Project Updates - Making Work Happen

It’s a strange time in my life right now. Many volunteers experience a variety of emotions when they get near the end of their time in village, and I can’t say that I am any different.

I am dreading leaving my host family and the other people in my village with whom I’ve become so close. I’m excited to transition back to a more connected world where I can have electricity, access to news, some basic amenities, etc. on a regular basis. And honestly, I’m scared because transitioning out of this life is going to be a major shock to the system.

A lot of volunteers also start to experience a lack of motivation as they get close to the end. You just want to spend all of your time hanging out with your friends in village drinking tea and relaxing. I’m certainly in the period where I am trying to transition my involvement 100% over to the people of my community so that they can continue on. My women’s group just planted new vegetables with very little help from me, my health workers are taking over control of our health hut, and we just finished a great renovation project of said hut.

Outside view of entrance

Front view from inside the garden

The health hut renovation project was a major accomplishment of my service! This project was something my counterpart, Sadio Ba, had discussed with the volunteer in my site previously, but they didn’t have the chance to get it off the ground. With grant money from an organization called World Connect and funds that had been set aside from the health hut itself, we embarked on a project to make our health hut more structurally suitable.

Some of the aspects of the project were super simple – ex. We changed the locks on all of the doors so that they could actually be locked with keys and not chains/padlocks. But we also gave the entire health hut a new paint job, patched a leaky roof, fixed the wall where it had caved in and raised it a few brick levels, installed a new door to the entrance, painted health murals, and modified the maternity room so that it’s actually suitable for births.

New door

Getting cement on the roof to patch the leaks

Taping off the paint borders - like I
would trust anyone else with that job...

Getting fancy!

My counterparts taking an active role

Our painter

Fatou, our village birthing attendant and one of my favorite
people in village! The door says "Maternity Room" in Pulaar

Our modified birthing table

Malaria mural courtesy of PCVs!

The health hut in Sare Aladji was built in 2003, and since that time had never been renovated. This was a big step in making the health hut a better facility for the community! I personally learned a lot about project management, especially in a culture where things don’t work the same as what I know. My community counterparts were great and took a lot of ownership in the project as well!

And of course, those of you that know me well know that slowing down is not one of my strong attributes… So though I just wrapped up this large project and have only a few months left at site, I’ve just begun another project to dig a well in my village!

Access to water is a constant struggle here. In my village of ~700 people, we only have 3 wells. We have a series of faucets that have been installed and are connected to a water tower in a village about 6 kilometers away. However, the faucets have been dysfunctional since July, and even when working turn off sporadically. So wells are crucial to our water security, and thus I decided to write a grant and bring another well to my site! Thanks to Water Charity, a USA-based NGO that funds water projects, my well is already underway.

Drawing the well circumference

Digging!

One shameless plug – Water Charity. in order to speed up the grant process, funds projects in full once they approve your application. They then ask you as the PCV to help fundraise to replenish the funds they provided for your project. Thus see below for the link to donate to my project on their website!

http://watercharity.com/sare-aladji-well-project-senegal

I can only imagine that my blog posts will get sappier and more emotional in the coming months, so bear with me. From the girl who cries at holiday Folgers commercials, I expect leaving my village to become a very emotional experience haha.

Thanks for reading! Peace & love,

Lindsay

A Mosquito Problem

Malaria. I’m guessing this is one of those diseases you’ve heard of. You know it impacts many people all over the world, especially in sub-Saharan Africa, but you probably don’t have any personal experience with it.

I was in that same boat until I came to Senegal. My first rainy season in village was relatively mild, and as a result my community kept telling me that cases of malaria were way down from normal levels. I had no comparison, so I took their word for it. Then, this most recent rainy season (about July – October), I finally realized what they meant.

My health hut serves mainly my village of about 700 people. In the month of September we had 43 cases of malaria, October 55, and November 73. SEVENTY-THREE! To say that malaria is a problem here is a gross understatement, and Senegal has one of the lowest rates among sub-Saharan African countries thanks to many of the interventions present here.

