7 March 2004

Hello.  Ive gotten reprimanded from some people for not posting in so long, so I decided that today is the day to fix that.  A lot has happened since my last update, which is the reason I havent had time to sit down and do this until now.  January was a bit of a blur, and my mind is drawing blank of things to mention from that month, so Ill just focus on February- luckily still fresh in my sadly stagnant mind.  February was a busy month filled with a week-long trip up-country, a weekend trip Dakar, Senegal, and my parents' 10-day visit to The Gambia including a trip up-country to Janjangbureh (that included monkeys, hippos, late-night boat rides, and so much more).  It was hectic, it was great, and it's going to take me several entries to cover it all, so be patient with me.  I did post 2 pics from my Mom & Dad's trip here, so feel free to check that out today.

The very beginning of February was Tobaski (Eid-Ul-Adha)- one of the biggest Islamic Holy Days of the year.  It commemorates that the Prophet Ibraham (Abraham)'s son was saved from being offered as a sacrifice only by total submission, strong belief and complete reliance on Allah (God) alone.  Every family slaughters a ram and there are two days of prayers and meat-eating and visiting with family and friends.  I was invited to spend the holiday with my friend Isatou's family (she is an assistant technical trainer for the Agriculture and Environment sector here for Peace Corps).  She lives on the north bank of the river in Central River Division.  Her village is called Njau and it is very close to the Senegalese border.  She is a Wollof, and so is most of Njau.  There is a portion of the village which is Fula, basically considered a village-within-a-village. 

Isatou and I have become very good friends, and when Jamie came last year, Isatou had Jamie take her Gambian name so that they could be tomaas (namesakes).  I have gotten to know her family members who stay around the capital, and her son is here now that he is in the 7th grade.  He was first in his class last year, so she wanted to be sure that he went to a good school.  Anyhow, I've gotten to know quite a few people from the Women's Group that Isatou helps run in Njau.  They focus on local-language literacy, skills training (typing, crocheting, etc) and income-generating activities (tie-dye, soap making, etc.).  This is the group that crochets the change purses and bags which you may have seen while I was home in October.  At least 2 women from the group travel to each of the HIV/AIDS Exhibitions I have mentioned in previous posts.  So, I have several friends there in Njau, but had never even seen the place.  I decided I had to take the opportunity to spend the holiday with Isatou, her 2 sons and the rest of her family.  It was a wonderful trip, a bit of a rough start though...

