You're Throwing Us Away!

I was very nervous when the time came to start saying goodbye to people.  How is it done? Who do I say goodbye to? Do I have to spend a whole day, or can I just pop over with a "peace out?"

Answers were not given by Soso and Oumou.  Around September 2013 they were already lamenting the day I would leave.  "Ah, Aissatou, you're leaving next year."

"Guys, I just got here."

This has been a constant theme throughout my two years.  The revolving cycle of Peace Corps Volunteers is tough on other volunteers; you have to lose and make new friends every six months. But it's also difficult on our villages.  Peace Corps has been here for over 50 years and there has been a revolving door of people ever since.

As I was leaving, my counterpart Moussa kept encouraging me to stay.  Just a year or two longer and Sanankoro would be all set! We've just gotten started, we must continue! You can finally speak Pulaar, you know everyone! Stay!  My go to response was that my parents refused, and you just gotta respect ones elders, right Moussa?

He wasn't the only one encouraging me to stay. My whole village was. And when I refused, as they knew I would, they hit me right where it hurts.

"Aissatou, you're just going to throw us away."

Throwing someone away is the worst thing you can do to a person short of murdering his whole family.  You don't call, you don't visit, you just do you.  You can't just do you, that is ridiculous.  And here everyone I'd ever met was, accusing me of throwing them away. Ouch.

And there's nothing I can really do to combat that now.  I went to all of the villages I'd worked in or known people in, brought cola nuts and tea, hung out and talked for a day.  I made a point to go to family members' houses and each of my counterparts, as well as my Peace Corps friends family.  I threw a fete; everyone knows I care.  The trick will be to keep reminding them that just because I'm in Senegal anymore doesn't mean I've thrown everyone away.