Sunday, July 22, 2007

Peace Out Until Late September

I probably won't be back to computer access until late September, so hopefully I'll have some updates then.

In the meantime, I'll be writing letters, keeping my journal, and hopefully will have some funny stories and some updates on the progress of my projects then.

Keep those letters (and packages if so obliged) coming and don't forget to send everything AIR MAIL/PAR AVION!!!

All my best.

Love and miss you all.

Requests and Dedications (Please)

In a previous post, you found me pleading for all of you out there to send me CD mixes. I said I wanted anything, except country (again, I apologize to all you (secret) country fans*). However, since I've had a few days to think about this and still have computer access (until tomorrow when I head back to site for a good 6-8 weeks), I realized that I do have a few requests and perhaps by you fulfilling my request, it'd be like you're sending out a dedication to me, your friend who is afar, and I'd be ever so appreciative.

Requests
(Note: List not exhaustive---send me new stuff, top 40, your faves...my ears are open and your selections will help me 'readjust' when I return to the States.)

-Jeff Buckley
-The Police
-Editors
-The Shins
-Pink Floyd
-Belle & Sebastian
-Morrissey
-Guillemots
-Depeche Mode
-Interpol
-The Clash
-Sting
-The Kaiser Chiefs
-U2 (duh!)
-David Gray
-Hard-FI
-Counting Crows
-Incubus
-The Cure
-Modest Mouse
-Van Morrison
-Rolling Stones
-David Bowie
-Random dance mixes (ie. songs that remind me/you of going out or driving in the car (ie. Rav4))

**To Steve Hess, if you're inclined to make me a CD mix, I allow you to put country songs on it...but all of you should realize that he is the only one that is granted permission.

Thursday, July 19, 2007

Yes, It Really Does Take 12 hrs 45 mins to Travel 350km Here

I hope by now that those of you who periodically check my blog have come to the realization that I don't have access to the Internet unless I come to Kombo. There are locations closer to my site where I can use the Internet, but its availability is hit or miss or just downright frustrating, so I tend to not update when at site.

In light of this, I'd like to detail what it takes for me to get to Kombo so that one can better appreciate the blog updates in the future (not to say you all don't appreciate them now). So here goes...

The Roads
When traveling in the Gambia and living below the River Gambia, on the south bank, one has TWO options for roads to travel on...
Option 1: South Bank Road/TransGambian Highway (sounds sophisticated, huh?). Option #1 takes slightly less time than Option #2 (to be detailed later), but the road is riddled with gargantuan, man-eating potholes and has not been resurfaced since the 1970s. While the speed on the South Bank Road ranges between 60-100 km/h, one driving on the road cannot travel that fast as the vehicle's tire, shocks,and pretty much everything else, would be destroyed in a matter of minutes.
Option 2: North Bank Road.
Option #2 takes slightly more time than Option 1, despite the fact that the road is nicely paved (even has solid white line down the middle). The reason Option 1 takes more time is that there are two ferry crossings involved. One to cross from South Bank (where I live) to North Bank and one at the end of the trip to cross North Bank into Banjul, the capitol (which is an island).

The Vehicles
Although it is tempting to ride my Peace Corps-issued Trek bike (think: my company car for the next two years) all the way to Kombo (an adventure a few Volunteers do every year and I may try to do next year) to avoid the roads, I had to pick Option 1 or Option 2. I'd travelled Option 1 numerous times and so I decided that it would be best for me to learn how to travel via Option 2. The vehicles that travel on Option 1 and Option 2 are the same vehicles, gele-geles, which are gutted Mercedes-Benz vans (see earlier blog entry).

The Journey
So the day before my departure, I could not decide as to whether I should venture via Option 1 or Option 2 and by the time I went to sleep that night, I decided it would be a decision I'd make once I woke up the next morning. I set my alarm for 5:30am; I awoke. I laid in bed for about 30 minutes, contemplating what I should do. I finally decided to bite the bullet and to travel on the North Bank. I had all my things packed and hurriedly brought in my water buckets, pulled a few weeds (so as to not return to a jungle in my backyard), and close my windows. I said good-bye to my host family who wished me safe travels. I walked about 1/2 km to the road and sat and waited for a gele-gele (#1). I was able to catch a gele-gele after waiting only about 20 minutes along the road. I head west about 10km and got dropped at the carpark and quickly looked for a car to Barra, which is where the ferry station is on the North Bank. Unfortunately, however, there were none available. My plan to go North Bank was defeated, so I chose to look for a car (#2) going South Bank and would then cross at another crossing area further west to the North Bank. I got into a gele-gele and...waited and waited and waited...until the car became full. While waiting, however, a car (#3) heading to Barra magically appeared. Yay! I could try North Bank again. I switched cars and again...waited and waited and waited. After waiting for almost two hours, the driver realized that the car was never going to fill and he cancelled (don't worry, I got my money back).

