12/31/09
POST-SENEGAL REFLECTIONS
How can I capture ambivalence in a sheet of paper? Even after ten days away from Senegal, with the fragrant, fresh tuna taste melting quickly into memory, I cannot seem to rightly examine my experience there. My mind tumbles onto the subject amid brief repose at the peak of an ancient Portuguese iglesia or in the line of a majestic pastry shop, but I can only focus on Senegal for a moment before I push myself away from it. Is it because I don’t know what I think of it? Or is it because part of me is rejecting Senegal, wanting to tuck it safely into the past? Allison’s reactions to Morocco are filled with uncomfortable encounters with the lavish excess of normal European (and American) life. I, however, seem to have sunk comfortably into the cozy, better-off life that I know to be indicative of great privilege and widespread inequality. Yes, I feel somewhat alienated from the large shops and the expensive restaurants here, but I’ve always disassociated myself from shopping and these streets belong to other cultures anyhow. It is only natural that I would be a sort of spectator, witnessing and dipping my fingers into this unique elixir of life, knowing that I will never be able to fully submerge myself within it but joyfully licking off my fingers nonetheless. So, distant from both Senegalese culture and Portuguese culture, I more into a new life perspective wherein I expect myself to always be culturally distant form others so long as I am away from home. I no longer seek to integrate myself, but merely to witness and appreciate respectfully. This stems, perhaps, from the way in which my host family held me at bay, never really expecting me to meld with the family and never fully allowing it. So, my understanding of culture has shifted over these past few months –and I’m not sure if it’s for the better- but this neither rightly explains my lack of desire to synthesize my experience in Senegal nor justifies my quick slip into easy comfort. I guess I’m just tired and want to go home, but I suspect that a slightly different, roughly hewn but more comprehensive jocelyn lies bellow the surface. She will emerge in the form of a necessarily more socially active person, a woman who sees community work as integral to life satisfaction. I’m also finding myself shaken up in terms of education and career goals; do I want to go into health? Do I have the guts to up and delve into science? A huge part of me wants to go straight back to Scripps and hunker down with my books and whatnot. A large part of me isn’t fond of the idea of going abroad again and just wishes I could skip all the worldly experiences and go straight into working on classes and such. The biggest par of me just wants to go climbing again. I suspect that if I just imbue my life with a lot of climbing, a little meditation, and a slightly larger dose of yoga that things would brighten up greatly. Add to that some singing and we’ve got a jolly good life on our hands!
Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing back here in Spain –or Europe for that matter. Portugal was nice, but I think Africa would have been closer to what I was imagining. Say, Mali or Togo, for instance. Oh well. C’est la vie. I need to find peace in the present moment. That is all.
Okay, Senegal in five sentences: I felt a disconnect form my host family that developed into a real lack of investment in interactions on m part during the last few weeks. I liked my host cousin, Assane, and my school friend, Hassane, but there was always this cushy area of impenetrable nothingness ( read: difference, culture, miunderstanding) that lay between myself and them. Basically, it was hard to get close to anyone. I got along well with my American friends and really enjoyed a lot of the experiences I had in Senegal, such as my trip to Kedougou or gong out surfing, but I never felt at home. The food was good, but oily; the teranga was heart-warming, but tainted by stereotypes and a colonialist, racial legacy; and the country was beautiful, but mostly within the rich, cultural practices of the people and their gorgeous clothing – Dakar itself was a dusty, dirty place that I may have found a way to life comfortably in but that was absolutely unable to touch my heart.
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1/24/10
TRAVEL REFLECTIONS
This last month has been a happy month of travels and a nice transition between Senegal and US residence, but moreover it has been an interesting maturing experience. At first, it just seemed convenient that I had Allison as a travel partner; two students, fresh from our respective African locales and expecting quite a transition, we were able to constantly reflect on our experiences together, compare Senegal and Morocco to the European cities we were exploring, and blurt out anything we pleased in Arabic or Wolof without annoying anyone. Later, it seemed that the trip was simply a source of enjoyment, a chance to catch glimpses of new horizons, and an opportunity to revisit with Alicante climbing friends and my lovely host family. However, as this trip came to a close, it dawned on me that this has been an important growing experience for me. Here, I have made my way through several countries, first booking everything with a friend of equal inexperience and youthfulness, then sallying forth to make my own way in Morocco! It is clear to me that I could easily traverse any corner of this globe in a self-assured and safe fashion. The only prospect left to daunt me is that of paying my own bills by holding down a consistent job! But I suppose that that will come with time as I’m finally thrown into that arena. Besides this, I have only the lingering concern that I wouldn’t be capable of pulling off med school if I put my mind to it. This is, granted, the latest of considerations on my part and I’m not at all convinced that this is the path I will be taking, the finance of these studies being something of a disencourgement.
Anyhow, I would like to take this last page to list off a few highlights of the trip that will be worth remembering a few years from now:
*Port and cheese at the Traveler’s House in Lisbon on Christmas Day. The warm glod of the hostel and the delightfully smooth crimson liquid…
*The Porto cityscape, as the sun breaks over a pristine river and hilly city.
*Gallivanting about Madrid on New Years with the whole posse. Fancies of Alex entertaining me for days thereafter…
*Cheerful card fames with Ben, Dan, Jess, Maddie, and Allison in the kitchen in Granada.
