I'm beginning to understand that no matter where you go, studying abroad is exhausting. And anyone who knows anything about the school system here, or even the general Senegalese nonchalant view on deadlines or timelines knows that it is not necessarily the "studying" that is tiring.
It is waking up each morning and knowing right then that I have to decide, once again, how much effort I am going to put into this day. I began this journey knowing that I was choosing a path that involved much more of a culture shock and a rockier transition than many other study abroad options. Even so, after a month and a half here, I am still realizing that there are several opportunities within each day when I must make the decision whether I am going to coast or commit.
It would be easy to coast through the next two and a half months. I could spend the majority of my time with my friends, sharing only meals and quick conversations in French with my host family. I could be the American that all of my neighbors expect me to be, and pass them by as I walk to school.
But where is the fun in that?
One of the highlights of my day is my mile-long walk to and from school. As I approach people in the street, and just as they are ready to dismiss me as a "tourist", I watch their faces as I stop, shake hands, and greet them in Wolof. Although much of the time, I feel they are disappointed when they soon realize that my knowledge of the language is limited to polite salutations, I absolutely love knowing that to this person at least, I am not just another "Toubab".
I don't want to allow myself to coast through this semester. I want to learn how to make Ceeb u Jen, master the technique of pouring Ataaya, and be able to communicate with my family in Wolof. I want to commit to spending this semester not caring whether I spill half the pot of tea or sound ridiculous trying to form Wolof sentences, because at the end of the semester, I am going to take away so much more than just a few African souvenirs.
No comments:
Post a Comment