I was to travel with Isatou's neice (Fatim Jobe), her sister (Channy Ceesay) and Channy's 8-yr old son Sarjo Sanneh.  We were forced to wait until the day before the prayers since we were working one of these exhibitions in Banjul.  We knew that there would be a lot of other people traveling from this area back to their villages for the holiday, so it was going to be a struggle to get transport.  We knew enough to plan to be at the Ferry Terminal early enough to get a spot on the first ferry (7am).  I was told to be ready at my house by 5am- and even though some of you would have a hard time believing it... I actually was!  They are lucky that their brother is a taxi driver, so he was able to bring us into Banjul, but they didn't get to my house until close to 6am, and I was nervous that was going to put us behind schedule, but you know "Gambian Time..."  I knew we were in trouble when we sat in TRAFFIC waiting to get into Banjul that early in the morning- we didn't get to the ferry terminal until close to 7am, I'm trying to keep my cool trusting that we'll still be able to make it.  As we got out of the car I threw my pack on my back and then watched as they pulled out an amazing load to carry, including a double-sized foam mattress rolled up.  It became very clear that in addition to each of their bags, they did not have enough hands to carry everything.  So, with 2 hands free, I helped carry one of the heavy bags and one end of the mattress (easier said than done in the dark streets of Banjul watching for sleeping dogs, open sewers, etc.).  All I could do was laugh as we walked very assuredly towards the ferry terminal and came to realize that the line was already reaching several blocks down the street.  Trying to guess in retrospect I would say that there were close to 150 people in the line on the street, and that does not include people who had already made it inside the terminal to buy their tickets.  Needless to say, we were not going to make the first ferry!  So, there we were- tired, cold (yeah, that's right!) and a little bit cranky so early in the morning.  It was amazing and embarrassing how many wanna-be con-artists tried to approach me (mind you, only me) to tell me they could help me move ahead in line, or get me a ride in one of the pirogues (the small boats we are NOT allowed to use to cross the river so close to the ocean).  Anyway, Channy helped me deflect all of the bumsters and creeps.  After waiting over 2 hours in line (first ferry long gone by this time) I noticed 2 white guys approaching me- I would guess that they were around my age.  They were obviously hoping to cross too with their packs on their backs, so they were asking how long I had been waiting.  When I told them, they informed me that they "could not" wait that long, and would I mind if they stood in line with us (now within spitting distance to the ticket window).  I in turn informed them that I was fairly certain that all the more than 150 people behind us in line might have a problem with that, they didn't seem to care.  So, I asked them where they were going.  It turns out they were in the middle of a trek across West Africa, from here heading up to St. Louis, Senegal.  Fine, but then I asked them if they were aware of the Muslim Holy Day... "Oh yeah, I think I read about that somewhere..."  So, I explained that everyone in line was traveling to their respective homes to be with their families loaded with gifts and food to present to the family.  They again mentioned that they couldn't afford the time to wait to cross since they would have several other vehicle transfers, etc. before they would reach their destination.  I tried to explain that they would face this same sort of situation at every one of those transfers.  I suggested that they spend a few more days in The Gambia before moving on since none of their plans were very time-specific.  That's when they told me they were bored by the one day they spend in a hotel here.  Now I am annoyed.  They try to make conversation, asking how long I had been in Africa, and what I did here.  When I told them that I was working with the Peace Corps, one of them said- "Oh, Peace Corps..." with a curl of his lip and a tone I did NOT much appreciate.  I asked him if he had met many of us in their travels (there are a lot of us in West Africa), he said no, but he was "accused" of being Peace Corps several times.  I've heard this from other tourists, and what they mean is that people assume they can speak local languages and know how to do get around... sorry for the inconvenience, I'm sure it's as annoying for them as it is for us when people "accuse" us of being tourists and assume that we need help.  You know the tone I didn't like before- it continued as he said, "what do you guys even DO here?"  I tried to unclench my teeth while explaining the 3 sectors PCVs in The Gambia work with, then I wondered if my Gambian travel companions actually thought I was letting them in line, so I mentioned again that they should really get in line if they wanted to cross that day.  Instead of going to the back of the line, though- they went further ahead and as soon as we could see the ticket window, the security guards started getting pissed at everyone trying to push their way into a side gate without waiting in line, so they did a little crowd control/intimidation thing that I wont get into now.  Anyway, everyone was pushing each other to get away from that gate, and then I noticed that the security guard was starting to yell at those 2 British boys who'd been trying to cut in line he was totally calling them out on it.  They tried to play it off like theyd been waiting in line the whole time, but I think someone had ratted them out- and I was secretly very glad.  Well, I was glad until I realized that the security guard who was freaking out at them and lifting his baton like he would hit them- he thought that I was WITH them- as if!  Channy noticed the situation and pulled me over to her side to separate me from those guys.  Then much more pushing ensued, and Channy and I were desperately trying to use the mattress as a shield to protect her son while trying to hold our place in line.  In all of that chaos I failed to keep one protective hand on my purse, and sure enough, someones hand mustve wandered inside, and my change purse got lifted.  If I wasn't already so stressed out it wouldve really messed me up.  Luckily I was able to get perspective pretty quickly- they took the one that I kept only small bills in, not my IDs, not my big bills, and they missed their opportunity to get my mobile (phone).  Eventually we managed to get our tickets and make our way into the insanely crowded waiting room, where we had to wait for over an hour again before we could actually get on the ferry. 

So you think that the trip got better from there, don't you?  Well, the ferry ride went fine.  When we got to the car park in Barra (the town where the ferry docks), we met with a sight that did nothing to help our cynicism about reaching our final destination.  You see, there were hundreds of people sitting around waiting for cars just like we would have to do.  I wouldve been OK with the waiting if I had seen ANY cars what were we really waiting for if there are no cars?  Don't worry, one finally came- and was promptly surrounded by a mob of about 50 people (only room for 14-20 inside mind you).  So, the driver didn't even stop the car, people just jumped inside when they could and it was gone and we were left with just the crowds and the dust once again.  Good thing there were food sellers around- some bread and a nice fresh orange did a lot to calm the nerves.  At this point I was really considering heading back to Banjul since I was pretty sure that I was just going to be an inconvenience to my travel companions, one more person to worry about.  But, Fatim came back from wandering around saying quietly that we should follow her, she found a truck that was headed up to a village near Njau where we could easily get transport back to their place.  So, we walked a distance from the car park into the residential area of the town where I saw our intended vehicle... an open-backed big ol truck lorry.  It all came clear- we were going to ride as cargo, for what was sure to be at least a 4 hour trip over some bumpy dirt roads.  Luckily the sides of the back were so high that it gave some shade, so I resolved myself to the situation as we bumped towards the edge of town at about 1pm (7 hours after leaving my house).  Well, then- what I didnt expect (but really should have) did in fact happen a herd of people came bounding towards the truck, and all scaled the sides of the back and climbed in with us.  By the time they finally started telling people there was no more room, we must've had about 50, maybe more like 75 people crammed together- were talking cattle car scene! 

