By popular (albeit surprising) demand, I am submitting one final entry to my Africa blog.
I returned to America on April 1 and have subsequently eaten my way back around the world from the comfort of home:) I have overindulged in the amazing family, friends and food in my life over the last three months (though not necessarily in that order)!
My social life feels a bit like the movie Groundhog Day without the budding romance at the end:). I have had a similar version of the same conversation several times over, and never get tired of telling people about my life in Senegal.
I know, it's surprising, but life there has gone on without me! Thiewal Lao has received a new volunteer, Kelly, who I got to meet briefly before I came home. She seems to be doing an amazing job and I wish her the absolute best of luck! You can follow her blog at www.SeneKel.blogspot.com to see how the health poste and other projects progress.
I finished my Peace Corps service in an incredible place. I had achieved a defined goal. I was proud of what I learned and the manner in which I learned it. I met some incredible people with whom I will remain friends long after our experience. I was coming home to THREE nieces. And I was excited for my next big adventure for so many reasons, not excluding access to running water this time around!
That's right, I am writing this blog post from my new apartment in Pittsburgh, PA. Less than a week ago Mama P and I loaded up a rental minivan and drove 17 hours from Lincoln, NE to the home of the industrial revolution so I can start grad school at Carnegie Mellon University in the Fall! I must add that she was a very good sport about the whole thing!! I will be starting a Masters of Public Policy and Management program with a concentration in International Affairs in August. I will spend the second year of the program in Washington DC working in an apprenticeship - cross your fingers that they want me on Capitol Hill!! I wouldn't be here without Peace Corps and I will keep you all posted if I am resentful of that in a few months:)
Since I've been home I became a Godparent, took a road trip with my Mom, watched one of my best friends graduate Medical School, celebrated birthdays, weddings and baptisms and have fully committed myself to reversing my hair loss! Bring on the broccoli!
I get emotional every time I think about the support I received while I was overseas. I remain astonished and touched at the number of family, friends and even strangers who read my blog and can even quote from it!
But now I'm back and safe and mostly healthy. I'm glad I did it and glad it's done!
I wish you all the very best for the future!
THANKS again!
Maggie
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Closure... Sort of
The health poste in Thiewal Lao is not yet open. Additionally, the health poste in Thiewal Lao will not be open during my Peace Corps service. I have accepted this. It doesn't make me especially happy, but I have come to terms with losing out on this particular Kodak moment.
A Ministry of Health-appointed nurse will be assigned to Thiewal Lao this year. I know this. 15 community health volunteers are trained and ready to do health education outreach. The poste has a trained midwife, pharmacy tech and a functional Health Committee; all of whom are desperately protective and proud of the new facility. For these reasons I can leave Senegal with confidence that two years of work will not be wasted.
But despite some very dedicated self-convincing, there was still a sliver of my heart that was missing sufficient closure on a project that has ruled my life for the past two years. A project that in all reality, no matter how much I tried to phrase it otherwise, was not finished.
Last week I got my closure.
As you might imagine, we don't get a lot of traffic out in my part of the middle of nowhere. So when a fully equipped mobile medical van rolls into town, it tends to make quite a stir. Even the toubab (that's me) was running to stare at the spectacle.
Last week Dr. Gregoire Sar and his team of three doctors and three nurses came to Thiewal Lao to perform free HIV tests, do basic medical exams and give vouchers for a follow up at the health poste in Dabo in three months (if the Thiewal Lao health poste isn't open yet, that is). This alone would have been incredible. But it gets better. Instead of seeing patients one-by-one in the mobile medical van parked in front of the health poste, they spread out, set up their supplies and used EVERY ROOM in the health poste! We don't yet have shelves and chairs and exam tables so people hurriedly brought wood benches, the doctors laid out the diagnostic testing supplies on butcher paper taped to the ground and after three hours they had to turn people away with promise of return. 91 people were examined. Every one of them was thankful... for the facility.
