This spring, VolsTeach alumna and 2025 Educators Hall of Honor inductee Kirsten Salonga (’17) took her classroom across the world as a participant in the Fulbright Teachers for Global Classrooms program in Senegal. An ESOL (English to Speakers of Other Languages) Environmental Science & Biology teacher at Justice High School in Falls Church, Virginia, Salonga joined a cohort of educators exploring how language, culture, and education intersect in classrooms across Dakar and beyond.
The Teachers for Global Classrooms program “equips educators with the knowledge and experience to bring an international perspective to their schools. Through immersive travel and cross-cultural exchange, teachers engage with global education systems, develop strategies for inclusive instruction, and build meaningful connections with educators around the world.”
For the third year, Kirsten agreed to document her journey for Accolades readers. Follow along as she shares reflections, discoveries, and lessons from her time teaching and learning in Senegal!
Day 1
April 12, 2026 – Dakar
Aasala maaleckum!
Maaleckum salam!
We were told the importance of greeting one another by our local coordinator, Ousmane. “This will keep you safe”: as one of the only countries that has not had a coup d’état, those I have met so far are as proud of their country as they are kind.
After an 8 hour flight from JFK at 7:00 p.m., we land at 7:00 a.m. in Senegal! Technically Dakar’s International Airport is in Ndiass, about an hour east of Dakar. After a long plane ride with minimal sleep, I was greeted by the one of the few things that I can easily fall asleep with: a car ride.
Upon arriving to our hotel, we are greeted with a breakfast with of I can only describe as the mental relief I needed from a long journey: fruit in the shape of animals! As a vegetarian, I knew that I would have fewer protein options. I have learned from all of my travel experiences (including to the Philippines, where my family is from!) to bring protein bars and to eat what I can only describe as an ungodly amount of eggs. As I write this post before bed, I am reminded that during dinner, Ousmane told me that in Wolof (the main language that people speak in Senegal), there is no word for “vegetarian”, only “Duma lekk yàpp” (“I don’t eat meat”).
While French is prominent through text (inscriptions along all parts of the airport, menus, traffic signs), Wolof is heard in abundance. During our Introductory Session, Ousmane described to us the rich history and culture of Senegal. Once a French colony, Senegal is reestablishing its roots by reclaiming artifacts (masks, books, etc.) that were stolen by the French, relocating them from Europe to Senegal. The government is currently trying to establish education strictly in Wolof for Mathematics, History, and Geography classes to promote the transfer of native language to power.
As a science teacher, I was pleased to discover that Cheikh Anta Diop was a Senegalese scientist attributed to Carbon-14 dating. The Cheikh Anta Diop University in Dakar was even renamed after him! On a more personal level as Filipino-American, I was enamored with Mouride greeting, in which the back of a hand brought to your own forehead is a sign of respect; this is similar to the mano po of Filipino culture, and the overlaps of respect and humility are evident.
I am also truly impressed by the actions taking place to formally integrate Wolof in schools, as students are taught most classes in French. This model is similar to Bilingual Programs in the U.S., and I can see parallels between my own classroom: I teach my students science, but purely in English. In this way, students are learning science content while also improving their English language development. One Fulbright participants asked Ousmane how they are able to teach subjects to students who may not understand French, and his response was one that resonates with me to my core: “The teachers have skills to teach this.”
Sometimes I forget that my knowledge of condensing diction and specific syntax is rare. Having taught ML science for 9 years now, code switching is in my blood. However, I know that I always have more to learn. I did not realize that I would have such a deep connection to my own work, and I am so very excited to see how teachers are doing this in their classrooms in Senegal!
Day 2
April 13, 2026 – Dakar
“The embassy is a multi-level agency” said Vanessa, the U.S. Foreign Service Officer who guided our discussions this morning at the U.S. Embassy. The CDC, USDA, and Peace Corps are just a few of these levels. From Senegalese officials, we learned that there is a national curriculum in Senegal (reflective of the Common Core in the U.S.) for “progressive harmony”. There are even parent associations at schools and a national Teachers Association, broken into smaller local Teacher’s Associations—similar to the National Education Association and its locales. Even cell phones have been banned this year in schools (parallel to the timeline for Virginia’s own cell phone ban), but the initiative is nationwide.
