Existing...

I am no scientist. I may have received my degree in political science but let's face it, a "Bachelor of Arts" is really just a degree for learning how to think and how to tell people about what you think. Ironic that I got a degree not too long ago because I feel like everything that I believed about myself and everything that I thought I valued or believed in, has been turned on various ends during my time here. Sometimes things have ended up back where they were, and some things have moved to new and exciting locations. I am still me, but there are some things that mean a lot to me that never had a huge impact on how I lived and how I interacted with the world. Interacting with the world is never easy. I feel like many of us struggle with our place in the world, navigating the various paths, but also dealing with the realities of the environment, technology, emotions etc. So here are a few thoughts from recent.

Climate change is real and I am experiencing it first hand. I've never thought that climate change wasn't "real" or that it wasn't a big deal but I also never really thought about my impact on the climate and the impact climate has on me. I live in a part of the world where climate change is having a devastating effect on the livelihoods and the possibilities of the people and the land here. I come from a place where we are environmentally conscious; we compost, we think about where our food comes from, and we are outdoors as much as possible. But I never thought about how climate change would become a part of my life, my everyday, I never had to. In my upper middle class upbringing the most I thought, selfishly, was how our house could become beach front property in 50 years (causing the value of the house to increase three-fold). But living in Botou, being a farmer here, spending more time in the dirt and with the outside than I thought was possible, I can see now that climate change is wrecking the land here and as a byproduct the livelihoods. Rainy season is upon us (it's been about two months) and we have received 230mm of rain as of this post. We are only behind last year by 16mm so far but it has been weeks since we had a good rain. It hasn't been evenly spread out, which it seemed to have been last year, and the ground is dry. Crops are wilting, yellowing, literally dying for thirst. When we lived in Braintree, we placed the sprinkler in the garden when we needed more "rain" but water is too expensive, to precious a commodity here to do that. We wait. We complain about the heat and the humidity when the winds come, teasing us with some cool air but instead bring more stickiness and mosquitos. I can make endless jokes in Bambara about dancing and praying and singing for rain, but it's not funny. It's our life here, it's how we eat. Our work here is how we pay for the water we drink. And if there comes a time when desertification continues to worsen and the Sahel reaches further and further south, there will be even more serious problems with food security then we can even predict. So what am I doing here to help mitigate the situation? Can I even help at this point? Is it too late? Shouldn't people like Peace Corps Volunteers be working with farmers to improve the conditions they find themselves in and hope that they can escape the worst of what climate change brings? Yes. Yes we should, but it's much easier said than done, as is true of most things. I talk with farmers daily about soil conditions, rainfall, what it was like years back when the river flowed behind my village in the bush 6km and the lions roamed about. We talk about improving the soil, planting in certain areas so as to get the most nutritious soil. But it's slow. Planting trees they say, will help to increase rainfall, but this will likely only work when planting trees happens on a large scale across a large swath of land. We can plant thorny species in Banjugu's garden for his "living" fence, but those 300 trees will not bring the rains. Living, working, and talking with other volunteers, Peace Corps staff, and even some locals, we know that there are two environmental revolutions. The green one and the brown one. The green one is about crops, seeds, and plants. Changing what we grow in hope to bring about a more food secure world. Thinking more consciously about what we are putting into the ground and into our mouths. The brown revolution is about the make up of the earth. What the ground is that we are putting these seeds into. What the ground that we stand upon is made up of. Some areas are blessed with rich soils, full of micronutrients and all the potential energy one plant might wish. But so much soil here, throughout Senegal and many other parts of the world, is degraded to the point of unusable. It's simply will not help things grow. This revolution involves a great deal of knowledge and effort into putting the soil back to something that's worth growing in. And that, is certainly not easy. I never thought that climate change would bother me, make my skin crawl when it doesn't rain for 10+ days. I never knew or never thought about what it really meant for climate change to effect my life and those around me that I love. I also still don't quite know what my role is at this point. I have done the best I can as a PCV here in regards to talking with people about climate change and the soil and seeds. But I'm coming to a juncture in my life soon. I'll be returning home to a world where our gardens have their own personal sprinkler in case the rains don't fall down in Montpelier. But I sure as hell know, and believe with all my might, that ignoring climate change, being passive while it is occurring all around us, is not the way to live. Ignorance is not bliss, it is a miserable excuse to be uninvolved and dispassionate. We need to do something about our way of life, whether it be decreasing fuel emissions or planting trees. I need to believe that something good can still grow outside my hut. I need to believe that people like me are invested in the environmental future of the earth. If not, there won't be much left of the ground in a few decades.