*The Traveler’s Scavenger Hunt. :-D
*Revisiting my stupendous host family and sharing Sunday hors d'oeuvres along with nouvelles and fond recollections.
*Climbing with Ricardo once again! (and the beet salad and salmon pasta!)
*Wandering the Fez Medina –blissfully lost.
*The views of Chefchaouen. All blue. :-)
*Portuguese pastries and cheeses. Yum!
I have in no way “figured out” what I’m going to do with this life I’ve been given, except the obvious pursuit of my passions, but I feel that I am a much richer person thanks to these last five months. I suspect that it will take many months –or years- for the full effects of Senegal to realize themselves consciously upon my person.
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2/25/10
A MONTH’S PERSPECTIVE
It is odd looking back at these entries that I wrote back a month and nearly two months ago. I was in a strange transition period between abroadness and home, and my ambivalence about Senegal shone through in my earlier entry. If you’ve spoken to me recently, you will note that some of this ambivalence remains, seeping through my hesitant responses. Overall, it was a very positive experience and a growing one. Compared to Spain, I experienced less culture shock due to my greater flexibility to the challenges presented to me from the get go.
What have I learned? What has struck me, or shifted my thinking, or become reinforced?
Flexibility and a side-sweeping of expectations are critical towards greater happiness and success. Just breathing is enough. Why cloud that experience with notions that won’t necessarily match up to future realities?
Culture is a fickle, fluid, fabulous, ever-changing ether that cannot be pinned down or consumed like a beverage. It is not something you will hold and own, and it is nothing like those cookies that your grandmother makes that can be passed from hand to hand upon request; no matter how much you may want to grab that entire, smoldering cookie, you’ll only ever be able to grasp at crumbs and inhale a few esters. Think you’ll ever know a culture or even what culture means? You’re wrong. Just flow with it.
Always eat anything you have a mind to try. All the more if it looks disgusting. How many people can say they’ve eaten snails, chicken’s fee, octopus tentacles, pigs’ feet, or sheep liver? Not that I’d ever eat any of them ever again, but come now? There’s no better form of exploration!
My family is my everything. Therein I include those wonderful friends that follow me in spirit and love me from afar. I will not always be away from you…
I am strong. I can climb mountains and roll with the waves; I can book a hostel and navigate sticky intercultural situations with a confident smile; I can see a million different people and still remember to see them as individuals, no matter how limited their world views may seem at first. I can change my opinions and I can learn –those are the most powerful tools of all.
I believe that I can handle med school. I can take that daunting calculus and hurl myself through O-Chem, and I can even go to grad school and come out smiling. I have that ability. I just need to try.
I am ready to think of myself in a long-term way. I’m ready to make decisions that will define my entire life, and I’m willing to recognize how closely those choices are intertwined with everyone else. It is not just for me that I do; I must do for others as well because I am not alone in this world. Thinking only of myself is the epitome of selfishness, but it is only too easy. My responsibility is toward greater awareness and action upon that awareness. If this means that I must work for my community with my hands and my heart, then that is what I must do. It is a passion and a responsibility. There is a choice. As they say, do not go back to sleep.
This is my greatest challenge.
-Jocelyn
PS Thank you to Megan for reminding me of these written morsels and giving me the inspiration to post them.
Gargoyle looking pretty dang magnificent, if I do say so myself, on the underside of a fabulous palace in Sintra, near Lisbon, in Portugal.
Allison and I in Lisbon.
Porto. Love of my life.
The staple of our diet.
A church in Lisbon -my favorite.
Me and olives...in Meknes?
So, there we are, Jin and I, in Meknes. We've checked out of our crummy hostel and need a place to leave our bags for our day trip to the Roman ruins of Volubilis. The man at the hostel told us the train station stored baggage, but as we inquired to the man at the front of the ticket line at the station, we found out that that wasn't the case. As we turned around, we encountered a pair of young men who, much to our surprise, offered to let us leave our things with their grandparents just down the street. We took them up on this offer, hung out with them for a half an hour before traipsing off to the Roman ruins, and upon our return, took up the invitation to have tea with the lovely grandparents. And here you have that encounter. :-)
Hassan II mosque in Casablanca -3rd biggest in the world and the biggest one welcoming non-muslims within it. Gorgeous. I settled down to meditate for a few moments in that atmosphere.
Hassan II mosque from without. The Oma pose!
Anybody seen Casablanca? I haven't, but I've practically been in it! Here we are, seated in Rick's Cafe enjoying some lavish desserts and fine conversation, in three languages thanks to the Argentinian beside me and the French Canadian and Australian across from me. I have to admit, all the wealth was kinda uncomfortable, but the lights were lovely.
I am the gueen of Granada! Me, myself, and I reunited with the Alhambra. T'was lovely!
Granada street art (that just happens to resemble Rhiannon, age 10. I love it!)
Allison, myself, and my host sisters Saioa and Janire. It has been so long since I've seen them and they've grown so much! But we had a fabulous time together nonetheless. Such fun girls!
Toledo, Spain. Yes, I know. I live in a fairytale.
Dorothy, a travel buddy who is friends with Allison back in the states, and myself in a garden in Madrid, Spain.