Some Reflecting….


So I am suffering from an inability to distinguish one day, week, or month from the next—symptomatic I suppose of my imminent departure. I have a propensity for hazy ramblings and I fear that, in looking back on my time in Senegal, this quality could become a bit pronounced. So I will endeavor to structure my reflection with topics in the hope that I will cover those most important components of my time here in a relatively clear and concise manner.

Yoff



Though it initially appeared an endless and un-navigable series of ruelles, Yoff has become familiar enough that I truly feel at home, but retains enough of its mystery that I am still pleasantly surprised each day by qualities I had previously failed to notice. The melding of a deep Muslim faith and ancient animistic traditions in a crowded suburb of one of Africa’s most developed capitol cities still leaves me bewildered. The more intimately I get to know this place, the less I truly grasp. What I have gleaned of the Layene Brotherhood and its egalitarianism I, again, find absolutely fascinating and at the same time distant. The impenetrable air that surrounds so much of day-to-day life here has often frustrated me. It is a feeling I have struggled to define for both my sanity and my journal, a concept that tormented me at the start of my time here and, admittedly, was probably intertwined with the heavy dose of culture shock I initially received.

Typically, when I find myself lost, I can at least ask the questions to provide elucidation of some degree, enough at least to present some surface-level bearings. I usually like to probe a bit deeper, however. But I initially found, as is expected I suppose, that I knew not what questions to ask or even the words to begin the formulation of such questions. It took me a fair chunk of time to learn that in simply being, I will inevitably come across reference points. And I need not actively catalogue these reference points; they manage to creep into my consciousness whether willed or not. For the first time in a long time, my unconscious mind bore the brunt of my daily mental activity. Those moments where unconscious and cerebral activities fused were little eureka! moments, often the fodder for journal entries and a small boost in confidence. Providing specific examples is a bit difficult, but the more concrete of these moments were often language-related. However, the large majority of them were more nebulous, having to do with observations of Culture, a foreign culture, and the recognition that, for one reason or another, it became less and less foreign.