Excerpts from Jenny Miller's Letters Home:

I didn’t know that the Senegalese people would be some of the most giving individuals that I’ve ever met, no matter how little they have. I didn’t know that how the beggar children would smile and laugh as if their cans were filled to the brims. I didn’t know that the thought of bread and Nutella spread would make my mouth water. I didn’t know that I’d get used to the water dripping from my forehead into my eyes or that my nose had the ability to adapt. I didn’t know how patient my family would be as I struggled through broken Wolof and somewhat developing French. I didn’t know what amazing teachers existed in a country that has a 27% literacy rate. I didn’t know how I’d speed walk from my house to the local cyber-cafe to read the never-ending words of support sent from home. I didn’t know my family would boil water every day for me to drink, that my medicine-taking memory was impeccable, that the hole in the ground was not that intimidating, that I’d only use my money belt when I went downtown, that I’d eat some of the best mangoes here I’ve ever tasted in my life, that the people here take more showers than most Americans, that Senegalese hip-hop music is amazing, that bargaining is actually more like a entertainment than it is a hassle… I didn’t know that the whole time, I didn’t know at all.

In preparing for my study abroad experience in Senegal, a Western African country that just recently gained its independence from France in 1960, I attempted to prepare myself for everything that could possibly go wrong while there. In fact, I was so busy focusing on the things that could go wrong, trying to be realistic and responsible as I was told to be by the school and my parents and my friends, I didn’t have any time to think about the things that could go right. There was so much negativity and concern expressed to me about Africa being my study abroad destination, I actually began to question my motives for leaving myself. After all the arguing, explaining and crying it took to get to get my loved ones to allow me to go, after all the courses I had taken in African history and culture, after deciding to make Africa the focus of my major and French my minor, I was about to give up on the magical land that enticed and excited me since I was a little girl. In fact, sometimes at night, while I’m sitting outside underneath the African night sky with my 8-year-old Senegalese brother on my lap, I’m amazed that I actually found the courage to get on the plane at all. And at that moment, feeling the loose ground under my feet, I’m so happy I did.