Coming Home

And I don't mean the US, sorry family.

This weekend I opened an email from one of my besties that said: "Hope you are loving being back home (as this is the place I think you feel the most comfortable). "

And that is very true.  "Soyez le bienvenue"  Welcome back!  Upon my arrival back at the Thies Training Center, I was immediately embraced in loving hugs and meaningful grasps of my hands by people I worked with for more than 2 years. I was immediately told to "make myself at home," "fais comme chez toi," and other similar wishes to get comfortable, and ya know what?  It feels great.

Back in beautiful fabrics

That feeling was only magnified this past weekend when I hopped in a car early Saturday morning with two other PCVs to head to my neck of the woods, the Delta, for our dear friend Mary's wedding.  Yes, a real wedding!  Mary lives in Pethie, just 1km from Ndiomdy, so we were close during the overlap of our service and I know her new husband very well.  It was important to be able to make the wedding but I honestly wasn't sure if I would be able to swing it.  Alhumdouliliah I was and it was an incredible day!

A bride with her two American bridesmaids and several Senegalese ones

We stopped at the Kaolack House, greeted by old and new faces, and then 28 of us, dressed in our Senegalese best, climbed in a "bus" bound for Pethie that fellow Djilor PCV Chris had organized.  The excitement of the ride and being back magnified with each kilometer closer to Pethie...familiar landmarks flew by, the Passi market, the Djilor post office, our friend Diegan Sarr outside his family's compound in Djilor, and then Pethie in the distance.  Before installing in Ndiomdy, I spent 10 days shadowing another PCV in Pethie and am thus very familiar with the village.  I directed the "bus" to Mary's compound though with a giant tent next door, it was pretty obvious where the party was going to be.

Mary's mom, mom's friend, and cousins were in from America, plus the bus of us and several PCVs already on site meant that Pethie had never seen this many foreigners at one time.  We greeted the family and I was immediately recognized and welcomed by her village family, which was just the first of many village reunions that day.

Look at that face!

Sitting with Mary and her US family, another PCV signaled for me to come out and guess who was waiting for me?  Seynabou and Ibou!  And Baby James!  Lots of laughter and greetings, and Ibou wouldn't let me go.  It was sooo good to see them!  They told me that the teachers were in town, at the groom's house, so we went there.  My dear friend, Evelyn, started crying when she saw me, "I really believed I would never see you again!  Never!  And you're here!"  She then wouldn't let me go either.  And so it continued the rest of the day as people from the village came through town for the wedding.  Farba too!  My Serere was obviously very rusty, as was recalling some people's names, but I loved that we talked like no time had passed.  To everyone it was only natural that I was back in time for the wedding, I mean, why wouldn't I?  It didn't matter to them whether or not I had another reason to be in Senegal (though they were happy to hear I do), but of course you do what you can to make it to a "family" member's wedding (the way our villages work, Mary is my younger sister though they all also told me "Mary wins because she married a Serere, now it's your turn!").  They all promised to do the same for my wedding :)  

Bridesmaid Steph helping
Mary with makeup

It was so good to see everyone, but I didn't make the trip just for a reunion (which is why I didn't actually go to Ndiomdy), I made the trip to show my love and support for Mary and Malick (well, ok, we know him by his Senegalese nickname, Ass).  It was important to me to be able to help Mary out wherever possible, usually in directing people around Pethie and holding Mary's phone.

Mr and Mrs Loum!

Typical Senegalese Muslim weddings are curious things.  The day is spent in preparation, visiting people and cooking, and since the party is thrown by the groom's family, Mary was remarkably calm as we all sat around chatting and putting henna on our feet.  Eventually the "activities" started: Mary went to a friend's to get ready, processed through the village to greet the groom's family, came to her compound and danced, and then representatives from both families went to the mosque for the ceremony.  Mary stayed in her hut and her groom stayed in his own while they got married, to each other.  Yes, the marriage ceremony happened without either of them present.  Interesting, eh?

After the ceremony, there was a lot of dancing, dancing, eating, dancing, Mary and Malick processed in, more dancing, and oh yea, even more dancing.  (We left at midnight, before "dinner" was served).  Mostly traditional Serere dances, but a little bit of Western wedding dancing was thrown in, including the Macarena!

PCVs joined in on the Serere dancing and it was great to be able to watch old and young, male and female, American and Senegalese, jump into the drum circle and show what they were made of!