So I wrote a post about how I was going to think during Ramadan about how I've changed. The hope here was to be able to identify these things, whether they be personality traits or values and beliefs.  And the goal was that if I felt like they were good additions, (or transitions) I could bring them back home with me. Ramadan was wonderful and all around exhausting. I think I will always think of my time fasting and being with my family here whenever Ramadan comes around in the years to come. However it was not as fruitful for figuring myself out. Maybe because of the lack of nutrients and therefore brain stimuli. Or maybe because setting myself up for figuring this out wasn't a task that could be completed with the snap of my fingers. I've had a lot of time in my head these past 22 months and counting, but more importantly than spending time in my head. I've also had the chance to meet some amazing people in Botou, and in Peace Corps (some even halfway around the world) that have challenged who I am and who I thought I was. Here are a few things that I've taken away and the kind of person I hope to be when I return.

I believe in honesty. When people trust you and you trust them, there is no reason for anything but honesty to pass between you. I don't believe in passive aggressive bullshit, life's too short and time is too precious to tiptoe around issues and avoid problems. Be honest. Be open with people you trust and people that you value and whose opinion you value. Be honest with people about yourself and most importantly be honest with yourself. I have come to understand that regret never follows with honesty.

Friends. This is a tough one, but it comes from many friendships and many friendship breakups. You can't be friends with everyone. It isn't possible and if you're being honest (see above) with yourself you don't want to be. You can be civil and polite with everyone (even Donald Trump) but you don't have to like everybody. You don't have to want everyone to like you either. It just isn't going to happen, so don't force it. But those people that give you as much as you give them in a friendship. Those are keepers. Keep them close. Accept that you won't always be living next door to them and that there won't be free calling from your phone to theirs. But keep in touch. Update them on your life (even when they don't ask) and ask them about how they are doing. Be present and be involved. If they truly are friends that matter, keep them in your life, and don't ever take them for granted.

Family. I never had a big family. Just me, mom and dad, the occasional dog and cats and chickens. I have cousins and some aunts and uncles and some grandparents for awhile. But a big family was never in the cards for me...until I came to Senegal that is. My world opened up when I became a member of the Fofana clan. I still don't have older siblings, but I have a whole parade of younger ones. I value family and what it means to have family more than anything now. But my notion of family has never been traditional.  Some of my friends are my family. Some friends have been with me when my parents could not be. Some people have stepped into my life as mother and father figures as I have moved throughout my life. My Senegalese sisters and brothers are my family. My beautiful dog back home is my family. Family is something that I always assumed was there, but never really understood what my place was in it. I was the youngest cousin, reading the four questions at Passover, and going to adult dinner parties (adult ie. 30+). I was the only child, spoiled perhaps, but loved by my parents. Now I will be moving back to my family. My biological one, yes, but also the family of people that I grew up with. My parents' friends who have known me since day one, their kids who have become my friends, the friends I made in school, and all the other people who make up my family. These people always held a special and significant place in my life, but I never knew how much their presence and effect had on me and who I have become. In Senegal family is paramount. Family is how work, fun, food, and general livelihood is organized. While this notion can't exactly be transported and used back in Vermont, I do believe that we can place a higher value on the connections we make and the people we love. I hope that i can be instrumental in bringing these values back into my life at home.  In the end, the people you knew and the people who had an effect on you (and vice versa) are the things that truly matter.