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Last week, I helped three new Volunteers get ready to move into their sites, where they are just starting the journey which I have been on for a year. While every volunteer has a different experience here – living in different villages, speaking different languages, meeting different people – the growth and timeline that we experience can be generalized. We all go through three months of training, and then get dropped off in site. Upon realizing that we’re totally alone, we all experience the sudden feeling that our training could never have prepared us to live in an actual Senegalese village. We all have a moment where we think “did I really just spend three months studying this language, because I do not understand anything these people are saying.” And then, gradually, we get settled, we learn the language, and we learn to thrive in this crazy, amazing country.

While we were getting ready to install the new Volunteers in their permanent homes, they often asked us to translate what people were saying, or how to translate common English phrases into Pulaar. Interacting with people who just passed the same exam that I did one year ago was a great reminder of how far I’ve come and how much I’ve learned. And trying to translate common phrases made me realize how much of the Pulaar language doesn’t translate well into English.

In this post, I want to share some of my favorite Pulaar words and phrases – things that I’ve adopted into my daily vocabulary, but don’t translate cleanly into English. I hope you’ll enjoy these phrases, and maybe even adopt them into your vocabulary!

Woppii (woah-pee): Left/abandoned/quit

This word is has a stronger meaning than “to leave” and less strong than “to abandon.” There’s an implication of leaving someone/something intentionally.

Examples of how to use “Woppii”:

If you made plans with someone, they didn’t show up, AND they didn’t have the decency to tell you they couldn’t make it, they woppii-ed you – they left you hanging.

If you have been working on a project for a long time, but it just isn’t going to happen, you should save your effort and woppii it – you should abandon it.

If you are helping new Peace Corps Volunteers and you say “call me if you need anything, but I’m actually leaving for vacation in a few days so I’ll only be available through WhatsApp,” you are woppii-ing them (but only until you come back from said vacation, I promise!) – you are leaving them alone.

Fewii (Fey –as in Tina Fey– whee): to be in working order, functional, good

This word can actually mean a number of things, describing things that are in perfect working order, as well as things that look like they could break any minute but haven’t yet.

Examples of how to use “fewii”:

If you spend hours doing beautiful henna art on your hands and feet, when you get home, your family will tell you it’s fewii – it’s good/beautiful.

If the door to your house falls off, and you reattach it to the hinges with wire, and after you let go it stays standing, your door is fewii – it’s not great, but it’ll work.

If you are riding in public transportation, and someone directs you to a certain seat and asks if it’s ok for you, you can tell them it’s fewii – it’s fine for you.

Waawii (wow-ee–rhymes with tea): to be able/competent at something

This word can be translated as either “you’re able to do something” or “you’re really good at something.” It can also be followed by either a noun or a verb, making it really easy to use in every day speech.

Examples of how to use “waawii”:

I can communicate in Pulaar, therefore I waawii Pulaar – I can speak Pulaar.

If you are wearing cute clothes one day, your friends or family may tell you that you waawii putting on clothes, or that you waawii being cute – You know how to dress.

If you went to a 5-star restaurant and got to meet the chef, you could pay him a great compliment and tell him that he “waawii-s” cooking – S/he is a great chef who really knows how to cook.

Another beautiful part of the Pulaar language is the proverbs. Some can be compared to American proverbs – there’s one proverb that translates almost directly to “birds of a feather flock together,” and another that says “you reap what you sow” – but I find the ones that I haven’t heard before more entertaining. Here are some of my favorites:

• The bull deserved the beard, but God gave it to the goat
• A stick may be in a river for a long time, but it will never be a crocodile
• If you have a mouth/speech, you cannot get lost
• If everyone’s beard is on fire, each person must put out their own beard first

While I still get frustrated when I can’t fully express myself here, I have come to love the intricacies and beauty of Pulaar. And on particularly frustrating days, I remind myself of my favorite Pulaar proverb: “Going slowly doesn’t keep you from arriving.” Slowly, slowly, I’ll continue to improve, and I’ll continue to learn more every day here.

I couldn’t have prepared for how full my heart felt during the days we spent in my site. For me it was two worlds colliding – literally two families becoming one. My American family was patient with my limited translation abilities. My Senegalese family was warm and welcoming, throwing us a dance party and feeding us delicious food. My American family brought gifts, candy, and toys, and my Senegalese family gave them each Senegalese names to show that we are all part of one family. Now, we’re all Pams!

