rest of those factors. It roots its way in to your body, making everything just that much harder: working in the fields, sleeping, exercising, learning, focusing, motivating, language practice, heck even writing blogs! I won’t lie and say it doesn’t fill me with a bit of dread spending two years immersed in the world’s third-hottest country.

So already, I’m learning to approach each day with what I almost think of as an “athlete mentality.” In order to perform consistently under trying conditions and demands, athletes are among the best at stripping away extraneous things, focusing only on what mentally and physically matters. What we’re doing here isn’t too different. All throughout the day, I’m asking questions of myself: Am I constantly hydrating? Is my water filter filled? How’s my nutrition? Enough protein and fruits/veggies or mainly carbs? Did I take my malaria meds on time? Am I exercising enough but not overexerting in these conditions? How are my energy levels fluctuating? Am I physically good but not mentally today? Have I checked in with my support network recently? And so on and so on…

It’s a constant homeostatic process, one I certainly do in the U.S. also, but which is just so sharpened, intensified, and plain tiring here. Or in other words, staying holistically well really is an athletic achievement. But many of us have already hit hurdles, including myself. I had a scare just this week — a minor heat exhaustion episode causing me to return to Thiès a day early from my homestay. Fortunately, I’m doing much better (as of this writing, 11/4), but it was humbling and a bit scary nonetheless.

So given the myriad challenges, I’m also trying to approach each day as an adventure — the “adventure mentality.” Framing every day as its own mini journey — peaks, valleys, memories, boredom, funny moments, reflective ones — is really helpful at keeping me present. It’s too easy to get sucked up in future-anxiety as a PC volunteer, as if it’s possible to map out or control our next two years.

Where will I live? Will I fit into my host community? Will I feel accepted by my host family? Will I have too much work or not enough? Will the daily struggle in this climate be worth it? How low will be the “lows” and how high the “highs”? Am I physically, mentally, emotionally able to do this??

The future begs nearly as many questions as the day-to-day. So the old cliché really does wonders here: “one day at a time, one week at a time, one month at a time”

And in light of current events, it feels even more relevant. It’s been really hard for me not to get sucked into my newsfeeds, and out of the present moment, given the tragedies in the Middle East. If you know me, you probably know my stance on this, so I won’t discuss it personally here, beyond advocating for a ceasefire. But thinking about the real risks of escalation — nuclear or otherwise — is frightening. And it adds a layer of homesickness I’ve felt on and off, a strong pull for the relative safety and comfort of home when the whole world seems to be spiraling further and further into this age of climate chaos, conflict, resource shortage, and destabilization.

In a way, it puts a lot in perspective, too. I — and I’m sure all of us — want to do the best possible work here as PCVs in Senegal. But we need to know our limits, and feel right in how we’re testing them. “I Got Me” is one of the core group guidelines our cohort came up with back in D.C, meaning that in order to be of service to others, we must inherently take care of ourselves first. Senegal is demanding, the world circa 2023 is very demanding, and within or without the context of Peace Corps, there is so much to be done. All of which puts me, for lack of a better word… at peace with whatever does or does not happen during my service.

Additionally, these weeks of acclimating and resilience-building have reminded me of the great privilege it is to be here, having this experience and doing this work. The gift of mobility, travel, volunteering, trying new things in new places with new people, is not one many people on the planet have. There are many layers to the power dynamics at play between Peace Corps volunteers and their host countries/communities. It’s a deep topic, and in the interest of time and length of this blog, one to explore more in the future. But as just one anecdote: I’ve already had several conversations with members of my CBT host community where the central theme is “America great, Senegal bad” and/or “English great, Wolof bad.”

It’s a tough thing to hear, and how do I adequately respond? When they all express serious desires to go to America in hopes of better opportunity, and here I am voluntarily leaving America to make very little money in their communities, what does that say about my baked-in privilege? Or given that I’m able to hit the “eject seat” button at any moment, and within days be whisked back to — in their eyes — that land of opportunity? How can they possibly comprehend my place here?

It’s another cliché to say “it’s so complicated” — but man, it’s so damn complicated. I don’t, and may never, have the Wolof skills to have a truly nuanced conversation about issues like these. But I’ll certainly try. Which is yet another reminder that what we’re doing here isn’t easy; though I know that the best lessons in life are often some of the toughest.

But like I said in the first blog, Gaal Trois is going through this together. Through all the ups and downs, we’ve found ways to have a lot of fun. A major highlight recently was a Halloween costume party where we paired up and dressed as iconic duos (I was “diarrhea” (i.e. watery stool) and Elley was “constipation”). We also had a cultural session focused on Senegalese wrestling, in which we and our language + culture teachers built a ring, learned the traditions, and threw down for a couple hours. I loved it, and it was especially cool after experiencing a live wrestling match during my study abroad program.

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And of course there were the CBT homestays themselves, which have taken up the majority of these weeks. We’ve had three separate stays in host communities surrounding Thiès: 10/5-9; 10/14-22; and 10/28-11/5. Again, due to being pressed for writing time, I plan to dive deeper into my CBT experiences following our final stay (a quicker 4 days from 11/24-27), but here’s the quick overview. (Note: in blogs/social media, we’re asked not to disclose specific village or family names for safety + security reasons.)

I’ve been living in a small community about 45 minutes east of Thiès, with a welcoming and kind host family. As is typical of many Senegalese families, mine is quite large, and is non-nuclear — meaning it’s composed of several branches/generations of the family all living together. Only two of my family members speak French conversationally, the rest solely speaking Wolof. As I expected, memorizing names has been ~challenging~ to say the least. It’s not one of my strong suits and on any given day there are 15-20 people in the house (case in point: an entire page of my notebook is filled with names and the many intertwined relationships).

But overall, things have gone well language, integration, and culture-wise — more to come as I said, though. For now, a couple photo and video highlights from the community. Clockwise, in order (click to enlarge): prepping our vegetable nursery; my cat friend sleeping next to my bedroom door; I stepped in and played some footy with the local kids; watching Senegal play Cameroon in a friendly with my family; sipping ataaya during Wolof class; teaching our Wolof jangalekat yi (teachers) some important American vocab

And finally… a quick look ahead. Tomorrow (Mon. 11/6) is a big day, as we’ll be finding out our permanent sites! It’s honestly snuck up very fast on us, so while I’m excited, it doesn’t totally feel real. If you’d like updates, text me on WhatsApp though! Then on Saturday, we head to Field Orientation Training (FOT) for a week — in our future communities and with our future host families. So that’s pretty crazy too! Following that, we have three final weeks of mixed training in and around Thiès before, hopefully, all of us are able to officially swear-in as PCVs on December 8th.

Ok whew, your turn, did you process all of that?!

My weekly-ish updates may be out the window for now, but I’ll do my best to get another one out within the month. Until then, the acclimation continues bës bu nekk — oh, and please send all your good vibes for cooler weather 🙂

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Song / Podcast Recs

My song recommendation this time around is from a different genre: jazz. The song is Liquid Streets by Roy Hargrove. Visualize yourself half-asleep in your 90-degree host fam bedroom in your underwear, encased by a mosquito net, hallucinating that you’re in an early-2000s NYC jazz club, and you’ll get why I love it.

I also realized I haven’t mentioned a podcast that I was featured on. My good friend Nat invited me to be on her podcast “Lots of Love” in September to discuss all things Peace Corps. We had a fun and interesting convo, and it gives a good overview of my thoughts/expectations pre-departure. This link will take you to the episode on Apple Podcasts, or you can search on any platform.