It’s almost June. I’ve been in Senegal longer than I was in Niger. Sometimes I find myself standing for moments on end, flying back over space and time to that unfinished business. It’s an odd sensation, but the country of Niger made an imprint on my mind and I can’t erase it, even as distance stretches between me and it.
My efforts now turn to immersing myself in Senegal. The more I learn, the more I am intrigued. As in the States, the economic, social, and religious demographic varies widely from region, to city, to village. This is mirrored in the volunteer experience. I live in a concrete house with electricity, running water, and a very small family. I visited a friend of mine in a village, and she lives in a mud hut, with no such luxuries and a large, bustling family that is constantly encircling her with chatter and laughter. Over the same weekend, I went to Dakar and viewed a friend’s gorgeous (Peace Corps funded) apartment on the top of a high rise building. We work for the same organization. Each of us has the same goal, and same motivation. We are achieving it very differently.
After getting a taste of the range of volunteer living arrangements, I became wistful for the village life that I am missing. In the city, I’m overwhelmed daily by the amount of people, the pollution, and the attention. In my friend’s village, everybody knows her by name and she is comfortably settled into her routine. She sleeps under the stars and breathes clean(er) air. Of course, I’m romanticizing it. She would probably be quick to point out the advantages of my situation, of which there are many. We always wish for what we don’t have, isn’t that the way it goes?
Interestingly, in this same village that I mention, poles were recently erected for electricity. My friend called to tell me, and my first reaction was “that’s great!” and she immediately said “no, it’s terrible!”
I’ve written about this phenomenon a bit in past blog entries. I would call it stagnant progress. As volunteers, we become so immersed in our community that we don’t want it to change, even though that is our job. We are change agents. In this particular village, my friend is working as an agriculture volunteer to increase millet, corn, and cereal production in surrounding fields. She is extending seeds to farmers and monitoring their fields for greater yield. Most of the men in the village are farmers. Village life centers around community gatherings and family compounds, around a slow pace of life that embraces the timelessness. How will the advent of electricity make a difference? The schedule of the day will surely be altered. Young people will play music late at night, keeping the lights on until they see fit and perhaps disturbing the neighbors. You won’t be able to see the stars. New products will be available to sell - cold drinks, yogurt, an entire market to crack into. And get ready for a wave of electronic products!
We live in the digital age, in which strangers can share entire life stories and never meet. Some think of this as an unfriendly system, and others marvel at the opportunities and technologies. For example, even with the speed and reliance of email, I’m enjoying writing and receiving letters. There’s something elusive and important in that tangible message, something that’s missing in an email. Sometimes I feel as if that square of paper is tethering me to whoever wrote it, and I feel connected, briefly, as I hold it. For someone like me, far away from home and familiarity, it helps.
We’ve been dealing with this technological revolution for quite some time now, adapting to how it shapes our relationships and our work. Senegal is in the throes of doing the same. But it remains ‘to be determined’ at what cost.
I live in a household that has one foot in each country, so to speak. My host dad is a high school physics teacher. He leaves the house each morning looking like a well dressed American man heading to the office. My host mom is a traditional woman who cooks, cleans, takes care of her man and wears beautifully tailored Senegalese clothing. They have a nice Dell computer, a modem for internet, electricity, and running water. She attends proper social functions. He works at home on the computer grading papers. It’s an interesting and yet comfortable blend. If we were to take this house as an example, we might find no contest between past and future Senegal. You really can have both.
Of course, I’m getting ahead of myself. My house is wired for electricity but we only have it thirty percent of the time. Senegal yet lacks the infrastructure to offer these resources properly. So villagers? Take a deep breath, because we still have a long way to go.
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