By Simone Moss

The group was sitting in our meeting spot on our second to last day at Hakuna Lodge and getting ready for one of our many daily discussions. Mr. Alter’s 4 year old niece, Sulo, was running around the circle and giving everyone a new name for fun. After giving Will the title of ‘Blue Sunglasses’ and CJ ‘Pretzel Face’, I was ready to have a big laugh at what she would name me. 

In the few days before that, we had spent the majority of our time in the Sine Saloum area exploring and relaxing as a group to get ready for the rest of our trip. The downtime I had in between our group activities was largely made up of running around the island with Sulo and Maya, keeping ourselves entertained by making up as many abstract games as we could. We played mermaids on the beach, jumped on the trampoline, and ran around with our soccer ball. 
When it finally came time for Sulo to give me a new name, I had no idea what she would call me. She looked at me for a few seconds, gave me a big smile, and said, “You are ‘Girl of the World.’” While Sulo is only 4 years old, she is very intelligent for her age and has already taught me so much on what it means to be truly curious (for example, last night at dinner, she asked, “has nature always been here?”). After hearing that, I felt a new kind of motivation to live up to such a great title. I kept on thinking to myself, what does it really mean to be Girl of the World? 

We were told that Sulo and her family would not be joining us at the village, so I knew that once we left Hakuna, I needed to let myself fully experience where we were going and be curious about everything I saw in order to fully find out what my new name meant, and to be able to tell Sulo of my new adventures. 

The next day, a few of us decided to attend Catholic mass at the nearest village. There are no cars on the island, so we ended up taking a horse cart, which was driven by Souleymane. He had also taken us to and from the village the day before, and we had lighthearted conversation translated by Mr. Smith in between our carts. On the way to mass, I started to play downloaded music from my phone, and Souleymane immediately requested a song by Nicki Minaj. We all laughed and bonded over our similarities in music taste, and from there, we became fast friends. 

On the way back, he had written his name and phone number on a piece of paper, and Maya spent the entire ride back to the village using her limited, but very effective, French to allow deeper conversation (thank you Maya!!). When the ride was over, we gave hugs, said goodbye, witnessed Blake’s first ever Senegalese wrestling match against Souleymane, and promised to call him once we got back to America. My experience meeting Souleymane taught me the openness of the Senegalese people, and encouraged me to have that same openness for the rest of the trip. 

After packing our things and leaving at around 6 in the morning the next day, we left Hakuna and were on the way to Niognani. Through our 12 hour trip through Senegal, we stopped in all different kinds of places and met many new people. Through simple stops at gas stations, eating at a small restaurant for lunch, and simply looking out the window, it was easy to see the same kind of openness Souleymane showed me. Once I started paying attention, looking out the window and returning a smile or wave to someone on the street made a 12 hour drive seem like minutes. 

We arrived in Niognani (Kecouta’s village) at sunset, and before we put the vehicles in park, we were already surrounded by around 40 kids. I stepped out of the van and before I knew it, my hands and shirt were being grabbed in all directions by some of the local girls. That night, we were given a tour of the village, and had some time to play. The same girls who had greeted me at my arrival had kept on finding me and playing with me throughout the night until I was too exhausted to play another game. 

The next day was spent playing soccer and running around until we physically couldn’t anymore. The same girls from the day before had found me, and had a new addition. One of them had a baby tied onto her back with a large piece of fabric. She looked at me, pointed to the baby, and gave me a thumbs up. I thought she was asking me if I liked the baby, but when I responded with a nod to agree, the girls immediately got to work untying the baby and strapping her on to me. I panicked, and wondered how in the world the girls could trust me to carry their baby on my back when I had known them for less than 24 hours. 

Nonetheless, within a few minutes, I was walking around the village with a newborn bobbing around and accompanied by the girls who were responsible for her. This simple act of the girls giving me, pretty much a complete stranger (from my perspective at the time), a precious newborn, taught me the trust that is in the Senegalese people. Now, I know that they did not see me as a stranger, but as a friend and sister that they had not met yet. 

