The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave

Over 24 hours of airplanes and airports and I am back in Yuba City, California. My week in Dakar was a good transition on my way back to the States and of course I already felt like I was in America once I stepped onto the plane. (Airplane food is pretty amazing, by the way!)

While in Senegal, one common conversation started like this: "Iboka Amerik? A kha di! Waree be jee!" Translation: "You're from America? America is nice! Money is there!" Sometimes I would just agree, but most of the time I would explain that there are good and bad things about America, just like any other country. Yes there is money to be made, but there are prices to be paid as well. For better or for worse, in America, families usually only consist of nuclear families with grandparents or aunts and uncles being hours or days away. In many two-parent families, both parents work, leaving the kids with some sort of caretaker. While some people are very wealthy, others live alone on the streets. We all usually spend quite a few hours each day alone or not interacting with other people, whether we are commuting to and from work, watching TV or sitting behind a computer. These are all things that are foreign to Senegal.

Then again, there are other things that are "primitive" about Senegal that are actually very important. Subsistence farming can make for a fragile lifestyle -- one bad rainy season or a sick family member can dramatically change a family's life. However, my villagers have a certain amount of control. While they buy oil and rice, they didn't have to worry too much about the price of the rest of their food since they grew it. They also knew the land, something that I think we as Americans are really missing out on. They feel the weather and know when the wind will blow. They know where their food comes from and even though they have enough, they don't take it for granted.

Just like this year was both wonderful and painful, so is being back. Springtime in Northern California is basically perfect; I am glad to be here for this season. Everything is in bloom, it is neither too hot nor too cold, both sunsets and sunrises require pause for reflection. And I have every comfort I could ever imagine. Our house is clean, with soft carpet. There is air conditioning or heat or fans or windows. I have a bed. Our house is quiet. There is clean running water, both hot and cold. There is a refrigerator and a pantry, and even more amazingly, dozens of stores with any type of food I could imagine, most of which only requires opening a package or heating some water to prepare.

But, then again, I miss spending time outside. I miss knowing the constellations and the phases of the moon. I miss the kids in my family, all 10 or 15 of them. I miss eating every meal with other people, sitting around the same bowl. I miss thinking about America from afar. I miss my Peace Corps friends.

Well, I have done quite a bit of rambling. I guess the point of this entry is that while I had conflicted feelings about being in Senegal, I still have conflicted feelings about being home. Transitions are never totally smooth though. I guess I still have to remind myself that I left in order to take advantage of the opportunities I have as an American to go back to school and become more educated -- so that I can better serve others again.