Then, this may be hard to believe, but it was HOT, and we all began sweating and panting.  Luckily there was a police stop about an hour later where someone was selling cold water (still a chunk of ice in mine- Alhoumdulilah = Thank God!).  We continued to bump on along until just after 7pm when we reached the trucks final destination.  From there, the last leg of our trip went smoothly- Alhumdulilah!  We jumped out of the truck and found our way to a car that would take us to Njau, and we only had to wait about 30 minutes for it to fill and get on the road.  By the time we reached Njau it was dark, I want to say it was close to 9pm, but I think at that point I was incapable of telling time, so who knows!  There was a blur of meeting Isatou's family and taking a bucket bath and eating some dinner before crashing.  In the morning the excitement and activities of Tobaski would begin, so it was good that I slept a deep, restful sleep.  Ill tell you more about the Holy Day in the next post, I think its time to finish this one up!

Take care of yourselves and each other.

11 May 2003

Happy Mothers Day to my Mom (Kath), my sister (Carrie) and all of the other mothers who are reading this.  I dont have enough brain power to write a full message today- I only had 1 hour of sleep last night, and about 4 the night before (a shameful cry from my usual 7-9 hours).  I was up-country visiting the hometown of our President (Dr. Alhaji Yahyah AJJ Jammeh) for a Gambian and African Cultural Program.  It was really fun- a 2 bull-led cart ride for ~ 10km from a fellow PCVs village to the actual event in Kanali, dancing, costumes, masks, singing, drumming, Kora-playing, wrestling into the wee hours of the morning, it was fun, but exhausting.  We made the ~3 hour trip Saturday afternoon, and I was back by 11:30 am this morning, so it was a bit of a whirlwind-type thing.  The stretch of road between Kanali and Kombo gets pretty rough at some points- and it was so dusty that my eyes are all messed up and I had to rinse off the layer of dirt and dust from my face and arms.  Myself and the rest of the passengers in out bushtaxi rode most of the trip with some sort of cloth over our mouths to help spare our noses and lungs from all of that mess.  I am sure it helped, but Im feeling rather gritty right now, so I will make this brief. 

Tomorrow I am supposed to help a co-worker teach a group of nursing students about Nutrition and HIV/AIDS, which should be good. Then I will spend the rest of the day and most likely all day Tuesday at the Royal Victoria Hospital (RVH) doing more observations in the kitchen, seeing what trainings, equipment, resources, etc. would help raise the standards of food safety and nutritional adequacy of the meals prepared there.  Im also going to spend some time in the Pediatric Nutrition Ward- where they treat the severely malnourished children, then hopefully get acquainted with the staff at the Diabetic/NCD Clinic.  So, it should prove to be an interesting week- Im sick of just sitting in the NaNA office waiting for my counterparts to realize what needs to be done.  So, I decided to spend my time doing something that they dont have time to do right now, then we can work together from there.  They are all just too busy with their other programs too see the value in doing this getting to know what is really going on in the field thing- they woud prefer to walk in, do a training and walk out.  So, I will try to fill in some of the gaps for now, then just assist as needed in the formation of a game plan and implementation of those plans. 

(OK, so much for brief.) 

The major news I was going to write (that I cant believe I havent written already) is that my younger sister, Jamie, is coming to visit!  I am beyond excited- shes going to arrive this Friday and will be here for a whole month.  Itll be great to catch up, and a really nice comfort to have a part of my family, my home, my past, here in The Gambia.  Its been over 10 months since Ive been around anyone who has known me for more than a a matter of months.  Itll be interesting to see and hear her perceptions of my life here, and the ways I (may) have changed since I left home last July.  Youll hear more on this later.

Well, take good care of yourselves and each other.