Collection of malaria tests at the health hut

View of our health hut log

Thankfully, many of the people in my village have started to seek out a malaria test & receive treatment before the case gets severe, in part due to the work that my health workers and I have done to sensitize people in the village. Yet Malaria is still the #1 cause of death in Senegal. Around the world, malaria still kills more than 1 million people each year, and over 90% of these deaths occur in Africa. Jeffrey Sachs, one of the leading economists helping to fight against poverty, estimates that malaria costs Africa around $12Billion in lost productivity each year as a result of people missing work.

Sadio Ba in his typical window perch at our health hut, waiting for patients

All of these statistics are shocking, yet sometimes it still feels like the work we do is just a drop in the bucket of a much larger problem. And THEN, people in your family get malaria. When my sister-in-law Oumou got malaria for the 3^rd time this rainy season, or my younger brother Mahamadou had to miss school because he got malaria, it became personal. The statistics are shocking, and the personal impact on my host family is heart wrenching. For these reasons, malaria work is a major focus of my Peace Corps service and I try to approach it in a variety of activities!

Hosting informational talks and events in my village is a wonderful way to get people together to learn information from the health workers. At the beginning of rainy season, we hosted a net care & repair event so that people could pull out their dusty mosquito nets and get them ready for malaria season.

My host mom washing her mosquito net!

My health club continues to be one of my favorite activities in village and a great way to disseminate important health information to kids. We recently started up again now that school has reopened, and our first activity was to make dream banners. The kids drew 5 mini-banners: family, favorite activity, self-portrait, something they want to try, and future profession. They string these up and then hang them inside their mosquito nets to have sweet dreams about their futures while safely protected from mosquitoes!

Dream Banners! (Taking this photo was a ridiculous amount of work...)

Also, during my service, Peace Corps Senegal created a malaria committee called Stomp Senegal to inspire and motivate more PCVs in Senegal to participate in malaria work. I was fortunate to serve as the regional representative when the committee was first formed, and then 6 months later was voted in as President of this committee. One of the things that our committee recently did was organize a series of mini-boot camp trainings where volunteers brought counterparts in to the regional capital and received an updated and intensive malaria training. I was fortunate to come with Sadio Ba, my main work counterpart!

Sadio Ba & I creating a malaria action plan for our village!

A malaria mural painted at my health hut thanks to
PCVs Lianna, Brian, Dario, & Devin (I helped a little too!)

All of this work and the malaria work being done by volunteers all over Senegal are making a huge impact on the malaria burden here. We have a lofty goal to reach pre-elimination in Senegal by 2018, but with hard work, community integration, and the continued support of NGO’s and programs from around the world, this can be a reality.  

Thanks for reading!

Peace & love, Lindsay

Journey to a “Better” Life

This blog post has been on my mind for quite some time but I’ve been struggling to find the best way to talk about the issue. I’m still not sure I will be as eloquent as I would like, but I’m going to try.

Growing up in the USA, references to immigration, or “illegal immigration” as its typically called in the media, usually relate to people coming into the USA from either Mexico or countries in South/Central America. For me, whether due to naïveté or just lack of exposure, this was really my entire viewpoint of immigration. So when I arrived in Senegal and started to truly understand my surroundings, I was surprised to find that there is such a pervasive immigration movement in West Africa, mainly to Western Europe.

I would venture that every single person in my village of approx. 700 could name at least 1 person living in Spain, France, or Italy. They could probably also give you a list of people they know currently on their way.

I’ve struggled my entire Peace Corps service thus far trying to decide how I feel about this issue of immigration. I’ve circulated through different feelings of the people leaving Senegal as selfish or reckless or lazy. But the day illegal immigration became personal for me I realized that, at the base of it all, it’s usually about HOPE.

One day in mid-January 2015, my host cousin Iboudabou (E-boo-da-boo), left his village and family to begin the long journey to Italy. He left in the cover of darkness, telling only his mother that he was leaving for fear (and probably the reality) that his older brothers would force him to stay. Iboudabou is around 16 years old and was enrolled in school and performing really well when he quit to make the journey. 

