family complications

Most people who know me realize that I'm not the type of person to get homesick. My parents encouraged me to go across the country and across the world by plane, by myself, from a young age-- my first solo trip was when I was 12, when I went to Baltimore for two weeks. Since then, I've been to Canada, Mexico, and Germany for varying amounts of time, the last two being entirely out of my linguistic and cultural comfort zone.

With this as context, I want to say that one of my greatest difficulties in Senegal so far is how lonely I feel, how isolated from everything I know and understand. You might be surprised to hear that this isn't because I'm in a developing country, or because I'm an ocean and some land away from people who care about me. In fact, the crippling culture shock that I was meant to feel here (according to Survival Kit to Overseas Living, as well as my college advisor) never came-- unless you count my cynicism and depression, which are the status quo-- in spite of ongoing frustrations due to persistent taxi honking and staring due to the reputation of whiteness that precedes me.

In fact, the main reason for my loneliness is that I don't feel at all accepted in my family. "My family"-- these words bring to mind a smiling, somewhat-balding father who loves puns and bad jokes, a courageous and kind mother with bright eyes something like mine, and a gigantic brother who seems like a jock but plans to major in creative writing. These things are family. When I made arrangements to come to Dakar for a study abroad program, my hope was to find a family who would make me feel truly at home, make me look forward to crossing their threshold as if I were with my own flesh and blood.

Unfortunately, this hasn't happened. I had to switch families (for several reasons, primarily because of the sound of the mosque right near the house at 5 in the morning) a few weeks into my stay, and the dynamic changed completely. My new maman is nothing like my own mother, and there seems to be no way to become friendly with her. One of my friends planned to come over last week and stay for dinner (as we had a large project to work on), but I was told that the food had already been made, and there wasn't enough. Not only was there plenty left afterward, but I was appalled and embarrassed at the total lack of Senegalese taranga (hospitality) shown by my family.

There have been other incidents that reveal to me I'm doing something wrong-- however, I haven't gotten a hint to what that something might be, and I'm left in the dark with the vague suspicion that I should change my behavior in some way. In the meantime, I eat my dinner in silence, thank my mother and sister when they make meals, and head upstairs for a lonely connection to my computer.

I don't mean to sound like I'm not enjoying my time here. I am, immensely. This world is beautiful, and crazy, and ridiculous, and sometimes the most hilarious thing I've ever thought about in my life. But today, I was reading the blog of someone who came here through another program last semester, and she talked constantly about how amazing her host family was, and how she cried (and they cried) when she finally left for the States. There will hardly be such a tearful farewell here.

I just wanted to post this to get it out of my system-- I've been feeling so sad and angry about my familial situation for a while now, and it's hard to think about how much happier I could be if I just had a family that wanted me (not the money my program is paying them) here. I'm trying not to count down the days until my return, but at the moment, it feels like that's the only way to keep from having a total breakdown.