As someone who has taught classes both with and without standardized testing requirements, I have specific interest in if/how mandated tests are implemented in other countries. Similarly to our structure, each region creates its own specific standardized test, including (but not limited to) multiple choice, short answer, etc. Tests are required to enter middle school and to enter high school as well. If students do not pass the standardized tests (including semi-annual tests), then they have one more chance to pass before they are unable to continue in public schools. If this happens, they may attend private schools, but they must still take standardized tests—in addition to paying for school—and strikes against any bad behaviors are grounds for immediate dismissal.
The two major differences that shocked me were that:
- Schools are not at risk for funding or accreditation if their test scores are low.
- If scores are low in classes, teachers are able to provide alternative tests that they create for their students to satisfy testing requirements. While the U.S. also has graduation requirements tied to standardized tests, teachers do not have the flexibility of creating their own.
In some ways, the school system is reminiscent of my parents’ stories of school in the Philippines. Here in Senegal, students are also ranked based on achievement, and the top 50 students are able to attend an “excellence school,” one of the elite boarding schools in Goree. Teachers also have minimal training in differentiated means of learning (including disabilities), with specialized schools limited to schools for the deaf, etc.
Maybe the most impressive part of the Senegalese education system is that the government also heavily supports education, sponsoring 80% of all education fees nationally, including college tuition. As someone who wrote many scholarship recommendations this year, I can only imagine the doors that this structure could open for our students.
While we are not allowed to take any pictures of government buildings, we were able to take a singular picture of our group in the embassy!
The remainder of the afternoon was spent in one of my favorite environments when I travel: the market! Our guide, Ousmane, laughed at the amount of times that I said jërëjëf (thank you) in Marché Soumbédioune. Someone even started speaking to me in Wolof when I greeted them with aasala maaleckum, and Ousmane said it was because some of the Peace Corps volunteers can speak fluent Wolof.
One of my most memorable moments today was telling Ousmane that I could tell when someone said something negative to me in Wolof (as I walked away when I did not want to purchase anything), to which he said I should respond with A ngi yaw (also to you). I’ll have fun with that tomorrow.
Another insightful, adventurous day!
Day 3
April 14, 2026 – Dakar
“The revision of Senegalese education is like a new decolonization” – Dr. Marie Gueye, PhD., Senegal International Education Specialist
Dr. Gueye explained the importance of the shift in priorities from France to African and Senegalese culture, even describing how specialists are “faithfully rewriting and redocumenting Senegalese history”.
As I listen to explanations from teachers, Teacher Trainers, Inspectors (who assist teachers in implementation and evaluation of curriculum) from both the Senegalese government and the public school that we had visited, I again see connections between international education systems. I have had teachers who describe to me their strikes within their counties. Hearing about public school teacher strikes in Senegal is very reminiscent of my time as a Fulbright English Teaching Assistant in Colombia. People are passionate. They deserve respect in all places. And the actions here only inspire more action at home.
In Senegal, teachers are placed in their locations by the government: thus, a teacher from Dakar could be placed in Tambacoumba, miles and miles from home, and not be able to switch positions for the first three years. During the next five to ten years, they can come closer to Dakar “step-by-step”. However, the teacher strikes are less about the location you are placed, and more about salary increases. Currently, salaries are also “leveled”: teachers in Tambacoumba are paid the same amount as teachers in Dakar, regardless of cost of living, because “quality of life in each area is not the same.”
Upon visiting our first school, Mixte Maurice Delafosse High School, I can wholeheartedly say that I am always impressed by the resourcefulness of teachers. Regardless of access to internet, projectors, or textbooks, Mr. Kama (the Senegalese teacher I observed) is passionate and engaging. “Teachers no longer teach the way they were taught,” said one Inspector during our morning panel.
We were asked, “Where are all the men?”
As our Program Director stated, we are the “first cohort of all women in a lot Fulbright situations,” and I am very proud of this. I appreciate that Senegal is trying to promote more women in leadership roles, just as we are. We were told that the percentage of women in teaching roles only decreases from ~50% in elementary to less than ~20% in secondary school.
