As I stepped out of my house in Malawi with my heavy luggage and muffled my footsteps into the car and took my seat. The vehicle steadily started moving from my city to the airport. I shared stories, smiles, and jokes with my family. We also enjoyed the same obscure hobby of music, everyone found themselves humming to each other’s songs. As I passed through the last security checkpoint at Kamuzu International Airport, life flashed before my eyes, as now the journey drew to a close. I agree with a famous quote by Charlie Chaplin that says,” Nothing is permanent or forever in this world, not even our troubles. Everything changes moment by moment each day”. I realize that I am changing my environment from known to unknown. I confess that when it was time to say goodbye to my family, I found myself drenched in a pool of tears because I was having mixed emotions. I was equally happy to discover Senegal as was equally sad to separate from my family which has always been a constant valuable in my life. Although I believed that I would always be in contact with them, I even felt guilty as I would not see these special people often enough. At the same time, I remembered that those who mean something to you will remain in your life. When you make a connection, it will not break because you are leaving a situation, the relationship will persevere. It was in this moment of despair that I was left with the difficult choice to move on and do something different.
Arriving at the hotel after a 14-hour flight led me to nothing else but a shower, a quick meal, and bedtime to beat the jetlag. In the very vibrant city of Dakar, We toured the city as much as we could after our long journey. Monument de la Rennaissance is quite spectacular, and having seen a few Instagram posts on it, I’m glad I was able to tick this one off my list of to-dos in Dakar. The following day we visited Ngor. Here, I spent time chatting with friends and staff from CorpsAfrica/Senegal while appreciating the stunning views and peacefulness of the area. At the beach there were myriad stalls selling Cafè Touba, a coffee beverage and the sound of the waves stimulated a sense of calm and relaxation.
After spending four days in the city, I arrived late Sunday night to my site and the first meal I had was dinner. My host mother summoned, “Kaay Reer!” which translates to “Come eat dinner” in English. I remember we ate around a large plate on the ground, the food was amazing. My first day at ceebujen was unlike anything I’d had before, and the meals continued to be amazing and different. Embarking on a trip to Senegal was not just an opportunity to explore its breathtaking landscapes and wildlife but also to indulge in the flavors of its vibrant and diverse cuisine. Curious to find out more, my host mother and I had intimate classes focused not only on teaching me authentic ethnic culinary cuisines such as thieboudienne but also on the story of herself, bringing to life the flavors, experiences, and essence of her home country.
Moments and anecdotes from Malawi to Senegal flutter into my memory as I go about my day-to-day life. As I was born and raised in Malawi, I am proud to call myself a global citizen, with a Western education and Southern values. This difference became crystal clear when I joined CorpsAfrica/Senegal as I met different groups of people with other nationalities. Have you ever experienced that moment when words in another native language don’t seem to be enough? I cannot count how many times I have started a sentence in Wolof and then added words in English because they simply seemed to express a concept better. Traveling to Senegal for the CorpsAfrica exchange program has made me realize how language is key when it comes to creating connections with my host family as well as my fellow Volunteers; embracing another culture and understanding a different community altogether.
Moving to another country is a thrilling and life-changing experience! My first truly Senegalese experience was Nguente also known as baptism. In Senegal, as soon as a child is born, its mother takes the child to the Imaam who recites the call of prayer in each year a week after birth. It is also during this ceremony that the parents will give the child a name. I was fortunate enough to be invited to the baptism to witness women who put on their most beautiful robes in the evening dancing and singing. Just like a snail, I went inside my shell because I was born with two left feet. This day will always remain my favorite day in the community as one woman who was at the center of the party grabbed my arm and took me on the dance floor and I managed to be “graceful” on the dance floor. I was pushed out of my comfort zone as I am yet to settle; yet to find new friends; yet to fit and yet to rebuild a semblance of my old, comfortable familiar life. This has enabled me to grow as a person and gain self-confidence. After this, it was time to give gifts to the mother. I can’t thank enough my Local and Cultural Facilitator, Pape Sanou who supported us with assorted gifts to give to the mother because it was our first week in the community as we were infants in the culture. His support should always receive a standing ovation. Nguente made me realize that it is more than a social rite, religious ceremony, and celebration but more of a friendly, colorful, and noisy event. At the party, the host family served us with Lakh and Thiebou yappas as well as quenched our thirst with Jus Mango. I was both grateful and lucky to have been able to partake in such an experience which broadened my cultural and culinary knowledge; something that would not have been possible without the generous teranga (hospitality) one can find here.
In a nutshell, I reflect on how these experiences have impacted my worldview and personal development. Becoming different takes a lot of work. It takes brainstorming and round table conferences with your thoughts. Will people approve? What will they say? How do I go about doing this? And a million other questions yet to be asked and answered. But staying different takes a whole lot of courage.