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..................

************************************************************************

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 to in all of this- the hope that there is some overwhelmingly convincing reason why this war was so urgently needed, but cannot be released now.  As I tell many Gambians (and some Americans too), I am of the belief that there are usually at least 10 more layers to any political action/decision than meets the eye.  There is no way that ANY of us understand all that is involved with this situation.  It is possible that we never will.

            You closed your letter by stating your hope that would not stand by as your daughter was being attacked and try to remind the attacker that this is not a very nice thing to do, and lecture him about his anti-social tendencies.  I think that anyone who really knows me would laugh at the thought of that.  In the name of helping someone, I have been known to kick a shin, a groin, an ass (oops, there I go again) or whatever it takes to get my point across.  I am not anti-confrontation as such (I rather enjoy it sometimes), but I do have my standards of how, what, when and where it is appropriate and so does the rest of the world.

Thanks again for the feedback, I hope I have made myself more clear. 

~ Sara Schofield

2 April 2003

Hello!  My main purpose in posting today was to load some more pictures of my nephew, Will.  I thought I might as well write a little something too.

Sorry to all of you who have been expecting a response to a letter recently- Im gradually getting caught up!  It helped that I had a few weeks when I didnt get much mail- although it was sorta sad too.  Bottom line: the pile is getting smaller, and Ive sent close to 10 letters out in the past week or so, so hold tight!

Things have been relatively calm here since the war started, although no one is very happy about it.  I think its very confusing for Gambians to see me here under the banner of Peace, when my home country is the loudest voice in the world calling for war.  The morale among the volunteers is at an all-time low I think.  Many people are choosing to close their service early (if less than 3 months early, its not considered an early termination).  Everyone just seems to feel ready to go home.  Im having to remind myself- often- of the reasons why I came.  Its a good thing that I have work to do that I feel good about, and that is moving forward (no matter how slow it seems sometimes) otherwise it would be hard to justify staying here when so much is going on at home, especially with such an adorable nephew that SO many people will get to hold before I do.  Im not even trying to deny my jealousy over that!  Were all OK here, though- please dont worry too much.  They recommended that we dont do too much travel into other African countries at least through the end of the month, because our peaceful little Gambia is one of the exceptions to the rather unsettled rule of Africa.  So, Jamie and I are gingerly planning her trip to visit in May or June.

I mentioned in a recent post that the dalasi has been devaluing like crazy since I moved here.  While I was at an in-service meeting a few weeks ago, our Admin gave us a spreadsheet showing how much the cost of food & supplies has increased.  I thought this was really interesting (and scary), so I thought I would pass it on for your eyes:

Rice: 215 dalasi (for the past 2 years) to 350 (over past 6 months) to 450 (presently).

Chicken-live: 30 dalasi (for the past 2 years) to 50 (over past 6 months) to 85 (presently).

Powder Milk: 30 dalasi (for the past 2 years) to 50 (over past 6 months) to 65 (presently).

Toothpaste: 25 dalasi (for the past 2 years) to 35 (over past 6 months) to 50 (presently).

Toilet Paper: 20 dalasi (for the past 2 years) to 30 (over past 6 months) to 45 (presently).

Transportation Up-Country from my site to the furthest city (Basse): 73 dalasi (for the past 2 years) to 95 (over past 6 months) to 120 (presently).

Crazy stuff, right?  Some things more than doubling!  I went to buy a jar of jam last week- I had been able to get it for 16 dalasi for a while, then the lowest I seemed to be able to find was 22 I thought I lucked out when I found some for 19.75- went back a few days later to stock-up, sure that the price would fly out of control soon enough.  Oh, how right I was- it went to 28!  My roommate and I used to enjoy having meusli, milk and maybe some fruit for breakfast cant afford that anymore.  Ive become very reliant on the bitik (little corner shops) bread- but they even raised the price for a baguette from 2 to 3 dalasi.  At first the size increased too, so they could justify it but it shrunk just last week.  I used to have half for breakfast, then make a PB&J to take to work with me.  Now, not only is that not as economical, but its not as filling either.  Please dont worry about me in the eating category, though.  Those that know me well know that I will choose to eat well over a lot of other things.  My roommate and I have become much more creative and, well- stingy overall.  Plus, our Admin has asked for us to get a salary increase that actually makes the inflation (instead of the 10% increase/year protocol).  It would be nice, but wouldnt take effect until after July, so were holding on until then and crossing our fingers!  As I said before, though- its one thing for me to have money-problems, I dont have 5 kids to feed, house, clothe and send to school!  I dont know how Gambians are doing it- come the hungry season, well really start seeing the effects. 

Pray for a good rainy season this year!

Take care of yourselves and each other.

Love and peace ~ Sara /Meta

17 March 2003

Happy St. Patricks Day!  As of yesterday afternoon (your time) I had not officially become an aunt Ive got my phone with me at all times to be ready for the call, though.  Im sorry that my replies to written mail has been a bit slow I have a whole pile to respond to at home.  Ive spent the last few weeks trying to catch up on my journal, and now that Im current with that, I can start writing letters again.  That whole cycle of if I write mail, I get mail has been broken by my slacking my mailbox has been empty for the past few weeks- a sad state of affairs!

My parents were telling me that yesterday was sunny and warm (55 F) at home they had windows open and short-sleeved shirts on.  We laughed that this is probably the first time weve had such similar weather conditions It was cold (65F) here, I was shutting windows and had a long-sleeved shirt on!  Last week was really hot, so I thought those rare moments of cold were just a memory, glad to say that I was wrong.

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. 

The Dalasi just keeps on devaluing, and I know this war wont help.  When I got here in July, the exchange rate was $1 = 17 Dalasi, now it is $1 = 28 Dalasi.  Since our living allowances havent been adjusted with all of that, it means everyone has to be a bit more creative and frugal.  The price for a liter of fuel just rose from 19 Dalasi to 25, and people look to me (read: America) to blame for it.

I hope that the next few days, weeks, months dont bring the war and devastation we all fear.  Please take good care of yourselves and each other- know that Im thinking and praying for you all at home, and for the military personnel who are much closer to the action than Id like to see.  I pray that we all receive the strength that we will need to get us through the upcoming challenges.

In the words of Tiny Tim May God bless us every one.

15 January 2003

Hello everyone.  I am inserting a letter that will be signed by my fellow volunteers here in The Gambia regarding the possibility of being evacuated if the US does take military action in Iraq.  I know that many of you have concerns about my safety here, especially with the unsavory sentiment towards American across the globe.  Please read the letter. I know it may be hard for you to understand what life is like here, and especially to believe that I am safe.  Please keep an open mind as you read my letter and remember the reasons why I chose to be a Peace Corps volunteer, and why our President pushed to increase PC numbers, especially in Muslim countries.  Our government officials will assume that you want us to come home, believing us to be unsafe here.  While that may be true for some of you, those that understand what we are here to do (and how bitter and resentful we will be if sent home) realize that we should stay until we are through with our service or there is a genuine threat to our safety, security, or health.

By the way, I havent been hearing about protest against the war going on in the US please tell me that America hasnt become that complacent!  I heard about one protest in Colorado, but Im sure something must be going in in DC ?

I had convinced myself that if we were evacuated early, that I could request to be reassigned.  It is looking like that may not be an option- that Peace Corps may be reluctant to send any volunteers to new assignments, no matter where the destination.   Many, if not most of you understand why I chose to spend two years of my life- away from the luxuries of home and the comfort of my friends and family, to work here with the Peace Corps.  So, I could use all the thoughts and prayers you can spare that I can fulfil my commitment here in The Gambia safely.  If it wasnt safe, believe me, I would take a ticket home pretty quick. 

On that note, I need to tell you some unpleasant news about The Gambia.  Just Monday morning I read in the paper (about the same time as my father in Syracuse, NY was) that there were 2 people arrested for a plot to kill the US Ambassador here.  I have talked with Administration a few times this week, and they assure me that we dont need to take any extra security measures.  From what I gather, it seems that these people were working independently of anything here in The Gambia.  The US sent special officials to help with the investigation, which apparently is still going on.  What little information theyve released tells us that the people were not Gambians, they were not African either.  For all we know, they could be Americans who knows!  It was big news here and my co-workers were all very concerned for me- and quick to tell me reassure me that these people were not Gambian.  So, I thought I was on-edge before about the possibility of being sent home, and now I think Ive gone to a new extreme.  I keep trying to get all the cool Gambian things Id like to bring home, and learn to make all the foods I want to make for my friends and family in the US.  I just dont want to wait until its too late and I get a call to pack my bags.  Ive been here just 6 months now, and I feel like Im just getting started!

On a lighter note, I thought Id take a moment to share some of the popular name-brand items I see around town..

NILKE & MIKE-    yeah, trying to be NIKE I think!

ABIBAS-                               kinda like Adidas, only different.

Panasound-                           a cousin of Panasonic?

One day as my roommate and I were walking down the street at Westfield Junction (where I pick up my bush-taxi to go to work), one of the 25-30 men who were offering to change money for us went beyond the usual of hey, nice lady, I give you nice price today, or hey, bosslady, want some change?  Yeah, he told us very matter-of-factly that he was Mr. Right Price.  Of course we both started cracking up, it sounds like some used car dealerships commercial.  Have I , mentioned the money changers before?  They are usually found in clusters, identified by the large grocery bags or carry-on style luggage the carry while they flash a calculator at you.  No, they are not selling the calculator as a casual observer would assume.  They stand there all day, waiting for someone to come with foreign currency needing Dalasi, or to change their Dalasi into toubab money.  I cant think of many places in the world where this kind of thing would go over well.  Really, who would be the idiot in NYC or even lovely little Syracuse to stand with a bag full of money (that they probably cant afford to lose) and then advertise to people that in fact, they are holding mass quantities of money hmm.  As I said before, very low violence rates here- I have not heard one single story of these guys being mugged either!  For the record I cringe everytime I hear someone call me bosslady. For the love, why would so many people be so quick to put me above them oh yeah, I forgot, this country was under colonial rule by toubabs for a long time!  I usually reply to the affect of- hey, Im not your boss. 