Iboudabou (far right) with his older brother Hamay (left) & friend

It scared my entire family when we found out he had left, and our lengthy greetings have now been amended to regularly ask if anyone has news from him. In the beginning days of his trip, Iboudabou would often call my other host cousin Tidiane to give updates on his whereabouts. Tidiane would then come over & I would pull out the world map in the back of my planner and we would map out his route. Tambacounda, Senegal – Bamako, Mali – Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso – Agadez, Niger – Sabha, Libya – Tripoli, Libya

Iboudabou's brothers (Lamine & Tidiane) & his mom with my parents

Frequent radio reports of boats of migrants, mainly from West Africa, sinking on the trip to Italy and killing almost everyone aboard gave us reason for concern. Therefore, Iboudabou has paused his journey and is currently working in Tripoli, Libya, still hoping to make the journey across water soon.

He is just one of many people in my area of Senegal who are currently on the trail or leaving village to try and search for a better life. There is so much hope. Yet as someone who is blessed to live what I think all of the Senegalese would view as a “better life”, I tend to have a more cynical view.

My host brother's baby, Amadou

Most of the Senegalese migrants, if they do make it to Western Europe, will end up as low-paid laborers - washing dishes, driving cabs, selling wares on the streets - living together with other people from Senegal to drive down costs in the hopes of sending as much money back home as possible. And the pressure from family back home can be unbearable. That family likely does not understand the substantial increase in cost of living in places like Madrid or Paris, and thus don’t understand when you don’t send them millions of cfa (the Senegalese currency) every month or don’t have any money to send them when asked. They live without getting to see their families until they are fortunate enough to receive official residency documentation, and even then can only afford to come back for visits every 2-3 years. My oldest host brother lives in Spain and has 5 children with his wife. His wife and children all live in my compound, including his 9-month-old son who was conceived on his last visit back, & whom he won’t see for at least another year.

These are some of the challenges faced by those trying to provide better lives for their families. But these challenges only get to be faced if they stay in the country upon arrival. If you’ve been following any of the immigration-related news in the EU recently, the EU is experiencing unprecedented numbers of immigrants to places all over, to such a capacity that they will not be able to handle all of the people. Many possibilities are being discussed for how to handle this immigration issue, but what is fairly certain is that not all groups will be treated equally. Those considered “refugees”, fleeing persecution of some kind and seeking safety, will likely be considered differently from those considered “migrants”. The Senegalese fall into this latter category – they are not fleeing persecution of any kind, but rather are economic migrants in search of a better financial situation. If 2 immigrants are caught and only 1 can stay, I believe the migrant will get sent home every time. It’s in these thoughts that this issue feels personal to me now, thinking of my cousin Iboudabou and the risks he is taking with his life for the life of others, just to potentially get turned back at the entrance to the promised land.

Needless to say, I understand (as best as I possibly can) the desire these people have to make better lives for themselves. But as I said, I also struggle with the way those lives are being sought. Senegal is still very much lacking economically, and I often think what could happen to the development of this country if people stopped leaving to try and make money in other places, and instead focused their efforts on making Senegal itself more productive from the inside.

Take, for example, the solar panel my family has on the roof of our building thanks to my host brother in Spain/host uncle in France. It’s great that we have a solar panel, but the light bulbs available for purchase in this country are of such shoddy quality that often the light produced is still so meager is hardly seems useful. Money sent back to Senegal from those living abroad accounts for 12% of Senegal’s GDP (Wall Street Journal – see link below)!  That doesn’t even include the material goods sent back, but sometimes the infrastructure here is so weak that it can’t support those goods anyway. And how will that infrastructure improve if Senegal’s young & motivated are so disappointed with the opportunities in their own country that they flock to other places in search of a better life?

I, of course, don’t have answers to this question, but I think this is one of the biggest challenges facing Senegal as it strives to become a developed nation. It is certainly an issue that every Peace Corps volunteer is familiar with here whether personally or anecdotally. I am moved by the hope these migrants have and their unwavering belief that God will deliver for them, but wrestle with the thought that Senegal will never truly develop if it keeps hemorrhaging people. 

Back in early June, an article was published in the Wall Street Journal about this particular issue in Senegal. The article actually focuses on a town in the region where I live and provides many more anecdotes & pictures. The path they illustrate is almost identical to that traveled by my cousin. If this interests you, please check it out here – http://www.wsj.com/articles/young-men-in-senegal-join-migrant-wave-despite-growing-prosperity-at-home-1434127244

I’ve never had such a personal connection to immigration before, but I am fearful every time I hear my cousin Iboudabou’s name whispered in hushed tones, anticipating the worst news possible. For now, he is safe & on the trail for his better life. Pray for his safety and the safety of all the others like him.