I can elaborate more about the conversations that we had with students, about the strengths (creating content) and difficulties (getting electricity to some areas) of incorporating AI, about differentiation. But I would rather end with personal reflection: as someone who feels like I have lost more than a few parts of my heritage, who does not speak the language my parents speak… the older I become, the more I reflect on my own identity. In Senegal, I am constantly impressed with the amount of French that is on almost all text I have seen (and heard), the English that explains concepts in vocabulary I may never attain in Spanish, and the Wolof I hear in all situations. I asked Dr. Gueye how many languages she speaks (four total), and Ousmane (our guide) speaks 5, not including the Chinese that he is learning at the university.
I asked Dr. Gueye if there are situations like mine, where instead there may be students who speak only French and no Wolof. “Most people speak Wolof,” she said, “but some can have 2 parents who speak Serer, move to Dakar, and they [themselves] cannot speak Serer, only Wolof.” They understand, but do not speak.
I completely understand. My parents told me that when I was three years old, I refused to respond to them when they spoke to me in Tagalog, so they stopped trying to teach me. I cannot imagine, with all of the other difficulties of integration of two cultures in general, how hard that must have been.
I can always do more, and I am inspired by others.
Day 4
April 15, 2026 – Dakar
As we drove through the Dakar morning rush hour, we watched the student commute from our bus: a variety of colors dotted the crowds as kids boarded cars rapides (small, colorful busses, similar to Filipino jeepneys) and ndiaga ndiaye (slightly larger busses painted white). As we approached the school, the number of pink and deep red uniforms increased incrementally.
“John F. Kennedy High School is a public secondary school in Dakar renowned for its historical role in the education of girls in Senegal.” Inaugurated in 1963, the school is named after JFK to honor his commitment to education and partnerships. Girls must score high on their standardized tests to attend, and after our visit, it was evident that both students and teachers loved being there.
After a short meeting with the Headmaster, I had my first glimpse of a science classroom: 50+ students, listening to their science teacher (who wore a lab coat!) discussing ecosystems and biodiversity. This is what I had been waiting to see, and although the entire session was in French (of which I have established that my knowledge is almost nothing), I was excited! Students shared one book per pair, I enjoyed persuing the textbook—something we have moved away from in our classes back home. Without a projector, the teacher easily gained students’ attention, sometimes drawing images on the board. I was even surprised at my ability to understand a few words from the board (vivants, meaning living things) because of their similarities to Spanish! The enthusiasm most students had for writing on the board (hands raised, calling for their teacher to choose them) and how calm the teacher responded each time (strategically choosing a mix of students who wanted to answer and the few who remained quieter) was impressive. The hushed applause of snaps (how they politely tried to get their teachers’ attention) filled the room each time. We were later told by the staff that science lessons are three hours long, and I am impressed with the teachers’ abilities to hold the attention of their students for double the amount of time of my own classes.
We also visited Alie Codou Ndiaye Primary School, “a public primary school named after a great Lebou hero who united Dakar in the 1940s-50s.” As someone who teaches high school, it was refreshing to say the least! I was reminded that as much as energetic as I can be, everything has its limits!
“This year, they started teaching English in elementary schools in Senegal.” I have the utmost respect for elementary teachers, especially since these teachers, all over the world, not only teach a multitude of subjects, but also foreign language courses before students can even write! “The most difficult part is to have their attention,” said the English teacher for a class of six-year-olds. Then, “pronunciation and technology” must be addressed. I am honored to have been one of the first to witness an elementary English course!
Day 5
April 16, 2026 – Saint-Louis
Today was the first day that I did not write any physical notes! This was mainly due to the fact that we had a ~5 hour drive North of Dakar to Saint-Louis (pronounced “San-Louie”, near the border of Mauritania), and time to explore! Here’s what I observed on the road trip:
- Senegalese toll roads function similarly to U.S. toll roads.
- The only thing that controls traffic patterns is the roundabout
- Lots of desert, small towns, goats, and a few camels!
- Ladoum sheep (sacrificial) may ride in the trunk of a car.
Upon arrival in Saint-Louis, we cross the Pont Faidherbe (bridge) and are welcomed in Hotel de la Poste. At four floors with a massive courtyard and pool overlooking the river, I can easily see why our hosts recommended this for our stay.
