And every stop is neatly planned

I just had the pleasure of helping out with the training of the most recent Agriculture and Agroforestry Volunteers at the Peace Corps Senegal Training Center in Thies, Senegal.  It was a little over two years ago that I landed in Dakar, Senegal, was whisked to Thies and held captive in the training center until it was feasible for our training wheels to come off.  As a guest trainer the first week, I had the opportunity to relive those moments, to see Senegal and the PC Senegal team again through their eyes and it was the most refreshing beginning to the end of my time here.  As I write this post I have just over a month left in Senegal.  I can hardly believe it.  To say it has been great would be an understatement.  And honestly to try and write down in words what these past two years has meant to me is impossible.  One of the questions that I’ve been getting a lot from other Peace Corps Volunteers, friends,  family back home, and these new Peace Corps Trainees is “ How do you feel?” 

I have no idea.  I feel great because I’ve almost completed two years of my Peace Corps service in Senegal.  I feel great because I can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. I feel great knowing that going home to the gr802 to see my parents and my pets is wonderful. I feel great because I am coming away from this experience with a new perspective on life, on the world, and on myself.  I feel great because cheese and beer are within shouting distance now.  I feel great because I can drive soon again and wander around the back roads of Vermont.  But more than feeling great, I feel terrible.  I feel anxious about moving back to America and an uncertain, judgmental and sad world that I used to call home.  I feel anxious about my life post-Peace Corps, readjusting to life in the States, getting used to all the American things that I’ve lived so long without.  I feel anxious about finding a job and getting a start on the next chapter of my life.  I feel anxious about leaving my family, the Fofanas have been my one constant in my service and without them I don’t know how I am going to feel.  I am anxious about leaving my village, the community that has not only welcomed me in with open arms when I knew no Bambara and still dropped food as I ate with my right hand, but also worked and encouraged others to work to help improve food security and better their daily lives.  I feel anxious about leaving my friends here, my fellow Peace Corps volunteers are my rocks, my guide posts.  They have kept me sane and have helped me get crazy when need be.  Without them I don’t know where I would be or how I would ever have made it this far.  It is with them that I write this post, knowing that so many of us are feeling these emotions and unable to accurately describe how we actually feel about all this.  I feel anxious about leaving Senegal, the land of teranga and constant peace.  Despite feeling all the above, which can only brush the most superficial surfaces of how I actually am feeling, I realized while I was at training for these new volunteers that this is how it is supposed to be.  I am leaving, to make room for the next generation of volunteers.  They have come in, the largest group to Senegal yet, bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Ready to take on the world.  I have to come to terms with leaving and letting go, but I know that I am putting Peace Corps Senegal into the hands of a wonderful group of highly motivated, passionate individuals, and that this cycle will continue to live on and forge ahead in peace only.