Curious about other ways people try to get your (I mean me here) attention here?  The ever-popular hissing which as Americans we come in thinking is quite rude, but its their way of calling someones attention when you dont know their name.  Honestly, sometimes Id rather hear that than the other comments like hey, white lady, or just hey,

white sometimes.  Yeah, I cringe with that one to.  I also hear a lot of sister, occasionally kind sister.  People from Senegal often call out Madame.  Oh, and I have I mentioned that everyday at least 10, usually closer to 50 kids screech toubab as they walk by me, and every now and then Ill hear it from an adult.  Depending on who you ask, toubab means a lot of different things- some say it refers to my white skin, others say it just means educated person, some say its another expression for master,(cringe), in general the most commonly held opinion is that it means foreigner.  When I told the kids in the area where I had my training, some started calling out Mandinko which is the name of the ethnic group my host family and village belonged to. 

Well, thats it for trivia for today.  I hope that youve had fun.  Any questions?  Let me know!  Please take care everyone, good luck to those of you who are yourselves, or who have friends and family being deployed in preparation for this w*r, my prayers are that you wont see much action and will be safely home soon. 

Take care of yourselves and each other.

Love and peace ~ Sara/Meta

I'd like to send a huge thank you to my Uncle Jeff for the amazing video he made for me.  Being a videographer, I wasn't shocked to see a tape in a recent package he sent.  I was intrigued by the title "Sara, vol. 1," and deeply touched by how thoughtful the video was.  It included a walking tour of my parents house including familiar sights and recent changes, our pets which I am shocked that I miss as much as I do, a night when friends from church came to visit around Thanksgiving, footage of Carrie and Keith being all cute and pregnant, SNOW!!, Carrie preaching an amazing Advent sermon, Jamie and my parents being so sweet that it made me and my friends here cry, and even tidbits of the Schofield Family Reunion I missed while I was at our Staging in Chicago.  All of that plus he put himself in front of the camera for a revolutionary change and talked as if I was standing right there with him.  I think that is one of the sweetest gifts that anyone has ever given me, and since I don't know his new e-mail (and I also wanted to publicly thank/embarrass him), this was the forum I chose.

Another special note goes out to Mrs. Nusse (Jenny's mom) who sent her famous (or at least soon-to-be-) toffee to Jenny in a Christmas package.  Jenny was nice enough to share, and oh, my God, it was amazing- even after the long trip to get here.  So, THANK YOU!

Thanks to all those who sent Christmas cards & goodies, as promised, you will get a reply!  Thanks for all of the support!

Please take good care or yourselves and each other.

2 January 2003!!

Happy New Year!  I hope that you all had a safe and fun night!  I had a good one here.  Work was even good that day.  We had a staff meeting, so it was good to get everyone on the same page again, and update people with what Im working on.  We got to leave early, at about 2 pm, and I swung by the PC office before heading home to find lots of little surprised in my mailbox thanks for remembering me over my birthday and Christmas, I was definitely feelin the love. 

My friend who was in Dakar, Senegal to see some doctors luckily made it back just in time for the New Year, and a few of us had a nice dinner (pita pizzas) at our apartment and lost track of time, not leaving for our Beach Party/Rave with the German Foresters until about 11 pm.  What an ordeal it took forever to bargain for a taxi- there was huge traffic problems in the area we wanted to head because there were fireworks scheduled, so we wound up paying way too much, and we also wound up ringing in the New Year in the taxi while the driver pumped gas as some of you may know this is NOT the first time I have spent New Years in my car heading to my destination!  But, the driver was nice, and he was playing Tracy Chapman, so we were all OK with the situation.  The beach we were headed to was way out of the way, and the driver brought us as far down the sand road as he could maneuver the car, so it was worth the extra money!

The party was fun, pretty low-key; at least by the time we got there!  We did get to see some of the fireworks, and some people brought glow-sticks, so they put on their own interesting show on the beach.  It was good, but we were exhausted by the time we left. 

Hey, theres something I forgot to mention about my life in the past week I had dinner with the President Dr. Alhaji Yahyah AJJ Jammeh.  He held a big dinner at the state house which was basically to honor the 250 Cuban doctors here in The Gambia, but he also invited all the other health volunteers serving here- a Nigerian technical aid group, some Egyptian doctors, VSO (Voluntary Service Organization of the UK) volunteers, a groups of us from the Peace Corps, and there may have been a few others I cant remember at the moment.  It was fancy, it was weird, it was fun, and Ill post pictures from it eventually.  We each got introduced to the president, and he was informed where we were posted and he shook each of our hands.  It was the first time Id heard him speak publicly and I was rather impressed I dont always feel that way after hearing governmental officials speak here.  It was a very nice (although largely overdone) show of gratitude.  Its hard to see/be part of a night of such excess when SO many people are poor and hungry here.  All that pomp and formality is just so strange to see here. But, as I told my parents, The Gambia did, after all, learn from England.   My roommate is currently working on a piece for our little PC newsletter shes going to title the Divine Secrets of Yahyah (I hope Im spelling his name right!) 

Well, thats about it from my end.  I hope that you are all well and enjoying all that snow I hear keeps coming! 

Good luck wishes to Carrie as she takes her Ordination Exams over the next few days!  And CONGRATULATIONS to Erin & Joe, and Annie Becker on their recent engagements, all the best to you! (I just took part in a family tradition of one of my friends here, of writing 20 predictions for the upcoming year to be looked at on New Years 2004, and lets just say Ive probably grossly underestimated the number of people I know that will be engaged by then!).

Oh, by the way, my co-worker informed me that the man leading the part of the service I attended on Christmas Day is not actually the pastor, just the same, I think itll be a while before I go back there!

Please take good care of yourselves and each other

Love and peace ~ Sara/Meta

30 December 2002

Hello.  I hope that everyone had a great Christmas, it proved to be very interesting for me.  I worked on Christmas Eve, and brought some goodies into the office to share with my co-workers to celebrate the holiday and my birthday.  Since I didnt go to work on my birthday, I brought the party late (on your birthday you are supposed to bring the treats for the office).  So, I brought some of the Christmas cookies Id baked, some candy canes from a care package and a package of kool-aid to share.  They seemed to really like it all.  I even brought in 2 Christmas stockings and pictures of snowy landscapes from home to show them what its like at home.  My boss (back from a study leave in Norway) told me I could take the rest of the day and week off, so I left a little early and headed out to run some errands, then went to the beach to hang out with some of the other PCVs who had come into town.  Later that night a few of my friends and I went back into Banjul to attend a Christmas Eve service at St. Marys Anglican Church.  Wed heard the service started at 10 or 10:30, and I assumed that meant the Eucharist service started then I was wrong!

We wound up being very early, so we sat in the pew and waited.  A man told us that we would have to pay if we wanted a program, and we were worried it was someone trying to scam us out of money right there at church. Turns out we did have to pay for them, so we were going to buy 2 to share between the 4 of us, no problem, right?  Well, my friend who went out to get them came back empty-handed saying that people were fighting over the programs, so our neighbor let all 4 of us share his 1 program.  OK, things shouldve been fine after that.  But, they werent.  The program was all out of order and we couldnt figure out where we were in the service the friends who were with me were getting restless at that point.  One of them was actually not feeling well, we sprung her from the Med Unit to go to church, and she spent most of the time in pain- I felt really bad.  Add to that their experiences with church were limited, and what they did have was low church, and we were sitting in the highest service Ive been to in a long time.  This included some of the most nauseating incense Ive ever smelled not helping the situation any.  Finally I found a service outline in the program it turns out this was NOT the Eucharist service, it was a Solemn Evensong (~45 min), to be followed by carols (~30 min), a procession and blessing of the crib (~30 min), and then the Eucharist would begin at Midnight.  Well, between my friends pain, and worrying about getting transport back so late, we decided to leave after the carols disappointed.

We walked our friends back to the hostel and visited for a while, then I made plans to meet some of my friends the next morning for a Christmas Day service closer to where we live.  We were hoping to recover from the nights experience.  That didnt happen.

I woke up and got ready for church, met my friends down the road and headed to the Redeemed Christian Church of God, one that a Nigerian volunteer I work with told me he would be attending with his wife.  We got there at 9 am, when the service was supposed to start only to find people still in set-up mode.  We waited about a half hour or 45 minutes, then a few more people joined the congregation- I know Christmas morning is always a small service at home, so it didnt strike me as odd.  Plus, there is this phenomenon of Gambian time and all.  But, a man I assumed to be the pastor came out and instructed the musicians (a keyboardist and drummer) to begin playing.  How funny that the first song picked was one that I actually knew - Lord I Lift Your Name on High it was so fun to see people belting it out and dancing along to it.  Then we sang a few more songs, not really of the Christmas theme at all, it almost felt like Easter, but hey.  Eventually he began what he said was the service.  Not before asking all the members of the choir who hadnt come to rehearsal the night before to stand up.  He then proceeded to make them stand in the corner of the church for what he said would be the entire service.  I was humiliated for them I guess.  He really treated them like children, and public scoldings like that are not exactly what Im familiar seeing during a worship service.  It was a bit overwhelming. 

