Hi! I can't believe I'm saying this, but we now only have 10 days to go until we leave Senegal.. I don't really want to think about it, so here's a throw back to April! You've heard about some of my experiences here, but it gets more and more difficult for me to write, as the things we do are no longer novel but simply part of everyday life, so here is our parents' visit from my mum's perspective! Enjoy!
My Holiday - by Claire Bushovic
Passports shown, visa paid for, passport shown, finger prints given, passport stamped, passport shown, proof of hotel reservations shown, details of return flight shared, details of occupation shared, teacher, teacher of what, to whom, where, that sounds good, do you like it? ( is that an entry question or are we chatting now?) passport checked, queue joined, passport checked.
My first piece of advice to parents arriving to visit their child in Senegal is don't rush to put your passport away!
My second is don't even attempt to leave the airport without your child's supervision. Nothing about living here prepares you for living there. Remember that sweet innocent you packed off 7 months ago? Do as they say.
I blame myself for our daughter signing up to Project Trust but after that I take no responsibility. I suggested she had a look in the gap year room before we left the 6th form progress evening. She never looked back. She chose Project Trust straight away and she researched and organised it all.
Looking back, the selection course should have prepared us for what we were going to find at Dakar airport. The journey to Coll was meticulously planned with times, connections routes between Glasgow stations discussed and rehearsed with Google street plan. The return journey plans were abandoned and decisions made on the hoof. She was already not the dependent we sent to Scotland.
Just before Christmas I had run out of people who wanted to listen to my stories of having a daughter in Senegal. Fortunately Charlotte's mum and I had exchanged numbers at Gatwick and kept in touch by text, phoning each other when really desperate for reassurance. We agreed to meet at Birmingham Christmas market so we could chat unhindered about our girls. Within an hour we were in Thomas Cooks' looking at flights.
Two weeks later we met again with husbands, siblings and iPads, flights were booked and the Bushovic's were born!
We had wondered about the wisdom of allowing 2 teenagers who haven't seen a hot shower for 7 months choose and book our hotels, but although they are truly excited by taps and toilets that flush they have clearly also learnt the value of money and they chose well.
I'm not going to try to describe everything we saw and did, this is a recollection of visiting our daughter, not a travel guide to Senegal, although it is a wonderful place, it really is.
Somebody asked my son whether he noticed a difference in his sister, his reply, "she's more aggressive"! I prefer assertive. Everything from haggling - for everything - to fending off marriage proposals. Charlotte's Mum and I listened fascinated to Beth chatting away with a guy in Wolof. As he walked away cheerfully Beth turned round beaming and announced she had just got Charlotte a Senegalese husband!
Seven white people all together do attract a certain amount of attention. One of the joys was seeing the huge pleasure on people's faces when the girls surprised them by speaking to them in Wolof, exchanging their Senegalese names ( Charlotte is known as Coumba, Beth as Aita). After a particularly vigorous round of haggling one lady told us, with some national pride "these Senegalese girls now!"
Stories about the commitment to vehicle maintenance are untrue. The Senegalese spend a lot of time maintaining their cars and taxis. Often mid journey, often with duck tape. It's just the way it is. It works.
Our itinerary included a couple of days in the town where the girls are living. We were so warmly welcomed by the family into their home and very well and generously fed. They had had families visiting before but never both volunteer's families together - it was Amadou who named us the Bushovics! I guess it might not work for everyone but for us seeing the very close relationship the girls had formed was as hilarious as it was reassuring.
I have to admit that I was a bit nervous about eating with the family, it is a very different culture. Well it couldn't have been easier, everyone just told us what to do! After dinner the Bushovic men were presented with handmade shirts as gifts and Karen and I were given beautiful colourful lengths of fabric. The tailor arrived... measured us up... and returned the next day with our very own boubous! I love mine, and yes, I have worn it at home.
Beth asked me to say what I thought of Senegal, whether it was what I was expecting. In a feat of double thinking I had thought that Beth wouldn't be actually living in what I imagined Africa to be like. But she is, it is sandy, it is colourful, it is busy and a bit chaotic. The people we met were friendly and welcoming and very generous.
Beth and Charlotte live here. This is their home. They are not visitors, they are part of the community, they greet friends, friends greet them, they have a tailor, a coffee vendor and a friendly taxi driver. They are Aita and Coumba Wone.
