“How was The Gambia?!”
I know this post is a bit overdue..I’ve tried to start writing it so many times, but have struggled to mold my thoughts into words. I still don’t know if I can, but here’s my best attempt.
When people ask me how my summer was, or how my experience in The Gambia was, I honestly choke. How do you even begin to encapsulate the profoundness of an experience like this into a paragraph, or even a sentence. Truthfully, you can’t.
To clarify for sociopolitical correctness, because this is the reaction I’ve gotten the most, I did not go to “Africa,” I went to The Gambia. I experienced and lived in The Gambia. This cannot be generalized to the entire African Continent. It is quite literally the equivalent of saying, “How was North America?!.” Food for thought, I digress. I’m not offended by people asking me about “Africa” because I made the same comment before I left. Here in the US, there is a huge misconception about the immensity (3 of the United States can fit comfortably in Africa) and plethora of diversity found in this beautiful continent. Our misinformed perspectives come from a position of power and privilege, and the Eurocentric education we have received. While typically with good intention, they are both incorrect and problematic. No, the people do not live in huts and hunt for survival. Yes, these are real questions that people have asked Gambians in the United States. The Gambian people and culture have proven breathtakingly beautiful, and to generalize them is an injustice in denying them their uniqueness and individuality.
I’ve been back in California for about a month now, which seems surreal. The adjustment has been a challenge, to say the least, and it’s unveiled itself in the strangest of places. When I walk down the street I have urges to smile and greet everyone I pass, but people are looking down at their phones. I forget that isn’t a thing here. Everything is expensive again, and I’m really not okay with it. I’ve been having intense mango cravings, and one day I decided to get a US mango, and it cost me $2. It wasn’t even good. Wandering Costco gave me anxiety. I wanted to get vitamins and there was about 20 different kinds to choose from, I didn’t like having so many options. I also spent $5 on coffee…welcome back to LA right?
In The Gambia, being constantly surrounded by people at every breathing second of my day got to be a little much at some points. Mind you, I’m an only child, so sometimes I just wanted a little breather to be alone by myself. But now, I want to go back to the concept of zero personal space. I’ll admit, its been nice to regain some of my independence and be able to walk around, go for a run, or take a drive without someone telling my otherwise. Yet, there have been moments where I have felt isolated doing just that.
Yet, the thing I have yearned for the most since being back is simply talking to people. Holding genuine conversations, hearing about people’s day to day lives, what their worries are, their ambitions, what sets their soul on fire. I no longer take these questions for granted. They are the central to who we are, they are the similarities that unite us as humanity. Everyone has these things, but not everyone has someone to talk to about them, and it saddens me. I think half of the reason many people feel so isolated and unfulfilled in the US, is the lack of community, camaraderie. Not having people constantly and selflessly checking in on one another, not having someone to talk to, and in turn, too often internalizing what we are going through.
Since being back, I’ve spent as much time as possible surrounding myself and holding conversations with the beautiful people I’m fortunate to have in my life. This is not something I take for granted, and I’m trying to let those people know how much they mean to me now in this moment, rather than never taking the time to express that gratitude and love. For those people in my life, you know who you are. I wouldn’t be half the person I am if it hadn’t been for your utmost support and unconditional love.
As of now, I’m beyond excited to start my senior year at Santa Clara. It’s definitely a bit daunting. I don’t see myself as being my age, in fact, I still think I’m a freshman. But when I look at the incoming freshman, and hear myself giving advice, talking about my ambitions, or what I’ve accomplished, I sound sort of wise-ish (at least wiser than I was a year ago) and it hits me that I’m old.
Starfish and The Gambia gave me more than I could have ever imagined. While I did most of the same things as the other fellows and volunteers, my experience and perceptions were entirely unique to me, and it was as fulfilling as it could have been for me personally. While I was there I was me. My most authentic, genuine self. The most refreshing part, that was more than enough. I received infinitely from Starfish, more than I think I gave, but that’s okay, because my presence and open heart were the crux of what was expected of me. I am incredibly grateful to have been touched by so many lives and to be taken in and loved as a sister and an aunty. There is truthfully not a day that goes by where I don’t think about The Gambia or act in a manner that reflects the lessons I have learned there. I find extreme solace in knowing that I will always have a home in The Gambia, laughing with the mentors, hugging my students, having Aunty Yassin and Uncle David as my second parents.
As my Gambian family likes to say, “it’s not a goodbye, but a see you soon,” and don’t worry, I’ll be home soon enough. For now, here’s to senior year and living life fully!
- side note: If anyone is interested, I made a short video that I would be happy to share through email:) Please do not hesitate to shoot me a message or reach out!(The iMovie → youtube conversion quality wasn’t the best)
- song suggestion: FIA by Davido is everything good in this world
much love,
Leslie ❤
