As our white Toyota 4X4 traveled down the red clay road I tried hard to process everything before me and everything behind me. I had just spent the previous nine months being uncomfortably coddled, much like a baby that was never allowed sleep. All decisions were made for us: travel plans, languages we would learn, our future permanent site, vaccinations (lots and lots of vaccinations), breakfast. Pre-Service Training (PST), aka nine weeks living out of of suitcase, prepared me for this day, in that it made me never want to go through PST again. PST (I'll flesh PST out in a future update), was not hell, but it was hard and made me fantasize about the day I would no longer live in a room with seven other men, a room made unpleasant by certain odors that result from eight men in a room in Sub-Saharan Africa. With PST behind me, a life I had only lived for two months felt further and further behind me with each rotation of our knobby tires.
In front of me was the the life I would live for the next two years, a life I had anticipated since I started my Peace Corps application in April of 2010. As our driver "Boubou" flew down the dirt road to my new home, each bump prodded at my nerves. I knew that as we passed the town of Touba we were mere minutes from Safalou 1, the town which had requested and was granted a new Sustainable Agriculture volunteer, a volunteer for whom they had many questions and many expectations. Having never been to Safalou, Boubou naturally missed the turn due to the hidden position of the town. This was nothing a quick reversal couldn't fix, and with our ever so slight detour rectified Boubou turned right and maneuvered our land cruiser over the severely eroded drive into my new home.
Few times in my life have I been vehicularly escorted to a destination. Never in my life had I been Equestrinally escorted to my destination. That was until out of the bush came two boys on horses came to lead the procession into town. My reception was shrouded in uncertainty due to certain decisions made earlier that morning. Decision that stemmed from an itinerary that made no sense and seemed designed to waste time. With a few adjustment, our course was significantly altered and I would now be installed first instead of last. This was a minor inconvenience, one I expected to burden my new village more than me. Fortunately, though, they were made aware of my new ETA and planned accordingly. As the boys galloped toward town, a mob of women and children quickly formed at the first compound.
Immediately our car was surrounded. Women and children greeted our car with drums and dancing. My arrival took on a life of its own. I felt truly welcomed and at easy knowing my new community knew how to cut loose. I followed closely as we made our way to the village chiefs compound. Yousapha, a Senegalese ag expert, gentle giant, and man deserving an entire post to himself, greeted the crowd for me. Through a translator he described my role as work partner and community member. I was here to work with them; a teacher and student who would eat what they ate and live how they lived. In one fell swoop my party accompanied me in, experienced my reception and departed before I could fully grasp what had just happened. Remembering what other Peace Corps volunteers had described as a memorable sight in their service, I hurried from my hut just in time to watch the white Peace Corps Land Cruiser roll out of my village. In like a lion out like a lamb. In a matter minutes the dancing subsided the drummers went back out to the fields and I sat in my hut, my new home, wondering what to do next.
On November 10th 2011, over one and half years after I started my Peace Corps application, I finally became an official volunteer. Well, technically I was sworn in as a volunteer on November 5th, but dressing in traditional Senegalese attire and shaking the U.S. Ambassadors hand in his house after taking the oath of foreign service does not make you any more of volunteer than the previous weeks of training did. I was glad to finally earn the title of volunteer but I knew that the hardest part was ahead of me. Sitting in my hut that first day gave me my first real taste of the life of a volunteer. The umbilical cord was finally severed and I felt more professional. At times I look back longingly to the structured days at the training site or the lack of expectations my family had at my first home stay in Mbour. But I'm glad that from this point on I am the master of my own destiny. It will be my choices that define the success of my service. Instillation, while crucial, was only the beginning. I have many more challenges ahead, ones that will test my patience and resolve. But no matter how difficult projects become I know that my first step out of my hut and into my new life on the day of my installation will never be matched.
In front of me was the the life I would live for the next two years, a life I had anticipated since I started my Peace Corps application in April of 2010. As our driver "Boubou" flew down the dirt road to my new home, each bump prodded at my nerves. I knew that as we passed the town of Touba we were mere minutes from Safalou 1, the town which had requested and was granted a new Sustainable Agriculture volunteer, a volunteer for whom they had many questions and many expectations. Having never been to Safalou, Boubou naturally missed the turn due to the hidden position of the town. This was nothing a quick reversal couldn't fix, and with our ever so slight detour rectified Boubou turned right and maneuvered our land cruiser over the severely eroded drive into my new home.
Few times in my life have I been vehicularly escorted to a destination. Never in my life had I been Equestrinally escorted to my destination. That was until out of the bush came two boys on horses came to lead the procession into town. My reception was shrouded in uncertainty due to certain decisions made earlier that morning. Decision that stemmed from an itinerary that made no sense and seemed designed to waste time. With a few adjustment, our course was significantly altered and I would now be installed first instead of last. This was a minor inconvenience, one I expected to burden my new village more than me. Fortunately, though, they were made aware of my new ETA and planned accordingly. As the boys galloped toward town, a mob of women and children quickly formed at the first compound.
Immediately our car was surrounded. Women and children greeted our car with drums and dancing. My arrival took on a life of its own. I felt truly welcomed and at easy knowing my new community knew how to cut loose. I followed closely as we made our way to the village chiefs compound. Yousapha, a Senegalese ag expert, gentle giant, and man deserving an entire post to himself, greeted the crowd for me. Through a translator he described my role as work partner and community member. I was here to work with them; a teacher and student who would eat what they ate and live how they lived. In one fell swoop my party accompanied me in, experienced my reception and departed before I could fully grasp what had just happened. Remembering what other Peace Corps volunteers had described as a memorable sight in their service, I hurried from my hut just in time to watch the white Peace Corps Land Cruiser roll out of my village. In like a lion out like a lamb. In a matter minutes the dancing subsided the drummers went back out to the fields and I sat in my hut, my new home, wondering what to do next.
On November 10th 2011, over one and half years after I started my Peace Corps application, I finally became an official volunteer. Well, technically I was sworn in as a volunteer on November 5th, but dressing in traditional Senegalese attire and shaking the U.S. Ambassadors hand in his house after taking the oath of foreign service does not make you any more of volunteer than the previous weeks of training did. I was glad to finally earn the title of volunteer but I knew that the hardest part was ahead of me. Sitting in my hut that first day gave me my first real taste of the life of a volunteer. The umbilical cord was finally severed and I felt more professional. At times I look back longingly to the structured days at the training site or the lack of expectations my family had at my first home stay in Mbour. But I'm glad that from this point on I am the master of my own destiny. It will be my choices that define the success of my service. Instillation, while crucial, was only the beginning. I have many more challenges ahead, ones that will test my patience and resolve. But no matter how difficult projects become I know that my first step out of my hut and into my new life on the day of my installation will never be matched.
What fine writing, Andy! I am proud to know you, and equally happy that you come from a large farming family. Your experience here at home will be invaluable in Senegal and your observation and participation in farming will stand you in good stead as you travel through whatever meets you on your journey. Your ability to problem-solve will be put to the test many times, and I'm sure you will adapt what you know to what is presented in your village. Keep us posted on your work and adventures; I am sending many good wishes your way...
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