As I wave goodbye to my mother and my two best friends for what could be a year, tears form in my eyes. Am I really doing this? I feel a sense of regret about the whole thing. I don’t want to go. I’m leaving everything I know... everything I love. I know I will enjoy it, but I feel home sick when I haven’t even left them yet so how will I feel when I’m actually there or even worse, in two months time!? I run back, giving them another hug before bursting into tears. Like an infection, my tears cause them to cry simultaneously. You never know how important people are to you until you have to leave them.
|Lunch on the airplane|
They rest of the day was amazing. It is marvellous here...The sun, the beach, the food. I adore this place.
The food alone shows the effects the French has on this African country. For breakfast, we had baguettes and for lunch we had a traditional Senegalese cuisine called Ceebu Jen.
‘Ceeb’ is rice in Wolof and ‘Jen’ is fish. The other volunteers claim that it is very spicy, but I can’t really taste it.
We also went to the beach and enjoyed the African sun. Many locals came to talk to us and sell to us.
As my French is so poor I’ve been saying the wrong things to them! I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t leave me alone when I told them that I had no money for them. It took me the whole day to realise that what I was saying was absolutely wrong. What I said was neither French nor Wolof. Typical Precious
Au revoire (French) & Be benen yoon (Wolof)