Then, he had some members of the congregation read bible passages and we sang a few Christmas carols.  Then, at about 10:45 he stopped the service to apologize for the disorganized manner of the morning, since all of the church leaders have been busy with the building of their new church structure.  He then went on a shpeal about how some of them have forked over their own personal funds to keep construction going since not everyone had paid their pledges again, why was this necessary to guilt-trip people on Christmas Day, there was just a very strange tone.  During this break in the service, he asked anyone who had forgotten to bring a present to raise their hands.  My friends and I assumed they were doing some sort of donation, not so.  It was, in fact, a gift exchange within the parish.  We made another assumption as this point that we werent included since we were not members and hadnt known about it, so we would just not take part.  No, he then asked any visitors to raise their hands since they didnt have a present, because otherwise someone wasnt going to wind up with a gift.  Then he asked one of the church staff to go to the office and get extra gifts to make up for those who hadnt brought one.  We raised our hands because at this point he was obviously referring to us.  Then a lady sitting near me told me I should raise my hand higher (way to make the newcomers feel welcomed!), and I proposed my idea to her about us just not taking a gift, that way no one missed out.  It was one of those times when something that seems like a logical thought to me just seems ridiculous to people here, and their thoughts the same way to me.  Then he said we should be done by 11:15 am after a few more readings.  We started to sing another carol, one I didnt know, and my friends and I looked at each other and decided it wasnt worth it to stay there when we werent exactly feeling the spirit if you know what I mean.  So, we tried to gracefully get up and head to the back of the church. Didnt the leader say into the microphone- youre leaving already?  I left that service, my second fleeing of a church within less than 24 hours, extremely frustrated.  I dont think I have ever missed St. Johns (or St. James) more!  I dont think Ive ever felt a craving to share communion like Ive been feeling recently.  But, there are many other Christian churches here in the Kombo area, and Ive heard good things about some of the others, so Ill have to be a little more pro-active in finding a good fit.

We walked back to my apartment where we sat and chatted with my roommate and another PCV who was staying with us, and then started to prepare for our Christmas Dinner.   A large group of us, about 17-20, planned on having a big potluck at the PC hostel later that day.  My parents were sweet and sent graham cracker crusts and pudding mixes, so that was my contribution.  My roommate made her now-famous risotto!  A few of the group volunteered to do a lot of the prep work, and made about 6 small chickens, we had a nice stuffing made from local bread, some mashed potatoes, a lovely fruit salad, some homemade breads and cookies too.  It was fabulous!  We stuffed ourselves finally something like I wouldve done at home!

My parents and Jamie were able to call and chat for a bit, unfortunately Carrie and Keith had already started their marathon trek to Philly (it should take 4-5 hours, not 9-10!!), so I missed them.  I did, however get to check my e-mail while at the hostel and found a picture of Carrie, in all her pregnant-glory in front of the Christmas tree at home.  It was great; I made my friends come in so I could show it off!  Then we watched a movie and headed home, feeling good about the way the day had ended up.  I didnt go to the beach, since Id just been the day before it was no big loss!

Anyway, that was my Christmas!  I hope yours was lovely and the huge snows didnt get in the way too much.

Please take good care of yourselves and each other

20 December 2002

Hello!  I thought I'd just let you all know that I had a wonderful birthday...

I slept in until about 7:30am, then had a lazy breakfast and then for some reason got inspired to clean the apartment.  I swept and mopped and cleaned the bathrooms and felt shamefully good about it!  Part of what was making me have so much fun with it was the music I was listening to.  My family had made me a Christmas mix, which did amazing things for my mood.  After work on Wednesday, I stopped by the Peace Corps office and found several packages for me... perfect timing for my birthday.  Some were Christmas decorations from my Mom, which was great since we used to decorate our house on my birthday, so I got to keep that tradition.  I got a little birthday package from Jamie Clare, one from Carrie and Keith (saving that for Christmas Day) and one from my friend Melinda (also saving for Christmas).  I had a grin on my face all day, a nice change from the past few weeks!

OK, time for a Public Service Announcement:  PLEASE DO NOT FEEL OBLIGATED TO SEND PACKAGES, AND IF YOU DECIDE TO SEND ONE, MAKE IT SMALL... very few things are necessities on that suggestion list, most are just nice treats, things I miss from home... I hear rumors that certain family members thought they should get everything on the list and fill a big box with goodies.... I can't imagine the look on their faces when they heard it would cost $400!!!  PLEASE DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME!!  If you are inclined to send something, make it small, make it light, make it infrequent.  Letters are much more economical, and make me very happy too!

So, I had talked about making a trip to see my host family this month.  With the "foil crisis" (aka fuel shortage), that just doesn't seem like a good plan.  Plus, we hear that we'll have something called a "reconnect" in February where we'll be able to go back and stay with our training families and have an in-service training workshop.  I guess I'll have to wait until then. 

February actually sounds like it will be really busy, that is also when the WAIST(West African Intramural Softball Tournament) is, held in Dakar, Senegal.  Even though I can't play worth crap, it should be a good time.

Hey, too all my Marywood friends, I forgot to tell you that one of the new Ag/Fo's is from Pottsville... the home of Yueng Ling Beer (I never did learn how to spell that!), and there is a girl whose family just moved to Syracuse, she had recently spent her 21st birthday at Coleman's... crazy small world!  There are several NYS PCVs here, one is from the Albany area (I think Ballston Spa), another is from the Utica area, another from Lake Placid, another from downstate I forget where, and several from Long Island/NYC.  There is even a girl who grew up in Richmond, VA and I guess her parents are from the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre area, so that's a weird intersection of my worlds too.

I recently found out that there are some parents of other volunteers checking this site too, HELLO to Beths Mom, Jennys family and anyone else!  I'm sure that hearing my stories versus their stories is giving you quite the perspective on the whole spectrum of volunteer experiences here in The Gambia.

To my friends from home or school who may be reuniting over the holidays, have fun, I'll be thinking about you.  If you're in Marcellus, please stop by to see my family- they miss you all too!

To my work friends, I miss our little Secret Santa exchanges, but I hear that instead of all going in on one package, there may be several- which is completely unnecessary but extremely appreciated.  You guys are great, I'm missing my Loretto family, especially the Pita Pit lunches!

To my St. John's family and friends, I'm sure the pagent will be better than ever, I'll be thinking about you especially on Christmas Eve. 

To my long-lost friends (AKA those I haven't heard from since I got here)- I hope that all is well and that you'll find time to write soon.

I wish everyone a wonderfully blessed Christmas, safe travels, lots of love, good eats and good times.  Take care of yourselves and each other.

Love and peace ~ Sara/Meta

18 December 2002

Hello again.  I didnt realize it had been so long since I had posted and its definitely an indicator of how weird things have been this month. 

Ive heard from many PCVs that this is the hardest stage to get through lets hope so.  Tomorrow is my birthday, Christmas is next week, New Years is right around the corner, and it kills me to hear that there is snow at home when Im still sitting in 100 heat.  All-in-all, things are still going alright, but everything seems a bit surreal.

Dont know whats going on here lately, but its been humid and weve had some rain at night- which is not the norm for this, the cool, dry season.  I DO actually have to pull a sheet over me on some nights, and I saw my thermometer drop down to a shocking 76 F last week  Its just funny to see people out in coats in the morning and evening.  Apparently its gotten really cold during the nights further up-country.  I just sent one of my friends back to her site with a blanket that I cant even imagine using right now!

I may go camping next month with some other PCVs in Basse, which will be fun I think.  Everyone comes to stay with us here in Kombo to take a little break from their site, but we havent really gone anywhere to do that yet.  So, we may take a little trip near Christmas, not too far since I dont want to spend too much time away from the office.  Our Executive Director is due back from her annual leave (in Norway), and even though half of the office is still on leave, I feel like I should be there. 

The office has been a source of major frustration in the past few weeks hoping that resolves (or that I resolve to it) soon.   Ive got one of my projects in motion which feels good, and I can sense that one of the other ones will come into focus in the next month or so.  There are 2 other PCVs with nutrition backgrounds here in The Gambia, and luckily both are willing and able to help with some of the work.  Actually, they are both VERY interested in helping they are in village/town settings where it is a lot harder to settle into a health assignment, one is actually just teaching science classes at the school since not enough teachers showed up at the beginning of the term.  That wouldnt be bad if it was a little bit flexible with subject matter, but apparently she has a pretty specific curriculum, so she can't even focus on health and nutrition.  One of these other nutritionists is coming into the office today so that I can show her what Ive been working on and introduce her to the few staff members actually in the office.  Then we will walk to the other side of the city to Royal Victoria Hospital (RVH) so that she can tour the Pediatric Nutrition Ward (where the severely malnourished children are treated &/or rehabilitated).

I just ran out to the market a minute ago (about 2 blocks from my office) to get some limes for my upcoming birthday Corona!  One the way I was dodging the street vendors and money changers left and right and trying to ignore all the people fighting for my attention by either hissing, yelling toubab, or shoving their goods in my face.  All of the sudden I realized someone was calling my name (my Gambian name).  Small world (well, small country)- it was a woman who worked at the camp where we did a lot of training, and she had grown up in Bambako (where I lived with my host family).  She acted like she wasnt surprised at all to see me, said she had been asking around where Meta Darboe was and here I had walked right to her!  It was really fun to see her again although we only got to greet for a minute or two and then had to said goodbye. 

My roommate and I were discussing our Christmas plans last night- I think well host a pot-luck dinner on Christmas Eve, possibly make some brunch on Christmas morning and then spend the rest of the day on the beach.  From what I understand, most businesses are closed on Christmas and New Years Day, so that will be nice to be able to spend those days relaxing with my friends.

Tomorrow night there will be a birthday contingent heading out to a restaurant to celebrate which will be nice.  One of my good friends treated me to dinner the other night at a Chinese restaurant too All in all, if I hadnt been so stressed & annoyed with my work environment, it was a pretty good week.  I even got TWO packages one from my parents, complete with a Happy Birthday banner, and one from one of my Loretto co-workers full of pampering stuff!  It is so nice to know that so many people are supporting me (in many different ways).  For the record, I do NOT expect packages, I know they can get pretty expensive.   I do LOVE to get letters to hear what is going on with my family, friends, etc- I dont even want to imagine how detached Id feel after 2 years if I dont get to hear from people. 

Ill try to write again soon.  Please take good care of yourselves and each other.  Ill hope to hear from you soon!

