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Dakar 2022 – Part 1

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“When I landed in Senegal August of 2018 I stepped onto the ground of my 37th country. I was well traveled yet at this point in my life it was no longer something to brag about. It became just who I was. I was 33 and finally discovering my passions turning into reality as I became a teacher to some incredible third culture kids (TCKs). They saw the world in a direction that I wanted to open up for them. I breathed in every opportunity and friendship I could handle that first year. 

Nothing held me back. Culture shock wasn’t even a thing to me any more… except for one thing. Dating. Like it or not – the moment you sign up for any American Christian church/organization/mission-thing your once culturally “normal” way of dating is done. It just is. You have to get creative or pray really hard. Sometimes both. The only reason I noticed this upon landing in Senegal is because my previous US roommates had started online dating and so had I. Right before leaving the country (again). I know. Timing was dumb. 

Most of that first year I thought and prayed about this one thing I was giving up to be in Senegal. It wasn’t “that big” right? I was 33 and at this point only my Grandmother was telling people I better get married before my eggs die. (Not to my face of course) I did trust God with my love life the same I had been the previous decades. My singleness didn’t hurt me or ever make me question God’s goodness. It  just got me more curious about God’s creativity.* Fortunately, I also had dozens of fantastic students and friends to invest in while I was marinating on details of my life that were yet to be determined. 

(*Roommate and I did try an online dating app that first year… one bad date and a night of karaoke with British sailors was all we got.)

Each fall our school asks the teachers and staff to look at their contract in hopes to consider signing on for a longer term. I remember this day that first year clearly. HR came to me offering a good pitch if I signed on for a full four year teaching contract. Yes, it sounded good. Yes, I loved my job. No, I had nothing else planned. No, I had no red flags… except one. I did the girl thing and counted my age in my head… “If I stayed another 3 years after this, I would be… 37 when I finish. My eggs will be dead for sure. Thanks, Grandma.” Anyone else get those kinds of thought bubbles? Short story short, I relented and signed on the additional years to extend my contract. I’d be old. But God knew that. I just wanted to do what I loved doing for that season. 

Then came COVID. As much as COVID sucked/sucks, in a way, it brought the world together a bit with such a weird shared experience. In Senegal, our school was shut down in March of 2020. We continued online throughout that semester, wore masks and there were months under a city-wide curfew. Life wasn’t horrible. Lots of quality time with the friends who were stuck behind and didn’t choose to evacuate to their home country. Quality time with friends who casually mention to me our co-worker Enza.

Um. (Insert middle school-age me mildly freaking out and way too shy to talk to guys… ok, done) What about him? Our school isn’t that big. But all my business was with the bigger kids, middle school and high school. All of his business was with the elementary kiddos. You know, the ones that are always screaming and somehow mysteriously sticky, like, all the time. Our teacher paths never crossed, but I always heard good things about him. I was asked to make him a “Mr Enza Appreciation” video my first year. I got a quick, “Thanks!” from that. All in all, cool, but I thought he had a girlfriend. 

Turns out he didn’t. (Found that out way later… though I was always too afraid to ask him) Because we were, like most people during the summer of 2020, stuck in one area with no where to go and nothing to do – we had lunch. It came about from a few too many friendly texts and really bad coordination. The first time we tried (as friends) to meet up for lunch he was nearly 2 hours late before I just left. We tried the next week. We met up at a popular little café. We ate food. We tried to talk like we knew each other. (Insert awkward face and pause) But we tried. I still thought he had a girlfriend and still thought he was just being friendly. Nothing “vibed”. Home I went. 

10 MONTHS LATER… yes, that’s right. He was shy. I was clueless. I’m not saying nothing was happening. This is where it gets good. The good stuff happens in the waiting though we don’t realize it. That Spring of 2021 I was praying and praying and praying for Enza. We were friends that connected through text just enough. I would see him after school on occasion to say hi. He was friendly. But to care for my heart which belonged to the Lord, I prayed and prayed first. I had NO idea Enza was even thinking about me. Didn’t matter. My emotions and thoughts were laid before the Lord often. And God was doing something greater than I knew. Each time I prayed for Enza, God confirmed to me HOW MUCH Enza was loved by God. SO MUCH. To me that was enough. Whether we would stay just friends or something else. Something else happened that 10 months later: He. Finally. Asked. Me. Out!” – Caitlin Woodward