Iboudabou & his younger brother Ousman

Thanks for reading.

Peace & love,

Lindsay

Ramadan Year #2

Ramadan is the time of year that most volunteers try to flee site, if possible, for vacation, meetings, or anything that will allow them to hide from the effects of fasting. This year, the beginning of Ramadan happened to sync up with my visit from Jessica & Jake. They were present for the first night of prayer when the crescent moon appeared to signal the start of the month, one of my favorite days in village. To give them a true cultural experience, we woke at 4:30am the next morning to eat breakfast with my family as they began their fast before we headed off to Dakar to leave for our trip to South Africa.

Naturally, after fasting that first day, I chose not to continue fasting while on vacation in SA. After that weeklong trip, I returned to Senegal alone and had training at our Peace Corps Center. As the days ticked on, the fasting loomed closer. Of course my family had already been fasting for 2 weeks by the time I got back, but I jumped right in and fasted the next 13 days in a row – no food or water from sun-up to sun-down. 

He looks cute but he can be a terror!

On my first day back in village, I biked in from our regional capital and was instantly greeted by a storm of children in my house. One kid in particular, Siddif, always yells my name and then follows me around for a bit when I get back. He watched me carry by bag to my room, move my bike into my backyard, and fill my bucket with water so I could take a shower. However, he wasn’t interested in me taking a shower. I set the bucket down in my room and Siddif proceeded to tell me to follow him so we could go play (Keep in mind that he is 2 ½ so talking is still somewhat interpretive). I told him I wanted to shower first and we could play later. He refused with a big “uhhuh”, walked across the room, picked up my bucket, and dumped the water all over my floor. Welcome back to village.

The aftermath of the bucket incident.

The days that followed were filled with a lot of reading, afternoon naps, and communal break-fasts around 7:30pm when the sun goes down. 

Bread, tea, and water - our traditional meal to break the fast

Some work was done, but most people tone down their activities during the month of Ramadan. This year, though, the start of raining season also coincided with the start of Ramadan. What that meant is that many of the men in the village had to go into the fields and prep them for planting, exhausting work when you’re not eating or drinking! This tenacity and the optimism displayed throughout all of it amaze me.

My brother, Alfa, hard at work even while fasting

As the month winded down, preparation for the much-anticipated Korite celebration began. The women in my compound spent DAYS getting their hair braided. I was a pro this year and managed to tape the design and put the henna on my feet all by myself, which impressed a lot of people!

Yes, that's fire... they burn off the "wisps" of hair that stick up after braiding is complete. It's terrifying to watch.
And my awesome henna. That's "WK" for "Weli Kande".

On the night that the moon appeared to signify the end of Ramadan, the kids went crazy as always! On this day each year, something as close to Halloween as you could find here occurs. Each household prepares snacks of pounded millet/sugar balls (the consistency of a no-bake cookie and surprisingly tasty) to give out to the children. The kids run around the village in large groups singing songs and demanding this snack or small change. There is one last mass prayer session at the mosque that night, and then in the morning the holiday begins.

Trick or Treat! Ok so not the same thing but the activity feels similar minus the costumes...

Everyone eats breakfast, finally at a normal hour, and then puts on their finest clothes for the morning prayer session. They gather in an open spot in the village and are led in prayer by the Imam (my host father/chief of the village).

The morning prayer in village 

Side story for a moment – at a recent end-of-year cultural celebration at the middle school near my village, the school administration and a few teachers surprised me with a gift. They presented me with a very traditional complet to thank me for all the work I had done with the school the past year. This gift was a huge sign of respect, so though I felt I looked like a certain singing purple dinosaur when I put it on, I decided to briefly show it off for my village that morning.

While everyone was gathered to pray, I went to my room and donned the outfit. I peeked out of my room cautiously, honestly hoping no one would comment at all, but was instantly called out by one of the kids in my house. I spent the next 30 minutes having my outfit admired by literally everyone since they all had to walk past our house to go back home after the prayer session. It’s a great reminder that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, because something Lindsay Swisher would never wear is exactly the kind of thing that Weli Kande puts on to awe her village. 