Love and peace ~ Sara/Meta

1 May 2003 (#3)

Hello.  I thought Id share a bit about a recent trip up-country to visit a friend of mine.  After a nice Easter service, I rode up to Bansang with a few other PCVs with a German Forester in his truck.  After a very rough hot and dusty ride, we arrived.  I stayed at the Bansang regional house to help another PCV celebrate her birthday, and then the next day crossed 2 ferries across the river with Jenny to head to her village of Wassu, near Kuntaur.  Wassu is where the famous Stone Circles are.

I wound up spending 5 days there- a really nice mental-health break for me.  Village volunteers come to Kombo (the capital area) for that, but we have to head back to village life.  It was so much hotter there than it is here by the ocean.  We wound up carrying her bamboo bed frame out into her backyard and rigging up my mosquito net from a tree to sleep outside.  Luckily it still cooled off a bit during the night.  Just for the fun of it, I kept my alarm clock with the handy thermometer on it nearby one day as we sat, melting in her house, trying to play cards, write letters and laugh about how sweaty we were.  Well, heres what we found:  Sure, it was hot by 9am, but what is even more significant is that what you would guess to be the hottest part of the day (10 am 2 pm maybe?) was just the beginning!  At 5:30 pm one day it was up to 105 F inside her house (cement house, corrugate tin roof = convection oven), 117.5 F outside in the shade, and 125.5 F outside in direct sunlight.  At one point, I did see the in-the-sun temp was up to 129 F not sure if my thermometer will read any higher than that- maybe its better not to know.  In fact, When I checked the temp while it was in the sun, the screen was turning black I thought that it was completely fried, but never fear- it recovered. 

P.S.  I dont know if you check out that Weather Channel box on the home page of this site, but today the forecast said Dust, Widespread Dust.  Funny but true, not dust storms by any means, but sometimes your eyes, and teeth feel gritty from all the dust in the air, and you think that the sky looks haze until you realize its dust and sand flying.  Anyway, over the past few days Ive thought it was going to rain- de ja vous to those mornings at home when you can smell, feel and taste the rain coming in.  Maybe the rains will start a little early this year. 

Back to Wassu- unfortunately, my back had been messed up for a few weeks prior to making the jarring trip up-country, which as you can guess did not help at all.  One night as I was out taking my bucket-bath in Jennys yard, I just about fell over when I tried to lean over to wash my hair.  For the next few days I couldnt even bend the littlest bit forward- so much pain.  Nothing seemed to help, I tried to do the whole gentle stretching thing, then tried to sleep on a flat surface without the foam since my parents always used to have to sleep on the floor when they threw their backs out.  Luckily, Jenny was able to massage some of the worst knots out, and thanks to some steady ibuprofen, it relaxed enough to let me consider the trip back to Kombo.  Jennys family was concerned about me, and went to speak with the traditional healer in the village- he made me this string with little pieces of wood wrapped on it to tie around my waist to help.  They told me that my back should feel cold when it was on.  Well, I thought that was the sweetest gestures that anyone has made for me in a long time.  And, what with my back sweat-soaked, it did feel cool after a while.  My back was sore this morning, so I tied it on again we shall see.

When we left Wassu, we stopped in Janjangbureh (also called Georgetown or McCarthy Island).  There are several volunteers there so we got to visit with them for a while.  This island was used heavily during the slave trade days, and we were able to visit an old slave house where slaves were held before being transported down the river.  It was a cramped, dark place, there was a hole in the ground that served as the source of water for the slaves- water came up as the tide rose.  There were holes in the wall that you might call windows, sure they were for ventilation, but they were also for shoving food down and letting the slaves fight for it.  There was a young man and an old man who were guides in the small house, and they gave a very padded story that made it seem completely reasonable that there were shackles on the walls for when the slaves got -too stubborn- as he said.  It was really sad.  There was a big tree nearby called the Freedom tree if a slave managed to escape and made it to this tree- they let him be free I guess.  The whole thing was more than a little sad.

I was lucky enough to catch a ride back to Kombo with some YMCA volunteers who were in Janjangbureh leading a computer workshop.  I got back to my apartment in just enough time to take a quick bucket bath (theres usually no water in the pipes from 7 am- at least 9 pm), then head out to a Candlelight March for HIV/AIDS Awareness that I had helped plan.  It was sponsored by the National AIDS Secretariat and planned by the Santa Yalla Support Society (for People Living With HIV/AIDS).  I really enjoyed being involved with both of those groups, and will probably try to do more work with them.  The march was nice, a great turnout.