That's the thing. I wasn't so much touched by the excitement to be treated, but for the access to the treatment. It's a small difference, but it is my whole world at the moment. You see, in three hours I was reassured I have done my job. I brought people to the facility. My purpose was to provide sustainable access to medical services and ensure that people use them. And they are. They will. My replacement will have an incredible and overwhelming amount of work to do to educate and positively change the behavior of the surrounding population in many health related areas of daily life. My job was to set up the infrastructure to do just that and it is entirely possible that I did.
Now I'm not saying in any way, shape or form that it wouldn't have been an absolute once-in-a-lifetime moment to have had the health poste open a year ago and hand over the reigns to my replacement to a fully functional rural medical facility with established classes and outreach programs and financial profit... but that sounds a little greedy at this point. When I leave village in seven days the last thing I will pass, perhaps all too symbolically, is the health poste. The point is that it will be there for a heck of a lot longer. It will open. And even though I didn't get to see patients waiting to see the Thiewal Lao doctor, I saw them flock to see a doctor. And for now that may be enough.
A Ministry of Health-appointed nurse will be assigned to Thiewal Lao this year. I know this. 15 community health volunteers are trained and ready to do health education outreach. The poste has a trained midwife, pharmacy tech and a functional Health Committee; all of whom are desperately protective and proud of the new facility. For these reasons I can leave Senegal with confidence that two years of work will not be wasted.
But despite some very dedicated self-convincing, there was still a sliver of my heart that was missing sufficient closure on a project that has ruled my life for the past two years. A project that in all reality, no matter how much I tried to phrase it otherwise, was not finished.
Last week I got my closure.
As you might imagine, we don't get a lot of traffic out in my part of the middle of nowhere. So when a fully equipped mobile medical van rolls into town, it tends to make quite a stir. Even the toubab (that's me) was running to stare at the spectacle.
Last week Dr. Gregoire Sar and his team of three doctors and three nurses came to Thiewal Lao to perform free HIV tests, do basic medical exams and give vouchers for a follow up at the health poste in Dabo in three months (if the Thiewal Lao health poste isn't open yet, that is). This alone would have been incredible. But it gets better. Instead of seeing patients one-by-one in the mobile medical van parked in front of the health poste, they spread out, set up their supplies and used EVERY ROOM in the health poste! We don't yet have shelves and chairs and exam tables so people hurriedly brought wood benches, the doctors laid out the diagnostic testing supplies on butcher paper taped to the ground and after three hours they had to turn people away with promise of return. 91 people were examined. Every one of them was thankful... for the facility.
That's the thing. I wasn't so much touched by the excitement to be treated, but for the access to the treatment. It's a small difference, but it is my whole world at the moment. You see, in three hours I was reassured I have done my job. I brought people to the facility. My purpose was to provide sustainable access to medical services and ensure that people use them. And they are. They will. My replacement will have an incredible and overwhelming amount of work to do to educate and positively change the behavior of the surrounding population in many health related areas of daily life. My job was to set up the infrastructure to do just that and it is entirely possible that I did.
Now I'm not saying in any way, shape or form that it wouldn't have been an absolute once-in-a-lifetime moment to have had the health poste open a year ago and hand over the reigns to my replacement to a fully functional rural medical facility with established classes and outreach programs and financial profit... but that sounds a little greedy at this point. When I leave village in seven days the last thing I will pass, perhaps all too symbolically, is the health poste. The point is that it will be there for a heck of a lot longer. It will open. And even though I didn't get to see patients waiting to see the Thiewal Lao doctor, I saw them flock to see a doctor. And for now that may be enough.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Don't Blink
For months I have been receiving reports. Like the Loch Ness Monster, there had been unprece-dented sightings between Kolda and Velingara, a distance too vast to legitimize the claims. He had stealthily eluded my earnest pursuance... until now!You see, there is a man with a green push-cart who, like the Ice Cream Man in America, lets you know he's coming by squeezing his clown horn. He travels with his cart throughout the region to weekly markets along the Route Nationale highway selling ice cream cones! That's right. The front of his cart has stacks and stacks of tiny cones like the ones Diary Queen keeps on hand for small children, spoiled pets and hungry employees. And on the top of this cart is one tiny hinged door which houses and equally small container of pink, yellow and green swirled ice cream. It is magical - and until last Saturday, I thought it was also just make-believe.