In between phases of dancing and after "lunch" (at 8pm), I stood up from the bowl, washed my hands, and heard "Khady Diouf!" in a familiar voice and knew it was my sister Seynabou Senghor!  All of my village sisters were there and enveloped me in a giant group hug.  Ah so good to be back!  In typical Ndiomdy fashion, there were two new babies to meet, a sister happy NOT to be pregnant, dancing, and LOTS of laughter before going to join the dance party in the tent and seeing my village brothers.  Such an amazing reunion day!

Perhaps the best part of the dancing was that a bunch of my village nieces and nephews showed up and we all had a dance party together!  The kids aren't usually allowed out of the compound in the evening, especially out of Ndiomdy, so it was super special that my village sisters let them come to Pethie to see me and party!

The Djilor Crew: Khady, Moustapha, Tening (Mary's counterpart), Mari, Ami, fo Babakar

In addition to seeing the villagers, it was just as good to see my fellow Djilor area PCVs: Mary, Chris, Jack, and my replacement, Morgan.  We had some good times together, with lots of laughs, and I really missed them this past year.  Chris COSed just after the wedding so this is very possibly the last time we will all be together again (but then again, who knows?).


So yea, I'm back in Senegal and while I have a different job in a different town, it feels so right to be here right now.  I will be visiting Ndiomdy soon, Inchallah, to greet everyone and see the progress and continuation of some of my work.  And eat leaf sauce with chicken, it's already been requested!

Deja Vu?

I’m at the Brussels Airport waiting on my flight.  The last time I was here, three years ago Sunday, I was headed to Dakar, Senegal with 39 other young, idealistic Peace Corps Trainees.  We were halfway through 24 hours of travel and excited to see our new home for the following few years.  I remember that the hallways and bathrooms at the airport smelled exactly as I remembered them 3 years before when I first went abroad and I was instantly transported back.  Today is much the same: same airport, same interesting mix of French, Flemmish, and English everywhere, and same final destination.  Today, however, I am alone.

Today I set off not as a PC Trainee but as a PC Response Volunteer, and for just 5 months instead of the 27months I was faced with last time I was at the Brussels Airport.  I don’t have the other 39 with me (or any other number as our group shrunk over the two years).  While it’s slightly different, it’s also very, very familiar.  Walking through the airport, being grouped into the flights bound for Africa (and exiting the EU), and watching as I once again become the minority traveler in age, gender, and race.  I pass by the gate for the flight bound for Banjul and actually know where it’s going (when we had a stopover during the first flight, I thought it was Mali or somewhere in the Sahara, oops!).  I sit at the gate for Dakar and recognize some of the telling features of the ethnic groups sitting near me, understand the language being spoken as well as the accent, and admire the dress (especially the tall man in the majestic white boubou with and hot pink roller carry-on).  Dignified old French men and women give way to African “big men”, women in sparkling dresses, and elderly European tourists dressed inappropriately.  I’m comfortable, and yet starting to get nervous as I think about the arrival gate in Dakar.  Someone is supposed to meet me but mistakes with pickups aren’t unknown in PC Senegal history.  It will be fine, Inchallah, even though the only money on me is a 20euro and maybe 1.23 in change.  Hmm

I know where I’m going and yet I don’t know what awaits me.  It’s scary and exciting all at once.  This service will be very different from my first, not the least in the fact that it’s so much shorter and will be urban-based instead of in tiny Ndiomdy.  I don’t know how much freedom I’ll have in my schedule (will I make my friends’ village wedding on Saturday?  I won’t know until Friday night probably) or what my interaction with other PCVs will be like (no longer in Kaolack).  How will things go with Plan?  Will I be able to travel to a few of the areas I never made it to before COSing almost 10months ago?  What will it be like without the members of my Stage (Stage ET) or core members of my support group? 

It’s an adventure and I can’t wait to experience it!

[We are now flying over the Sahara and I can tell through the window that the sun is gathering strength, changing from that which shines in Burgundy on good days (and was covered by the usual clouds in Brussels) and becoming the hot African sun which tortures poor souls in the hot season but controls the flow of life year round.]

A la prochaine fois, la France

Upside down

So on Monday night at 9pm, I found out that I was booked on a flight for Thursday morning at 11:45am, giving me just two days to get my life in France in order.  Senegal was a very likely possibility, but without an exact date I didn’t want to tell my students or start packing, si jamais there was a problem.  Slightly superstitious, I know.

