I live in a country where it’s possible to go anywhere and have a place to stay. Eight people on my program went to eight different rural villages to stay for eight days each, and if I wanted to visit any one of them I would feel comfortable calling any of those people and asking.
I travelled through the Gambia and upon leaving called my aunt in Kaolack (in the middle of the work day); she picked me up at the station and lodged me like a queen. I wanted to see that branch of my family before leaving.
This morning I said goodbye to Miriam/Nala, the six-year-old who made me feel comfortable in my house the first night (and who “taught me to wash dishes”).
This afternoon I made my last drive *into Dakar*.
I have four days left to go to the markets, speak in Wolof, see the people I know, and spend time with my host family.
This whole “leaving” thing is really a bit much for me.
At this point I am resigned to the fact that I’m going. I may not have come to terms with it yet, but I’ve accepted it. There are things that I miss (just don’t ask what they are because apart from people I’m not sure that I remember what they are), so I’m trying to look forward to the good parts.
I am sensible enough and intelligent enough to recognize that as much as my time here has been good, I could not stay here longer unless I were to have more of a life here. More studies, a job, more SÃ©nÃ©galese friends… I’ve been getting restless since the program ended (apart from the travel time), and I am grateful that I have had the down time to be restless and less busy/integrated.
Anyhow. Onward, and…upward??