Immediately after check in, I wanted to see everything! I am reminded of all of the solo traveling that I used to do. My urge to see all that I can -to experience all that I can- is strong, and the feeling I have when I am exploring is a bit indescribable. The other Fulbrighter fellows were surprised that I already knew where I wanted to go. In less than an hour, we crossed another bridge to see Marche Ndar (the market!), Ndar Toute-plage (the beach), and the Grande Mosquee.
I have found that this intense urge to better understand, learn about, and respect other cultures sometimes clashes with not only my deeply rooted reactions, but also basic content standards as Environmental Science teacher. As we approached the beach, the amount of litter was overwhelming. Usually, litter is seen in the U.S. accumulated in sections and piles, but the expanse of trash extended for miles north and south along the coast, from eroding homes to the breaking waves.
In our state standards, we have a section on human impacts on the environment. I have reflected here more than ever about what it means to be a vegetarian (especially since I have basically eaten carbs for meals at restaurants and protein bars before bed), and friends back home have told me that I have inspired them to bring their own containers when they go out to eat in order to reduce waste from to-go containers. I have internalized plastic guilt most of the time.
But I understand that just like the coastal trash in many areas of the world (including the U.S.), I have miles to go. And while I feel incredibly sad about the state of this coastline, I also feel as though I do not understand the struggles of others. People likely already know that this is difficult. That the ocean and land need help. There may not be landfills close by or the infrastructure to clean the trash. Oceanic trash can travel for miles, and I do not know enough about currents to infer its origin. Senegal also receives illegal shipments of trash and plastic waste for processing from other countries (including the United States) and this undoubtedly contributes to the refuse on the coast. There are systemic inequities.
But these are inquiry-based topics that I can discuss with my students, while still reminding them that we are all human. That these things happen in the U.S. as well: we even clean the trash outside the school, and the number of bags that we carry inside are a testament to our own actions. That we have a lot of work to do as a nation and as individuals. To practice empathy, I must practice respect and acknowledge that my own feelings come from intersectionality as well.
Day 6
April 17, 2026 – Saint-Louis
“Traditional African women are guardians of culture and heritage,” something we heard from multiple group presentations during our first day at Lycée Charles de Guille (high school). And while I can describe my surprise upon learning that this (traditional vs. modern African and American women) was the topic of the first lesson we were to observe of our host teacher, Dominique, I think quotes from the day would be the best description:
“Who would you marry?” our host teacher asks students, to which all boys said “traditional” because:
- “They are respected.”
- “They respect their husbands.”
“Modern only cooks frozen things.”
“Modern women balance traditional and modern in their daily lives.”
“You are lucky your husband helps you around the house” (to which I said that this is actually quite common in the U.S.). When our host teacher asked the class if they would like this, all of the girls said yes, while the boys varied: I asked those who said “no” why they would not want men to also have house chores, and one student said “No, because I like free time.”
During our second class, we were able to go to the front of the room to lead the analysis of a writing piece about traditional vs. modern American women, and I am again reminded of how my ability to condense English diction for accessibility is important. I am also reminded of how proud I am to be a woman: as we passed time in the teachers’ lounge during our breaks between classes, I could not help but notice that over 2/3 of the staff consists of men.
The remainder of our day was filled with a historical tour of the island on a horse-drawn carriage and a private concert on the mainland! During the tour, I learned that the North and South were divided when development began. The northern section was more “open and greener,” consisting of the mosque, military, and community of Muslims from Morrocco. Meanwhile the South was “closed doors, more like the European life.” The Fishermen’s section to the west is the most densely populated area in all of Senegal. “They want to be near the sea, near their jobs,” our guide, Amana Sow, explained. Although the houses were significantly smaller and less developed, our host, Dominique said that some of the residents are the most wealthy people in Saint-Louis, even owning property on the mainland for rent.
At the end of the day, we listened to live music, on what we later discovered to be private property on the mainland. The band, Coche Quartet, played Cumbe, Malian, and even songs from famous pop artists in Senegal. As someone who now understands 5 phrases in Wolof, I was grateful to sit next to our host’s wife, Fatoumata: she told me that the song themes ranged, from the “attraction between man and money” to “traveling abroad for a better life”.
