Hut Life

I have an identity crisis. I am no longer the person I was when I came to Senegal. Not that I have actually changed that much, in fact I like to think I have changed very little in these first four months. Aside from some unavoidable physical changes and cultural conformity that has aided my assimilation into my Senegalese life, I am still the same son I was in the airport when I hugged my parents the last time for two years (pending visits); I'm still the same friend who lit my final bonfire at my going away party back in August (pending me visiting); I'm still the same guy who enjoys a cold drink and a freshly made pair of jean sorts (this is very much not pending and has only intensified).  No, my identity change is in the way I am viewed and the life I live in my village.  In village I am Mohamadu Sylla, a 23 year old American who came to Senegal to learn Jaxanke (my language), and give gifts.  I try each day to become the professional I want people to perceive me as.  Greet the people, talk about work, do work, try not to go insane.  This is my life. Give advice: "don't burn your fields", "compost your waste", "Learning is good". This is my life. The separation between my "Western" life I left in America and briefly experience when I am with other volunteers and my "hut life" can at time be very stressful. Explaining America to a teenager who has never left his village is down right impossible. The difference between "studying" and "reading for fun" is a concept not well understood in village. I may not have changed much, but I have created a new persona. To better understand my new identity I have added some photos of my life in Senegal.  While a true representation is in the subtleties of my everyday events and interactions, these things are unfortunately not easily explained. I hope these pictures and captions adequately show the evolution of my new identity.

    "My Hut"

This is my hut, not too shabby I must say.  The metallic cylinder in the bottom left corner is my water filter.  Screen doors and bed nets help reduce the presence of mosquitoes, though Malaria is hardly unavoidable...

   "Safalou 1"

This is a view of my village, Safalou 1, from my backyard.  With a population of about 500 Safalou is a medium size village.  My town has a Koranic school, Boutique, bread maker, and Mosque. We have no running water( I pull water from a well every morning and every night), no electricity, and no sewage system.

"Compost"

The building block of healthy soil, compost is crucial to my garden here in Senegal. Layers of corn stalks, peanut stalks, wood ash and donkey poop have decomposed into a homogeneous pile of black gold.

 "My Bathroom"

May not look like much but it gets the job done.  I have exchanged hot running water, a toilet, toilet paper and a sink for night bucket baths under the milky way.  I know now that just because something is inconvenient does not mean it is worse.  

 "Counterpart"

This is my counterpart Djellano Sylla.  He is the town handy man, with his latest creation being my brand new bed.  I follow him to his garden and study his techniques.  What he lacks in tools and space, he more than makes up for in creativity and elbow grease. 

"Words"

I find most of my free time reading or listening to music. I use my hut as a portal back into "Western life".  Whether I am reading a tech manual, or listening to The Black Keys, this is a time of complete understanding, a direct contrast to the rest of my day spent spent speaking broken Jaxanke and trying to grasp my new life.