Well, Ill close for now.  Please remember that if you have questions or just want to hear about a particular part of my life here, just ask- either in an e-mail or in my guestbook.

Take care of yourselves and each other.

Love and peace ~ Sara /Meta

1 May 2003 (#2)

Heres Part A of A Day in The Life of Metanding Darboe:

Let me start from a normal morning- as I leave my apartment I usually walk amid a sea of kids clad in their various school uniforms heading out to one of the many schools in my neighborhood.  Less than 100 meters from my house is a bitik (little corner shops that sell bread, soap, candies, some cooking ingredients, usually some thread, sardines, coffee and milk powder and the most random assortment of other stuff all crammed into a closet-sized shop).  At about 8am a women comes to the bitik and sets up a table where she sells breakfast fillings for the bread you buy at the bitik.  My favorite is the cooked beans, usually all mashed up which they top with an oil mixture- hot pepper, onion, a little tomato paste, black pepper so good.  She also sells either some sort of fishy filling or meaty thing, although I havent ever tried those.  I have tried her fish balls like meatballs only with fish instead of beef- those are pretty good too.  I dont always buy stuff from her, though- sometimes I just bring the bread back to my apartment and fill it with stuff that I have (local peanut butter or this yummy chocolate/peanut spread called Chocolecca (in the Nutella genre, only really different).

Beyond the bitik another 200 meters is a taxi car park, where at least 5 drivers each day call out to me asking me if I want a town trip (private ride- more expensive) into Serrekunda (which is in the opposite direction that I am walking) they havent caught on that in over 6 months I have never needed them to give me a ride- some mornings it amuses me, sometimes it annoys me. 

Just after the car-park is the end of my road and the intersection with Kairaba Avenue (sometimes called the pipeline) which is a paved, and heavily traveled road.  When I am headed into my office in Banjul, I curve to the right (turn right in Gambian-english).   The Peace Corps office is in the other direction down pipeline.  Anyway, right at that intersection is a huge building for Africell- one of the mobile phone companies here (the one I use).  There are usually about 3-5 guys at that corner selling mobile phone adapters or covers, some that sell steering wheel covers, some sell sunglasses. Just beyond Africell, there is a grocery store called Right Choice.  This feels like a small grocery store from home.  It is run by an Indian family I think- they are really nice, and the Gambian women who work there are really nice as well- always willing to greet us in local languages.

Just past that is a man who makes wicker furniture and baskets- I think he is from Senegal.  Then there are two vegetable stands frequented mostly by ex-pats who dont like to go all the way into the open market, so they tend to charge more, but the one guy is looking for a wife (or maybe a second wife, who knows), so sometimes he gives me and my roommate a good deal.

Then I pass a few electronics stores (go figure- most people here cant afford that stuff and there are at least 10-15 shops on Kairaba Ave. alone!).  Soon I am at another intersection, this is where the Serrekunda post office is- I use that to buy stamps and send out mail, but Peace Corps mail is delivered to the post office in Banjul.  So, I continue down the pipeline and pass another grocery store, then a German-owned restaurant called the Come-Inn- mostly frequented by ex-pats and tourists.  About 200 meters beyond that I begin to pass a big school yard, enclosed by a cement wall.  This is the Latrikunda Jr. Secondary School ( the area I live in is referred to as Latrikunda German because there used to be a German-run hospital there).  That school takes up nearly the next 400 meter-block.  After that, there is another grocery store (again, not frequented by many Gambians since its mostly imported stuff that is too expensive for them).  In the next block, about 200 meters further, is the Alliance Franco-Gambian (of which I a member) they offer French lessons, display the work of local artists, host some cultural programs, show movies in French, and on Monday nights I go there to see movies in English or at least with English subtitles.  I think that I am more current in the movie scene here than I ever was at home, ironically enough. 

Just past that, there is a young guy (20 something) who displays his sand paintings.  Hes really nice- always greets me in Mandinka and notices when Ive been out of town.  I cant say that Im a huge fan of sand paintings, but some of his are really nice- one of these days Ill have to pick one up.  Just past his area is a bicycle repair place- there was a guy there who used to yell out to me a different thing everytime I passed- that he loved me, my specs (glasses), my bag, my water bottle anything.  Eventually he stopped that once he figured out that it annoyed me, so he greeted me in Mandinka.  I havent seen him in a while, though- wonder where he went. 