While I could write novels about my feelings during the trip, that wouldn’t be a fair representation of our time in my village.As someone with feet planted firmly in both worlds, my feelings were unique. Part of what I loved about my family’s visit was that I got to experience seeing my village for the first time through their eyes. They kept making comments which reminded me of my first days and weeks in village, and I think their observations summed up our trip in the best ways. For that reason, I’ve asked my family for their thoughts on my village in the hopes that you can get a more comprehensive story of our trip and my host family. As a very biased reporter, I hope these other (slightly less biased) reports will show you just how special my village is.

Thoughts from my dad, Oumar Pam

“Being in Hannah’s village was the high point of our trip to Senegal. It was hands down the best food we had in the entire country. The pace of life there was relaxing but still a lot of fun. We spent a big part of each day sitting on a mattress and having people feed us. The one thing that stood out the most was how loving and giving the people are in Mbakhna. Seeing Hannah there with her Senegalese family was immeasurable joy.”

Thoughts from my mom, Mairame Pam

“Being in Hannah’s village was an amazing experience that I will forever treasure! The people were so warm and welcoming. As we walked through the village greeting people, we were regularly invited in to sit on mats and talk, often sharing tea or food. The sense of community and hospitality for all people was amazing.”

Thoughts from my sister, Hawa Pam

“Senegal was very dusty. The people were incredibly hospitable. It was refreshing to be so far removed from the western world – especially in Hannah’s site. I gained a lot of insights about how Hannah lives and learned a ton about Senegal.”

Thoughts from my sister, Adama Pam

“It was really exciting to be in Hannah’s village, and get to see what is, in almost its entirety, Hannah’s life now. Meeting people was tiring, the wind was harsh and some hours were hot, but it felt very homely and natural. The buildings and landscape were ‘classically dessert village’ to me, but what I was most struck by was its simplicity yet fullness. I am so glad we were able to visit (to see Hannah) and meet the Pams. That village is now a second ‘home’ and another environment and lifestyle that I understand and respect.”

One of the goals of Peace Corps is “to help promote a better understanding of other peoples on the part of Americans.” During this trip, my family helped me fulfill that goal by spending time getting to know my life and my family here. By reading this blog, you too have helped me achieve that goal. I hope that these accounts have helped you to see that my village in Senegal is an incredible place full of amazing people. Their hospitality is unmatched. They are happy to welcome total strangers into their homes, to feed them, to give them a place to sleep, and to teach them about Senegalese culture. They are patient and generous, and if you ever make it to Senegal, they will invite you in with open arms and bowls of rice.

In Islam, there are two big annual holidays: Eid Al-Fitr and Eid Al-Adha. The first is a celebration at the end of Ramadan, a month of fasting and spiritual cleansing. I fasted with my family for 21 days back in May, and the day we got to start eating during the day again was certainly a happy one. But it was nothing compared to the the second, larger holiday. In Senegal, it is called Tabaski. It celebrates Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his son to God. (For those of you unfamiliar with the story, here’s a quick recap.) While Tabaski is only marked as one day on my google calendar, the preparation and celebration spanned almost a month. Here’s a rundown of how we prepared:

CLOTHES

Everyone wants to look good for the holidays, and Tabaski is no exception. Weeks before hand, my family started buying new clothes. They came back from the weekly market with colorful, matching outfits, freshly pressed and kept in plastic bags so they wouldn’t get dusty before the big day. But for Tabaski, one new outfit isn’t enough. The celebration can last for over a week, so my family also took fabric to a local tailor to make additional custom-designed outfits. Going to tailors to get custom clothing isn’t as unusual here as it is in America, so tailors have pretty good business year-round. But during the month leading up to Tabaski, the work is non-stop. About a week before the celebration, I was up around 4AM to catch an early car, and I saw a tailor who had been working through the night. When I asked her if she had gone to bed or rested at all, she said she would rest after Tabaski. All that hard work pays off though, in stunning, colorful, perfectly-fitted outfits.