After that experience, it was not hard to see that same value of trust throughout the local area. There was not a single lock in the village, or a restriction on where we could or could not go. The feeling of being trusted and trusting someone else brought a calm and joy to everyone around, and showed us the true feeling of ‘herracita,’ meaning ‘all is good, all day’ in the Mandinka language. 

While I met so many kids during our time in the village, there was one who I connected with on a deeper level. The first time I interacted with Samba, I was eating dinner after our tour of the village. He came up from behind me and covered my eyes, initiating a game of Guess Who. I joked around with him for a bit, and after finally guessing correctly, I opened my eyes and gave him a high five. To be honest, I expected the rest of my interactions with him to be playful, like they were with the other kids. However, he’s one of Kecouta’s sons, so he was around us a lot more, giving me more time to get to know him.  

On the surface, Samba was a playful, but well behaved kid. The more time went by, the more I could see a side of him that he doesn’t boast about or show off for the approval of others. In quiet moments, Samba takes time to make his family and his friend’s lives easier. He takes his duties around the village very seriously, whether it’s tending to the fire in the morning, caring for his younger siblings, or even offering to help carry something for me while I’m walking around. Samba’s duality of being a lively but also wholehearted and dedicated person made it so much easier to spend time with him. He was often one of the last of the younger siblings to go to sleep, and always the first to pay attention and volunteer when Kecouta or Mr. Alter had a task to give out. 

The more time went by in this village, the more I realized that I had found my counterpart – “Boy of the World.”  Although we are so different, we had so much to share with each other and learn from each other.  While he is from a village of 250 people and I am from a city of 2,000,000, we could share the same space and moments and really be present together.  Although he is in middle school and I am about to finish high school, I felt I could learn how to be more responsible from following his example.  Although Samba and I will have different paths through life because of the different resources we have, he will continue to be “Boy of the World” because of the core of who he is.  Just as I will do my best to be “Girl of the World” by keeping his teachings in my heart. 

And before I got in the van to leave Niognani, I gave him a hug and said a simple phrase, “Je’ T’aime,” or “I love you” in English. Samba smiled back at me, grabbed my shoulder and gave me a knowing smile. He communicated with me as he did in our time getting to know each other, not with words, but with love. The only words he said back to me, which were rare enough for him, were “Je T’aime Simone.” 

The amount of love I developed for him in such a little amount of time still stuns me as I write this, and like most things that I felt in that village, it cannot be explained. It is a truly magical place, and I believe that Samba is a big reason and representation of why Niognani is so special. The respect I have for his sense of responsibility helped me to understand this widespread value in Senegalese culture. Trust me when I say that I miss him already and cannot wait to see the person he grows up to be. 

The last instance that I felt affected me in a large way in the past few days was actually happening all the time during our stay in Niognani. As Ramadan has just started last week, most people around us have not been able to eat or drink during the day as that is part of their religion. This included both of Kecouta’s wives, Sirah and Fanta. Behind the scenes, these two women were cooking all of our meals, most of which were during the day, when they were fasting. 

I don’t know about you, but if I was fasting from sunrise to sunset, the last thing I would want to do is be around food. The selflessness that these women showed us through putting their hearts into cooking and feeding our large group did not go unnoticed, and helped me to see the true work ethic and sacrifice that Senegalese people put in to their community everyday. 

The more time I spend here, the more I realize that Senegal will forever stay in my heart. The people I have met are the beating heart of Senegal and will stay with me through their curiosity, openness, trust, responsibility, and selflessness. As I keep all of this close to me, this place, these people, and these values will all help me be worthy of my new title as Girl of the World.  

P.S. – Anyone can be a Boy or Girl of the World. You don’t need to travel across countries or continents, or be perfect by any means. Be curious and open to learning from everything around you, and that is enough. Herracita!