My neighbor, Fatou, & me - Check out those threads!

And best of all, that day, we got to drink tea & eat real lunch in the middle of the afternoon, what after a month of Ramadan is surely one of life’s simple pleasures.

Thanks for reading. Peace & love,

Lindsay

The Difference of 10 Kilometers: A Guest Blog Post by Jake & Jessica Swisher-Zimmerman

Lindsay here - Most of you know that I was fortunate to have my sister & brother-in-law come visit me here in Senegal right after my trip home to the USA. We spent about 2 weeks together in my village and then traveled to Cape Town, South Africa for a week before Jessica & Jake continued on their whirlwind trip. (Jake was traveling as a part of a fellowship to gain more cultural understanding and use that to make the classroom more vivid for his high school students).


While visiting, they talked to me about the concept of "the single story". For more on the idea of the single story, watch this Ted Talk by Chimamanda Adichie -

http://www.ted.com/talks/chimamanda_adichie_the_danger_of_a_single_story?language=en


Read below for their wonderful thoughts. More to come from me soon!


Jessica & Jake:


What a difference 10k makes. I’m not talking about a 10k race I might run on a Saturday morning. In this case, 10k refers to the way 10k disrupts the idea of a single story about people and their culture.


As I’ve mentioned before, the single story is the idea that people (myself included) often have a limited understanding and knowledge of other people. As a result, we use this limited perspective to describe all people and their cultures as one thing – or our single story. For example, a man I was talking with earlier in my trip thought that because I was from Michigan, that I must own a boat. One of the main purposes of this travel experience was to confront the single stories many of my students and I have constructed about people and their cultures based upon our often limited existing knowledge.


One area of the world that I think suffers the most from the single story is that of Africa. To begin, many people – often without really thinking about it – describe Africa as if it were a single country rather than a continent with 54 countries and somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,500 -2,000 spoken languages. It was not until I got here that I really began to understand that vast complexity that is the many stories of people living on the African continent. In fact, 10 kilometers within the same country was enough to tell two very different stories.


My time in Africa began in Senegal. I stayed in the village of Saare Aladji, population 600. The village happens to be about 10k south of a city called Tambacounda, population 78,000. Visiting just one, however, would provide a pretty incomplete picture of how people in this area live. To begin, the facilities are much different. The village has no electricity or running water, while Tamba (as it is known) has both. Housing is also much different. In the village people live in huts, while in Tamba people live mainly in freestanding concrete buildings. The food is also different. I ate a dish called cheb, which is rice cooked in oil, in both the village and the city. It was vastly different as the pictures below show.





Cheb in the village. Pretty plain, although sometimes it had a few veggies.





Cheb I had in Tamba. It has chicken, eggs, veggies, and many spices. This was served at Mr. Sy’s house. He was the principal of a local middle school I visited. This meal was amazing.





Jessica, Mr. Sy, and I at his home. He lives in Tamba and has electricity, running water, and flushing toilets at his home.





Tamba has a radio station (with air conditioning!!). We were on an English language radio talkshow hosted by Mr. Sy.


Even something like measuring wealth – which we might think would be pretty universal within 10k – was different. In the city, wealth was generally measured using money. In the village, one’s wealth was largely gauged by the head of cattle owned. The chief of Saare Aladji had the most cattle and therefore was the wealthiest man in the village.





Cattle in the village. They were free to roam about during the day.


Beyond the tangibles, the village and the city had different sounds. I spent the night in each place. Each morning in the village, I would wake up to the sound of woman rhythmically pounding grain and animals welcoming the sunlight. It was pretty great. In Tamba the morning was marked by the sound of car engines and people making their way to work or school. 10k really makes a different.


After spending a couple weeks in Senegal, my travels took to me Cape Town, South Africa. Here again, the single story was set to rest within about 10k. Like Senegal, Cape Town is a beautiful place (more on South Africa in a later post) and also has a history which includes colonialism. While Senegal was colonized by the French, South Africa was colonized first by the Dutch and later by the British. Although the system of Apartheid (which means the “state of being apart”) has been was abolished in 1994 it has cast a long shadow.





