Sleeping Under the Stars

My First Night
Coumba Diouma, Senegal
May 19, 2010

Well, I didn’t cry once today. Thought I was about to earlier this afternoon, but got it together. I’m exhausted and looking forward to getting my first good night sleep since I got here. It’s quiet and the stars are mesmerizing. It is a crescent moon laying low on the western horizon shining bright perfectly through my hut window.

The last two nights I was in a city called Kounkane, located about 40K south of my village with a group of volunteers installing in this area. This morning, we took three volunteers to their respective villages and watched as a huge celebration took place to welcome them in to the community and family. Drums, dancing, and a sacrificial lamb were in order and the volunteers received in this fashion seemed excited, their nervousness waning.

I was the last person to be installed in village out of the Kounkane group. We drove into Coumba Diouma with the white Peace Corps truck, my entire life packed tightly into backpacks and trunks strapped to the bed of the pick-up. As we drove past the school kids started running out, waving and shouting my new name, “Toulaye! Toulaye!”. The butterflies in my stomach fluttered stronger as we turned into my new family compound. My arrival was much less dramatic that the slitting of a goats throat. I was welcomed warmly and with probing eyes by some members of my new family; others seemed to trickle in unaware that I was to arrive that day. My dad, Chief Amadou Camara, reintroduced himself to me. One by one he pointed to each member of my family that was present, sitting under the shade structure in the middle of the compound, and said their name as I smiled nervously, thinking, “How am I going to remember all these names? Everyone looks the same!” After the brief introduction the Peace Corps driver, Pap, took off and I was left alone. The kids helped me put my things into my hut and life went on as per usual.

“Well, at least that’s over,” I thought to myself as I walked into my hut. When I walked in, there was a huge welcome note from Annicka, the volunteer I replaced, saying “Good Luck”, and “Bismillah”, and “Welcome, Rachael!” in big bubble letters on the chalk board painted on my crumbling wall. It was very thoughtful and comforted my nerves. I looked over my new digs for the next two years, took a deep breath, and said, “ok, this is home”. I started unpacking my things in my new hut and slowly my new brothers and sisters started trickling in, cautiously curious to see what this new volunteer was like. I tried the best I could to chat through terrible pullar. They were sweet and did their best to try to make me feel welcome and help with my things. Unfortunately, I didn’t have much to unpack nor any furniture to rearrange so that took about 10 minutes. Now, I was left with the rest of the day with nothing on the agenda. I walked out of the hut did my best to walk around the village greet people until dinnertime where we ate millet and leaf sauce. I have a feeling that dish will become a staple in my life over the next two years.

Anyway, it is bedtime and still no tears. My mom called me as well as veteran volunteer living in the region of Kedougou so that made me feel less alone. I am viciously tucked in to my mosquito net and will be sleeping, for the first time, outside under the stars in Africa.