3 December 2002

Hello.  Im actually at work today.  Ive hardly been here for the past week and a half.  On Thanksgiving Day, the PC office was closed, so no ride available, and no way I was going to fight my way onto a bushtaxi.  So, I ran some errands and got ready for the other PCVs who were planning to stay at our house for the holiday weekend.  The hostel just doesnt have enough room for everyone, so we had 3 people the first night, and 2 more for the next 2-3 nights.  It was crowded, but doable. 

My family called on Thanksgiving, I got to talk to everyone there-my parents, both my sisters, brother-in-law, my uncle Jeff and Aunt Sharon.  It was nice to still be a part of the day even though I was sitting outside under a mango tree during a 90F day while they were in Central NY complaining about the snow. 

Friday we had a big Peace Corps meeting all morning, then we ran some errands, went back to the apartment and made pizza on pita shells- so good!  We had a party that night, so we headed out for that and didnt get home until early morning on Saturday.  Itd been a long time since Id spent a real night out.  Saturday my houseguests and I all headed to the bank and ran some errands until it was time to get ready (dressed up) for the Art Auction which was very nice, and our Thanksgiving Dinner which was VERY nice!  The hotel decorated beautifully, and besides the near-tragic running out of some key buffet items, went very smoothly.  The turkey was great, the squash was amazing and I dont think that any adjective would do the desserts justice.  There was a huge spread of pies, and I had half-servings of ALL of them!  It was very nice.  We decided that if we wind up having responsibility for the dinner next year (I have no doubt we will since we are in town), that we should serve the food family style instead of buffet so people dont horde too much food!

Sunday, we went to the swearing-in of the new Ag/Fo PCVs.  It was fun, and apparently I was on the news again since they videotaped it.  I thought it was just for PC, but it was televised from what I hear.  My co-workers all spotted me.  For the rest of the day we lounged around at the beach, I took a wonderful nap in a hammock and then we headed back to town for dinner.  After that we went to the hostel and watched a movie- Reality Bites- a great flashback! 

Monday I caught a ride into Banjul with the PC car coming in to get the office mail, but since there wasnt a guaranteed ride home from the office, I stayed at work only long enough to meet with one of my supervisors and then ride back in the PC car. 

Today I hitched a ride into the city with the PC car bringing the new PCVs out the the city and market to buy their settling-in items like gas burners so they can cook in their huts, mattresses, etc.  It took about an hour and a half to get to my office because we had to make so many stops, but I am here, and will actually be able to meet with my counterpart on our project once she reviews what Ive been working on.  Its so exciting to have a productive day!

So, this is the fourth post Ive written on this disc, yet to post them all.  Ill try to do them all on the same day, hope it works!  Im very excited, I hear there is a package waiting at the PC office for me!  Maybe Ill save it to open on my birthday or Christmas. 

Until next time, Take care of yourselves and each other!  ~ Sara/Meta

27 November 2002

Hey there.  Ive been meaning to write about this for a while now Im not sure how many of you have read The Poisonwood Bible, but I just finished it a few weeks ago.  I thought I should relieve any concerns you might have after reading it And suggest that for immediate family or nervous-by-nature friends- wait until Im home to read it if you havent already. 

OK, so first of all I am not here as a missionary, although there are plenty of them here.  So, my experience has some inherent differences from the family in the book.  Second of all, I asked very early on about poisonous plants even the agriculture/forestry Program Director couldnt think of anyexcept mangoes.  Apparently some people (including my roommate) react to its skin as if it were poison ivy who knew!  Thirdly, I know that there are snakes here, but I have not seen any yet (and may not here in the urban area), but we were given practical advice on how to avoid snake bites and how to treat them.  I havent heard of any problems with PCVs being bitten and I tend to think I wouldve if it were a problem.  Fourth, there are scorpians here, and I hear its the light colored ones to stay away from.  Ive seen only a few since I got here, but so far no stings/bites or whatever it is that they do.  And fifth, thank God, no army ants or whatever they called them.  Im sure I wouldve heard about that by now if that was something I would have to deal with!

The whole independence movement has already happened here, and theyve survived a coup or two with no major problems/mass casualties, so I dont anticipate anything major in the next few years.  Granted, the political climate here is not what might be considered ideal (see my previous post), but its not that bad.

On the other hand, there was a slew of cultural references that were dead-on with what I see here.  The way they talk about peoples mode of dress in the villages hilarious and true in a lot of cases.  A lot of the childrens clothing are donated, and many are too small, too big, full of holes or not understood.  Wondering what I mean I saw a young boy wearing a cute little girls denim dress The men here wear long robes a lot of the time, so a dress isnt far from the norm, only it was clear to us that a little girl had worn that dress wherever it came from.  The Alkalo in my training village used to carry a big umbrella and wear a knit snow cap.  In fact, there are a lot of men and boys here wandering around with snow caps on their heads.  I cant imagine why since its so hot, but I guess its proper to wear a head cover, and thats as good as any.  Here in the city people are a bit more concerned with their appearance, so its a little different. 

The descriptions of the open markets are similar, with goods spread out on tarps as women squat on small stools next to other women doing the same thing, selling the same thing.  People here could use some help in understanding business principles like how to be competitive and the concept of customer service. 

The way people carry things on their heads is right-on too.  It is impressive how large the bundles of fabric, potatoes, hot food, bananas, nuts, just about anything you can imagine.  The struggles of the disabled here are similar in some ways too.  In the book, they talk about a woman who walks around on her hands because her legs were badly burned in a fire.  There are quite a few people here who have legs too crippled to walk on- whether from polio or an accident or a birth defect I cant tell.  But, Im now-somehow- getting used to seeing people with flip-flops on their hands dragging their limp legs in the dirt behind them.  One woman I saw in the Serrekunda market even had her baby tied on her back and a bowl on her head as she crawled through the crowded market.  There are some people who have crutches, canes or wheelchairs, but apparently not everyone has the means to get them.  There are some really cool wheelchairs here though, that are like a bike kinda.  They have a seat and people pedal the chair along using their hands.  Its pretty impressive.  There is usually a cluster of handicapped people waiting outside the grocery stores for you to leave spare change.  And some of the blind people here parade around the high traffic areas with walking sticks and one of their grandchildren to beg for money.

Transport between villages and cities is not as difficult as in the book (granted it was set about 40 years ago I think).  There are dirt roads that do become un-passable in and between most villages, but there is also more and more paved roads here every year.  People walk, ride bikes, use donkey carts, ferries, boats, motorcycles, cars, trucks, bush-taxis, etc. to get to where they need to go.

I do not need to boil my water here as they did in the book.  Peace Corps gives us very nice water filters and we are taught how to treat the water with bleach (or iodine if travelling for short period of time).  Most taps and pumps supply water that is safe to drink though.  There are still some towns and/or compounds with wells- and we are taught to use that water for bathing or washing clothes only if possible.  River water is pretty much regarded as unsafe for consumption (at least among most PCVs), although, some volunteers chose to swim in the water even in areas where some nasty parasites are known to invade the digestive system yeah, I dont think so.

Food here is (obviously) not as scarce as in the book, Im sure you can tell from my recent posts.  There are not too many people hunting for their own meat to eat here.  Families usually raise the animals they intend to work or eat.  Although their idea of animal husbandry is not exactly as humane as I would enjoy seeing. 

Off the top of my head I cant remember any other issue the book talked about that I wanted to address, so if you have read it and have questions, let me know.  My sister Carrie had read it before I came, and suggested that I not read it.  Im glad I listened to her, I think it wouldve unnecessarily freaked me out before I came.  Thats why Ill not suggest you go out and read it.  Maybe once Im home and can show you all of my pictures and explain things face-to-face youll understand the funny similarities, but startling differences between The Gambia today and The Congo in the 1960s.

Take care of yourselves and each other!  ~ Sara/Meta

26 November 2002

Hello again.  This has turned out to be a very strange day.  Yesterday I got a call before I left for work from the Peace Corps Office telling me I shouldnt go into Banjul for work- apparently there was some sort of protest going on.  Well, no problem, I just wrote a few letters and finished another audio tape to send to my parents- had the radio on all day to listen for any big news didnt hear any.  Im not exactly sure why since the leader of the Opposition Party here was apparently arrested, charged with something from 2 years ago- possibly just an excuse to embarrass him.  Im assuming that the protests were related to that, but I never heard a thing about it on the news.  Today I walked the 20 minutes down to Westfield junction to catch a bush-taxi into Banjul noticing that the huge line of cars at the gas station on the way.  Weve been having problems with fuel shortages (foil as they call it here).  Anyway, this means that finding public transport is a huge hassle.  After I turned the corner I saw a fight break out as people were trying to board one bush-taxi, I ducked into a grocery store until it broke up(no major injuries apparently) and I went to my usual pick-up point and waited a half-hour with no luck finding a car with any room for me.    Then I heard my cell phone ring it was another PCV who works in Banjul.  She was at the PC office, having waited for transport near her apartment for a while.  She wanted to know if I had any luck getting into the city since I was still waiting, I was able to offer no good suggestions.  She said that one of the PC drivers told her that he may be going into Banjul at some point, so he may be able to give us a ride.  So, I waited a bit after I hung up, and with no end in sight, I caught a taxi headed in the direction of the PC office.  Long story (not-so) short Im still at the PC office.  I called the NaNA office and told them I was trying to get there, but knowing about the foil shortages, they understood if I didnt show.

Alright, today I wanted to talk about the Naming Ceremony- kulliyo in Mandinka.  I had no idea what to expect from it, so we all headed to our LCHs compound for our language lessons that morning.  Not a half-hour later our mothers all came holding dresses they proceeded to dress us (over our regular clothes).  At first she used a bright yellow dress for me (I felt a little like Big Bird) but there was some sort of stain on the shoulder and my host mother was mortified to have me wear it, so she went and got a different outfit.  They even tied a headwrap around my head (so tight I could hardly get my glasses on).  Then she had me lay this other piece of fabric (totally different from my dress) over my head she did the same whenever she prayed or was sick.

