Tostan Celebrates International Education Week

Over the past month, the bulk of my time has been spent at my service site. Working with the communications department of Tostan, has brought me all sorts of wonderful experiences and opportunities. The latest of which, has been writing a piece for their celebration of International Education Week. That post can be found here!

We Share It

With each passing day, my morning walk gradually becomes more familiar. I leave my homestay treading on the soft, parting sand that covers every possible surface. As I make my way to my service site, the sun creeps higher into the sky. Walking along busy streets, I pass by new people everyday, yet some familiar faces stand out. There's the baker, who loads the back of his car with stacks of freshly baked loaves, ready for his daily delivery. Then, after turning the corner, I pass a familiar merchant selling school supplies, books, pencils and bags. Farther along this street, I pass by the most remarkable people of all. Two elderly gentlemen sit in the shade of a protective wall. They smile as I approach, displaying rows of gnarled teeth and a joy that surpasses all else. I shake their withered hands and respond in turn to their friendly greetings. Looking me in the eye, they wish me a peaceful day.

As I return home from my morning of service, they are in the same position as when I first passed by. I've been passing these two homeless men twice a day for the past few weeks. With all their worldly possessions laid at their side, they sit and watch life drift slowly by. These gentlemen talk with such openness and genuine curiosity, asking where I come from and where I go each day. Everyday their  kindness, generosity and happiness is reflected by their words and actions. They have invited me to sit with them and have offered to share their meager lunch with me. I see how willing they are to share what little they have, and because of this, I have been compelled to return their generosity.

After one morning of service, I greeted my friends, handing them each a bag of peanuts. The joy on their faces was unmistakable and they continue to thank me, even days afterwards. I know that if our roles had been reversed, they would have done the same for me. Everyone here shares what they have, even these two elderly men. They may not have a house full of material things, but they have life, and because of that, they have shared with me their positive outlook and their joy. Every time I walk away from them, I have a smile on my face. I only hope that what I can reciprocate is equal to what they have given me.

These types of meetings are certainly not a rare occurrence here in Senegal. Individuals will call from their stoops and go out of their way to greet me. There is no sense of personal isolation here, making it impossible to walk down the street in the same bubble of privacy I have come to know from my life back home. At first, the incessant greetings and remarks from strangers made me feel uncomfortable, but after spending time here, I have become used to this change.

I realize now that many people are like these homeless men, reaching out with hope, just looking to be acknowledged. Realizing that everyone has something to share has made me far more comfortable meeting new people. I have come to enjoy the spontaneous greetings and making new friends while crossing the street. Taking the time to slow down and say hello can mean a great deal to someone.

Like my experiences with these two elderly men, I have found that there is something to be learned from every encounter. I see how these men interact with their surroundings, despite their adverse circumstances; it’s as if they condense happiness out of thin air. Something about the way they hold my gaze and the softness of their voices sets inside me a feeling of wonder. While these men have barely more than the clothes on their backs, they exude a sense of vibrant life. I feel welcomed and appreciated by these men I hardly know. They see life from a different perspective, more interested in the people they meet, instead of the things they have. Each day that passes, I try to become a little more like my two homeless friends.