Senegal: The Best Diet You'll Never Go On

I have always felt inferior to those who, when working out, get those obnoxious, gynormous sweat rings, or have the ability sweat through a shirt in its entirety. Back in the States, I felt like no matter how hard I exercised whether it be running, aerobics, lifting weights, it didn’t matter, I could never walk out of the gym - not even Husker Power - with what I felt was enough evidence of my effort (I am going on the record as fully admitting my sick need to compete in every facet of life – I can’t help it).

Nonetheless, since my arrival in Senegal, I have found it impossible to not sweat… all the time. I have successfully worked up a full-on, drops-running-down-the-side-of-my-face sweat in doing nothing more than brushing my teeth. They say that the body’s internal temperature rises slightly after eating while the body is digesting, and in Senegal, you can actually feel the increase.

Approximately two weeks ago I started jogging very short distances early in the mornings before the sun is even thinking about being really hot. And approximately two weeks ago I discovered that I, too, have the ability to sweat through a shirt in its entirety. I have been in Senegal for more than three months now, and, to date, have knocked off 25 pounds. Now, don’t go getting alarmed. I am neither starving, malnourished, hating the food or in any way unhealthy. It has been a gradual, surprising and altogether unintentional process mostly the result of snack food being more than an hour bike ride away through the busch, and the ability to actually prepare food for myself more than 70k away. It makes 8pm ice cream runs 6 blocks away to the grocery store seem light years ago.

And all things being equal, I argue that anyone who sweats this much deserves to see some results. I currently have a friend who is kicking butt and taking names with Weight Watchers back home - totally proud of him and his efforts. But I submit that my 25 pounds have been the 25 easiest pounds to lose, and have no doubt that, upon my return home, will also be the easiest 25 pounds to gain. So while I am having fun with this whole clothes are too big, new me thing, I wouldn’t recommend buying a one-way ticket just yet. Enjoy some ice cream for me and embrace the air conditioning while you’ve got it. If you need me, I will be here… sweating and loving it!

SCORE!

Current Score:
Senegal: 374 Me: 1
To keep in the spirit of the national sport of Senegal, soccer, I confess that there are moments of every day in which I feel like my Peace Corps experience is a bit of a shut-out; like I am a lone opponent against the entire force of the Senegalese National Team. Don’t get me wrong, I am so glad to be here. I am learning lots and getting excited about the work I will soon begin. But everything is difficult and everything takes a considerable amount of effort. It is easy, on a bad day, to feel defeated.

But last week I launched a ball from midfield and sank it into the top right corner of the GOAL. Score one for me. For more than a month I have wanted a bookshelf for my hut – nothing fancy, just a place to put things, off the floor. The second week in my village I had asked the local “handy man” in my village to make one for me; a task I thought reasonable. Upon completion, I was not impressed, kindly did not accept the product and continued wanting a shelf. I was even willing (and against all faith from my villagers) even able to build it for myself. But just finding the necessary materials for such a project is an undertaking. So until this point I had admitted defeat.

Then last week, I woke up at about 1am (you should know I sleep outside my hut in my backyard) and just knew a storm was about to hit. You could just feel it. I literally shot up, grabbed my pillow, sheet and alarm clock in one fell swoop and ran into my hut. I barely cleared the door when the rains and winds blew through like a freight train. It was an amazing display of nature – and not being used to the nature here yet, it scared the living daylights out of me. Needless to say, I was unable to fall asleep for the next three hours.

So I read for awhile. And then I cleaned for awhile. And then I realized that I REALLY wanted that bookshelf. So with the cardboard box which I used to transport my books and binders to Thiewal Lao, some plastic rope and duct tape (there really are 1000 uses for duct tape), I fashioned a hanging bookshelf. It is not pretty. It may not last more than a few weeks. But it is a place to put things. And I made it, by candlelight, in a fit of anxiety at 2am during my first encounter with Senegal nature, and I think it is pretty freaking amazing!

And so it is the small things that make this long, hard, really incredible experience possible. It is the hanging bookshelves in life that make all the difference at 2am when nothing else can calm your nerves. And it is the people in your life who whole-heartedly appreciate the inner beauty of your totally horrendous creation that remind you that two years is only two years when you’ve got some place to put your things.