By Blake Berry

Most people would argue that life should be about constantly striving to find the feeling of constant happiness and joy. But what does joy actually look like? During my time visiting Bandia’s house, staying in Niognani, and, most of all, playing soccer under a tree in the center of the village with local kids, I learned the real meaning of the word.

For many people in America, happiness is supposed to come from material possessions; big houses, fancy cars, or nice things. We think that buying these luxury items will eventually and necessarily bring joy to our lives. Although I haven’t had the chance to speak directly about happiness with the people we’ve met in Senegal, it’s evident where joy is found here. It’s obvious simply watching and engaging with daily activities. Looking at the smiles on the little kids’ faces after the scored a goal on their makeshift field said it all to me.

Playing soccer with the kids on their sandy, root-filled field with sticks as the goal posts made me discover something about the game of soccer. I’ve been playing my whole life, not because of the winning, or goal scoring, or even the intense training that I’ve invested so much time into – it’s the act of accomplishing something together as a team and living solely in the moment, only focusing on one thing that keeps me going. But here, I’ve also realized that the human connection that soccer has offered me in my life is the true reason I love playing so much. I would have never thought that kids much younger than me, who don’t even speak my language, would be able to teach me such a lesson about something I love and thought I already understood.

But these lessons are visible in other places one might look. The kids in Niognani found happiness in the smallest things, from holding our hands to trying to figure out how to say complicated things without language. It wasn’t something huge or a planned activity that brought them joy, it was the experience of human connection. We all loved that. But it wasn’t just like that in the small village where Kecouta lives with his family either, it was also prominent in the small village we visited near Hakuna Lodge on one of our first days. When touring the village, there was a singular man who really stood out to the group.

We took a long tour of the village and as we were walking down a sandy street, this man gets up from where he was sitting and lunges at us and yells. At the moment, so new to Senegal, we were all a little frightened. But, now that I understand the place better, the man was clearly only joking with us. He probably wanted to Senegalese wrestle with us (which is now one of my favorite pass-times). The reason I write these examples isn’t to argue that this or any culture is better than another, but to make clear that it’s obvious material possessions don’t decide the joy people feel. So often back home, we find people rich with money, yet drowing in depression. And, to be honest, that’s just obviously not a thing here.

After living in Senegal now for more than a week and experiencing so many different parts of their wonderful culture first-hand, it’s obvious that one only needs human connection and the simple act of living in the moment to feel true joy. When I get back to the US, this is what I am going to try to implement into my daily life, and, if everyone tries this, I’m sure our places would be much happier and joyful places to live.