HENNA AND HAIR

On the day(s) when we actually celebrate, people will put on their new clothes and beautiful, elaborate makeup. But some of the dressing up requires more than a morning of prep. In the days leading up to Tabaski, we started getting henna and braiding hair.

The henna takes nearly 24 hours to complete. My sister and I spent an afternoon cutting pieces of tape into thin strips, which she then layered onto the soles of my feet in a pattern. When my feet and toes were taped to her satisfaction, she spread a henna paste over the tape, wrapped my feet in plastic bags, put socks on over the bags, and told me to be careful when I walked. Then she started the same process on my hand. By the time my hand was bagged it had been nearly four hours, but I wasn’t complaining. More intricate designs can take much longer. I slept in my socks and woke up with the call to prayer around 5AM the next morning. I held the flashlight so my sister could see where to scrape the henna paste off my feet and hands, being careful to leave the tape in tact. The parts of my skin that weren’t taped are now sepia, like the Indian henna I was most familiar with in the states.  But in Senegal, there’s another step. Taking care to keep the tape in place, my feet and hands were rubbed with a chemical that reacts with the henna to turn it even darker, and about 5 hours later the designs were completely black. When time is up, the bags are removed so the chemical can air dry. And finally, a full day later, my henna was complete!

The braids take less time, only about 7 hours total. My family really wanted to give me extensions, but after a multiple day discussion, they settled for braiding the hair already attached to my head. I’ve only gotten my hair trimmed once since I left the states, so there’s plenty to braid. My sister spent about two hours a day for three days braiding tiny strands of my hair, for a total of 70 braids on my entire head. (Taking them out a week later only took about an hour.)

SHOPPING

In addition to buying clothes, henna, and hair extensions, people prepare for Tabaski by buying food and gifts. Because it’s the largest holiday of the year, families will usually save money specifically for Tabaski. The markets are flooded with people looking for fruit, vegetables, bags of rice, noodles, sheep, goats, and sugar. While I tried to avoid the markets, my family members went daily and came home with new bowls, cups, pitchers, tons of food, and candy for the children.

THE MAIN EVENT

I was extremely lucky because I got to celebrate Tabaski with another volunteer – specifically, the volunteer who lived in my village before me. (She’s the blonde girl in my pictures.) Not only was she helpful with names I had forgotten and translating local language, but she was also a great reminder of what the next two years might look like for me. It was wonderful to see how much our village loved and missed her, because it reminded me how many relationships can be built while living in a new place. No one told me “she did a lot of health talks,” but people were overflowing with stories of lunch dates and afternoons spent drinking tea. It was like traveling with a celebrity, and I loved it.

The morning started out like normal, with the women cleaning the compound and starting to cook early. The only thing that differentiated the first morning of Tabaski was watching my father slaughtered a sheep. Because goats and sheep are expensive, they’re saved for special occasions, and Tabaski is at the top of the list. After the meat was cut, my father and the rest of the men in the community put on their new clothes and went to the mosque. My sisters prepared multiple courses of meat with onion sauce, meat with macaroni, and meat with rice. When the men got home from the mosque, lunch was served.

After lunch, the older women put on their new clothes and serve koolaid-type drinks while the younger women do dishes. When everything is clean and everyone has had koolaid and tea, the younger women get to dress up. They pile on makeup, tie gravity-defying head scarves, and march through the sand in heels that I would be afraid to even stand still in. Because their chores aren’t done until after lunch, they spend time with their friends until late into the night. I tried to keep up, but I was always asleep before they returned home. The next morning, they would rise early and start the whole process over again. I wish I had photographed more people, but even photos can’t capture the joy and color that Tabaski brought to my village.

When I asked people how long Tabaski was going to last, estimations ranged for 4 days to 2 weeks. In more urban areas, celebrations may only last a day or two, but our community wasn’t going to settle for that. The most common answer was simple: “It doesn’t end.” As far as I could tell, the celebration lasted about a week, but I think my family would have been happy to keep eating meat and relaxing with friends for the rest of the month. For now, we’ll be counting down until next year.

