Finally leaving Senegal

Ok, i know it's a little corny but i wrote a poem about my daily activities. It's supposed to be like a day in the life of, it was supposed to rhyme but i gave that up in the second line.


My days begin at seven in the morning.
If it’s not my cat purring in my face, I wake up to the sounds of my neighbors hard at work in the fields.
I rise, wash my face, brush my teeth and seize the day
As I head out on the path toward my centre de sante.
People come, people go.
On jaaraama, Tana alaa, Jam tun.
Nene comes expecting another child and vaccinating her enfants.
I see how far along they are with their pregnancy and weigh their enfants as well.
There’s much to be done at the health center each day;
Murals to be painted, shots to be given, medicine to be received.
At noon, less people come and tea is served.
Tea is served with more sugar than I can stand.
I return home to prepare my lunch and feed my cat.
I continue to do household chores and return to the health center at 15.
Sometimes I eat dinner there or sometimes it’s to get updates.
At 17 it’s about time to study and visit my host family.
I walk a short route to greet my host family.
A jaaraama, Tana Alaa, No marsedee seeda.
The evening continues in Pular, French and sometime English.
I help prepare the sauce to mix with the pot full of rice and of course eat as many mangoes as possible.
I’m tired by 21 or at least ready to call it a night and return home.
From my host family sometimes I like to go to the boutique to charge my phone.
But the majority of the time I’m too tired and I need to get my rest.
I return to my dark masion and the company of my cat.
I light a small kerosene lantern to read my book as I nod off to sleep.
This is a typical day in my village but every day is not the same.