View of Cape Town from atop Table Mountain. This is very near Camps Bay where I stayed.





View from the cable car at Table Mountain. We walked up and then took the cable car down. Even at the top of the mountain everything was pretty pristine.


I stayed in an area just outside of Cape Town called Camps Bay. It was very developed and modern and right on the Atlantic Ocean. The views were stunning. If you had closed your eyes and been dropped here, you could easily think you were in Europe. It’s semi-upscale restaurants, spas, and shops catered to people with money. Just 10k away were some of the Townships, or neighborhoods. It was a much different story here. Housing was mainly corrugated steel shacks whose construction seemed to have been completed in a quick fashion to accommodate people needing to move there (due to a resettlement law during apartheid that forced people of color to move out of the city). The townships had electricity and were connected to Cape Town’s sewage system, but that had only occurred in the post-apartheid years.





View of a township.







Shack living area in one of the Townships.



More than anything was the stark difference that race played. Most all of the people who worked in Camps Bay were black, while the people living and visiting were white. The townships, in comparison, had no white people that I saw. This all goes back to Apartheid and the designating of some areas as “white” and other “black.” Although we are 20-years removed from Apartheid, 10k plays a sadly all to familiar tune.


More broadly, Senegal and South Africa are much different, but often get lumped into being “Africa.” Senegal is developing and making good strides (Their official economic development program is called “Senegal, Emergent.” There are billboards all over Dakar promoting it.). Yet, the most upscale area of the capital city Dakar is about the same in terms of infrastructure as a lower-middle end of Cape Town. Politically, the two are quite different. Senegal is socially conservative, while South Africa is proud to tell visitors it has one of the most progressive constitutions in the world. Senegal is heavily Muslim, while South Africa has a majority Christian population. While in Senegal, I heard French, Wolof, and Pulaar being spoken; in South Africa it was English, Afrikaans, and Zulu.


Africa, and the whole world, is such an amazingly diverse place. Limiting it to a single story doesn’t do justice to its richness. It is such an incredible experience to travel and see how unique people and places are…even when they are only 10k apart!

"Not all those who wander are lost." - J.R.R. Tolkien

I have to admit I am WAY overdue for a blog post. The truth is, I’ve had such an amazing time traveling and catching up with friends & family since the end of May that this has fallen to the bottom of my list.

At the end of May (thanks to many frequent flier miles I had managed to accumulate) I was able to take a two-week vacation from Senegal to head home to the USA. I couldn’t believe 15 months had already passed since I’d gotten on that first plane to start my Peace Corps service.

Many volunteers go home for visits during their service, and so there are many stories about that “moment” when, after living in Senegal for an extended period, you get so overwhelmed and have a minor breakdown. For some it’s a mall or grocery store, but for me it happened right in the Washington DC Dulles airport. I thought for sure that wouldn’t happen to me, but the second I got through airport customs I found myself overwhelmed with feelings of good fortune based on the fact that this one airport is nicer than almost any place I had seen in Senegal in those 15 months. And just like that, the waterworks started. What a mess!

Reunited with Mom, Dad, and my best friend Anna

But after that, my two-week vacation was filled with catch-ups with friends & family, great meals, great beer, one open-house, one weekend at the lake, and one African-animal themed party (thanks Justin!). I tried to see as many people as possible, but I know I didn’t get to see everyone. Still, I was moved by the countless numbers of people who went out of their way to see me, hug me, provide me a bed to crash on, etc. It was such a fast trip, but it was an incredible reminder of how lucky I am to have all of you in my life!

Sharing Laughs

Friend gathering in Chicago!

And after two weeks in the USA, I was excited to head back to Senegal! I was worried that I would dread going back, but honestly, I missed my host family and felt anticipation to get back to the work I had waiting for me in village. Luckily for me, I was also coming back with visitors!

The day I arrived back in Senegal, I landed at about 6am, and my brother-in-law Jake Zimmerman landed at about midnight. He has been traveling as part of the DeMaso International Fellowship (www.zimaroundtheworld.com) since the beginning of May, so we actually missed each other while I was home in the USA. We spent a few days seeing the sites around Dakar including the African Renaissance statue and the Pink Lake before meeting up with my sister Jessica!