I am often reminded of how grateful I am to have these experiences. That my parents chose to come to the U.S. so that I can also have a better life. Walking alone through markets like Marche Tenjiquen (the largest market in Saint Louis) are some of my best moments to reflect on who I am as a person and what lead me here, to this moment. While I can see such strong similarities between Filipino, Senegalese, Colombian, and even American culture, the differences are what has made every exploration a journey in empathy. For this, and for my parents, I am truly honored to be here.
Day 7
April 18, 2026 – Saint-Louis
“This is the closest I have ever felt to a celebrity,” my co-fellow, Christy, said as we drove past students waving into the window after our cultural night at Lycee de Pikine (High School). In the second most populated area of Saint Louis, our cultural night was the kind of loud, chaotic, hilarious energy that I have loved for what seems like all of my life. The courtyard of the high school that we had just observed in the morning transformed into a concert venue, with desks gathered in a massive square around a live band surrounded by layers of students.
As we walked to the center chairs in our custom traditional Senegalese wax print dresses and head scarves (of which the print and design were entirely a surprise), I was surprised to see that the only people in our types of dresses were our Fulbright fellows. Regardless, I walked in with an intense amount of pride: our driver, Papys, had just showed us his small business, Boutique Papis. Not everyone is fortunate enough to shake hands with the talent that had designed and sewn your dress. When I asked him his name, Papis told me that he cannot speak, but that his name is Abdulraman. Honored is not enough to describe my emotions.
What I love most about traveling is the people that I meet and the laughter than I share. Few things bring people together, regardless of language, like music and dance. I am always drawn to the drums, and I was mesmerized by the number and unison if it all: one singer, two doundoun drummers, and five square hand drummers. Except for our own introductions, there was no pause in the music. The singer called us to the center multiple times, and phone cameras followed us everywhere. They wanted us to dance, and wow did we dance! I locked eyes with two of the students, mimicking their arm movements. I was pulled multiple directions, sand collecting in my shoes. The main male dancing (who I later learned was a hired professional) took my arm, stopped at each section, and told me to wave to say goodbye. The square became smaller and smaller as more students entered into the center, until a staff member said that it was time for us to go.
In the teachers’ lounge, we learned that the entire event was coordinated by students from the Student Government Association, just for us. As their teacher introduced those in leadership positions, I was thoroughly impressed with their organization.
I am constantly reminded that learning more about others, sharing cultures and experiences like these -this in its entirety is why I love being at my own school, too.
Day 8
April 19, 2026 – Saint-Louis
I truly do not think I have ever seen such dense populations of birds in succession. Or a warthog in real life.
As the third largest bird sanctuary in the world, Djoudj National Park is home to 366 different bird species who call its 16,000 acres their home. “Only Canada and the Galapagos are larger that Djoudj,” our guide, Mohamedine, told me upon returning from the boat. Although I majored in biology during undergrad, no one had ever mentioned Djoudj Park. Located an hour and a half from Saint-Louis through faint dirt roads, I feel lucky to have experienced an ornithologist’s paradise.
During our two hour visit, I documented our sightings of at least 26 (!!) different species of birds: for a full list, see below! Mohamedine told us that the high season for migration to Djoudj is in January, and it is difficult to imagine the density of birds multiplying tenfold.
After multiple sightings, I discovered that my favorite was the African spoonbill (whose name is self-explanatory). However, the Gambian goose -with its black and blue iridescent feathers and surprisingly large stature- would receive points on beauty. While some of the birds we encountered had migrated from Europe, many of the birds are native to Africa and travel only within the continent. To my surprise, Mohamedine also described other organisms that call Djoudj home: pythons, monitor lizards (which can grow up to two meters!), African golden wolves, and African golden jackals.
“There is the African Fish Eagle!” Mohamedine pointed to our right. Close by, we saw the massive nest that the eagles had built. Suddenly, from the corner of my eye, I see the faint movements of a large, almost human-sized animal in the trees. “A MONKEY!” I shouted in delight, and the entire boat turned to see the shadow of a patas monkey descend from the tree, into the bushes. As someone who practiced spotting animals on numerous Amazon boat rides this past summer, I was exceptionally proud of myself for this moment, as well as the few times I spotted new birds. Even during my walk back from the bathroom, I heard a very small, cute sound in the trees, stopped for a moment, and spotted an African morning dove. I do not think I would have had the same calm, slow manner of observation for these organisms if had it not been for my experience with the Morpho Institute, and it is astounding how much our worlds and experiences can collide.