The things that were harder to give up were the relationships and communities that I loved back home. Having to say goodbye to friends and family, visiting my favorite restaurants for the last time, and counting down the days until I left was simultaneously  exciting and heartbreaking. One of the places closest to my heart back in Georgia is called Extra Special People. ESP is a nonprofit organization that provides programs and opportunities for individuals with developmental disabilities. I volunteered and worked with ESP for about 3 years, and found a passion for the population we served there. I could write this entire post about the people I met there – both staff and participants – and how they shaped me into the person I am today, but for the sake of keeping this blog about Senegal I’ll leave it at this: ESP is always a place that I will call home, because it houses a community that I consider my family. When I got to Senegal, I figured my time working with people with disabilities was over for a while. We’re trained to focus our work on the most pressing community health issues here (malaria, child and maternal health, access to clean water, etc.), and unfortunately there isn’t a lot of precedent for volunteers working with people with disabilities.

Happily, I was wrong! A friend of mine recently organized a three day program for youth with disabilities here in Senegal. As soon as I found out about it, I volunteered to travel across the country and help him out in any way I could. I’ll admit, I was not an ideal volunteer. I don’t speak the language spoken in that region of Senegal, and I don’t even have the french skills to converse with the educated adults helping to run the activities. My experience with other youth programs (mainly summer camps) was useful, but easily overshadowed by other volunteers who had worked at other Senegalese and Peace Corps programs. And, as a brand new volunteer, I was the only counselor who didn’t lead a session.

But I like to think that what I lacked in practical skills, I made up for in energy and smiles. It was nearly impossible not to be happy around such excited kids. The participants represented four different organizations for individuals with different handicaps, including a group of children and young adults who were deaf. They came with an interpreter to sign for them, and I learned that in Senegal people use American Sign Language! This not only allowed me a little more communication than I was expecting, it was an incredible story. Apparently, an African American missionary who was deaf came to Western Africa and went country to country teaching people ASL. I have not been able to confirm this story, so if you feel so inclined, look into this and let me know what you find!

The program was three days long. The first day was focused on health activities. We taught the participants about healthy eating and nutrition, played a game about malaria transmission and bed net usage, did yoga, and had a field day. The next day, we did arts and crafts, including coloring, making a tiny village, tye dye, and beading. We also had a discussion about gender and the benefits of staying in school. On the last day, we learned about the environment. We went on a field trip to clean up trash on the beach, and we learned about vegetable gardening and planted trees. Like every good camp, there were also daily, sporadic dance parties.

The three days I spent with those participants were amazing. Not only was it great to work with children with disabilities again, but I got to talk to some of the older volunteers about their experiences and their work (some of whom are pictured at the top of this post). Even though it wouldn’t fall into our “primary sector” work (the work we’re trained to do here), they all encouraged me to continue to work with youth with disabilities here in Senegal. Many volunteers have projects that they are passionate about that don’t fit neatly into the goals Peace Corps Senegal assigns to us. As I’m heading back to site today, I’m already thinking about future activities I can implement with children with disabilities here. My heart is full of joy.

My primary sector is health, which means most of the work that I do for the next two years will likely focus on something health related: exclusive breastfeeding, hand washing, healthy eating, and disease prevention are just some of the topics my primary work could address. Recently, my primary sector work has focused on malaria prevention. It’s the beginning of rainy season here, which also marks the beginning of malaria season.

Fortunately for most of you reading this blog, malaria has been eradicated in the United States. Unfortunately, in Senegal and many other parts of the world, that’s not the case. Across the globe, a child dies of malaria every 30 seconds, and about 90% of malaria cases are found in Sub-Saharan Africa. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the disease, here’s a basic rundown: A person has some malaria parasites in their blood. A mosquito bites that individual, then becoming an infected mosquito. That mosquito then bites another, healthy human and they become infected. Both infected mosquitoes and humans are needed to keep the cycle going. Seems pretty straight forward, right? Also, it seems totally preventable. Because it is.

Being infected with malaria doesn’t automatically mean you’ll die, or even show symptoms. Your body is able to cope with a small amount of the parasite, but without medication to keep the parasite count low, it will eventually multiply and make you sick. This means one (theoretical) way to prevent malaria is to provide everyone with medicine until the infected mosquitoes die out. If everyone world wide was treated for malaria for one month, malaria would be completely eradicated.