About 100 meters further is a little area where young men/boys wash cars and taxis for probably an absurdly little amount of money.  Then, the chaos of Westfield Junction begins Just past the car-washing area about 10 money-changers stand waiting for a tourist to come and need to buy dalasi with their dollars, pounds or euros.  Most of them have seen me often enough to know that I dont need to change money, but theres always at least a few that will ask, all claiming to give me the best rate.

I usually turn right at this point to avoid the heart of Westfield Junction with even more money changers, beggars, vendors, etc.  Instead, I walk through a residential area that is much more quiet and peaceful that is if a taxi doesnt sneak up behind me and nearly run over my toes.  You see, since the roads are so bad, they look for the best route, not caring if it is the correct side of the road or if there are pedestrians there a few close calls so far- nothing major.  Since the roads are that bad, they arent driving fast enough to do too much damage I think.  Lets hope I dont ever have to find out!

The walk from my apartment to Westfield takes me 20-30 minutes depending on how many people I stop to greet.  This is the point where I catch my bush-taxi into Banjul.  It can take anywhere from 15-30 minutes to get there.  Maybe Ill cover the sites of Banjul some other time.  So, thats a sneak-peak into my daily life I hope it is as interesting to read as it is for me to live it.

Hey- I added some links on the Related Links part of this site one is for my roommate Bonnies newsletter, and another is a website of an Agriculture/Forestry Volunteer who has extended for a third year.  Enjoy.

Take care of yourselves and each other,

1 May 2003

Hello.  Sorry its been a few weeks since Ive written, but I know a lot of you only check every once and a while, so hopefully you arent too disappointed.  I have a lot of stories to tell I guess, so Ill write a bunch today since I dont have to go to work (its Workers Day), then Ill just post them bit-by-bit over the next few weeks.  So, stay tuned.

I dont think I gave any details about my Reconnect conference in mid-March.  It was a reunion of sorts with my training group- to discuss our 6 months of service since swearing-in, the frustrations, successes, directions to take in the future.  Plus, Admin wanted feedback on training as they are preparing for the next group to come in right now.  We also got to visit our host villages to catch up with our families a bit.  Surprisingly, many of the people from my group opted not to go back to the villages.  I guess if things were less than ideal during training, or if a persons language hadnt improved much, or if they just wanted a break from the village life, that it wasnt that appealing.  To me, who does not have a family or a village to call my own aside from Bambako- I was very excited.  In fact, Bambako was the only one of the training villages to have all of the original trainees go back for the visit.  It was fun, although my younger host sisters were out working in the rice field, so I didnt get to see them.  We were only there for about 2 hours, so it was just enough time to chat a bit.  Unfortunately, there was a lot of damage from flooding at the end of the rainy season last year, and a lot of homes had to be taken down.  So, in my compound, they were starting to rebuild some of the huts that got hit the hardest.  The alikalo (village chief) and his nephew were telling us that their rice harvest was really bad this year, so they had to depend on some donations (a lot from the Taiwanese government I guess).  I think they were hoping we would volunteer to send a bunch of food to help out, I wish we could afford that.  I think when I take Jamie back to meet Bambako we will take a bag of rice, or some of the other cooking essentials here.

While we were at the Reconnect conference I had an interesting thing happen while I getting something from my bag I touched something that moved of its own volition.  Reflexes kicking in, I pulled my hand out pretty quick and couldnt really see much in my army-green colored bag.  So, I figured it was one of the little ghekos that are all over here harmless.  I took the bag outside of our hut and tried to let it get out- it wasnt moving.  So, I tried to shake it out- it wasnt moving.  So, I looked back inside the bag, wondering if I was just imagining the whole thing.  Much to my surprise, instead of a ghecko, I saw a scorpian.  Ok, so I have heard that scorpian stings are one of the most painful experiences ever, so I was busy thanking God that I hadnt gotten stung as my roommate grabbed the bag and tried to shake it out.  Finally I decided it would be better to just step on my bag to kill it.  Well, it was a tough little guy and was only dazed a bit, so we got him out of the bag and then my friend used a rock to remove the stinger, then I crushed the little bugger with a big stone.  Close call.  Luckily, no harm done (to us, cant say the same for him).  I usually try to be pretty good about keeping all of my bags zipped or otherwise closed so nothing gets inside, but he found his chance I guess.

Heres an interesting commentary on how challenged my English skills are becoming While on transport yesterday we drove by a building that had a sign reading: African Center for Women Educationalists.  I knew that something seemed weird about that, although it took me a while to realize that we would say Educators.  I had a good laugh about that, although its possible its just a British usage.