Anyway, they led us to the Alkalos compound where about 50 people were waiting for us.  There was a chair for each of us.  Then, one by one, they called each of us trainees to come to the center of the large circle everyone was standing in, and we sat on a bench while the Imam pretended to shave our heads (they actually do that in a real ceremony, we skipped over the slaughtering of a chicken too).  While he did that he asked our fathers what our new names were.  I was embarrassed that I didnt hear what he said mine was- I had to find out later from my LCH.  I mentioned before that Metanding means long waited for.  I guess that if a woman loses a child (or several), or miscarries, when she finally gives birth, this is the name they give the baby.  It is also used when it took a while for the woman to become pregnant. 

So, after that they passed around bags of the panketos we made the day before and little bags of wonjo- a juice made from steeping dried flowers (I think it may be hibiscus).  You have to bite the corner off the bag and suck the juice out, weird at first, but now it seems quite normal.  They also gave us kola nuts- I gave mine away though.  Apparently its common for men to chew them bit by bit throughout the day- they give something similar to a caffeine rush.

Then the drumming and dancing began.  The dancing in the village was much different than what Id seen when I first arrived more powerful than passionate.  They made us each try- Im sure I made a fool of myself, but it was fun.  After that is was over and we headed back to our LCHs for more language lessons.  Later that day the trainees from the next village walked over to visit it was fun to hear how their kulliyo went and see how they were doing with their families, food, etc.

Later that day I went to the pump to get some water this was my first experience of causing a small child cry by the mere sight of me.  I was mortified and almost cried with him.  Eventually he got over it and even smiled when he saw me.  I used to feel bad when that would happen, but I understand the why a bit more now.  Its not merely that I am so white I probably hurt their eyes but Ive learned that some parents tell their kids that if they dont behave, theyll have me(or any other toubab) come over and hit them.  Add to that the fact that if they have seen a white person before, it was probably a doctor or nurse who gave them some sort of injection.  Great to walk into that kind of perception, huh?  Now, I just feel bad for the poor kids!

Im going to end this post now, hoping to run over the internet café next door to the office and post it and a few pictures from the kulliyo.  I hope you enjoy. 

Take care of yourselves and each other!  ~ Sara/Meta

21 November 2002

Heres another excerpt from an e-mail I sent recently, talking about language and eating patterns.  It might help clarify some of my early posts

It is fun to hear how much people like hearing my stories, but lately Ive been realizing how much I HAVENT been mentioning, things I guess Ive just become accustomed to already.  So, Ive done a few flashback posts, now I think Ill have to come back to present-day for a while.  Theres still plenty more to tell about the village life, but I dont want to lose the fun of telling a story a bit more in the moment.

The language-learning is going alright, slowed a lot in the last 2 months.  Most of the people here in the urban area speak english, especially in the professional setting.  So, I dont get to practice all that often.  Im trying to be more persistent about making people speak Mandinka to me though.  I was planning on learning Wollof since it is more commonly spoken here in Banjul, but it was just complicating things since I could communicate much more proficiently in Mandinka, and many people speak it here.  In general, the greetings on the street are Wollof.  So, I concentrated on learning those, how to ask how much is that, and I want to buy.  Aside from that I ask people to speak Mandinka and I can get along pretty well at least for a little while, then we usually fall back on english when I get stumped.  So, basically, I start off in Wollof, then revert to Mandinka, then end up with english.  Its funny, but people here dont think anything of it, most of the conversations I overhear are a blend of all three (if not more) anyway.

For the record, you are right in your vision of eating in the village.  Basically, there is a big bowl that is shared by a family- my family had 2, one for the mother and girls, another for the father and sons.  So, yeah, they all sit around it, either on a mat or  a small stool, and eat with their right hand, forming a little ball with the rice, sauce, veggies, fish and/or meat.   It works out alright in terms of the liquid because they cook so much rice that it just holds the ball together.  Utensils are pretty rare- but I did see them in some cases.  I used a fork or spoon for the dinners I had in private most of the time.  You are right about the reason why the left hand isnt used a more hygienic call for that one.

Im at the office today, but most of my co-workers are either out at a meeting, on trek in the provinces or out of the country, so its me here with the 2 (volunteer secretaries) and the cleaner, so I decided to write a bit.  We all keep running to the window - lots of yelling on the streets.  I asked why everyone seemed so hyped-up lately, assuming it was due to the fasting, people just getting a little grouchy.  One of the secretaries said thats not necessarily it- she said everyone is trying to get to the market (not too far from my office) to get all the supplies for the up- coming holiday, Koriteh.  Thats fifteen days away, so Im not sure exactly what all theyre stocking up on, but everyone knows when a lot of people rush a store at home, its chaos and people get a little ruthless, its no different here.

Some of you have been asking what Ill be doing this year on Thanksgiving, my birthday and Christmas.  For Thanksgiving- we have an all-volunteer meeting here in the capital the day after, then on Saturday there is a big art auction where artwork collected/recruited by various volunteers is auctioned among other volunteers, American Embassy staff and expatriots.  The money is raised to go to a Peace Corps Scholarship fund.  I think that last years auction raised enough money to fully sponsor all the Gambian kids who applied for the scholarship ~ 100 or so (covers school fees).  After the auction we will have a big Thanksgiving Dinner together.  In years-past they used to break the volunteers into groups to cook the dinner at various homes of Embassy staff.   Because the food doesnt always turn out that great and a few people wind up doing a lot of the work while the rest of the group sips beers by a pool (ahh- just like home, right?) we decided to have the dinner catered this year.  One of the hotel owners suggested it.  Hes British and has never prepared an American Thanksgiving Dinner, but is extremely excited about it.  So, I will have Thanksgiving (albeit a few days late) at The Safari Garden sounds pretty exotic!

For my birthday I will probably be up-country.  A group of us are getting together in Soma to mark the end of our 3 month challenge, and my roommate and I plan on spending a few days in each of our training villages on the way back home.  I am excited about seeing my host family again.  Im not planning any big celebrations on my actual birthday.  Maybe Ill save up and go to the Chinese restaurant that isnt too expensive, or splurge on a little ice cream or pastry. 

Christmas plans are still a little vague.  Some people will be travelling to other countries, some are going home, but several of my friends will be coming up here to the Kombo area, insistent on spending Christmas on the beach I guess that sounds like a good enough plan for me!  Theres talk of doing a Secret Santa gift exchange, although none of us have much to give each other.  Thats when creativity and resourcefulness come in

I have become known among my training group as a hairdresser.  I dont really know how that happened I offered to trim one of my friends hair since I brought scissors, and someone else sat in the chair first and gave me free reign on her head it came out so good that I cut four other peoples hair over the next few days.  That all took place during swearing-in, Abbie is on the right hand side of the group pic, standing in the bottom row I think, wearing a black shirt and dark skirt.  Anyway, I had a repeat performance just this past weekend.  My training village-mate Michelle came up for the weekend to do some work for her school, so she stayed at my place.  When I gave someone else a trim, she asked for one too.  Only a few hours later she decided she wanted me to go ahead and chop her hair so I did, I think I took off about 4-5 inches.  I get really nervous that people are going to hate me for what I do to them, I feel like making them sign a waiver or something.  But- so far, so good.  Im not perfect, so I tell people to come back after they wash it so I can clean up an uneven parts or mistakes. 

OK, the other day my sister asked me if I lived in a suburb of Banjul because she noticed how long my commute is.  Well, I certainly would never have thought to call Latrikunda German a suburb, but theres nothing particularly city about it either.  Even Banjul isnt what youd picture a capital city to be.  Its actually an island, and it outgrew itself pretty quickly from what I understand.  So, with the urban sprawl you see everywhere, people had to start to settle the areas just across the bridge.  If you look at a map (I do have one under the maps of interest page) I actually live near Serrekunda.  Banjul proper is made up of many government offices, Albert Market, a few museums, a hospital and several clinics, many offices, restaurants and shops, a park, a church and streets filled with taxis, bush-taxis and people in varying degrees of African, Islam and Western-inspired outfits.  There are people who live here, but I cant give you a number of how many. 

Not everyone in the area has indoor plumbing or electricity, I see plenty of women still carrying buckets of water from the tap back to their compounds.  Of course there are people who live extremely well here too.  There are mansion-size houses with guards at the compound gate and everything.  My neighbors are an interesting mix.  Directly across the street is a Gambian compound with a guard at the gate, some sort of SUV in the garage and a generator that keeps their place pretty well lit-up when our power goes out.  Right next door is a Lebanese-Gambian family (they are originally from Lebanon, but now are citizens here like MANY other families here they decided to escape the madness of Lebanon).  They run a small hardware store attached to their house and are extremely nice.  The wife, Therese, is sweet and makes the best lime-ade Ive ever had.  Joe, her husband, is very nice too- and when I visited them last week he offered me a cold Heineken I had (wrongly) assumed they were Muslim.  From what I am learning, of the Lebanese living here, some are Christians and some are Muslims.  Too bad they cant co-exist in the West Bank as peacefully as they do here.  Anyway, they are pretty well off I think- they have a computer, generator and their daughter (who is deaf, is studying in England).  My landlord is doin alright too I think.  He is the retired chief of police (or the equivalent), and very well-respected (or at least feared) here.  He lives downstairs and has 3 other apartments in the compound that he rents out. I havent interacted too much with any of his other tenants yet.  So I hope all this rambling answers some of the questions you all have had.  Let me know if not

Take care of yourselves and each other!  ~ Sara/Meta

1 no 10 no 12, no 13 November 2002

Hello- this is my fourth attempt to post a message on my second day in the village- I hope this one works.  It wouldnt be so frustrating if it hadnt taken such a time, and wasted a few precious dalasi in the process. 