But it is real. It is also cold. It is nothing more than glorified ice milk, but, Oh, it is glorious. I have no idea how he keeps it cold, transports his cart or where he got his start. But I'm buyin' what he's sellin' and hopin' he is willing to consider franchising!
I had spotted him in Dabo, my road town, on Saturday morning as the weekly market was setting up, but I no more than blinked and I lost him in the shuffle. I was sure he was gone forever, but just as I was heading out to go back to village, he rounded a corner and set up shop under the last tree on the edge of town - DESTINY! I paid him my 50 CFA, strongly considered taking a picture of my petite cone and enjoyed every moment of coldness.
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Man in the Mirror
Several months ago elections were held throughout Senegal. Following the campaigns, newly-elected officials held annual budget planning meetings (called PLD, Planification Locale de Development). These meetings are long, drawn-out, rarely productive and have no real impact on the actions or spending of the government.
During this same election cycle, the Communitaire Rurale is chosen within each commune. The Communitaire Rurale is sort of like a capital city only on a much smaller scale. The villages are chosen by the President of Senegal without ever visiting the area, and is usually based on where he has family throughout the country, not strategic, facts-based decisions.
The former and current Communitaire Rurale of the commune of Dabo (my road town) is Dialembere. Dialembere is located on the very edge of the boundary of the commune, has no health poste and is where the President's cousin coincidentally lives. Geographically it makes no sense for Dialembere to be the Communitaire Rurale. So this year my village, geographically located in the middle of the commune, with a health poste in the process of completion and the full support of nearly every village in the commune, actively campaigned and petitioned to be elected the Communitaire Rurale. Not surprisingly, Dialembere retained its title and my village was and is STILL not happy.
So when the newly-elected President of the Communitaire Rurale came to my village to facilitate the mandatory PLD one month after elections, he was met with hostility, no cooperation and finally left without so much as formally beginning the meeting.
The people in this country have so few options to stand up for themselves. Particularly a village deep in the bush whose population is largely illiterate and poor. Not only did they stand up for themselves, but continue to do so today, months after elections were finished. I was incredibly proud of their determination and character. We all knew nothing would change, but they were making a statement.
And now it is being used against them.
A refusal to do the annual PLD meeting means that that village forfeits its status as a recognized village essentially. It can't receive any government money. This is usually not a big deal because government funds rarely make it out to the people for whom it is intended. But we are building a health poste. It is a medical facility that, once completed, will and must be supported by the Ministry of Health to pay salaries. So now, the big cheese Medical Man in Kolda is threatening my village that he will not support the health poste until my village gives in, says they are sorry for protesting the assignment of Dialembere as Communitaire Rurale and agree to do the PLD.
Here are just a few of my concerns:
1. The PLD doesn't really even matter. Even if they do comply, the meeting will be a disaster and my village will be slighted in their rightful alllocation of funds (that won't ever be seen anyway).
2. If they threaten my village with withholding the funds for the doctor's salary before he has even arrived, what's to say they won't threaten them with the exact same thing whenever they want something from my villagers or any of the villages in the commune for that matter?!
3. The President of the Communitaire Rurale is a bad man. He is greedy and untrustworthy and vengeful. My village is very leery of him and for good reason. If my village was to agree to their terms and let him facilitate the PLD, he would make them beg. And I am sure that one of two things would happen: 1. My head would explode or 2. I would hit him. Hard.
