There comes a point in the study abroad experience when a gnawing doubt begins to grow within the student. It begins in the pit of one’s stomach (just like all important feelings, positive and otherwise) finally transforming into a full-blown desperation, “Am I really making the most of my time here?” About two weeks ago, I was confronted with this fear in the midst of everyone making spring break plans. With spring break hurtling around the corner, and only a month of getting to know other people on the program to a point where you would want to travel with them, everyone had begun scrambling like ants in a recently destroyed anthill trying to solidify some semblance of vacation plans. I originally had my heart set on visiting Saint-Louis north of Dakar, the former capital of French West Africa. From all the pictures that I had seen and stories I’d heard, I imagined it to be a picturesque town with French-style architecture and houses painted every color of the rainbow. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at it), the friends who I was travelling with decided that Saint-Louis would be better as a weekend trip seeing as it is relatively close to Dakar. They decided instead to explore the South eastern region, namely Kedougou and surrounding areas, because we wouldn’t have the opportunity to travel in that direction with our program.
The word “hiking” was thrown around liberally, and as the outdoors-phobic person that I am, I figuratively ran for the hills and removed myself from the plans. And by “ran for the hills” I mean I ran for the phone and called my mum up to see if it was too late for her travel agent friend to help me book a cheap flight back to Ghana for the break. Luckily for me it wasn’t, but still a little indecisive, I asked her to hold off on making any bookings because I wanted to check back with my friends and see exactly what their plans were. I spent the weekend “soul-searching” or in other words agonizing about whether to go home for break or whether to break the wall of my comfort zone and explore Senegal a little. Studying at Georgetown means that I’m about 5,000 miles away from home and never able to go back for short breaks like Easter or spring break. No weekends, no birthdays, no family weddings. This would be my one and only opportunity to do just that. But, on the other hand, I will be spending my entire summer hopefully interning in Accra and would have ample time to spend with family and friends. Besides, didn’t I come to Senegal to see a part of Africa that was totally unknown to me despite it being so close? A little clambering over rocks wouldn’t hurt!
With my mind more or less made up, I called home on Monday and assured my mum that I would rather stay in Senegal to explore seeing as I wasn’t sure when I would get this opportunity again. I also announced to my friends that I had decided to travel with them after all, and they were full of reassuring statements, “The hikes won’t even be that bad”, “Senegal isn’t that hilly anyways” and other gems of comfort. And so began a week of planning which mainly consisted of my friend Katherine doing tons of research and relaying information back to the rest of the group. The plan was to arrive in Kedougou on Friday or Saturday and spend the night, after which we would move on to do a guided tour of the region until Wednesday when we would begin the final leg of our trip, a visit to the Niokolo-Koba National Park. That mouthful of a sentence may give you a little hint as to how daunting the trip seemed at the time. I booked rooms for our group of eight in a “campement” in Kedougou, right in the middle of town. With that reservation made, it seemed like the trip had been set in stone. It was definitely happening!
It didn’t help that almost every Senegalese person I told about our plans responded with a wide-eyed, “Kedougou?? Mais pourquoi? C’est trop loin et il n’y a rien là-bas!” (Kedougou?? Why? It’s too far and there’s nothing there!) I tried not to grow disheartened by these responses mainly because it was too late to change my mind yet again. It was time to put things into perspective. After all, if a tourist in Ghana asked me to name some of the best places to visit, I would be more inclined to direct them to the stall where I get my African-print dresses and beaded jewelry, and supposing that the person wasn’t a shopaholic after my own heart, I would probably stretch to include anywhere that had a beach or nice resort-style accommodation. I suppose this unwillingness to discover or maybe simple overlooking of certain areas of one’s own country stems from the fact that when you live in a city such as Dakar, or Accra, you have all that you feel you could possibly need within the city limits. What more could there possibly be to life outside traffic jams and streets lined with bars and restaurants as far as the eye can perceive? You don’t feel as though you have any reason to explore an environment which you are convinced will always be there, and strenuous treks across the country seem pointless. One could argue that this is a symptom of city-living anywhere, and I confess that I myself am guilty of this mindset. That is not to say that all city-dwellers are unadventurous and close-minded, but one must admit that it is very easy to remain in urban comfort for long periods of time without feeling a need to see what more there is to be experienced at the end of that long, potholed road. Needless to say, I was unprepared for the twists and turns our trip would entail, 14km hikes, outdoor showers, one breathtaking waterfall and more!