Treating everyone may seem a little unrealistic, but there are other ways to help stop the spread of malaria. Sleeping under a bed net here significantly reduces cases, because the mosquitoes that transfer malaria usually bite between dusk and dawn. Seeking care as soon as the symptoms of malaria arrive is important to stop the cycle early and prevent others in your area from being infected. And, while it may seem obvious, educating people about the causes, symptoms, and prevention of malaria helps to keep communities actively involved in their health and well being. I recently worked to educate people about malaria by painting a mural and hosting a health talk.

One of the great things about Peace Corps work is the flexibility. We’re encouraged to take on “secondary projects” that don’t fall into our primary sector work. As my service continues, I’ll work with English clubs, agriculture and economic development volunteers, and women’s groups in my village. I’m also implementing the Michele Sylvester Scholarship at a local middle school. As a part of the Let Girls Learn initiative, the scholarship provides school fees for high achieving girls. This allows them to stay in school when financial and societal pressures might otherwise cut their education short. Look out for a link where you can donate to help girls like Aisata soon!

Thanks  for reading! As always, your comments and questions are more than welcome. Here’s one more picture of the awesome girls in my village:

I start my mornings here early. Because I sleep outside, I’m up around 6. By 6:30 the sun is out and it’s too bright and hot to be asleep. I spend the mornings doing chores (laundry, sweeping the ever present dust, checking my email, etc.). On weekdays, I go to the health hut (which is a two room building, not an actual hut). For now I just observe what goes on, but hopefully later in my service I’ll be presenting causeries and organizing information. I head home around 2:00, and spend the afternoon greeting people, studying the local language, and resting. In the evenings, I sit with my mom and siblings, who are all eager to teach me more about Senegal and life in the village.

As an American, I’m still uncomfortable with having so much free time, so I’ve also filled my time sporadically by decorating my room, exploring my village, and reading a lot. I’ve started working on a scholarship program to help high achieving middle school girls stay in school, so be expecting a lot more information about the Michelle Sylvester Scholarship next month! Some days, I spend all day resting, mostly because Islam communities everywhere are in the midst of Ramadan. As a show of solidarity (and a personal challenge), I’ve been fasting with my family, so I don’t eat or drink anything from sunrise to sundown. (You may have noticed the lack of meals in my daily schedule.) Ramadan lasts for 30 days, and we’re about one week away from the celebration for the end of the fast. My mom says we’re going to kill two goats, but I’m mostly excited about drinking water during the day. I’d definitely encourage you to learn a little more about Islam and Ramadan if you’re not already familiar! You can start learning here.

Now, on to the best part about this post: my family! They are the ones who are teaching me the language, showing me the most basic things (like where to buy bread), and patiently learning to appreciate my strange American tendencies. There are almost 30 people living in my compound and they’re all incredible. I wish I could tell you about all of them in this post, but for the sake of brevity, I’ll stick to the people I know the best right now.

Djarri (Pronounced jar-ee, rhymes with sorry): Although Djarri isn’t the oldest of her siblings, she has a lot of responsibilities. She’s only 11, but she cooks, cleans, watches the younger children, and runs errands every day. I don’t know where she finds the time to do anything else, but in her free time she has also taught me countless Pulaar words and phrases. She loves to dance, sing, and model. Djarri has a gift for names, and has already learned to say “Hannah Lefton” as well as the names of my immediate family members. She may be younger than me, but I strive to work as hard as Djarri every day.

Hawa: My host mom at site is a wonderful woman. Her patience with her 7 children (8, including me!) is unmatched, but she’s also not afraid to tell them when they’re out of line. When we’re not fasting, she wakes up early – around 5:00 – to make beignets, which she sells to people around the village. Her beignets are so well liked that people often come to our compound while she’s still cooking to buy them fresh. Her cooking skills are only second to her social skills. I’m convinced she knows every person in our village, and always has a friend or two over to pass the day with.

Ousmane: The boy in the green is my 4 year old brother and my best friend at site. He’s got a great imagination, and he’s taught me a lot of ways to pass the time during the long afternoons here. Some of our favorite games include making silly faces, counting anything within arms reach, popping my knuckles, and hand clapping games. I think we get along well because we speak a similar amount of Pulaar, although he’s years ahead of me in understanding what other people are saying. Ousmane makes me smile every single day, and I hope this picture will make you smile too:

As for everyone else, the pictures I’ve taken don’t do them justice, but I hope you’ll enjoy looking through a couple more all the same.