I seem to have slowed down in my mail-sending- pretty strictly just replying to letters received and birthday letters (if Ive missed yours, Im sorry I must not have had it in my book).  If you dont know if I know your birthday please let me know!  For those of you who have been asking when mine is December 19th.  

So, back to my village life Day 2:  I made myself stay in bed, dozing off and on, until about 6:45 am that first morning.  Usually I woke up to animal noises I could hear from my house, ironically even though I did hear roosters do their thing all-the-live-long-day, it was never them that woke me up.  I think that the most intrusive was the donkey yelping it doesnt really sound like an animal at all, unbelievably loud and frantic!  The goats are pretty loud too- and sometimes they sound like children crying, so that took a little while to get used to.  We found ourselves looking around to see where the hurt or lost kid was, only to find a little goat causin the scene... the other kind of kid.

I started my day with a bucket bath.  I should clarify- you dont get INTO the bucket- Little House on The Prarie style you have a little cup or kettle that you fill with water FROM the bucket, pour on yourself to get wet, soap up (they even gave us a loofah type thing), then rinse off with the water from the bucket.  It actually felt refreshing that the water was a little cold.  The feeling didnt last long, though.  As I was drying off I realized that I wasnt really getting dry.  Why you may ask?  Well, when its as humid as it was (is) nothing evaporates- the air is too saturated.  So dry became an elusive state of being- will someone remind me what it feels like?

After my bath, I slathered on my sunscreen- my daily ritual (Ive been VERY religious about it even though it makes me feel even hotter).  Soon after getting dressed my host mother brought a big bowl of rice porridge to my door.  I dreaded eating it- dont get me wrong, it looked and smelled fine, its just that it was steaming hot!  I thought for a minute that might just be too much heat for my already-stressed body to handle.  I tried to let it cool, then gave in and ate a bit since you all may know how nauseas, light-headed and, well- cranky I can get when I dont eat.

Then there was a knock at the door- it was my village-mate Michelle- needing me to sew a button back onto her dress.  She said she slept really well and I tried not to be too jealous.  We head out together to pick Jeff up and head to our language class.  Jeff has just gotten his porridge- and we laugh at him trying to eat it with his hand- not quite the same as the rice meals you can negotiate pretty well here with just one hand- porridge is a whole different thing.  I think most Gambians even use a spoon for it.  Anyway, we head to class, about a five minute walk- maybe less.  There seems to be a hundred people between his place and our LCHs though at least for the first few weeks.  It was a never-ending cycle of the greetings- we still were pretty clueless what was being said, so its all a confusing, exhausting blur.  Soon we get to our LCHs place and- luckily- begin our lesson on the greetings.  I posted them earlier, but I remember being really intrigued with their greetings- all very peace-centered.  I had a good feeling then about my two years here in The Gambia. 

We study for a little while and then its time for our first coffee break, we just sat outside on the veranda(front porch) and watched as the kids of the village sensed our beacon and came running over to sit and talk with us.  They asked us questions we have not learned yet, so we felt clueless.  Its rough to be shown-up by 6-10 year olds!  Soon enough we are back inside for more lessons.  Our LCH, Burama, is very good about encouraging us and gives us little pop-quiz type things to see if we are understanding.  I think we were doing pretty well for our first day!  At about noon we took another break and through some mystery to me, the kids are wandering back into the compound.  This time they decide to focus on identifying body parts, they point to my hair first- kortino- my most notable feature I guess.  Anyway, I drew a stick figure on my paper and they helped me label her various parts funny to look back at it and see where I was misunderstanding them.  For instance, I had labeled her right leg the word they use for right, not leg.  The kids seem proud that they can help us learn.  Some of the current volunteers had told us that learning from kids was usually the best. 

We have another short lesson before the woman who cooks our lunch- Mariama Diba comes, carrying our foodbowl (on her head).  She is about 19 years old, married to the nephew of our Alkalo, and has an adorable son named Lamin (what they name most first-born males).  I think hes about 2 years old- appeared to be terrified of us, but soon enough he was as comfortable grabbing onto our legs as anyone else in the compound.  I wound up becoming very good friends with Mariama, shes funny, tall, beautiful, and luckily for us, a great cook!  My parents just sent me some pictures Id taken one day while I was helping her cook- Ill try to post them soon. 

After lunch, we were supposed to have a 2 hour break- so we all decided to go back to our own houses (bungo)- figuring we could each strip down and take a little nap to pass through the hottest part of the day.  HA!  Thats all I have to say about that.  I tried to journal- too hot and sweaty.  I tried to sleep- too hot and sweaty.  I tried to just sit still- too hot and sweaty.  You get the idea.  After break we head back to our LCHs, but we dont stay there long, he walks us to the Alkalos compound where we sat under a mango tree while our host mothers and several of the other women from the village are helping Mariama prepare the panketos (think donuts with a slight banana flavor) for our naming ceremony (kuliyo).  It was amazing to watch this process.  Mariama distributed the ingredients, one at a time, between three big bins, each manned by about 3 women.  Please note, there are no measuring spoons or cups- she just approximated by using her hand or pouring the ingredients into the bins.  My host mother (Tumbulu Kamara) and Jeffs mother (Sajo Turre) work with another woman, but they occassionally look up to smile at us.  It was so cool to see them all kneading the dough- mind you with their right hand only (the left is used for other more hygenic business).  Soon its time to shape the dough into small balls.  They bring a handful over to us and have us help make one each.  They laugh as Jeff works his dough- I just dont think its a familiar sight to see a male do that.  Once that is done we follow the women to the area where they have set a kettle of oil over a fire, ready to fry the dough.  The women all are dancing as we approach- its hard to remember how exciting our arrival is for them too.  Soon they have us help by each dropping a ball of dough into the oil- they smelled great!  After that was done, we just headed back to our compounds.  I visited with one of the other volunteers for a bit, then headed back to my house before it got too dark. 

Soon, a boy I later learned was my brother Sherifo (they called him ~Sifo), brought my dinner.  I was sitting at my desk writing in my journal, eating my again-wonderful dinner.  Then I heard someone at the door calling my name.  There were several teenage boys there, one saying he had met me yesterday (which I couldnt disagree with- there were just SO many people!).  He said that he was my brother Lamin- and that he wanted to help me learn Mandinka since he knew English.  I told him maybe some afternoon he could help all of us trainees while it was still daylight and he wasnt at my house.  Then I tried to ask him where to bring my foodbowl, but he couldnt understand what I was asking, so I just told them I had to get back to my writing- thats what I did every night (not far from the truth).  Id been told to be very guarded about my house- especially with boys/men- a very seemingly subtle smile or friendly word or gesture on my part may be mistaken for a go-ahead with wedding plans!  So, I did my best to set some boundries no guests after dark for starters.

And that was the end of my 2^nd day in Bambako. 

Take care of yourselves and each other!

~ Sara/ Meta

13 November, 2002

Hello- I got a little computer time today, so I decided to go ahead and type my next story even though I havent had much luck posting my last one yet! 

I got an e-mail the other day with lots of questions that I thought you all might like to know the answers to so here we go.

Meal patterns- right now were in Ramaadan, so people (myself NOT included) are waking up at 5 or 5:30 am to eat breakfast, then are fasting until sunset when I think they pretty much pig out.  They dont even allow themselves water during the day.  My co-workers informed me that the whole office would be fasting, and I told them I would try, and would certainly not eat around them.  I did tell them that the water thing wasnt my bag, with my bodys reaction to the heat here namely sweating- I cant afford to go that long without water.  Luckily, they make exceptions on who has to fast- if you have been sick, or are pregnant, or are less than 10 years old- you dont have to, I even heard a woman tell me that she doesnt fast while shes menstruating, but she makes that time up, she fasted a few days before Ramaadan started.  Im hoping that Ill get to have dinner with a Gambian family before the fast is over to see what thats like.  This is when I get frustrated that I dont have a host family here in the city.

Since Ive been in the capital area, Ive observed that people do eat a bit before starting the day, not sure what exactly, but I hear people talk about bread and rice.  Then, at about 10:30-11 am, my co-workers all have breakfast.  Some people have tea and bread, others have a chicken, steak or fishball (think meatball they ARE good) sandwich from a restaurant near our office.  Then, they have an afternoon snack, maybe a piece of fruit from one of the vendors outside, or some peanuts.  I think that most families here have dinner around 7pm although Ill have to get back to you on that once I get to see firsthand.  On the whole, its very different here away from the rural areas.

In the village, I was presented my breakfast between 7:30-8:30 am- usually bread (baguette style loaf) and tea I usually added peanut butter or jam to my bread to help it last longer, sometimes I would get rice porridge or cerre (pronounced like cherry) which is a cous porridge.  Ok, dont think its the same as cous cous its not.  I think that cous is the grain we call millet.  It was alright.  Different villages grow different things.  Mine grew rice, so thats what we had most of the time, the Wollof villages near us grew cous, so they had that most of the time.  It was like a delicacy in my village though, my mother always brought it to me with a big smile on her face.

Lunch came between 1-2 pm and that is where I concentrated on getting most of my nourishment.  It was arranged by Peace Corps, so there was always some protein- usually chicken, sometimes fish or beans, vegetables- usually cabbage, carrots, sweet potatoes, bitter tomatoes, cucumbers (they cooked them which is a little weird I have to say since they get all squishy except the tough peel), eggplant (called garden eggs here), squash, cooked green leaves, hot peppers, potatoes and of course- rice!  Mind you, we never got all of those vegetables at one meal but usually 3-4 in each lunch bowl.  I made myself eat until I was full- usually the last to leave the bowl no surprise to many of you Im sure!