As you can see, I am in a very difficult position. I was basically given an ultimatum to pass on to my village: give in or give up the health poste. And I struggled for almost a week before I got the courage and conviction to even tell them the problem, let alone make a suggestion. I was having serious moral and ethical concerns. The reality is that they should probably just give in, play by the book and be quiet because no matter how long they hold out, it is only hurting them. The likelihood that anything tangibly positive will come from this is beyond unlikely. But how could I possibly advise them to give up? Who am I to say that their protest is not worth it? And since when do I ever do anything the easy way?!
When I finally called a meeting to discuss the concerns, I was literally shaking. I kept my sunglasses on the whole time even though we were in the shade so they wouldn't notice me constantly glancing at my trembling hands. I talked them through the entire situation and at the end, when they asked me my opinion, I apologized before telling them to give up. I secretly hated myself.
And then they changed my entire world.
They asked if I might be able to set a meeting with the head of the Ministry of Health in Kolda. THEY wanted to speak with him! Are you serious?!?!? This is a culture known around the world as non-confrontational and suddenly an illiterate, powerless, informal group of farmers felt it was appropriate to knock some sense into one of Senegal's elite medical professionals... I LOVED IT! Absolutely!
I don't know why I ever doubted them. They have been the most honest, respectable people throughout this whole process. Now, I recognize that I am going to have to lie to get this meeting set up - this is a man who could not possibly lower himself to speak with villagers. And I recognize that IF I can set up the meeting, he will be irate when the six of us show up. And I also recognize that if he doesn't throw us out in the first five minutes, we may piss him off royally and ruin any future opportunity for compromise.
But they want to use their voice. They want to explain their position. They want ownership of this project and control of their own destinies. And I certainly can't advise them against that. It is possible that this health poste will not open during my service, if at all. This is a reality I am loosely accepting. But if and when it does, it will have been done the RIGHT way. It will have been a group effort marked by honesty and determination. I no longer feel guilty for telling them to give in - I think it was my obligation. And it is my pleasure to help them do the exact opposite.
During this same election cycle, the Communitaire Rurale is chosen within each commune. The Communitaire Rurale is sort of like a capital city only on a much smaller scale. The villages are chosen by the President of Senegal without ever visiting the area, and is usually based on where he has family throughout the country, not strategic, facts-based decisions.
The former and current Communitaire Rurale of the commune of Dabo (my road town) is Dialembere. Dialembere is located on the very edge of the boundary of the commune, has no health poste and is where the President's cousin coincidentally lives. Geographically it makes no sense for Dialembere to be the Communitaire Rurale. So this year my village, geographically located in the middle of the commune, with a health poste in the process of completion and the full support of nearly every village in the commune, actively campaigned and petitioned to be elected the Communitaire Rurale. Not surprisingly, Dialembere retained its title and my village was and is STILL not happy.
So when the newly-elected President of the Communitaire Rurale came to my village to facilitate the mandatory PLD one month after elections, he was met with hostility, no cooperation and finally left without so much as formally beginning the meeting.
The people in this country have so few options to stand up for themselves. Particularly a village deep in the bush whose population is largely illiterate and poor. Not only did they stand up for themselves, but continue to do so today, months after elections were finished. I was incredibly proud of their determination and character. We all knew nothing would change, but they were making a statement.
And now it is being used against them.
A refusal to do the annual PLD meeting means that that village forfeits its status as a recognized village essentially. It can't receive any government money. This is usually not a big deal because government funds rarely make it out to the people for whom it is intended. But we are building a health poste. It is a medical facility that, once completed, will and must be supported by the Ministry of Health to pay salaries. So now, the big cheese Medical Man in Kolda is threatening my village that he will not support the health poste until my village gives in, says they are sorry for protesting the assignment of Dialembere as Communitaire Rurale and agree to do the PLD.
Here are just a few of my concerns:
1. The PLD doesn't really even matter. Even if they do comply, the meeting will be a disaster and my village will be slighted in their rightful alllocation of funds (that won't ever be seen anyway).