In training, we learned about international cultures on a spectrum from individualism to collectivism. While the United States falls heavily to the left (individualistic) of this spectrum, Senegal is on the righthand side (more collectivist). People share everything here, but I think the collectivist culture comes across most clearly around food. We eat all of our meals from communal bowls. If you visit someone near a meal time, they will insist that you stay to eat with their family – even if you’re a total stranger. On more than one occasion, children have come to our house with a tray during dinner to ask for food. Every family they visit gives a little bit, until the tray is full of different meals, essentially creating a crowd-sourced potluck for families who are unable to cook. People feel responsible not just for themselves and their kin, but for the community as a whole.

Another staple of Senegalese culture is greeting people. Each language in Senegal has different greetings. Pulaar greetings usually follow a script along these lines:

1: Peace be upon you

2: And upon you

1: Good morning/afternoon/evening

2: Yes, peaceful morning/afternoon/evening

1: How are you doing?

2: Peace only

1: Are you healthy?

2: I’m good

1: How is your family?

2: They are in peace

1: Did you eat breakfast/lunch/dinner?

2: Yes, I ate

1: Thanks be to God

2: Thanks be to God

While the “script” may seem contrived, it’s important to Senegalese people. If you don’t greet someone, you’ll be considered extremely rude-and you may get called out for it later.  In some villages, you’re expected to greet every person you pass on the street, which means a ten minute walk to a friends house can end up taking an hour. Close friends can greet for minutes before getting to any substantive conversation, or before one person finally admits that they have to continue going wherever they are heading. At first, I found the greetings cumbersome but with practice I’ve been able to greet people more quickly and confidently. On occasion, I now feel personally offended if someone doesn’t greet me when they’re supposed to.

Families and names are also hugely important in Senegal. When you’re meeting someone for the first time, they’ll ask you for your parents names to identify what household you belong to. Family names are also significant because they are associated with different language groups, castes, and regions of Senegal. To show respect, people sometimes greet close friends by saying their friend’s last name repeatedly. Family names are important starting from birth. Everyone is named after someone, and your namesake can be anyone – a family member, friend, infant, or parent. After a baby is born, parents wait about two weeks to tell people the child’s name, and when they announce it there is a huge ceremony to welcome the baby and give your blessings to the family. Because everyone is named after someone, it’s easy to learn Senegalese names!

The final thing you need to know about Senegalese culture is that their concept of time is completely elastic. If something is scheduled for 10:00 AM, it might not happen until 11:00 or 1:00 or 3:00. It might not happen until the next day. When this happens, it’s not a rude thing. Sometimes, other obligations get in the way, or unexpected events come up. Maybe you would have been on time, but you had to greet your neighbors on the way and someone invited you in for a glass of water, and you got to talking, and suddenly it was afternoon. Maybe your horse cart guy didn’t show up. Maybe you had to stay home and cook lunch because an extended family member stopped by unexpectedly. Punctuality isn’t valued as highly as human connection in Senegal. People spend a lot of time sitting around talking (usually about how hot it is outside), and drinking tea called Ataaya. A full serving of Ataaya comes in three rounds and can take two hours to make from start to finish. I hear that “Senegalese time” can get annoying when Volunteers are trying to schedule health work, but for now I’m just embracing my inner procrastinator and integrating as fully as possible.

That’s all I have time for in this post. For another Volunteer’s view on Senegalese culture, watch a beautiful (and award winning!) video HERE.  Please feel free to reach out with questions! I’ll be working on the five week challenge for my first month at site, so any human contact in English would be much appreciated. Thanks for reading!!

The rest of my time here has been spent in Community Based Training (CBT). During CBT, I attend daily language classes and live with a Senegalese host family. On the whole, my CBT family is a lot like my family back home. We are a small family by Senegalese standards: my father only has one wife, and they have three children (ages 14, 12, and 10). My host sisters love listening to Beyonce. My mother enjoys drinking tea and can spend the entire afternoon talking to her friends about their children. My father is a loving man with a great sense of humor. They have been hosting volunteers for years (I’m their 8th), and it shows in their patience with my lack of language and cultural knowledge. I’ve spent a total of 3 weeks with them, and I’m slowly becoming better at living in Senegal. I’m proud to say that I have mastered the bucket shower, I can now eat cleanly with my hands and I can do laundry the Senegalese way, which involves making a specific noise with your clothes while you wash them. I’ve also started learning Pulaar du Nord, a beautiful (albeit difficult) language spoken in the northern regions of Senegal.

