I don’t care what these are really called. To me, they are Senegalese turkeys. And they won’t shut up.

When I was a kid, we had one of those spill-proof ceramic coffee mugs that said, ‘Don’t let the turkeys get you down’. While I always thought this was a neat-looking cup, I never really understood what the saying meant. I never understood it, that is, until I got older and didn’t want to understand it.

Now that I’ve lived in places that turn my assumption of chaos completely on its head, I totally understand what that mug means (and further I suspect that the ‘turkeys’ in my parents’ case were us kids).  

As a toubab living in West Africa, I can tell you that this mug is incredibly appropriate for places like here. To wit: I am constantly reminding myself that, “if you’re not laughing, you’re crying” when something dawdles mindlessly into my planned daily trajectory. This phrase is key to maintaining one’s sanity, and what I have found equally as important is surrounding yourself with allies who will listen with profound empathy as you tell them, “Guess what shit happened to me today…”

After you have collectively endured endless trials of patience, these sympathetic ears become people who will always share a special bond with you. They are the ones who you may not have seen coming into your life, but they become friends whose absence you anticipate and mourn once you sense them moving away again on their own life trajectory.

The military is one of those occupations that mandate itinerancy. As an old co-worker of mine used to say, “You’re only ever about two years from rotating into a new job that you don’t know you hate yet.” He was only half-kidding of course, but I think he was on to something with respect to our line of work.

The good thing about the military is that if you don’t like your particular billet, you just need to wait a little while until it’s time to move on again. It’s the same thing when you serve alongside people who drive you a little nuts. They are much easier to tolerate when you remember that sooner or later one of you is going to be out the door and headed for a new assignment.

But along with the crazy people (and I am undoubtedly counted in this category), you also must bid goodbye to the really good ones. It’s a reality of this lifestyle that I always find a little bittersweet- because you always hate to see the good ones go.

Much like the turkeys coming in and messing with your day, coming and going is a natural part of life’s wheel of fortune. I accept this fact, and as I have gotten older I’m not so much filled with sadness when I say goodbye as I am filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having met some really incredible people. These are the folks who helped keep your sanity above the fray, and alsi ket you know that they too are dealing with the same damn fool turkeys out on the roads of Dakar.   

With an indomitable spirit, this chick has brought so much sunshine into so many lives over the past year. And she has also gotten me to finally appreciate the fine flavor of Flag. 

Ba beneen yoon, Laurie and Justin. Please tell the Marine Corps thanks from Megan for sending you guys out here and helping to keep at least one girl’s sanity level balanced. You will be missed, but I know we’ll be seeing each other again. For better or for worse, the military’s a damn small world.

(Hey, thanks too for the Pastis, tuna, Kraft Mac and Cheese and canned peas. With provisions like that, you know that I’ll be toasting you guys very, very soon.)