A good friend of mine just sent a cute Easter care package, and included sidewalk chalk, but then wrote saying she felt weird about that since she guessed there wasnt any sidewalks here.  So, I realized that its been a while since Ive talked about some of my daily life realities.  Yes, there are sidewalks, mostly just in downtown Banjul.  There are other areas of the country where you will find cement slabs on the ground that appear to be sidewalks.  I exercise great caution when walking on these, however since they are merely covers for the sewers and have been known to cave in every now and then.  As far as the chalk goes, I suppose we could use it on the streets- most of the big towns have a paved road or 2.  A lot of compounds also have cement verandas by their front doors- like a little front porch or patio I guess.  Then, most of the cement-block houses are painted with water-based paints and I think that a chalk drawing would be rather cute.  Ill find a way to make good use of them, though.  Plus, most teachers have a really hard time finding chalk to use, so if I cant think of a fun opportunity to use the sidewalk chalk, I can give it to one of the educationalists that I know!

Take care of yourselves and each other,

Love and peace ~ Sara/Meta

April 8, 2003

Hello.  I am including a copy of an e-mail I recently received from one of my website viewers.  He was responding to some comments I made in my entry of March 17, 2003.  Here is a repeat of my comment:

More than a few people have expressed concern about the situation here now that Bush has issued his grand ultimatum.  Lets just say that since hes coming off like such as ass hes somehow managing to make Saddam look like a good guy, in effect, the victim in the situation.  Everyone is on edge and feels free to tell me that if the US has all that money to spend on war, they should use it for a better purpose like food for starving people.  I know its not as simple as all of that since the money hes using from this war will be coming out of money that should be spent in the US on education, healthcare, environmental issues, etc.

Now, here is the e-mail I received from him on 27 Mar 2003

Dear Sara,

            I checked your website to see if there was any information about changes in your country as a result of the war. I must say that your editorial regarding President Bush did not strike me as the comments and language of a thoughtful learned person. I realize that this is your site, for your views. I just wonder if you meant to come off sounding so blindly liberal. I do not think that any rational person wants war or conflict, but unfortunately it is a reality of life. I can relate in a smaller scale through my work as a police officer, and I will tell you one incident in particular that exemplifies this.

I stopped a car one night driven by a female, with a male passenger. I thought that I recognized the male as a suspect wanted in the sexual assault of a young girl. He was hiding his face and had given me his brothers name. This same suspect had done 5 years for assaulting a police officer, (one of my co-workers) who he had tried to choke to death during a previous arrest. I had also arrested this same man previously, although without incident other than a lot of threats to me and my family.

Once I had backup with me I brought the man out of the car and told him he was under arrest for the outstanding warrant on the child sexual assault. I knew and he knew that because of his prior convictions, his parole status and the nature of this latest crime he would be going back to prison for about 50 years. Not a fun thought when you are forty years old. He refused to submit to handcuffing even though we told him that there was no alternative. After a final warning I administered pepper spray, in liberal doses and multiple instances until he finally submitted. He was not hurt,(beyond the temporary effects of the spray,) and neither were the officers involved. He is now sitting in prison, after vowing to get me and my family when (if) he gets out. Point being the female driver, who was "in love" with this man, complained about the use of the pepper spray. She did not know his history, latest crime or deadly intentions with police officers, but she could sure spout off about how wrong we were to exert force in such a manner. She was emotionally engaged but intellectually and informationally deficient.

I would suggest that you evaluate the overall circumstances of a situation and if you still feel the need to disagree and voice opposition, do so in a manner that is thoughtful and articulate. Calling the President an "ass" does not convince people that you have invested a lot of intellectual effort on forming your opinion. And always remember that sometimes people who have to make the decision, and exert the force know a lot more than the person who is getting the information for the first time, often from from third parties.

These are difficult times, we have some difficult decisions to make, not everyone in the world is kind and willing to engage in dialogue to resolve differences. Pray for peace, but be ready to defend yourself when someone else does not share your pacifist outlooks. I would hope that if my Jenny was ever being attacked right before your eyes you would be motivated to do a bit more than remind the attacker that this is not a very nice thing to do, and lecture him about his antisocial tendencies. There comes a time when I would hope you would pick up a stick and firmly persuade him to stop what he is doing, for Jenny's sake, for your sake , and for the betterment of everyone around him..................