2. If they threaten my village with withholding the funds for the doctor's salary before he has even arrived, what's to say they won't threaten them with the exact same thing whenever they want something from my villagers or any of the villages in the commune for that matter?!
3. The President of the Communitaire Rurale is a bad man. He is greedy and untrustworthy and vengeful. My village is very leery of him and for good reason. If my village was to agree to their terms and let him facilitate the PLD, he would make them beg. And I am sure that one of two things would happen: 1. My head would explode or 2. I would hit him. Hard.
As you can see, I am in a very difficult position. I was basically given an ultimatum to pass on to my village: give in or give up the health poste. And I struggled for almost a week before I got the courage and conviction to even tell them the problem, let alone make a suggestion. I was having serious moral and ethical concerns. The reality is that they should probably just give in, play by the book and be quiet because no matter how long they hold out, it is only hurting them. The likelihood that anything tangibly positive will come from this is beyond unlikely. But how could I possibly advise them to give up? Who am I to say that their protest is not worth it? And since when do I ever do anything the easy way?!
When I finally called a meeting to discuss the concerns, I was literally shaking. I kept my sunglasses on the whole time even though we were in the shade so they wouldn't notice me constantly glancing at my trembling hands. I talked them through the entire situation and at the end, when they asked me my opinion, I apologized before telling them to give up. I secretly hated myself.
And then they changed my entire world.
They asked if I might be able to set a meeting with the head of the Ministry of Health in Kolda. THEY wanted to speak with him! Are you serious?!?!? This is a culture known around the world as non-confrontational and suddenly an illiterate, powerless, informal group of farmers felt it was appropriate to knock some sense into one of Senegal's elite medical professionals... I LOVED IT! Absolutely!
I don't know why I ever doubted them. They have been the most honest, respectable people throughout this whole process. Now, I recognize that I am going to have to lie to get this meeting set up - this is a man who could not possibly lower himself to speak with villagers. And I recognize that IF I can set up the meeting, he will be irate when the six of us show up. And I also recognize that if he doesn't throw us out in the first five minutes, we may piss him off royally and ruin any future opportunity for compromise.
But they want to use their voice. They want to explain their position. They want ownership of this project and control of their own destinies. And I certainly can't advise them against that. It is possible that this health poste will not open during my service, if at all. This is a reality I am loosely accepting. But if and when it does, it will have been done the RIGHT way. It will have been a group effort marked by honesty and determination. I no longer feel guilty for telling them to give in - I think it was my obligation. And it is my pleasure to help them do the exact opposite.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Third Time's the Charm
There is a well-documented and equally well accepted phenomenon known as "Africa Time". What it means is that people are free to be late, hours late, with hardly any acknowledgment, let alone consequence. As you might imagine, this drives me batty! You see, I inherited a genetic disorder from my mother in which I am always at least 10 minutes early - can't help it, and I get flustered when I am not. Being exposed to Africa Time has perhaps in some small way relaxed my obsession, and it has certainly forced me to find ways to deal with it.
Since the very first meeting I held in my village I have had a rule that I will wait one hour for people to show up. If they don't arrive within that window, I will not be mad (most of the time), but I will also not wait any longer. I am happy to reschedule the meeting, training or whatever it is another day, but the opportunity for that day is gone.
For 20 months in village, I was not let down once.
But that all blew up in my face two weeks ago when I tried to hold a training for the health extension workers that will work at the health post when it is finished. Not once, but twice I waited one hour and not once, but twice only half of them showed. They were mystified when I eventually got angry - not at their tardiness, but their lack of commitment.
(Please allow me to stand on my soapbox for a moment). The likelihood of this facility failing is astronomical. More than half of all health postes in this country are non-functional. The other half only stay open because NGOs pump money into them. Even if we manage to get it open, fully stocked and supported by the government, corruption, greed, poor economy and disinterest are all factors that WILL close it down in no time. If these people are not 1304957890% committed to fighting for this thing everyday, it will not last. And I only have four months left in this country. I have a very short amount of time to prepare these people and I absolutely don't have time to reschedule the same training three times.