“Mauritania is only 1 kilometer west,” Mohamedine pointed out to me in the car, “past the Senegal river.” Sometimes the expanse can feel so small.
Day 9
April 20, 2026 – Saint-Louis
Today, we taught four classes in three different schools: SUPdeCO School of Business Management (university level), Charles de Gaulle (high school), and Prive Aime Cesaire (a private school)! It was so busy that I honestly did not even notice that we visited two more classrooms than our schedule had said, but I had a great time with the students!
We were actually able to do parts of our pre-planned lesson, including culturally relevant word pairs (large/small family, “early bird” / “night owl”) and a postcard exchange between students here and those in our home classrooms. Students even answered questions that my students had written about Senegal, and they shared and explained words in Wolof that represented their culture.
While the differences between high school and university-level students is evident (especially in terms of classroom behaviors), so too are the differences between private schools and public schools. Similarly to private vs. public schools I have seen in the U.S., private schools here seem to have more funding, smaller class sizes, and better classroom behaviors. “You may see the son of a governor or another politician,” said Mr. Watt, whose private school classroom we had visited after viewing his public school classroom. Mr. Watt also told me that during his Fulbright Teacher Exchange, he observed multiple schools in Northern Virginia, including Chantilly High School (in my same school district). Because he had completed his exchange in 2024, we were likely to be in the same area at the same time! I now wonder how many times that this has happened, where I connect with someone after being so close without even knowing.
At the university, their Head of School, Ndiaga Diop, described his work to us. Not only is he the leader of the school, but he is also currently teaching classes. When we asked him the hardest part of his job, he said, “doing more than what is requested… not just administrative work, but also teaching, classes, schedules, and [field trips] to companies. More things for just one person.” He must keep track of student scores on the CAMES exams, ensuring that the school retains its “validity”, similar to accreditation in the U.S.
We even had a meeting with the principal of Charles de Gaulle, Baba Nokho. While this meeting was brief, due to his busy schedule (similar to U.S. principal schedules), it was obvious that his teachers loved his leadership. My host teacher even praised him for changing not only the financial issues of the school from the previous administration, but also the relationships and transparency between staff members. It is amazing how leadership can truly influence the environment, and I am exceptionally grateful for those in my school as well.
“We have to work together… in the right way,” Mr. Nokho said. I could not have said it better myself.
(I was also lucky enough to have some time to interview our host teacher, Dominique Sylva, about his job and the environment!)
Day 10
April 21, 2026 – Saint-Louis
“This is teranga,” Djibi said as we said our goodbyes on the beach after a fish roast dinner. As the long time friend of our host teacher, Djibi showed us his beachfront property (“compound”) on the edge of the Senegal River. “She can speak Wolof,” he said after I said “Dama wara dem ci duus bi” (where is the bathroom?), “Ba beneen” (good bye), and “Jerejef lool” (many thanks). I told him I only know maybe eleven phrases by heart now, but it is truly fun to learn another language!
Some of the English teachers have similar class structures to those I have seen in the U.S. (and how I taught English in Colombia). After observing Mr. Mambrane’s (a previous Fulbright Teacher Exchange participant to the U.S.), I was impressed with his ability to both organize his lesson and command a classroom. His listening exercise involved a conversation by phone, and seeing him break down content with his students step-by-step was refreshing: listening three times, writing words on the board, chunking material, asking comprehension questions. It was evident that he had strong relationships with students but was also highly respected, and all students seemed genuinely engaged and excited to listen.
“In the village, my family is your family, your family is my family,” my host teacher explained to his class after a student presentation regarding the differences between the village and city life. When presenting to students, we are asked questions about American culture, as well as our time in Senegal. We have said that our favorite thing about Senegal is the people we have met, and to say that I have loved learning from others would be an understatement. Openly laughing with me about the few phrases I know in Wolof (“Am naa jeker,” meaning I have a husband), the kind shop owner who gave me a keychain of a map of Senegal because he said I smiled a lot, “Senegalese time” reminding me to slow down and take things day by day. While I am basically surviving on protein bars (being a vegetarian in Senegal is not for the faint of heart), I am reminded that one of my friends in the States once told me that I “thrive in chaos”.
