Ku Mun Muun: Be Patient and Keep Smiling

If someone right now was thinking about joining the Peace Corps and asked me what I thought, I would tell them that being a Peace Corps volunteer is no 2-year vacation, nor an easy walk through the park. As rewarding as our work can be, there are constant battles and obstacles that we are continually faced with. Our whole 2 years of service is a never-ending emotional rollercoaster. We are persistently dealing with feelings of frustration, loneliness, and stress in regards to cultural differences, adaptation to a new environment, and working with behavior change;  as well as battling homesickness.

I’m telling you all this because the past couple of weeks have been a struggle for me personally.  I would be lying if I said I was happy right now. Recently my outlook on life, as well as my work here in Senegal, has  been very unenthusiastic. I have been snappy and frustrated a lot more in village. It seems that the little things, the petty things, have just been getting under my skin. For example, I’m tired of feeling exhausted all the time, never getting a full nights rest, eating rice every day, all the bugs, the sand, the heat and sweating all day, as well as the frustrations of dealing with undependable transportation. I  don’t mean to come off whiney, and I most certainly don’t want to just sit here and complain to you all about how bad my life is here, because that is not the case! I am extremely grateful for the opportunity I have been given, and although I am living in a developing country and things are pretty rough for me, there are far more people worse off than I am. I am one of the lucky few volunteers to have electricity in village. So I don’t mean to come off seeming unappreciative of the things that I have but the truth of the matter is that life here is a constant battle and that battle is wearing on me.

 In most of my blogs I like to tell of the wonderful things that happen in village, or the great projects myself and other volunteers are working on; but I would be exaggerating if I told you that my work in village was terrific and busy, or that life with my host village and family has been pain-free and wonderful. I feel it is important for me right now to be honest in this blog entry about how I am feeling, as well as for me to tell my experience as it really is, because truthfully Peace Corps is not all selfless fulfillment or rewarding work day after day. When my family or friends back home ask me how it’s going or how I am doing, it is very difficult for me to express my feelings or to explain how life is here, because no matter how much I try it’s hard for them to really truly understand because they are not here. I don’t like telling them how I am unhappy or frustrated at times or missing home like crazy because I also want to stay strong for them and not come across as negative.  Just yesterday I tried to skype my parents and was trying to hold it together for them but after 5minutes of talking I just fell apart and wept like a big a old baby. It was a good thing Fae was here at the regional house because I was a hot mess.

Certain things about this culture are just wearing on me. In my opinion, Senegalese culture is very abrasive. From what I was taught  growing up in America, Senegalese culture can come across as offensive. People here are very much up in your face and have no problem telling you what they think. For example, they have no qualms telling you if they think you are ugly or fat, and believe me when I say that my village loves to tell me all the time how much weight I have gained here. It is also the cultural norm for people to tell women that their babies are ugly because it is superstitious to say they are beautiful for fear of God taking them away. To me, it is a culture based on negativities. Teachers tell their students they are stupid in and parents tell their children they have no usefulness. There is very little positive reinforcement ever.  However, most of the time, people say these things just for shits and giggles. Senegalese people love to have fun and are constantly joking around, but for me, calling someone fat or ugly or telling them they can’t do anything isn’t funny, it’s harmful. I grew up learning that it was mean and disrespectful to say hurtful things to people. I normally just brush these things under the table or laugh it off or just insult them right back, but after dealing with this on a constant basis for 18months, lately it has just been getting  harder and harder to brush it off or ignore it. It’s tiring and tedious.

Also, for the first time in my life, I am the minority. Every day I am singled out because of the color of my skin. I can’t go anywhere without people calling me a “”Toubab” (foreigner) or “ xonq nop” (red ears), an extremely racial term for a white person. It is something that has been an everyday constant adjustment. I can’t travel anywhere in this country without being referred to one of these two terms, and even after spending 16 months in my village, I’m stilled referred to as “Toubab,” even though everyone there knows my name is Fatou. Just the other day, I had a women in my village call me “red ears,” which was so offensive to me, but unfortunately a lot of Senegalese people do not know any better. They don’t know what racism is because they have never experienced it, nor have they learned about it. Most Senegalese people have never had the opportunity of an education, let alone the chance to leave Senegal. Due to the lack of education and experience of different cultures, the majority of the population are very ignorant and uncultured to the rest of the world. I have tried on countless occasions to explain to people in my village that calling me “toubab” or “red ears” is rude in my culture, but they  have a hard time grasping and understanding a different way of life to their own.  

Here are just a few questions that the other volunteers and I hear on a regular basis…

• “Do you have husband?” “Why don’t you have a husband?” “Will you marry me? Because I really want a white wife and to go to America”
• "Are you Japonese"
• "Hey Toubab"
• "Can you get me a visa and take me to America" "Can you take my baby to America"
• "Offer me cadeau (gift)"
• "Give me medicine"
• "Give me money, Americans are rich"
   

 I am not by any means saying that their way of living is wrong or that my culture is right, but both are just very different… and I have learned that it is tremendously difficult to adapt to a culture that is very much the opposite from the culture you are used to. And lately it has just become difficult to tolerate these differences. I can’t pin point when exactly I started feeling this way or the exact reasons for why I feel the way I do, but maybe it has to do with the fact that I have so few months left and that now that I am past the 1 year mark, it’s become like a countdown to when I get to go home.  What I am certain of is that I long for home. I miss my family and friends constantly as well as all the little things, like Sunday dinners, going for runs in the park with my dogs, going to the beach or movies with friends, even just having my regular routine back. Home sickness is the worst feeling in the world. There are times where I am in village and I start to think about home, my family or friends and how far away I am from them, and I feel so alone. I think one of the reasons why I am feeling so unhappy in Senegal at the moment is because I am homesick. It’s hard to go out day after day in village and try to be happy and put on a brave positive face, when truly all you wish is go home and have Sunday dinner with the family, and be around loved ones who know you best .

Sometimes, when things are not going right and I have to deal with people joking around with the “Toubab” and name-calling, or just giving me a hard time, I ask myself “Why am I here, what’s the point? Why put up with all this when I know perfectly well I can go home and be around people who love me?” Lately, I have been asking myself these questions a lot, and you may be wondering, “So, Jenn, why do Peace Corps? Why put yourself through the constant emotional rollercoaster of Peace Corps?”

 My answer to them is this:

·         The camaraderie amongst fellow volunteers and the long-lasting friendships.

·         All the amazing adventures. Where else would I have the chance to ride a camel in the desert or see a baby being born in a tiny local health infrastructure in the middle of nowhere.

·         The one or two people that you have helped educate whether it be about health issues or a better understanding of Americans.

·         All the bad days are just little lessons learned that can only make us stronger and help us grow  as people

·         And because no matter how many bad days you’ve had, those few good days, no matter how small they seem, are the ones you will remember in the long run!

I have come so far and know that all the sweat , work, tears and laughs will be well worth it in the long run. I want to especially Thank my Auntie Lorna and my friend Fae Patton for helping me remember that it is okay to feel unhappy and alone but that I also have people I can turn to! Thank you Auntie Lorna for the great advice and helping me to remember why I wanted to be a Peace Corps volunteer! And to Fae, thanks for being an amazing friend and a great shoulder to cry on (I owe u beer for having to put up with all my bitching)!

 I now leave you all with an inspirational poem, that I personally find helpful to give me that kick in the ass to get up and face the challenges each day brings:

  Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul

William Ernest Henley