There, I'm done. Stepping off my box now.
So I told them if they organized a training on their own and told me about it I would come, wait one hour and if it happened a third time I would no longer work with them (which was a TOTAL bluff). But it worked.
Two days later, everyone was present within 15 minutes of the set start time. We had an amazing training. They participated. They understood. My pulaar was awesome. They understood my pulaar. And we had a very honest talk about their responsibilities. Which they totally accepted. The only way I could have been more thrilled is if it'd happened the first time.
So we have come to an understanding. I made my point. I only cursed Africa Time four or five (hundred) times and said the Serenity Prayer about 49587 times more than that. I'm still working on the serenity part. Whether this thing opens, and whether it remains open is out of my hands at this point. But it is reassuring to know that they understand its success is within theirs.
Since the very first meeting I held in my village I have had a rule that I will wait one hour for people to show up. If they don't arrive within that window, I will not be mad (most of the time), but I will also not wait any longer. I am happy to reschedule the meeting, training or whatever it is another day, but the opportunity for that day is gone.
For 20 months in village, I was not let down once.
But that all blew up in my face two weeks ago when I tried to hold a training for the health extension workers that will work at the health post when it is finished. Not once, but twice I waited one hour and not once, but twice only half of them showed. They were mystified when I eventually got angry - not at their tardiness, but their lack of commitment.
(Please allow me to stand on my soapbox for a moment). The likelihood of this facility failing is astronomical. More than half of all health postes in this country are non-functional. The other half only stay open because NGOs pump money into them. Even if we manage to get it open, fully stocked and supported by the government, corruption, greed, poor economy and disinterest are all factors that WILL close it down in no time. If these people are not 1304957890% committed to fighting for this thing everyday, it will not last. And I only have four months left in this country. I have a very short amount of time to prepare these people and I absolutely don't have time to reschedule the same training three times.
There, I'm done. Stepping off my box now.
So I told them if they organized a training on their own and told me about it I would come, wait one hour and if it happened a third time I would no longer work with them (which was a TOTAL bluff). But it worked.
Two days later, everyone was present within 15 minutes of the set start time. We had an amazing training. They participated. They understood. My pulaar was awesome. They understood my pulaar. And we had a very honest talk about their responsibilities. Which they totally accepted. The only way I could have been more thrilled is if it'd happened the first time.
So we have come to an understanding. I made my point. I only cursed Africa Time four or five (hundred) times and said the Serenity Prayer about 49587 times more than that. I'm still working on the serenity part. Whether this thing opens, and whether it remains open is out of my hands at this point. But it is reassuring to know that they understand its success is within theirs.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Let's Get Some Perspective
The heat we experience in this country is unreal. For most of the year I can't brush my teeth without working up a full sweat. But Senegal is entering the "cold season." I have been sleeping in sweatpants and a hoodie. In just a few weeks we will be able to see our breath in the morning and I will have to take my bucket bath before dark or it will just be too cold.
My closest neighbor told me that the other day she woke up in the morning and was so cold that she rushed to put on socks and shoes. She then glanced at the thermometer on her wall which proclaimed the current temperature was... 77 DEGREES! She laughed out loud.
That's right, we are practically rendered immobile by a 77 degree morning. In our defense, that is a solid 30-40 degrees cooler that what we are used to. If it dropped from 80 to 40 degrees in Lincoln, I imagine there'd be some complaining... Last year I went home for Christmas in a blizzard. How I survived the temperature shock is still baffling. It all goes to show that the human body is incredible, Africa is hot and everything is relative.
My closest neighbor told me that the other day she woke up in the morning and was so cold that she rushed to put on socks and shoes. She then glanced at the thermometer on her wall which proclaimed the current temperature was... 77 DEGREES! She laughed out loud.
