SENEGAL MEETS RICK

My Dad just came!! I feel like I was preparing for his visit for so long, and then it just happened so fast. He came in to help with an eye clinic Peace Corps was putting on in my regional capital.

Dad at Work

We had a group of American doctors come over to perform surgeries/consultations and to teach the Senegalese doctors an appropriate method for removing cataracts. We got my Dad involved, and bing, bang, boom…Poppa Brooks comes to town. It was so cool to not only just see him but to also work with him.  Ya’ll should have seen him.  Patients gathered early and they stayed late.  He was like robot-seeing patients from sun-up to sundown. It was a task just to get him to take a lunch break. I was so proud.  His equipment was old, and his patients were anything but normal, but he tirelessly checked eye after eye, and set them up for surgery.  I mainly translated or filled prescriptions for glasses, but I did get to see a couple surgeries, and I even touched a cataract.  So, Poppa Brooks’ first week in Senegal was purely work with a few days of travelling interspersed.

In his second week, though, he became “Omar Sow.” After a somewhat prolonged day of travel by bush-taxi, the second my Dad got into Saare Boyli, he was bombarded- by kids, by men, by women, by cows, by sheep… you name it. Now, I had planned for us to arrive in village wearing matching complets, but after a little incident on the bush taxi with some paint thinner, I ended up with a small chemical burn, so the matching outfits didn’t quite make it all the way to village, but here’s a picture of what we should have looked like before we left that morning.

Matching Complets!

In village, “Omar” got to hang out with the chief (my host dad), go to a wedding, take everyone’s photo about 19 times, and eat with his hands. I’m not sure he was sold on village food, but he did a great job avoiding his left hand at all times. 

Babba and Poppa

My dad is now one of the lucky few who have actually seen a chicken run around with its head cut off, and then see that same chicken in his food bowl.   Someone should get him an award.  In fact someone should get him an award just for staying three days in Saare Boyli- my village can wear out a team of American Gladiators. One thing my village did give my Dad was a namesake.  Now, God willing, little “Ricky” will be running around the African bush for years to come. 

Dakar was our next stop before his journey back to Amerik.  Here we got to see the statue (bought and paid for by the Senegalese government, designed and built by the North Koreans), go to Goree Island (the point of no-return for millions of slaves), get ripped off by cab drivers, and buy some sweet souvenirs.  

Thanks North Korea?

All in all, it went by too fast. I know he had to give up a lot to come here (my apologies to all those I inconvenienced by his closed office for the 2 weeks he was gone), and I am so grateful for his visit.   It is so cool skyping and talking with him now that he can put places and names with my stories.  Thanks to all those who helped to make it happen …and maybe let’s start working on getting Momma Brooks out here next!