Once the 3 of us were reunited, it was off to the region of Tambacounda to spend almost two weeks in my village. No matter how tough village life can be at times, there is nothing like coming back after a long-ish break and being greeted by chants of “Weli Kande! Weli’s back!”

We spent the next two weeks exploring village life and working on some of my Peace Corps projects. Jessica & Jake, renamed Binta & Alfa Kande for their village stay, were a BIG hit! We attended class & a cultural ceremony at my middle school, held an end-of-year party for my health club, conducted a baby weighing at my health hut, did a garden out-planting with my gardening group, and went on the Tamba English radio program. 

Health Club Graduation

Of course we fit some fun in there too – milking cows, pulling water from the well, riding Senegalese public transportation, experiencing the first rain of the season, and getting up at 4:30am for breakfast on the first day of Ramadan. It was an incredibly jam-packed two weeks, and I am so lucky my visitors were up for anything!

Just like when my parents came to visit, it is always wonderful for me to have visitors that remind me of my impressions of village life when I first got there. I am so used to the lifestyle now that sometimes I forget my first impressions. Of course, visitors also spoil me too, so after our two weeks we are now in South Africa for a week before Jessica & Jake head to India and I go home to Senegal.

Cape Town, South Africa with Jessica & Jake

It’s been a magical 6 weeks of travel and good fortune. Since my Peace Corps service started, there’s always been one realization that has stood out for me, and my visitors had the same thought. We truly won the life lottery. No one knows why I was born in the USA and others were born in Senegal or other places around the world, why I was born into a loving family with parents who valued my education & support my dreams and others were not, why I am surrounded by friends & family who continue to inspire me everyday when the same may not be the case for others. It’s just the way things turned out.  But one thing is for certain – we are lucky. We won the life lottery in so many ways. It may not always feel like it, but I ask you to reflect on how lucky you truly are. That’s what this entire experience has done for me, and I hope it can do the same for you.

Thanks for reading. Peace & love,

Lindsay

A Letter to My Mosquito Net

In honor of World Malaria Day, April 25, 2015, and all of the great work that Peace Corps volunteers around the world are doing to help defeat malaria:

Dear Mosquito Net,

I can’t believe it’s already been over a year since we met! I must admit, before we met I’d heard some things I wasn’t sure I liked – you’re too hot, you give people skin rashes, you’re ugly… But right from the start, we became very close friends.

Yes, it’s true that you can be a bit stifling, but it really doesn’t compare to the 100+F temperatures brought on by that Senegalese sun, and I’ve never had issues with skin rashes. As for being ugly, I can’t speak for others, but the first night I slept under you it was like I was a princess in one of those white flowy beds you see in the movies. There is just something magical about you.

            That probably stems from the fact that you are one of the best ways to prevent malaria if used correctly every night. Malaria is still one of the biggest health problems in Senegal, a country where the entire population is at risk of malaria (World Health Organization). As of 2012, we were still experiencing 59 malaria-related deaths for every 100,000 people (WHO). Countless organizations and government entities like the Senegal National Malaria Control Program and the USA President’s Malaria Initiative are working tirelessly to protect Senegal from malaria. And mosquito net, with your help and the help of your 1 billion other friends that have been given out in Africa since 2000 (Malaria No More), we are well on our way to defeating malaria.

            I know it’s not an easy task but you seem up to the challenge. You’ve only had a few minor slip-ups, like that time you let a mouse in while I was sleeping, or those earwigs that somehow find their way in periodically. But, you’ve kept out countless other critters, and the night a bat came in my hut and started banging against my door, I felt safe knowing you were with me.

            You’ve been scratched up more than a few times, mainly by that platform of sticks that I call a bed, but I do my best to keep you in shape. I sew up your cuts when you’re hurt, and after seeing how much dirt came off you the first time I washed you, I’ve made sure to wash you every few months.

            I promise to keep doing these things for the next year as long as you keep shielding all of my friends and me from malaria. Thanks for always being there for me. You’re a lifesaver, literally!

Your Senegal Peace Corps Volunteer,

Lindsay

Educating school kids about malaria!

Thanks for reading! Peace & love,

Lindsay