In the last week, I also received my permanent site placement! Come May, I’ll be moving to Mbahkna, a village in northeast Senegal in the region of Matam. I was able to travel there for a few days to meet the volunteer I’m replacing and my future host family. Close to 20 people live in my compound, spanning three generations, along with donkeys, goats, chickens, and a dog. My family, like most in Mbahkna, provides for themselves as fishermen and rice farmers. I was only able to stay for about two days, but I’m really looking forward to getting to know the people and the village better during my service.

Although I’m only a month in, it’s fair to say that I’ve fallen in love with Senegal. It’s a hot, dusty, friendly, loud, diverse, beautiful country. I can’t wait to continue to share it with you all over the next two years!

I am glad that you found my blog. Over the next two years, I will use this site to try and convey the beauty and warmth of the Senegalese culture that I experience as a Peace Corps Volunteer. I cannot promise that I will accurately capture the intricacies and complexities of the country, but I can promise monthly posts with colorful pictures!

For now, I’m in Washington D.C. eagerly awaiting my training and departure. I’ve wanted to join the Peace Corps for years and I’m so excited to finally start on this journey. In case you haven’t talked to me in the last few months, here are some of the frequently asked questions I’ve received and my (very well rehearsed) answers:

1. Why did you join the Peace Corps?

I know it sounds cliché, but I want to help people! I’ve always loved volunteering and travel, and the Peace Corps provides an incredible opportunity to do both. I can’t wait to help others while immersing myself in a new country and culture. I look forward to being able to exchange information and acceptance in a brand new place, where I can hopefully make a least a tiny difference.

2. Where are you going and how long will you be there?

I’ll spend the next 27 months in Senegal (a country in Western Africa). My first three months will be spent in Thiès, where I will receive intensive language and cultural training. After that, I will get placed somewhere in the country and start my two years of service. Assuming that I don’t choose to stay for a third year, I’ll be heading home in May 2019.

3. What will you be doing there?

My official title is “Community Health Agent.” Through this role, I will serve as an educator, facilitator, and mentor alongside local health employees and teachers. The specific work varies from site to site, and I plan on tailoring my projects to the needs of my community. Based on the region and the current projects in place, I will likely be working on malaria prevention, clean water initiatives, and/or prenatal and infant health.

4. What will your amenities look like?

Just like anywhere, amenities vary throughout the country. As a health volunteer, I will likely be placed somewhere relatively rural. That means no hot water (and possibly no running water at all), no electricity, and peeing in a hole in the ground. I should be able to access the internet in major cities, but how close I am to those cities depends on the placement I receive after training. However, like many growing countries, Senegal is rapidly expanding its technological reach. Some villages don’t have electricity, but have 3G available!

5. What are you going to miss the most?

I am going to miss my dog, my family and friends, Mexican food, and reading physical copies of books. My e-reader is great, but it’s not the same as flipping real pages. And yes, that list is in order (sorry Mom).

6. What are your plans for after Peace Corps?

I would like to go back to school. Currently, I am leaning towards law school, but an MBA is not out of the picture. For now, I’m trying to focus on the incredible opportunities I’ll experience over the next two years and the joy that comes with having your plans finally fall into place.

7. How do you pack for two years?

I do not know. If you know the answer to this, please tell me. My most prized possessions are currently a solar-powered charger, 40 packs of Welch’s fruit snacks, and a lot of nice notes and pictures of home. I am bringing 77 pounds of luggage loaded into a suitcase and a backpack.

All that being said, I’m going to go back to unpacking and repacking my suitcase in the hopes that it will magically weigh ten pounds less this time. Please reach out with questions and suggestions for future posts, or just to say hello. Because I promised colorful pictures in my posts, here is an example of the beautiful traditional clothing worn daily in Senegal: