Coming Home

The refugees have come home.  This is the way that I have felt the past month in Senegal. It was wonderful and the people were amazing, but the 12 hour car ride from Thies, Senegal to Farajara, The Gambia felt as if I was a refugee returning to my homeland. This was an odd feeling to have since I had never been to The Gambia before. The Gambia is nicknamed the ‘smiling coast of Africa’ and it is a great way to describe it. The majority of the people I have met so far are smiling all the time with an aura of peacefulness about them. 

Western side of the Atlantic, Day 1 in The Gambia

In the Gambia, I was staying in Madiyama with the Darbo family. They were a great family with many young children running around. One young boy, Omar, about 1 year old laughed every single second I was around. It was this gurgling, bubbling over with pleasure and pure glee laugh. How can you have a bad day with that kind of joy around all the time?

That’s not to say that bad days didn’t happen. They did. My language group and I got food poisoning. The things one’s body does with strange food inside of it is something I never thought. I will spare you the details this time but next time I’ll give you the full story. It’s like a get out of jail free card. But being sick is exhausting, all we could do was lie around for 3 days while we got our strength and hydration back. Then we went on MARATHON MARCH! Which is absolutely my thing, it’s like hiking mountains only flat. It was 20K across the varieties of terrain that Gambia offers us. Salt marshes, forests, desert, ocean…the landscape was spectacular. But we also had to squish our way through the mangroves which involved swimming so I didn’t bring my camera, thus no photos. You will just have to trust me that it was breathtaking. Also, I have this huge problem with the feeling of squishy things seeping between my toes. Walking through about 10K of this type of ground will cure anyone’s issues. After my toes got so cramped with me trying to curl them together to prevent the mud to squish through, I just had no option but to let them relax and accept that this was a change that was going to happen whether I wanted it or not. Toward the end of the march, I started to get sick again.

Spent the next few days trying to convince myself that I was fine, which I wasn’t went to the medical office, ran some tests. Went back the next day for extreme dehydration due to diarrhea and vomiting, and got some handy IV fluids and THE WORST SHOT OF MY LIFE (WORSE than the 3^rd Gardacil). It was for nausea, and I have no idea what it was but it was terrible. It immediately made me fall asleep for several hours and any time I woke up for the next few hours I feel as if I was drunk but glued to the bed, a very heavy feeling. Turns out I had a parasite of some kind, took 4 pills of some parasite killer drug and after a few days of good rest, I’m as good as new.

Although being sick is by far the hardest thing that has happened to me so far. I felt like death and I didn't have my care system, my mom, friends, Evan, around to help. So not only did I get sick but I got depressed for familiarity and comfort. Comfort people and comfort foods. The med office has a hot shower, which is incredibly valuable in times of depression. And I had phone calls from my parents, my sister, and Evan all in a row. They were coordinating in the states as to whose turn it was to talk to me. I was loved and cared for even across the ocean and can't thank them enough for their help. Also, my PCVL (PC volunteer leader) brought me a veggie panini. The wonders that good food can do for one's body and mind. The fellow trainees also support one another immensely. We've known each other for about 2 months and I feel as if I have known them forever. 

Said goodbye to the Darbo family, I’m not sure if it’s getting easier or more difficult to transition. I didn’t connect to the family here as much as the Mangung family of Senegal. Partly, because I was sick and lying in bed the majority of the time I was with them. Plus, the family of Senegal and I had this amazing ability to communicate with charades, and we really understood each other. After a few days, I felt like I was family. Here I still felt like a guest. But it was a much more relaxing atmosphere.

On Wednesday, all the trainees get to go to their Permanent site.  My permanent site…..drum roll…..Tenengfara! It’s on the south bank about halfway between Basse (the western ‘city’) and Kombo (the eastern ‘city’). I have heard it’s about as stereotypical Peace Corps experience as one can have.  I will have a one room mud hut, straw roof, with a mud fenced in backyard and latrine area. No internet. No electricity. Very hot. Very dirty. But its sorta kinda near the river, and an island called Baboon Island which ….has Baboons on it. You can’t go onto the island because it’s a sanctuary but I can take a boat tour and see them. Anyways, I will blog all about my site visit when I return.

TODAY! I received my first letters and packages. Two letters and two packages! It was a glorious victorious day. I feel so loved and am so happy with all the food I got.  There is something wonderful about receiving letters and packages that I didn’t know were coming. The surprise factor is very high and I will treasure everything I receive. Thank you so much to everyone who has sent or is sending things. I promise that I will soon add a list of things that I would appreciate having here. But I also love being surprised. Fashion magazines, news magazines, protein bars, water ENHANCERS with no sugar but electrolytes are at the top of the list right now.