Excerpts from Colleen Perry’s Letters from Dakar, Senegal:

Arriving in Dakar—feelings and sensory impressions: When I got off the plane in Dakar, Senegal, the sky was dark, almost black, with a soft orange glow at the horizon. The air was soft and thick, almost sweet smelling; and a soft mist of sweat covered my skin immediately from the wave of heat. After all of the anticipation, all of the hours and years of planning, all of the tears goodbye, and all of the fears, I was here. Despite my uncertainties, I smiled. This was where I wanted to be. However, since then, my journey has been more of an up and down experience. The first days in Senegal were a struggle amongst the heat, the jet lag, the new faces, and being surrounded by the French and Wolof languages. I had never thought I would miss speaking English! People were patient and smiled, but I felt that I would never be able to be myself in French, let alone Wolof. The air was full of voices, car horns, cat fights, and lights humming. I kept thinking, “Does it ever get quiet here?”

Feeling conspicuous: I am unable to be inconspicuous, and everyone is interested in me. So many eyes study me, so many looks bore into my bright white skin. People call, “Toubab, Toubab!” [White person] at me, or they hiss, trying to get my attention. Even my host family’s dog notices my skin color and seems to think it is ok to take a chunk out of my arm my second night with the family!

Colors and tastes: The food holds the same spice as the air. It’s enticing, and something is hidden underneath the surface. Although most of the meals consist of rice and fish, somehow the food just tastes different—a little sweeter, a little more alive. Colors, too, have come alive in a different way. I wrote in my journal: “Color here is different; deep and rich, as though everything and everyone has been soaked in it for days.”

Travel as quest: That adventurous spirit I had about Africa felt lost for a while, because I felt so unsure of myself, unsteady and distrustful of my new surroundings. I keep wondering if there will be a day when I actually feel as though I have a place here. Yet as much as I first noticed the noise and the activity, I now see a gentleness and a peace in the people that I was not able to see at first. This country has seemed to open its doors to me. The people are loud, but they are warm, and only want you to know them and their culture. I have found something beautiful in that. I think I will be able to find something beautiful in myself here as well. I think I am right where I am supposed to be: questioning life, questioning myself, questioning another world to better understand my own. This is why I came to Senegal.

Experiencing culture clash: Living in a different culture is so hard. Every minute is an adaptation to the sights, the sounds, the smells, the tastes, the spoken words, and the unspoken ones. It is physically, emotionally, and mentally trying to be surrounded by the unfamiliar. I had always assumed that some principles are universally agreed upon. When you are trying to adjust to another culture, never operate with this mindset. I learned this a little too quickly in Senegal. Soon after arriving, I was bitten by my host family’s dog; the entire family seemed to make light of the situation, and seemed upset with me when I cried. All I wanted to do was go home. I now understand that my family was not trying to be insensitive; they were just living in their culture, while I was still in mine. The Senegalese way of handling crisis is to make light of it. Their telling me that this was no big deal was their way of saying they were sorry, and I definitely did not understand that. I have also learned that tears are reserved for the very gravest of situations only; my host family could not understand crying over a dog bite--it would be like crying over spilt milk. That has continued to be something I struggle with because there are times I have had to stifle my emotions to keep from being misunderstood. That culture clash sometimes leaves me feeling disjointed and more like an outsider than a part of the culture here.

Experiencing belonging: I had a great experience during our three-week stay in Yoff. I really hit if off with my host mother there. She started wanting me to do everything with her: I helped her do the laundry, she taught me how to cook, I set the “table” (which consisted of a mat on the floor and small benches). She was teaching me to become a regular African housewife, just like a mother would for a daughter here. Having that role, helping and being part of everyday life, was such a good feeling. It was like I had a place, a regular part in the schedule; this is part of what connects me to other people. My favorite moment was when I was helping Oumou, my host mom, make some juice for a visitor. She turned to me and said “Je t’aime,” which means “I love you.” It was so unexpected; I had no idea what to say. She said it and popped out of the kitchen as if nothing had happened. My eyes began to tear up immediately. I am sure she had no idea how much that meant to me, but what a difference it made! Mattering to someone made me feel like I had become part of this new world, as though I had somehow “arrived.”

Being myself and experiencing the Other: The important lesson in all of this cultural adjustment is that I will never be able to become completely Senegalese. I have this opportunity to share in the culture, learn the language, and to “try on” the ideas of the people; but I am still American. There are some things about Senegalese culture that I absolutely hate, some things that will never become a part of me. Polygamy, for example, is something I will never feel is ok. The point is feeling the freedom to question and explore this new culture and my own. This foreign culture has already taught me so much about myself. Stripped of everything that is comfortable, shedding roles and responsibility, I have come to see myself for what I am. That view of myself and of my culture is like taking a breath, realizing a new me.