That's right, we are practically rendered immobile by a 77 degree morning. In our defense, that is a solid 30-40 degrees cooler that what we are used to. If it dropped from 80 to 40 degrees in Lincoln, I imagine there'd be some complaining... Last year I went home for Christmas in a blizzard. How I survived the temperature shock is still baffling. It all goes to show that the human body is incredible, Africa is hot and everything is relative.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Add It to the List
I make lists. I make a lot of lists. I have been known to rewrite lists to make them look better and I will even admit to writing a task down on a list for nothing more than the satisfaction of then, immediately, crossing it off. Lists keep me sane. And post-its make it all possible.
I have carried over my compulsion for list making into the Peace Corps... some may even say it has escalated. Several shapes, sizes and colors of post-its made the trip with me to Senegal and they have served me well thus far (despite decreased stickiness due to unhealthy amounts of humidity and heat). I continue to color code and compartmentalize my life here.
Most of my friends and family back home have come to accept and embrace my affinity for and addiction to my planner, post-it combo. It took my new friends here some getting used to, but I think they too have come to accept it for fear of what I would be like without it:)
But the secret is out... now even my villagers have noticed!!
There is a man in my village named Ibrahima Balde. He works at the village level disbursing scholarships to kids at the elementary school through World Vision. He is educated, can read and write in French and he is even able to write in fairly impressive English. He is one of my main go-to guys, always helpful and very astute.
The other day I happened to be walking into my hut to grab something when I heard my name being called. I turned around to find Ibrahima charging up as though he was a man on a mission. I got excited. It was then that he pulled from his pocket a partially used, single stack of yellow sticky notes. For me. He was almost giddy with pride. And I was utterly confused. Had I missed something in translation?
Nope. Somewhere, at some point, Ibrahima came across a stack of post-its and wouldn't you know it? He thought of me! I am sure he was in Kolda at the World Vision offices or in my road town at the health poste and asked if he could have the random, lonely stack sitting on someones desk. But he knew that I would love them - and I do. I remain slightly alarmed at the transparency and predictability of my habits (I suppose that's why they're habits). However, it was also incredibly refreshing to have been here long enough and to be good enough friends with someone for them to instantly think of me when presented with office supplies (the true way to my heart - oh, how I miss Office Depot!).
I have carried over my compulsion for list making into the Peace Corps... some may even say it has escalated. Several shapes, sizes and colors of post-its made the trip with me to Senegal and they have served me well thus far (despite decreased stickiness due to unhealthy amounts of humidity and heat). I continue to color code and compartmentalize my life here.
Most of my friends and family back home have come to accept and embrace my affinity for and addiction to my planner, post-it combo. It took my new friends here some getting used to, but I think they too have come to accept it for fear of what I would be like without it:)
But the secret is out... now even my villagers have noticed!!
There is a man in my village named Ibrahima Balde. He works at the village level disbursing scholarships to kids at the elementary school through World Vision. He is educated, can read and write in French and he is even able to write in fairly impressive English. He is one of my main go-to guys, always helpful and very astute.
The other day I happened to be walking into my hut to grab something when I heard my name being called. I turned around to find Ibrahima charging up as though he was a man on a mission. I got excited. It was then that he pulled from his pocket a partially used, single stack of yellow sticky notes. For me. He was almost giddy with pride. And I was utterly confused. Had I missed something in translation?
Nope. Somewhere, at some point, Ibrahima came across a stack of post-its and wouldn't you know it? He thought of me! I am sure he was in Kolda at the World Vision offices or in my road town at the health poste and asked if he could have the random, lonely stack sitting on someones desk. But he knew that I would love them - and I do. I remain slightly alarmed at the transparency and predictability of my habits (I suppose that's why they're habits). However, it was also incredibly refreshing to have been here long enough and to be good enough friends with someone for them to instantly think of me when presented with office supplies (the true way to my heart - oh, how I miss Office Depot!).
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