My lycee, the three windows up top
on the right are my tiny classroom

In the two days I barely had time to breathe, let alone teach, pack, and laugh with the other assistants, leaving me already slightly behind on correspondence, grad school communication, and unable to enjoy some last few walks around my medieval French town.  [And somewhere in there, Ash Wednesday also happened meaning its Lent and time to get serious.]

Looking up at Semur from the river

My last day in Semur seemed both totally normal and completely ridiculous at once.  After some slightly emotional goodbyes with my favorite classes at the lycee generale on Tuesday (they wrote me a poem and we took pictures!), I showed up for my two lycee pro classes and of course the prof wasn’t there.  Monica and I had leftover lunch together as we do everyday and the other girls came over in the evening for dessert and kir royales.  I spent part of the afternoon with my language exchange partner, Christiane, talking about the schools, her family, and traveling over tea and cake.  I went to double (or triple) check something about the apartment with the school administration which turned into an hour long legal argument between the two cons (fools, idiots) who run the school finances (uh…) and Monika and myself about the amount of rent.  We of course turned out victorious because the two of them are unable to do basic number crunching and refused to look at their files.  We did learn one thing: “apparently” in France a contract that you are never shown or agree to can be changed after a different agreement has been made, without you being informed (don’t follow?  Neither did we…nor the two idiots we were arguing with).  After the sadness about leaving some of my fave students, I was reminded yet another reason why the school is ridiculous.  A relatively normal day in Semur and at the lycee.

One of the four old towers

And yet it wasn’t because it was my last day in a beautiful medieval town in the French countryside and the sun was shining.  I went back and forth between the post office and my apartment some 5 times with boxes and things to mail.  I closed my bank account (only after the argument with the lycee).  And I packed everything I own, again…and all by 8pm (a record in itself!).  I said goodbye to some of the students, teachers, and assistants, watched an episode of Glee, and crashed in my bed, in a room full of ugly blue and pink wallpaper.

For the record, I feel the need to share how glad I am that I signed up for the teaching assistantship in France.  Several friends suggested it as a good “pause” year between PC and jobs or grad school and while on more than one occasion I felt like my work with the lycee was a waste of time (for me) and money (them and me), it was a good decision.  True, I had a crappy lycee arrangement with 500-some students and more than 37 groups of them (and thus couldn't spend quality time with them), several overly political teachers and admin which hurt their students' apprentissage of English, and a cold apartment that we were overcharged to live in (and then deal with the idiots who can’t do math), but I still had a good experience.

As I’ve mentioned, I couldn’t have asked for a better roommate in Monika or other fellow assistants Vir, Jie, and hospital volunteer Klara.  We all got along well, enjoyed spending time together, and laughed.  A LOT.  We spoke French together all of the time, which is a much better situation than many of the city assistants I know who spend their days and weeks in English.  Semur is a beautiful town, more so in the sun than the clouds, that was just on pace with what I was looking for when I first applied to the position.  The students were nice and of modest background (so not overly stuck up/snobby) and liked to laugh with me.  There’s wine and cheese aplenty.  This year also fulfilled a life-long dream I had of living in Europe (in my apartment, going to grocery stores, speaking true French, visiting cafes, and seeing la vrai quotidienne, quoi.  Burgundy, while not super glamorous, is a very interesting and historic part of France with a lot to offer.

Along those lines, some of the things I will miss the most about not being in France:

Leftover tiramisu with Kir Royales:
Creme de Cassis et Cremante

• Les filles, as we called ourselves.  We’ll see each other again, somewhere, sometime.  In the least, it’s an excuse to come back to Europe or to go to South America J
• Speaking French, real French.  In Senegal I speak Fre-rere or Frolof (combos of French and Serere or Wolof), but in France it’s a different language completely.  I still make lots of silly grammar mistakes (la instead of le, confusion on the subjunctive tense, etc), but I’m so much more comfortable in French than I’ve ever been and have serious difficulty turning it off, which I LOVE.  Most assistants speak their native languages with their teachers, but I’ve only ever really spoken French with mine (the exceptions are few and far between), though they only spoke English with the girl who was in Semur last year.  True, because of Senegal, Brussels, Paris, and being American, I’ll never have a true French accent, or even a deep Burgundy accent (much to my chagrin, I can’t roll my Rs), but I’ll have to satisfy myself with people not being able to confidently place my accent.  Also, in Burgundy, unlike silly Paris, people will continue to speak to you in French even after they realize you aren’t French.  Maybe it’s a lack of English knowledge or confidence, or they just have no idea where you are from, but I really appreciate it.  I’m a stubborn traveler and only ever respond in French when I’m traveling abroad, but I really enjoyed when people would carry on conversations with me in French even if I stumbled over things.  And my language exchange lessons were a lot of fun.
• Wine.  In Senegal, it burns and tastes like vinegar, but in France it has so many qualities and is a fascinating culture in and of itself, plus it’s cheap.  I’m pretty sure that when I have a house I want a wine cave and a garden, like almost every Semur family.

