Why We Are Here

Saturday, November 14

I’ll admit that over the course of this two month training, there have been times when I have asked myself “Why am I here.” Or more precisely “What the f**k am I doing here?”

The Paris happened. And I am beginning to understand. Sure, I am here in Senegal to share my agricultural experience and skills to make growing easier and more sustainable for farmers and urban gardeners. That’s good in and of itself. But now I understand that there is more to it. 

As we have read over the several hours, one purpose of these horrific terrorist attacks is to drive a wedge between the west and moderate Islam--to reduce the world to a stark black and white--to make all westerners hate and fear all Muslims.  (In that regard they seem to be walking in step with some of our own jingoistic pundits and politicians.) But today it hit me that in a small way I am here to counter that hateful aim. Senegal is a nation that is 90% Muslim (and all whom I have met have been accepting, generous, and kind.) While here, I can play a small role in fostering civility, understanding and genuine friendship between, in this case, a long-lapsed Catholic and the Muslims I meet every day—in gardening classes, seed exchanges, at the market or just passing in the street.

There is a certain personal symmetry at work here. Nearly 45 years ago I declined to be drafted into the U.S. “War Corps,” and here I am now, in Senegal doing finally doing my alternate service (or should I say opposite service) in the Peace Corps, sowing the seeds of peace in small person-to-person exchanges. It feels right.

The content of this blog do not reflect the thoughts, philosophy or beliefs of the U.S. Peace Corps. The opinions are those of the author alone.

Good Vibrations

0ctober 21 Wednesday

It turned out to be a good day today even though I woke up feeling a bit sleep- deprived and had some stomach issues throughout the day. I started the day by watering the garden. It would have been nice to have a hose, but carrying watering cans for a half hour was not the worst thing. It reminded me of those quiet and peaceful early mornings watering the plants in the nursery where I worked in Vermont. I had a pretty good Wolof session with Sidy. He was very positive about my recitation. After lunch of ceebujen I took a short nap then had my room cleaned. Atta insisted that I lay in bed as she and the kids swept and scrubbed the floor. It really needed it. Then I went off to the cyber café. I still couldn’t get on his WiFi but did manage to send a couple of emails on his desktop machine. He also had found my missing water bottle. That was good. I had to rush home to take care of some digestive business, but found my clean-and-pressed laundry waiting for me. I feared it had been ruined by the pack of cigars found in the pocket after they went into the wash water. (Everything is washed and scrubbed by hand in big tubs on the patio, then hung out there to dry.) I’m supposed to do my own laundry, according the Peace Corps, but my family won’t hear of it.

When I came back from the garden at the end of the day I told my Senegal mom that I was feeling a bit feebar and pointed to my stomach. She asked it if was something I ate. I didn’t want her to think it was caused by her cooking so I mentioned that “Café touba la naan ci marse.” (I had a café touba in the market.) “No!” she said. “Don’t eat anything on the street. If you want a café touba or anything else you tell me and I will make it.” My dad reiterated at dinner. (Very nice of them, but  I still want to try the town’s one and only restaurant.)

File that under: life is irony. I remember how I used to complain that Lauren wanted to eat out at night and telling her that I was just as happy to cook and eat in all the time. Watch out what you wish for. Another bald statement exposed for what it was. But tonight we had a treat, something like beef stew, and a very peppery stew at that. It was delicious. It was the first time we’ve had red meat here with the exception of the occasional spam.

The content of this blog do not reflect the thoughts, philosophy or beliefs of the U.S. Peace Corps. The opinions are those of the author alone.