Filed under: Village Life
The journey leading to my glorious two-week vacation in the States starts out early in the morning on Day 1. I strap my backpack onto a flat backed wooden charrette, pulled by a very skinny horse, then I jump up and take my seat, holding on to the backpack, as I’m taken across town from my family’s house in Kanel to the garage, where I will eventually catch an Alham to the town of Ourossogei, an hour to the west.
Only a few minutes after arriving at the garage my Alham leaves. This is record time. Sometimes I have to wait hours, or sometimes we never leave at all. Upon arrival, I plunge into the Ourossogei garage, an extremely confusing and much larger version of Kanel’s transit spot. I’ll have to find another car to Ndioum as I slowly make my way west. The trip will take about five hours. I haggle with the apprentice about the price my ticket and take my seat on Alham #2 of the day. And we’re off, navigating the potholed roads of RN 2. After a few minutes, I notice the panicked bleating of a captive sheep just above my head. I immediately inspect the ceiling above me, ensuring that there are no holes, so if the sheep does have to pee, it won’t drip all over me as it has those three times before. I’m lucky. Either the sheep doesn’t pee, or there are no pesky ceiling holes because I escape Alahm #2 five hours later free of sheep urine.
In Ndioum, I try to find a charrette in the market to take me to the Peace Corps regional house, but this time I’m not so lucky. It is about three in the afternoon, the paralyzing heat has started, and no one wants to take poor me, burdened with bags to the other end of town. So I buy a bag of water and I walk, arriving 20 minutes later, dehydrated and exhausted. Ndioum is a nice stopping place on my journey. I sweat perpetually in the stifling heat as Day 1 turns into Day 2.
Day 2 begins with a brisk morning walk to the road from the regional house, bags in hand (or, on back, as it were). I flag down a Dakar bound bus rather easily and settle in to a nice comfortable seat next to a sweet elderly Pulaar lady who tells me she sells fabric. Lots of pondering happens on long bus trips, which is kind of nice. On this particular trip I think about things like the fact that Senegal is well-known for its incredible variety of birds. I always found it interesting that these birds, who have the freedom to fly anywhere they’d like, have decided to land and make Senegal their home, while most of the people here are scheming about how to leave it. Maybe those birds can see something we’re missing.
Ten hours later I arrive in Dakar. The next two days are a blur of cab rides, office visits (have to print ticket, obtain WHO card with vaccination record, and get more malaria meds), and market trips for gifts.
This next part I’ll recount speculatively because I haven’t experienced it yet. At around 11 pm on Day 5 of travel, I’ll take yet another cab to Leopold Sedar Senghor International Airport, where my flight will leave at about 1:30 in the morning (Insh’allah). I’ll arrive at Washington Dulles in the wee hours of the morning, get my luggage and then recheck it to prepare for the final domestic flight to Charlotte, where I’ll be greeted by my dear mother, wearing a bright blue Carolina Panthers hat because she’s afraid I won’t see her in the crowd otherwise.
There it is….one charette ride, two Alhams, a twenty-minute desert trek, a cross-country bus trip, and countless taxis… all the steps I have to take to get to you.
I miss you guys, see you soon!
<3
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And I know the traveling was well worth it, wasn’t it!! And remember, you said on 5/12/10 that you were READY,when the time came,to go BACK to Senegal because, after all, it is your true home for now — they are waiting for you also! Lots of love to you
Comment by Your fans M & D May 15, 2010 @ 4:52 pm