• Afternoon tea (and not necessarily like in Britain).  This wasn’t a daily occurrence but because Monika and I had a lot of tea/coffee/hot chocolate in our apartment and the town cafés always closed randomly without warning, our place became a great place for a hot afternoon drink and gossip alongside some type of sweet that we made or received from someone.  Just now while drinking some tea and eating a cookie on this flight, I thought about how it’s not quite the same in Senegal or France.  It was always a fun, relaxing, and cheap thing to do with the girls as a break from work or whatever.
• Things written in French: sorry, but it’s just so much more elegant than English, à mon avis.
• My students (many of them) who were mostly sweet though talkative (though not always in English), but I loved getting a rise out of them by being silly or telling them something ridiculous about the US (cost of college tuition, stereotypes of French people, etc), and laughing at/with them about English pronunciation.  The 2ndes and 1eres were particularly enjoyable (especially Madame W's class!) and I hope to hear from some of them via email.
• Being paid in Euros

The salon, before the ceiling
started caving in

Things I won’t miss: the grayness that existed November-early February, my cold apartment, the fools I already mentioned, apartment issues like a falling ceiling and mold, teacher/student/train strikes (ok ok, they exist in Senegal), the “bof!” culture of not caring exhibited by some colleagues, and French bureaucracy (though I would love for socialized healthcare to come to the US, so much easier and better!).

This chapter of my life in France is done; another is opening in Senegal, and in the fall yet another chapter will begin as I start grad school.  I was accepted to the Johns Hopkin’s Bloomberg MS in Public Health (slightly different from a traditional MPH) and Tuft’s University MPH and now have an important decision to make.  I’m still in disbelief that a future in the US is starting to shape up but it will be good to return for awhile.  As long as these programs don’t get canceled or change their minds…

Au revoir Burgundy!

Il faut fêter quoi!

This celebration also happened to fall on Carnaval

Jie and Klara working on the salad

So as I’ve mentioned before, the other assistants and I like to get together and celebrate holidays and random events, especially birthdays.  There aren’t very many cafés or restaurants in Semur (esp not any we could afford), so we wind up cooking quite a bit.  The food is a whole range of things from German shnitzels or sweet pancake like things with raisins (Kaiserschmann, sp?, Monika) to Mexican food and chili (me), Asian cuisine (Jie), French quiches and other dishes (Vir and Monika), and salads (Jie and myself), plus yummy desserts (Vir, Klara).  Monika and I baked so much in the winter (out of boredom and the holidays) that we started referring to the place as a biscuiterie or cookie shop. 

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m not really a cook and have to really be inspired to want to spend time cooking, but as Monika and I take turns cooking lunch a few times a week, I’ve been trying more and more.  Recent creations of mine have included vegetarian quesadillas, peanut butter banana pancakes with yogurt, breakfast burritos, Senegalese bean sandwiches, squash soup, veggie heavy dishes like pastas or skillet creations, pumpkin pie, and salads with anything you can think of (chick peas are my recent addictions).  They’re usually inventive and only somewhat follow a recipe and I love being pleasantly surprised when they turn out pas mal.

Joyeux 24 Vir!