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Now, here is my response to his message:

Hello.  Thank you for your e-mail.  I honestly do appreciate feedback from what I say on my website- even if it is critical.  Im glad that you called my attention to something I was unclear about, and that was misunderstood as a result.

By the way, I have added a disclaimer on my homepage to be sure that no one will misinterpret my opinions/observations/thoughts as representing Peace Corps, PCVs, Americans, Gambians, young adults, women, NYers, Dietitians, pacifists, Christians, redheads, etc.  My words are owned by me alone.  It is good to be held accountable to them, so thank you for calling me out. 

To address the comments in your e-mail:  what you referred to as my editorial regarding President Bush was not meant in any way to be confused with an editorial.  It was more of a mini-venting session.  I have purposely not disclosed the content of the many conversations I have had with Gambians (and other Africans) regarding the war, GW Bush and America as a superpower.  I withhold information.  I suppose that I would rather have my website audience misunderstand/misinterpret ME than Gambians.  If you were to go back to my message, and insert since the Bush administration has handled the current situation in this manner, in place of since hes coming off like such an ass, I still stand by that statement.  I do apologize for the vulgarity, please note that I have recently added the equivalent of a warning label for my site that content and language used there within may be deemed inappropriate for some viewers. 

            I did appreciate the story you shared of your experience as a police officer, and certainly heard your point.  Having said that, I feel your point was misdirected at me.  Surely, when someone is intellectually and informationally deficient (is that Politically Correct-speak for ignorant?) in a given situation, their actions and opinions are often misguided if not completely off-base.  I am quite confident that I am not a case-in-point for that.  All the same, I was not as articulate as I may have (and should have) been.

            You asked if I meant to come off sounding so blindingly liberal.  I confess to chuckling out loud when I read that question.  First of all, I am (hopefully) not concealing the fact that I tend to be more liberal than conservative on most social and political issues.  I do not see liberal as a bad word, or anything to be embarrassed about.  Secondly, I certainly do not feel as though I am blind in this situation.  I am reasonable well informed.  What you, along with many other readers may not understand, is where I get my information.  Unlike many of you back in America, I do not receive CNN, MSNBC or other American-run news sources.  I listen to BBC news on the radio, and whenever I can, check their website.  From what I understand, this spared me from being exposed to much of the paranoia-inducing pre-war hype/hysteria.  It also spares me from a lot of the propaganda being put out there in order to bolster support for the war.

            That being said, I am sure there is a lot that even you do not understand.  The most obvious is that to which you are not exposed.  I have not been exposed to many political commentaries, but I am exposed to human commentaries.  I spoke the truth when I stated that many people I talked with have made poor Saddam, or even pro-Saddam statements.  Ive come to realize that there is an interesting perspective to be heard when so much of the world does not have the context of world history, world cultures and world religions to look to in deciphering current events.  While it may be easy to dismiss an uninformed opinion, those voices can be the loudest, strongest and most popular.  By not following protocol (a HUGE faux pas here) and not abiding by UN procedures, the Bush Administration has made many enemies.  From the comments I hear, many people have lost respect for America.  Some have even told me that they hope Bush goes down by the end of this.  Others ask why no one has assassinated him yet.  Others ask, why are Americans letting him get away with this, especially if you have a democracy- of, by and for the people?  Please dont think for a minute that the world cant see the host of inconsistencies the Bush Administration is portraying: 1: handling the Weapons of Mass Destruction situations with Iraq and North Korea completely differently, despite N.Koreas actual threats and Saddams lack thereof. 2: the war on terror that is causing great terror In Iraq and all of the Middle East, these are just some of the examples Gambians cite.

            I wish to be clear- I do NOT support the war.  That being said, I DO support the troops- those recently, currently and those preparing to serve.  The husbands of two women I care about are there as I write this.  Do I think they (as I) had hoped that the leaders of this world couldve found a peaceful way to address the problems with Iraq?- No doubt.

            To go back to your story- yes, the police do have the authority to use force in situations similar to what you mentioned.  There are a few glaring differences between your story and the current situation, though.  First of all, the US (and UK) are NOT global police- no one has given us that role.  Secondly, because we are not in that position, we do not automatically have the authority to police.  Going further, the one body which could have granted us that authority (the UN)- chose not to, deliberately at least on our timeline.

            You tried to remind me that decision-makers know a lot more than the person who is getting the information (me?).  Trust me, that is one of the only consolations I have been able to cling