Supper came LATE usually between 8 and 9:30 pm- sometimes it was a struggle to wait up for it!  My family was good cooks- so I enjoyed most of my dinners.  One notable exception- it had too much hot pepper in it I could only take a bite or two before my eyes would start watering and my sinuses draining.  But, like I said, usually it was very good.  I got my own bowl for supper since I ate in my own house most of the time.  Even when I did eat outside with my family, I still got my own bowl.  Sometimes the dinner they made for me was a little different that what they made for themselves- they didnt want to be too risky with my meals I think.  So, heres what it looked like: rice(noticing a trend?), then a sauce made of ground fish, hot pepper, cooked green leaves and oil.  Occasionally they would throw it a few cooked noodles on top, very rarely did I see vegetables besides cooked greens at night though.  I was lucky to get fish most nights (dried or smoked)- sometimes a whole fish- head and all (a sign of respect).  I had to be careful of the bones, but otherwise it worked out very well for me.  They only served me beef once, and I luckily wasnt too hungry, so I gave most of it to my younger brother to eat.  Other than fish there wasnt much meat eaten at supper, which was fine by me! 

As far as meals go, its pretty much whatever is in the food bowl and thats it, there isnt anything like side dishes in the village, having a little bread on the side is an option I guess, but our town didnt have a baker, so it was rare for me to see it.  Dessert- I dont think I ever saw any dessert in the village, except attaya drinking.  Right now there are watermelons for sale everywhere I look, so I wonder if people have those for dessert.  We have a few times at my apartment.

In the village, people did use the animals in their yard for meals, eggs werent very commonly used for some reason, people are started to promote them a little better now, especially for kids.  There isnt much milk drinking here- most of the cows I saw were bulls, but from what I hear most of the local milk available to buy is contaminated.  They have powdered milk, which I buy, but is probably too expensive for most families, especially in the village.  They even have the shelf-stable liquid milks, but those are even more expensive.  Sour milk is pretty popular here, but there are very few people who make it from what I hear.  We were told to stay away from that as long as possible.  Many people have tried it and havent gotten sick, so its probably OK.  I have the local yogurt sometimes- I think its very good.  Snacking didnt happen very often, maybe if there happened to be a mango available, or most of the time, they just drank attaya- that was basically a snack to them enough sugar in it to last them until their next meal too I bet! 

Food is generally pretty inexpensive here, at least the stuff you get at markets.  Grocery stores are a whole other ball game most of the stuff there is imported from Europe or England and is pricey!  To buy a small jar of peanut butter at a store is about D30, when we went to the market a few weeks ago, we brought 2 big jars and had a woman fill them both with local peanut paste (no sugar or salt added I think), it was D20 altogether.  If you ask me, theres not much of a reason to import PB when you grow peanuts right here, but hey.  I got 2 small bunches of scallions, they wouldve been D1, but the woman in the next stall wouldnt let me pay, Id met her a few weeks ago, a really sweet Nigerian lady, but she paid for my scallions.  Two generous bunches of some green leaves (I think sorrel) was about D1.  I had been getting crackers at a grocery store, I found a package that was only D10 (~$0.50), but then all of the sudden, it got jacked up to D25 unfortunately putting it out of my price range!  For the record, I still splurge on cookies, usually D12-D25- one habit from home I intend on keeping up here.  I usually get bread from the little bitik (store) right near my apartment.  When I say little, I mean it, its like a closet and is piled high with all sorts of odds & ends you might need.  Sometimes I get eggs there too- they import those too even though theres chickens everywhere.  Anyway, they sell them fresh or hardboiled, so I usually get the latter and put it on some bread with a little triangle of processed cheese (think airplane food), or hummus- helps to have a big Middle-Eastern originated population nearby!

My roommate and I invested in a 50kg bag of rice (I dont think that was locally grown either which is a shame), and were starting a pool to see who can guess how long it will take us to use it up.  Were getting pretty creative with it, Ive gotten good at making the porridge and a nice rice dessert with milk and cinnamon and nutmeg, and cooking up veggies with whatever sauce we can conger up to serve over the rice.  My roommate just made an amazing risotto type thing as she called it, we splurged on a can of spinach for that!  We make a lot of soup too, so were dealing pretty well for now.  We figured with all the urban-area volunteers talking about running out of money by the end of the month, wed better have a reserve to fall back on I think well make it- they sell bullion cubes and if necessary, that and rice will suffice.  Local beans arent to expensive either, so Im sure well get by!

OK, so please let me know what YOUR questions are, Ill do my best to answer them.  And Patrick Hudson to answer your question I havent seen any different animals since I wrote you last.  Ill let you know!

 Take care of yourselves and each other.

 Sara/Meta

19 October, 2002

Alright, I thought I would flash back for you all to the day I was dropped off in my training village.  We left Banjul on the morning of July 11^th, it took about 3 hours to get to the first village.  The distance isnt what took so long, it was the potholes in the road that seemed to go to the center of the earth!  Sometimes it was so bad that we had to drive on the shoulder (I use that term loosely) of the road, with the branches of trees slapping the side of our bus (called The Coaster).  It was scary, so I didnt try to watch too much.  there was a big flatbed truck in front of us that held all of our luggage, and at one point they needed to adjust some things, so we stopped and they told us if we needed to go to the bathroom- and most of us did, that this was the place to do it.  OK trying to go with the flow I looked around and all I could see was an empty field.  So, a big group of girls waded through a field of dry, crunchy grass to where there were some trees and bushes to give us a little privacy.  I was prepared though, brought tissues and my anti-bacterial hand gel and was happy to share that with everyone else!

It was an interesting ride overall, some people had pulled out their photo albums and were talking about their friends and families from home, other people were talking about what their job or school had been like, and other people were unsuccessfully trying to pretend like they werent have a major anxiety attack.  I was alright until we made our first stop.  We saw the first 3 of our trainees step off the Coaster into a crowd of African children who had probably been waiting all day- if not all month- for their arrival.  At first I was scared for them, I wished them luck and all the rest of us watched from the windows as they were led to their LCH (Language and Cultural Helper) and began introductions to their host families and communities.  I felt OK, more calm seeing the trainees with smiles on their faces, not looking back at us with panicked eyes like I had been afraid of.

There was one more stop before my village, and before I knew it I was climbing off The Coaster trying to say what little Mandinka I knew Salaam Maleekum (peace be upon you), and I tondi (what is your name).  All the kids asked me my name over and over again.  At first I was confused, hadnt they heard it the other 15 times Id said it in the last minute?  Then I realized that the same why I knew very little Mandinka and was trying to use it- they knew very little english, and wanted to use it on me.  So, I just smiled and told them my nameagain and again.

It really is a blur what happened over the new few hours, but I have my journal in front of me, so hopefully the details will come back.  We were led to the compound where our LCH was staying.  A compound is basically a grouping of the houses of one family- grandparents and down, or adult brothers and sisters even, but it is usually enclosed by either a fence, corrugate metal or a cement-brick wall.  Anyway, I had my large pack and a duffle bag which one of the older boys was carrying even though I tried to tell him I could handle it.  The three of us trainees in Bambako (Jeff Ziarnick, Michelle Moh and I) were all dazed and confused by the time we got to our LCH- Brahmas house (his name is a variation on Ebrima from Abraham).  There was a PCV with us who had been a trainee in Bambako just last year, so she was there to help us get adjusted, and she was very nice and patient.  He said we would need to go check out the different houses to see who would stay in which one.  So, we left our bags at his place and headed out for a modified tour of the village and picking of our houses.  The first stop was the Alkalos compound- Yabo kunda, which is where Sabrina- the PCV with us- had stayed last year.  The Alkalo is the village chief, so anyone who stayed there we figured would be pretty well looked after.  Michelle spoke up the quickest to wanting to stay there, but we decided to look at all the options and then pick. 

Next stop was Demba kunda, I dont remember much about looking at the houses- I had no idea which I would want!  Last stop was Darbo kunda which is where I picked- or wait, I let the other two pick first.  But, Im glad I did.  I wound up being the furthest from our LCHs compound which wasnt by choice, but Jeffs compound was just across from mine- I could see his front door from mine, so I wasnt too far from help if I needed it. 

Once we had the housing decision made, we went back to get our bags.  They wouldnt let me carry ANYTHING this time, a boy about 11 years old took my big pack and carried it on his head, I felt bad and made a fuss, but he just laughed and walked ahead of me.  There was a swarm of kids all around me, each trying to hold my hand.  And.so we began our now familiar song of I tondi and what is your name.  They seemed to have trouble saying Sara, and I thought it was a good thing they would be giving us Gambian names soon.

When I got to my place it was hard to know where to start.  There was my bed, a desk and chair and a large trunk full of goodies and essentials that Peace Corps gave us.  So, I started to look through that.  There was a lot of stuff in there that I was glad to see- a mosquito net (even though my lovely little sister had bought one for me), a water filter, mosquito coils, bug spray, a kerosene lantern, a bowl, a cup, a bathing loofah-type thing, crackers, corn flakes, powdered milk, peanut butter, local honey, sugar, tea bags, jam, toilet paper (thank God), bed sheets and some silverware.  It was great- but the best item must have been the plastic hand fan I found at the bottom.  I think I found it at just the right time too.  It seemed like every move I made raised my body temp. about 5 degrees- I was overheating, sweating and feeling like I might pass out.  Add to that having to go pee again.  But, since I didnt have any water to wash my hands I decided to wait since Sabrina would be by soon to help me hang my mosquito net, put together my water filter and walk with me to the pump to fill my 2 buckets (one for bathing, the other for drinking water).  The pump seemed pretty far away- I think it was probably about a half-mile walk but I have no real gift for judging distance, so there you go.  The kids ran along the side of me and Sabrina and insisted on carrying the buckets on the way to the pump.  You guessed right, we sang our favorite song again, I tondi, and what is your name.  When we got to the pump  (not a well which I was glad about), the little girls ran up and worked the pump.  I carried one of the buckets back, awkwardly enough and spilling some of the water on my legs as I bumped all the way back to my house.  Sabrina heaved the other bucket on her head and didnt spill a thing that was when I decided that I would HAVE to learn to do that. 