On Tuesday we fête-d Vir’s birthday and my going away with an Italian feast and some of our fave teachers and Frenchies.  We don’t eat much pasta at all ever and were missing it so decided to make two types of pasta (spaghetti and farafelle) and two sauces (Bolognese and a meatless for vegetarian Klara), a tomato mozzarella salad, bread, and tiramisu.  I was in charge of the vegetarian sauce and wanted to do something that was cheese or cream-based instead of just a meatless version of Monika’s sauce.  I searched online and all of the alfredo sauces were super boring, just cream, flour, and perhaps a little cheese.  And then I found it!  A cheesy alfredo with an interesting mix of veggies.  Whereas most called for peas and ham (obviously not vegetarian), this called for artichokes (we just so happened to have a can in the pantry) and suggested mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes (a bit of a search to find them and I found the last jar at the last store in Semur), along with a healthy dose of fresh parmesan, vegetable broth, and soy milk (I used regular).  I must say, it was quite the hit, even among the non-vegetarians. J

Though I’ve mentioned about not being a foodie (I’m really not, esp after traveling with two in Morocco and walking away less interested than I started), I am proud when a recipe that I find online and adjust turns out well and I wanted to share it with you all because I want to make it someday again.

Cheesy Artichoke Pasta Sauce (man, I’m salivating just thinking about it again and the way the flavors perfectly meshed).  From the website: Creamy Artichoke Sauce

Ingredients:

• 1/4 cup butter or margarine
• 2 tablespoons flour
• 1 1/2 cups vegetable broth
• 1/2 cup (soy) milk
• juice from one lemon (approx. 2 tablespoons)
• 1 can artichoke hearts, chopped
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 cup Parmesan cheese, fresh
• 8-10 oz pasta
• Sun dried tomatoes
• 1 can of mushrooms

Monika with her bolognese
and my creamy deliciousness

Preparation:

Cook pasta in large saucepan or pot. While the pasta is cooking, simmer the butter or margarine, flour and and vegetable broth in a small saucepan until it thickens, forming a roux, mixing well. If the mixture does not thicken, turn up the heat and add more flour. Add remaining ingredients, except for pasta, turn heat to low, and simmer for about 5 minutes, allowing flavors to blend and cheese to melt. Drain pasta when done cooking, toss with sauce and enjoy!

Monika and I also had a difficult job picking out wines to match our sauces, but I chose a Touraine, a white wine that had a suggested pairing with cheese and got positive comments from the real Frenchies at our soiree.  Woohoo!  A French cooking victory!

Our table, set for 13

It was a fun evening with everyone and was another reminder that I will definitely miss some certain aspects of life in Semur.  I like being able to see friends regularly, as in daily or every few days and enjoy meals together (it’s been YEARS since I’ve been able to do that).  Some day again.

Monika, moi, Jie, Vir, et Klara

Morocco!

A blond, a brunette, and a red head take on North Africa

On February 22, just a few days after protests finally made their way to Morocco (and subsequently stopped right away), fellow English assistants Erica, Sophia, and I traveled to Morocco for a 9 day winter vacation.  [I wanted to say it was “much-needed” but seeing as I barely worked the month before, it felt undeserved.  The sunlight was, however, much needed.]

Due to time and budget constraints, we stuck to the northern half of the Kingdom of Morocco, hitting Chefchaouen, Meknes, Volubilis, Fes, Marrakech, and Tangier.  We flew into and out of Tangier with EasyJet from Paris and then used a very organized system of buses and trains to get around everywhere our feet couldn’t take us.

For the sake of the few people who still read this blog, here are some highlights from the trip:

Favorite part:  Experiencing the interesting mélange of the Middle East, Western Europe, and Africa.  Unlike anywhere I’ve ever been and yet strangely familiar.  Chaotic yet organized, smelly yet clean, relaxed yet very traditional.  It obviously wasn’t my first trip to a Muslim country, nor to Africa, but was my first encounter with an Arab country and I find Arabic to be a beautiful and fascinating language.

Least favorite:  The cat calls, but is that a surprise?  I actually didn’t hear most of them but the others did.  Senegal gave me a thick skin and evil look but the creepers were drawn to Sophia like moths to a flame, poor girl (and she even looks a little Berber!).  Some of the comments were funny (“Spice Girls!  Hey Spice Girls!”) but others were more annoying and it took a lot out of the girls.

So glad I saw: the Roman ruins at Volubilis.  I’ve seen ruins in Cyprus, France, Germany, and of course Rome, but these were unlike any I had ever seen before.  Vast and detailed, and along with the Lonely Planet walking tour, the old Roman city came alive before my eyes.  The ruined city is full of beautifully intact mosaics, arches, columns, and a still visible city plan.  Fascinating.

Biggest regret: not visiting a hammam or Turkish bath.  Next time!