“Can you sing us something?” another student asked. I was taken aback, realizing that this is the first time any students have ever asked me to sing, while also grappling with repressed memories of being forced to sing when I was younger. My co-fellow and I looked at each other.
“What is something we both know?”, she asked.
“The Star Spangled Banner?” I blurted.
I should have thought for a bit longer, because there we were, singing the National Anthem to classroom of ~60 students. Stressed is not adequate enough to describe how I felt. I was sweaty, and I definitely do not sing in front of crowds, but somehow we sang entire song -albeit when students started clapping before the last line of lyrics. Students then proceeded to sing their National Anthem (among MANY other songs with dances) as a unified group!
Dal. We sometimes create our own stress for no real reason.
Our time in Senegal is almost over, and this is the first time in a while that I have had the time and energy to remember that it is okay to feel. I am constantly listening here. Observing. Taking notes about what I have experienced and how I have felt. While it is impossible to capture everything in these culminating anecdotes, clips of the day are what I can look back upon a few years from now and the feelings will surge back, just like they do when I read my entries from years prior.
But I will truly never forget the kindness of my host teachers, the people that they have forever linked us to, the stories and the laughter I shared with others.
Day 11
April 22, 2026 – Saint-Louis
Because I am writing today’s entry technically at almost 1:00 a.m. on the 23rd -it was our final night in Saint-Louis and our dinner with our host teachers started at 9:00 p.m.- I am going to end my time in Saint-Louis with quotes:
From our driver, Papys, whom I spoke to through intonations and Google Translate in the car since I do not speak Wolof or French, and he does not speak English. Somehow we were able to have many, many laughs in the car regardless:
- “You can’t drive, [in general],” when I told him I don’t know how to drive manual.
- “You are nothing,” because I am a vegetarian and do not drive stick shift. Honestly finding out that this is what he said through Google Translate may have been one of my most comedic moments this entire trip.
From the English Teachers meeting we attended:
- “Thank you for what you are doing: helping our students speak fluently.”
- “Before this, my students did not think they would understand native speakers.”
- “Knowing what is on the other side of the Earth is important”
- “I hope your exchange goes beyond this.”
- “How can you take this back to your classroom to change their view of Africa?”
From the student English Club:
- “Still, there is a way forward, if we choose it.”
- “In every silence, there is a story.”
- “Every hand we hold, we plant a seed for a better life.”
From Dominique, our host teacher:
- “We have to know our own traditions. Our culture. About who we are.”
Ba beneen, Saint-Louis. Ba ci kanam.
Day 12
April 23, 2026 – Dakar
The second day I haven’t written any physical notes! Thus, I will keep this on the shorter side.
I woke up pretty early to walk the bridge to watch the sunrise for my last morning in Saint-Louis. It is difficult to describe the act of leaving a place that has made a week-long stay feel like a month (in a good way). But I do not think I could have had a more wholesome good-bye to the city than by watching the sunrise and painting the bridge in my watercolor book.
After a 5.5 hour drive from Saint-Louis, we returned to Dakar and reconnected with the other Fulbright co-fellows whose host communities included Kaolack, Thies, and Diamniadio. I was both impressed by just how different many of our experiences were, and simultaneously grateful that I was placed in picturesque Saint-Louis, with weather comparable to Dakar: breezy, not too hot, not too cold.
We visited both the History of African Civilizations museum, as well as the African Renaissance Memorial. Because I am not afraid of heights, I would highly recommend both!
As we boarded our taxis after dinner, I pointed out the fruit in a cup that a boy was selling. “That is madd,” Ousmane said. I remembered hearing this word the previous day in Saint-Louis, when I bought sidem from the front of the school and asked our driver what they were. He showed me how to spit the sidem seed outside of the car window and said “sidem”. I showed our host teacher a picture of the madd next to the sidem, and he said it was very tasty. I was pleasantly surprised to know that this was the same fruit that I was being handed in a cup!
“I’m not that adventurous,” Dara, our Fulbright Coordinator said. While I love fruit, the strong pepper and salt flavor went straight to my eyes as I took a bite, spitting the fibrous, mini mango-like seed out of the car window as I was told. I told Dara that this is one of my favorite aspects of traveling: trying street food.
