Ba beneen yoon, Senegal

And...it's my last post in Senegal. I leave in less than seven hours to return the United States, and I'm pretty sure that this is the most anxious I've been since I arrived in Senegal. The room and house that I have called my home the last four months has been stripped of all my possessions - which are all wrangled in two large suitcases - and I am at a loss for what to do. I've been restless the past three days and I'm ready to simply apparate home and bypass saying goodbye to my family and friends here. Although in fact, I might as well be apparating - you step on board a plane and nine hours later, you have left everything behind and you are in a utterly different world. I have gotten to the point where I have realized how completely exhausting the last semester has been - I'm constantly on guard and on edge - every moment I am awake I am on display, I am being watched, I am being tested on my understanding both of the language(s) and cultural understanding.

I can't wait to go home, but I'm realizing that for every positive there is a potential caveat. Being able to understand the conversations around me will be a nice novelty, but will it simply overwhelm me? I can't wait to eat American food, but the thought of not eating yassa poulet around the bowl again is difficult. I look forward to the day when I won't be stared at and harassed for the color of my skin, but I am also sad that I will not longer receive the usual "nanga def?" from my favorite guard on the way to school.

I'm still processing my experience here. There are things that I love about Senegal. There are things I absolutely detest about Senegal. I think that I have possibly learned more about America than about Senegal itself during the time I have passed here. I never used to think of myself of having a great love of country, and still instinctively recoil from expressing it, but everyday I have been here, I have thought about how lucky I am to be American. I can leave the country whenever I want, I can go basically anywhere in the world. I don't have to defer to men - I can look them in the eyes and shake their hands. I don't have to get married if I don't want to. I can throw my garbage in a trashcan when I walk down the street. I can go to class in the morning without having to get up hours before to gain room in the classroom with thousands of other students. I can breathe clean air.

But it's more than that. I don't like the attitude that many who look at the African continent adopt, the idea that countries in Africa are somehow a boost for our own self esteem, a benchmark by which we can judge our own prosperity. It certainly gives one a different perspective to come to a developing city like Dakar, but I have always been aware that I was the one who chose to come to Senegal, that I am the student here. I am so thankful to have the means to be able to come and learn and live for a short while in a place that few Americans are able to go. I am thankful to have been welcomed into a community and a family who has taken care of me and taught me so much. I am thankful to have made friends who have been the greatest source of support and laughter.

And thus with two and a half hours left before I leave for the airport, before I start my journey back to the United States and the inevitable culture shock that comes with it, I say goodbye to Senegal. I will shake the hands of the host family with my left hand, not the customary right, so I will have to return to correct my mistake. In Wolof, there isn't a word for goodbye. The closest is "ba beneen yoon"- until the next time. So, ba beneen yoon, Senegal. A la prochaine fois, ba ci kanam, leegi leegi...I'll be back someday, inch'allah.