Best lodging: I used the (R)PCV-Fulbright network to connect with Monica in Meknes who very kindly let us stay at her place gratuite for three days though we had never actually met.  She and her friends taught us a lot about Morocco, Meknes, and Moroccan culture, plus her friend Zacaria’s mom made us authentic homemade couscous with lamb and seven veggies.  Unreal good.  Hotel Continental, overlooking the port in Tangier was also a fabulous throwback to the beatnik Morocco of the 1950s and 60s.

Biggest disappointment: not having a nice camera to fairly capture the beauty and colors of Morocco.  Sophia was our group photog with her fancy camera but I found myself discouraged and jealous about my tired little guy on more occasions than I care to mention.

Prettiest green space: either inside the Kasbah in Chefchaouen or the Jardin Majorelle (Yves St Laurent’s place, see group shot at start of blog).  Actually, the entire countryside in and around Chefchaouen.  

Favorite medina and market space: I hate to say it, but Marrakech.  Everything the guidebook and others said was to beware of the chaos of Fes, which seemed relatively tame to me (though we were lost 4 hours before we found it), Chefchaouen was small and interesting, and we never saw the entire Meknes market in it’s full glory, but the market in Marrakech was alive with people and things everywhere.  I was at once annoyed by the people and fascinated by everything everywhere!  It was cool to pass through the souks and watch crafters and artisans at work, dying fabrics bright and natural colors, pounding silver and brass, or carving wood, as well as the designer brand knockoffs and ridiculous Chinese imports.  And I had some funny bartering experiences.

 

Best food:  Wherever the locals were eating, but especially the lentil soup man we found in Chefchaouen.  Delicious soup (3dhm a bowl) and tasty tajines, plus he took care of us as customers and made sure no one harassed us in the least.

Best thing to drink:  Tough but the OJ juice at Place Diam el-Fnaa wins out for costing just 4dhm ($.40) for a tall glass of fresh-squeezed all natural pulpy OJ.  Runner up would be the juice in Meknes at Café Florence including avocado (lighter and creamier than you would imagine without tasting too much like guacamole), strawberry (in season and sooo good), and almond (chunks of almond in it!).  Also delicious was the Berber spiced coffee at Café Clock in Fez and thé épicé at the Café des Epices in Marrakech.  Oh man!  I totally forgot the mint tea!  Soooo good!  Morocco gets major points for delicious beverages.

Best pastries: In Meknes the girls became obsessed with the marrakachia, a pain au chocolat that has been married with an éclair: croissant filled to bursting with chocolate hazelnut pudding and covered in a thick coat of chocolate on top.  All for 3.5dhm (that’s $0.35).  Morocco, especially where we were, are famous for their pastries using honey, almonds, and peanuts in various combinations which we definitely enjoyed.

Best transit: The Marrakeche Express night train to Tangier.  Clean and decently priced couchettes with lots of space, on time, and they give you a bottle of water.

Weirdest food experience: Using the last 100dhm ($10) between us on a cheese pizza from Domino’s on the beach in Tangier our last afternoon with Celine Dion’s “My Heart Will Go On playing in the background.”  My travel companions were tired of much of the food and wandering around, so we wound up at this weird mall food court-like place that obviously caters to the rich European crew in the summer months but which is dead in winter.  Add the music and it was just weird.  We could have used the same amount of money to get bread, soup, yogurt, drinks, fruit, and pastries, but alas.  Obviously not a place for locals which made for a sad last meal in Morocco.

Travel essential: Lonely Planet Morocco.  This was a birthday present from my parents and there wasn’t an afternoon where we went without using it.  The maps were great, the information mostly up-to-date, and the facts fascinating.  We made notes in it and sent it along to my friends Jim and Michelle in London for use later this spring.

Something else fabulous: All of the nice Americans we met all over the place.  We met American tourists in every city we visited and wound up site seeing or sharing juice together.  Sophia kept remarking about how nice Americans can be to each other abroad (if only that extended to within the US and with foreigners).

So for the record, I totally recommend Morocco!  I’m glad I didn’t do PC in Morocco despite being invited to, but I really liked visiting and hope to go back sometime again.

Moi, Sophia, et Erica

An Announcement

No, it's not an engagement, marriage, or baby the way many of my friends have been making similar "announcements" the past few years.  This is another interesting life announcement that I had not necessarily expected to make this soon...

I'm going back to Senegal!

Yes, that's correct, I'm headed back to Senegal.  With the Peace Corps.  Again.

