This country is beautiful—and it has so much to teach me.
Today, I attended a professional development session for tech teachers focused on Microsoft Word and PowerPoint. I learned so much—not just about the tools themselves, but about what teaching with technology looks like in Senegal.
One of the biggest takeaways? Teachers here have to buy their own equipment. Most classrooms don’t have laptops, and only some of the larger or better-funded schools have access to any tech at all. There’s no guarantee that teachers will ever receive equipment to teach with—it’s entirely dependent on the school’s resources.
And yet, the teachers were so creative and resourceful.
One tip I picked up that I’m definitely bringing back to my own classroom: In coding, we number every line to help find bugs more easily. In Senegal, teachers apply that same idea to reading—by numbering the lines of a Word document passage so students can easily refer to specific parts while discussing. Genius.
Next time I do a reading activity, I’m using that trick for sure!
After the teacher PD, we visited Potou Beach and the garden of one of the teachers who attended.
Potou Beach felt like an untouched piece of paradise—warm water, beautiful skies, and the kind of quiet, peaceful enjoyment that stays with you.
It was so natural, so welcoming, and so undisturbed. As I stood there taking it all in, I had a quiet thought:
Should places like this remain hidden? Is there value in being unknown—so that the peace and beauty can last longer, untouched by crowds and development?
It was a moment of stillness that made me appreciate just how many wonders this country holds, and how lucky I am to witness them.
The “teacher gardens” turned out to be more like a full farm—and a lemon orchard!
We got to walk through rows of plants, learn about different crops, and even help harvest some onions. One of the most inspiring parts? The way the whole village comes together during harvest time. Everyone pitches in—and in return, they receive some of the produce.
It was brilliant, and like so much of what I’ve experienced in Senegal so far, deeply community-oriented.
This kind of collective support and shared effort is something I’ll be thinking about for a long time.
I don’t want to forget the funniest thing I saw today: Someone casually running—with a monkey on a leash trailing behind them!
When I asked about it, my host was completely shocked that I’d never seen it before. “Of course! That’s normal here,” he said.
Just another amazing reminder that what’s ordinary in one place can feel extraordinary in another.