Fellow Stories

True gap year stories from Fellows abroad!

Check out the latest blogs from Global Citizen Year Fellows in Brazil, Ecuador, and India!

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Social Security

2011-03-15

JAN 11 Today, like many other mornings, as we finish breakfast of Café Touba and bread, Absa, my “tanta” (dad’s 2nd wife) hands me a small teapot full of Café touba and tells me to take it to Baay Sier, my uncle. I slip on my sandals and trudge through the sandy street to our...

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A Mother’s Love

2011-03-15

The first thing I did, before breakfast or brushing my teeth, was go next door to the Maternity Clinique to see Absa’s friend and her three hour old baby. “Congratulations!” I said! She said it hurt. I left her to rest, returning home to my usual Sunday morning ritual of laundry and room-cleaning. I’m getting...

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The Longest Days, Chapter 4: “Journey to the Center of the Earth”

2011-03-08

Previously: I became acquainted with our hot canvas tents dispersed across several homes of religious community leaders and made friends from many walks of life. I struggled to find a small patch of floor on which to sleep, but was enthralled by Touba’s unique aura. Energy mounted like a pre-Magal powder keg: [slidepress gallery=’journey-to-the-center-of-the-earth-part-2_gus’] Please...

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Places To Go, People To See

2011-03-08

As a kid, I used to do this thing where I’d get lost on purpose. I remember bagging up my Cheerios in a Ziploc along with some water and looking down at my shoes until I turned 30 corners. When I looked up, if I knew where I was, I would look down and keep...

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CHRISTMAS DAKAR CABDRIVE: Penser Par Polygamy

2011-03-03

Last year’s Fellows told us to beware of the slower pace in Senegal, of the many hours of down-time. I was scared. In high school my schedule was packed with sports, homework, and clubs. This summer I worked a 60 hour week as a waitress to pay for GCY. I thrive on busy schedules. Would...

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The Longest Days, Chapter 3: “The Right Stuff”

2011-03-01

Previously: Having all but annihilated our “schedule” the medical caravan arrived in Touba in the witching hours of the morning, allowing an initial encounter with the throbbing ambience and surreal beauty of the Grand Mosque. I rested with my new colleagues: [slidepress gallery=’chapter-3′] Note: Please scroll over the images for titles and captions. Saturday, 1...

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Vegetarian’s Dilemma

2011-03-01

Among other things, I gave up vegetarianism when I made the decision to spend a bridge year in Senegal—or so I thought. Factory farming, my chief objection to meat in the States, isn’t practiced in Senegal and I didn’t want to be disrespectful to my host family’s culture or hard work to put expensive meat...

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A Fruit Knife

2011-02-28

I’ve been in Senegal five days now. I’m in class at Africa Consultants International (ACI), a school that teaches cross-cultural awareness and languages. My first homework assignment: boutik bi. Find a road side boutique stand, greet the owner, look around, and buy what intrigues you the most. Let’s break this down. Finding a boutik isn’t...

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When the Water Stops

2011-02-28

After about four days with no shower, I start to really smell. My skin becomes darker with caked dirt, and I am forced to re-wear filthy clothes and turn socks inside out. The water has stopped running. At least once a week, I go to turn the handle on the spigot in the yard and...

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Wrestling

2011-02-26

Ever since the day I wrestled with random Senegalese people on a beach in Dakar during orientation, I knew I wanted to learn how to Senegalese Wrestle – Lutte in french, Lamb in Wolof. I had seen my supervisor’s brother, Pascal Ndiaye, walking down the street the other day wearing a robe  “Lutte” written in...

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The Overnight

2011-02-25

Once or twice a week, I stay overnight at the maternity ward with the sage femme, waiting for expectant mothers. It’s heavy and cramped, and there aren’t any mosquito nets to cover us from the beasts that plague the halls at sunlight. I am wary of a coming storm of numbness where I begin to...

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Death

2011-02-24

I think it’s a tabooed subject that plays too big of a role in society to be ignored. It doesn’t strike up the same awkwardness in the village in America. In Senegal, people have more kids than in the States and the quality of health care is less, so death is a more common occurrence...

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