Don't worry, it's not another 27 month commitment--just 5 months this time.  I'm going back as what is called a Peace Corps Response Volunteer.  What's Peace Corps Response you may ask?  Well, it's basically a bunch of short term (3months-1 year) specialized Volunteer assignments designed for "experienced" Returned Peace Corps Volunteers and apparently I fit into that category for peer education trainings.  As part of the grad school application process (still awaiting news), I had been in communication with my old PC boss and one day he asked me about my interest in a PCResponse position.  Seeing as I didn't have any concrete plans for the summer (or a plane ticket back to the US), I said sure!  I will be returning to Senegal as a PCResponse Volunteer working as a Life Skills Facilitator in Thies with the NGO Plan International and probably assisting with aspects of the Pre-Service Training of the new Health and EE Trainees.

What's Life Skills?  Well, it's a program developed by Peace Corps worldwide for training youth in such topics as self-confidence, good decision making, and reproductive health (mainly how to avoid early pregnancy, STIs, and HIV/AIDS).  Along with Farba and several Stage-mates, I attended a Life Skills training program my first year as a PCV.  My peer educator training in January 2010 was based off of some Life Skills models, though not a complete program.  With Plan, I will help them develop a peer-educator program in Life Skills as part of a 4-year teen empowerment program (through health education and savings and loans programs).  After a few months, another PCRV will arrive (and stay for a year) and we will work together to get the program off the ground.  It's a really exciting project and directly in line with my career interests of health education and training.  I will be based in Thies for the 5 months, but hope to make a few visits back to Ndiomdy as possible (but with the permission of my replacement so as to not edge her out as she's getting comfortable).

"So when do you go?" you may ask...soon.  Like very soon...as in probably this week, Inchallah.

WHAT?!?!  This week?  "Aren't you still working in France?!"  Yes, this week and I will be there through August.  I'm currently waiting for Senegal to tell DC when they can "receive me in country" so DC can buy my ticket from Paris to Dakar.  True, my contract in France is through the end of April, but with another 2-week spring vacation starting April 15 through the end of the month, and standardized testing in early April, (depending on when I fly out) I will only basically be missing 3 weeks or so with my students.  And with my crazy messed up teaching schedule, that's less than one session with each group (not counting any canceled sessions for strikes/teacher illnesses/forgotten times with the Assistante).  I spent the last several weeks mailing and faxing things to DC, getting stuck with vaccine updates, spending a lot of money on all of these things, and furiously sending emails for PC medical and legal clearance.  I now have my PC passport back, with a new Senegal visa and lots of shots (which I kept in my fridge over the vacation and smelled like cheese when I gave them to the doctor to administer).  It's a shame to have to leave a little early, but everyone here seems to understand that it makes more sense to leave France a little early than to miss out on a chance to return to Senegal and have something to do for the entire summer.  Some teachers were a little sad, but several didn't even bat an eye or say anything more than "D'accord."  They couldn't care less.  Tant pis.

I'll be sad to leave Monica, Vir, Jie, Klara, and the many Dijon assistants, as well as many of the students, some teachers, and the town of Semur-en-Auxois, but am really looking forward to yet another African adventure, even if it will be during the hot and rainy seasons.  I like Semur a lot and highly recommend it to people who want to see the true Burgundy countryside.  Burgundy might not have a lot to offer, but the countryside is beautiful (esp in the sun and the fall), the food is great, the history fascinating, and the French accent fabulous (rolled Rs and high-pitched voices for old men).  The past 6 months have definitely been an incredible learning experience and while my French still isn't perfect, it's much better and I'm more confident with it than I've ever been.  I learned about teaching, France, myself, and much more.  The school wasn't great, but I had company in Monika and the other assistants who more than made up for it.  I couldn't have asked for a better roommate and I know that we will stay in touch (in the least so we can have travel destinations!).

So I don't know when I'm leaving, but it's soon, Inchallah.  This weekend I have to finish getting things in order, start packing, and enjoy the all-too-rare Burgundy sun with some friends, perhaps for the last time.  A good PCV friend is marrying her village sweetheart on Saturday in the village, but I sadly doubt I will be able to make it.  Who knows though.

Needless to say, please don't send anything my way until I update with a new mailing address, probably the Training Center in Thies.

Always,
Bethany (soon-to-be Khady, again)

P.S. Please say some prayers for good news from grad school.  I'm getting anxious in the waiting.  Thanks!