After Sabrina helped me get my house set up, I tried- albeit unsuccessfully- to cool myself down a bit no luck.  Then there was a knock at my door- it was Jeff and some of the village boys asking if I wanted to go for a walk around the village.  We tried to get our bearings on the village set-up while being greeted by the villagers- who tried to talk with us, but we had no idea what was going on.  The boys tried to help us muddle through our conversations, but mostly we had to resort to naïve smile, wave and walk technique.  We would have plenty of time to talk with our new neighbors once we had a few language lessons under our belt. 

We tried to find our way to Michelles compound no luck, but we did wind up at our LCHs.  Good thing too, he told us that we would be heading out soon to go do our formal introductions to the Alkalo, the TBA (Traditional Birth Attendant), Imam (religious leader), and VHW (Village Health Worker).  It was fun to see the villagers be so excited to see Sabrina again, it was like a homecoming for her, and I admit to thinking how fun it would be when I could come home to Bambako.  Brahma helped us get through the introductions, translating what people were saying to us, and then telling us what to say in response.  We had no clue what we were saying, but figured we would soon enough.  The villagers got a kick out of us trying, so we tried to just laugh along since it didnt seem mean-spirited in the least.

When we were done with the tour I headed back to my compound and as I got to the door of my house, my host mother her name is Tumbulu Kamara brought me my dinner.  Families eat outside, together, sitting around a food bowl eating with their hands.  Luckily, they understood that I needed some space, especially on my first night, and she just brought my bowl to my door and said my newest Mandinka expression: A baraka (thank you).  The bowl felt so hot I didnt want to think about how much more I could possibly sweat, so I let it sit for a bit, I even took a picture for posterity.  It was great!  Rice with a peanut sauce that was out-of-this-world.  I couldnt finish all that they had given me even though it was so good.  So, I wanted to bring my left-overs out so someone else in the family could eat them, but I walked out the door and it was so dark that I couldnt see where to walk, and I couldnt even see if anyone was outside, so I just stepped back inside and got ready for bed.  Sabrina said she had always returned her dinner bowl in the morning when she got breakfast, so I figured it was alright.

It was dark, so I took my headlamp and water and all out back to my bathing/commode area and did alright getting cleaned up until I took the lid off my commode 3 large roaches climbed out!  I resisted my urge to scream, and decided to hold it until morning when there was daylight and the roaches would keep quiet.  It was hard to settle into sleep- I could hear people talking and singing outside, and I could hear a radio show playing from a stereo somewhere close.  I finally fell asleep- sleeping in 2-3 hour intervals when I would check the time on my clock and the temperature.  I dont know how it was possible, but it was actually getting HOTTER. (30 to 33 C ~ 95F)- unbelievable.

So, that is my first day of village life all the gory details ( I think- unless Ive repressed some).  It was an adventure- but in retrospect, all a funny sequence of my adjustments.    Bottom-line I survived, and didnt think about ET-ing once! (ET= Early Termination, AKA= running home).  More to come, keep checking!

I hope that all is well.  Take care and please keep in touch.

11 October 2002

Hello again.  I am so happy to be able to announce that I have finally moved into my apartment!!!  Bonnie (my roommate) and I spent most of last weekend cleaning/scrubbing/reclaiming the (very)used stove and refrigerator and rest of the apartment.  It is already starting to feel like home though, I have unpacked most of my stuff now and am getting comfortable there.  Im trying to note the pattern of when we have water and electricity- the latter is a bit more unpredictable.  The water usually stops at about 8 or 8:30 AM, and Im not sure if it comes back on during the day, but when I get home from work it is usually still off, and doesnt come back until about 8/8:30pm- so we have lots of bottles and buckets of water on hand, and keep both of our water filters full.  Many of my first showers at the new place were actually bucket baths- I guess village life DID prepare me for being a developing-world urban dweller after all!  The electricity, well- thats inconsistent, I guess the majority of evenings/nights weve been there we have been without it, but we bought lots of candles, and both have lanterns (now just have to find some kerosene), so it all works out alright.  Luckily, the apartment stays pretty cool, we get a nice breeze.  We have a second story apartment and it even has a little balcony/porch (a bit more sturdy than my old place on Adams Ave- aka- not held up by a hinge!)  My bedroom is on the front of the house, and when I look out my window in the morning, I have a view of Bonnies pretty little shell wind-chime and a palm tree it could be a post-card!

There is some work that needs to be done per Peace Corps standards and all- and there was a hold-up with that because the US budget hadnt been passed, but I take it thats resolved now since the PC handiman brought by a load of supplies today, and thinks the workers will be able to start in the next few days.  There are some ceiling panels that are water-damaged and look like they may burst soon, and some loose/migrating floor tiles, a few broken door handles and some lights that look a little questionable.  Nothing too major, so were obviously surviving there just fine for now.  But, they said theyll be repainting and we can buy colorizer if we want to make it pretty-(a.k.a other than white wash walls which will soon be brown due to dust during dry season) so we just may want to do that!

I mentioned a stove and fridge heres the deal.  If we were living in a village, we wouldve bought a two-burner unit with a hose to attach to a tank of gas.  Since there are two of us, we went ahead and got a 4-burner (3 of them work) and oven unit- wound up being less total than if each of us had gotten the burners.  So, Bonnie spent a solid day scraping out layers of mung for lack of a better word and made it clean enough to useexcept that we had no tube to connect the gas to the stove.  So, for a few days there it sat teasing us as we ate PB&Js and ramen noodles (we splurged on an electric kettle).  Finally, Tuesday we got the tube and a regulator (so we dont have a gas leak) and had our first home-cooked meal in our new home.  Both of us are pretty good cooks so I have no fear that those few pounds that fell off while I was sick will be back in no time (not that therell be a big welcome-back party or anything!)  Then theres the fridge.  Well, the PCV who was there before us told us that another PCV would be taking the fridge- but there it was when we moved in!  We thought they just had pity on us and were letting us keep it, so I spent the better part of a day scrubbing that within an inch of its life only to find out the other girl DOES still want it.  So, it will be leaving this weekend I think.  Bonnie and I early on decided it would help us SAVE money in the long-run to have a fridge- storing leftovers and all of that, so a lady she works with took her out shopping for a used one (new ones WAY out of our price range by a few thousand dalasi!).  Shed thought it would only be D600-800, but it wound up costing D1300 ouch.  But, everything is more expensive this year than last, and it IS bigger than the other one.  Still, it hurt having to pull a little money out of my American account today.  Its not the fridges fault alone no there is something I have to admit toand justify. 

You see, there was a problem with the phone line in the apartment, apparently someone was pirating the number and charging calls to Germany and such and running up HUGE bills that NO PCV could afford so after talking with the PC financial guy Lamin, we collectively decided that it would be safer for us to both just get a cell phone.  It really freaked me out when we first got here to see cell phones attached to everyones ear.  At least they havent gotten to the hands-free-looks-like-youre-talking-to-yourself stage like the US, but still it was very weird to hear jingle bells, Should auld acquaintance be forgot, Amazing Grace, Happy Birthday, and that song that goes every little thing that you do (Boom, boom), should be between me and you (Boom, boom)- ringing from peoples purses and pockets.  And now I have joined the ranks- but at least my family can call me at their convenience.  Whenever I meet Gambians, they ask my name, how long Ill be staying here and what my mobile number is (havent given it out to anyone except co-workers, think Id like to keep it on the DL).

I regret to inform everyone that my camera is not well.  It has survived numerous falls (one of note off a cliff in Ireland, right Jamie & Jeff?), and has continued to work like a charm!  But, for some reason, the morning of our swearing-in ceremony, something went haywire.  Not sure if there was a sand or humidity offender that invaded the zoom thang, but it is UNHAPPY!  So, Im trying to see if its fixable now, and at the same time debating if I should give in and get a digital camera.  Dilemmas.  All that money Id saved before coming is somehow vanishing before my eyes but I think that will be slowing down soon once Im settled.

I think for one of my next entries I will pull out my first journal (now on the last few pages of my second), and tell some more stories from the village. 

For now, things are well here.  I am feeling MUCH better than last weekend (THANK GOD!!!) .  There are some problems I dont like to advertise, so I wont. The first of the tests they did came back fine, and there was one they had to send back to DC to run, so itll be a few weeks before I hear from that.  Since I made such a quick recovery, it will probably come back fine too, though!

We had a big all-staff meeting at work the other day.  Everyone gave status reports on the work theyve been doing and upcoming projects (they just got an extension on some World-Bank funded stuff), and then we discussed how Tony (a Nigerian volunteer, also a dietitian) and I can best fit into the Agencys work plan.  I think itll be good for me to start feeling useful again.  Tomorrow I am headed up-country near Soma for a session that NaNA is providing at the meeting of Youth for Food Security (or something like that), Im excited about that- AND about being up-country again although it will only be for the day.  We are officially supposed to be doing a 3-month challenge right now, so we arent supposed to be away from our site overnight.  Actually, there are many different definitions of the challenge, some say it means you dont see any other Americans (pretty near impossible with so many of us in such a tiny country), others say it means you dont come to Kombo (well, since I LIVE here thats null & void), so Ill just take it to mean not spending the night away from home base.  Anyway, we will probably have to drive right past Bambako, so maybe I can convince the driver to stop so we can say Hi to my family there!  Ill have to plan a real visit there soon to spend some real time.  Theres actually an end of the Challenge party in mid-December in Soma/ Mansa Konko, so maybe I can fit the visit in then!

I hope that you are all well.  Id love to hear from you all, the letters Ive been getting are great- but how are the rest of you doing?  A regular letter only costs $0.80 and you are guaranteed a response, so youve got nothing to lose!  As far as e-mails go, please remember to remove me from your forwards, etc list- I have to pay to use the internet most of the time, and those are REALLY frustrating for me, and really slow the computer down!  E-mail if you have something urgent to tell me, or would otherwise not write at all.  Id rather see an e-mail than not hear from someone for the whole 2 years!

Take care of yourselves and each other. 

Love and peace ~ Sara/Meta