I am always excited for more adventures!
Day 13
April 24, 2026 – Dakar
“People describe Goree as ‘the door of no return,’ yet countless numbers of people are walking through this door today… if the door could speak, what would it say?”
As we walked through Goree Island, I realized just how little I know. This island became a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1978, and its residents have taken great care into the conservation of historic buildings and presentation of the Slave Trade from African perspectives. Cars are not used within the island, and many of its buildings were made from basalt (volcanic rock) and seashells melded together to create long-lasting concrete. However, there is a large gap in conflicting views on how many slaves (between 200 million to 300 million people) were transferred to the Americas. Alaji, our guide, was not only extremely knowledgeable, but also transparent with us. While wandering the museum at the Ministere de la Culture, Maison Des Esclaves, I also appreciate their emphasis on saying “human beings” to further insinuate the inhumanity of slavery. I wonder how recent the text was created (and/or when it was changed to have such language).
As our guide continued, I was consciously aware of how much I would have missed had it not been for his interpretation:
- Baobab trees that were young (100 years old) compared to others (that could be 1000+ years old).
- Mulatto women who were able to have social status on the island, but also kept those enslaved.
- For 400 years, traders financed by kings and queens would be required to bring a minimum of 20,000 captives annually for licenses to trade.
- A dark cell for 15 girls, and an even smaller cell for 40+ men.
- Miniscule cells for punishment, with ceilings so short that people could not stand for
I used to love AP U.S. history when I was in high school. Even then, we did not discuss the Transatlantic Slave Trade the same way that they do here. With more emotion. More accuracy.
“Becoming conscious of the past is the first duty if a people” -Leopold Sedar Senghor, first President of Senegal (1956).
At the African Renaissance Monument yesterday, they described the child being held, pointing to the Statue of Liberty, while the woman’s hand is extending to the past in memorial. I am reminded that I should be more aware of both the past and current events. Of my own history as well as the shared history of us. And of what more I can do in the future.
Day 14
April 25, 2026 – Dakar
It’ll be weeks, maybe years, until you fully process this experience” – Dara, our Fulbright Coordinator for Senegal.
As we close the last day of this journey, I am reminded of how I likely would not have known Senegal if it were not for the Fulbright Program. During my exchange, I fell back in love with community stories. I experienced living in a predominantly Islamic community, inspiring new perspectives. There are so many similarities between Senegalese culture to my own, but the differences have made my experience uniquely beautiful.
“The best story is just as valid to one student as it is to a thousand students.” What story can I tell? My worldviews have expanded. There have been moments of empathy and sadness that have reminded me of my own past, of what my family endured to make a better life for their children in the U.S. I have felt joy at non-linguistic communication between those who do not speak the same language (especially our driver, Papys). Excitement consumed me as we explored Djoudj National Park, and courage pushed me forward when walking around markets and watching sunrises solo. Above all, my curiosity for others when spending time with locals was fueled. I was constantly impressed with the true feeling of community: my friends would address almost everyone we passed on the street -they knew everyone by name.
While religion, food (especially with me being a vegetarian), and language differences were abundantly clear, the subsurface values of time, family dynamics, sexuality, humor, and community allowed me to better understand Senegalese culture. The education of girls has a long way to go, but I am reminded that we still have a lack of representation in the U.S. as well, especially in STEM careers. Issues stemming from infrastructure are prevalent, but resilience endures. “We can learn the value of education from others,” one of my co-fellows mentioned.
In my personal classroom, I have more understanding of not only biological diversity and migration patterns, but also coastal erosion and the effects of pollution. I am also reminded that my job is to create a class community where students feel free to share their own cultures, to tell their own stories. This experience has opened an entire section of the world that I may not have ever truly known: Western Africa. I am honored to have been on this journey with other brilliant educators, who have shared laughter and tears with me, who have been vulnerable and open-minded. As I reflect, I am reminded that I am not alone in my urge for exploration, understanding, and empathy. And I am excited to continue to support my students through accessible content, with more passion than ever for the intersection of language, environmental education, and human impacts.
Somehow, all of the experiences that I have had, all of the decisions of my family in the past, have lead me here. How lucky I am to have this life.
