My absence on this blog has been both an intentional one and an unintentional one. One that has both helped me and hurt me. And as my time here in Senegal is boiling down to a month and then some I have found myself reflective of the seconds that have slipped me, the months that have since passed by with a bittersweet briskness, and all the moments that were gifted to me in the midst of it all. And it is because of this that I recently took the time to reread the memories that have been temporarily written down, but will indefinitely live within me.
So here is a small compilation of my year so far, pieces from my personal journals that I have pulled from the first entry of each month.
I am scared that no one will understand me.
Funny how [some of] the hardest things in life are the most beautiful.
*A few feelings expressed the day before we left for Senegal*
My host dad told me that this was my home too.
*My first day with my host family*
Happy birthday Mom. Today sucked.
It was very isolating being this sick. Not being able to communicate how I felt or why I felt this way.
*The day I found out I had typhoid*
I woke up feeling amazing and clean for the first time in a long time.
We ate peanuts on the shore…[and] ran back to the hotel in the pitch black dark.
I then went to SISMAR where we shared some attaya. Surprise attaya like that from anyone is my favorite.
*A day at home in Pout*
December left me lost but happy, content but a little numb.
I guess maybe I thought I’d know myself more this year and maybe in some twisted way I do, but I think that my conversation with Sophia on the beach in Saint Louis left me with one answer: my certainty lies in uncertainty.
I lost myself and I lost my words.
So here’s to doing what feels right for me after putting everything and everyone before me previously. If I do that, there will always be something to write about.
*A look into the long essay written about the lost month that was December*
I couldn’t help but smile…
*Conclusions regarding my host family*