In the midst of my waiting, I befriended an older Gambian gentleman who was working at the local school. He convinced me that I should try to catch a gele-gele going east (towards my village) and cross at the island crossing. I believed he had a good idea and opted to have a travel buddy for the day to show me the ropes. So, we both ventured onto another gele-gele (#4). Some of my fellow villagers were on the gele-gele heading back towards my village and were thoroughly confused when I didn't get off at my village but proceeded to the island. I just tried to explain to them that I was trying to get to Kombo. Bewildered, they got off and disappeared onto the dirt road and probably told my family that Jaliika was on the gele-gele and didn't stop...

So, we crossed at the island and plopped on the North Bank. We looked for gele-gele to Farafenni. The first one that we picked charged too much, so we got out and waited on another gele-gele (#5). The driver said it was going straight through to Farafenni, but once we were on our way, the driver stopped every now and then to not just pick up passengers (which is normal), but to also pick up 2 bundles of firewood from the side of the road and run whatever other errands needed to be done along the way. About halfway to our destination, the driver told everyone to get out and that we needed to transfer to another vehicle (#6), with no further explanation. In addition, he also tried to overcharge us, but my traveling buddy knew what was going on and demanded we have our money returned. We then quickly picked up a new gele-gele that experienced some mechanical problems and I was dropped at the side of the road about 40km from the destination. I sat with my traveling buddy, ate a mango, and tried to chat to the women who were sitting under a mango tree. Halfway through my mango, another gele-gele (#7) arrived and scooped us up and finally took us to our destination.

Once at Farafenni carpark, I was hounded by crazy drivers and their apprentices to get aboard a car to Barra, to cross at the ferry. By this point in the day, however, it was around 3:45pm and I did not want to risk getting into Kombo by dark, so I called a friend to ask if I could crash at his place. Thankfully, he said yes. I waited at the car park for approximately 1 hour and then finally, or so I thought, headed to my destination point for the evening. As we pulled out of the carpark, the gele-gele (#8) abruptly stopped once on the main road. The driver decided he wanted to add a few more passengers to an already filled car. He also needed to tie four (4!) goats to the roof of the gele-gele so that they could ride in style with their owners, my fellow passengers. In addition, a lady carrying a live chicken by its feet in one hand and a boombox in the other, boarded the vehicle. Underneath my seat (I got a special seat next to the driver thanks to my traveling buddy), was an old man's 3 kilos of dried fish tied in paper and string.

After about an hour on the gele-gele, I finally reached my evening's destination and waited on the side of the road for my friend to meet me. I was estatic to almost be in Kombo and to see a familiar Volunteer face.

Highlights
I cleaned the dirt from under my fingernails twice that day, and the cloth I used turned brown immediately. I rode next to chickens as if they're human passengers. I ate an entire loaf (small baguette-like) piece of bread with peanut butter for breakfast and lunch. I did NOT get seasick while crossing the ferry.

The next morning, my Peace Corps friend and I ventured to the Barra ferry (another 1 hour gele-gele ride) and crossed and then took multiple taxis to our FINAL destination.

While the day was long and took almost 13 hours to get to Kombo, I must say that transport here now doesn't seem to phase me. It's going to be an odd feeling to be able to travel 60 miles in 45 minutes when I return to the States...

So the next time you're stuck in traffic, think of me sitting by the side of the road, under a mango tree, waiting for my 7th vehicle and perhaps it'll make your time stuck in gridlock a little brighter...at least your car radio works...

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

The Answer Is NO.

This week, I'm in Kombo to take care of some medical stuff (don't worry, I'm not dying), and this morning I went for a run to the beach. My runs to/on the beach in the past have been fairly mundane, with the exception of when one of my fellow Volunteers was bitten by a dog as we were running down a cliff trail. However, this morning, within the 40 minutes of my run, I was asked by four Rasta-bumsters if they could join me on my run. Instead of playing along with them and giving them a hard time back, I decided that I didn't have the energy to deal with them, so each time one asked, "Can I join you?" I simply replied, "NO." As I walked to the office this morning, I was greeted by a man coming from one of the cross junctions, who asked if I'd like to "take breakfast". Again, I replied a firm "NO."

Nonetheless, I think I'll be well prepared for my re-entrance into city life when I return to the States. I'll be able to handle cat calls, annoying taxi drivers, and crazy street merchants with ease.

Monday, July 16, 2007

Some of My New, New Hobbies



(Above is my farmer friend, Mbille Ceesay-yellow shirt and funny hat. Mbille and I go to the garden every evening and try to build the fence and prepare the fence before the rains really come. Mbille is crazy, but a good crazy and he's hardworking.)

So in this journey called Peace Corps, I'm learning a lot about myself and my abilities/talents/qualities I never realized I had or recently acquired...

Since I've been at site now for almost three-months and I'm beginning (slowly, slowly) to embark on projects, with which I hope to put these new talents to use:

-Digging holes for fence posts with a lead pipe
-Laying eucalyptus tree logs into dug-out fence post holes
-Communicating in Mandinglish (Mandinka/English) with my crazy farmer friend, Mbille Ceesay
-Nailing barbed wire to wooden fence points
-Searching for chicken wire amongst the weekly market
-Having Mandinglish conversations on my mobile
-Waking up to the rains falling on my corrugate roof and running outside to close my windows whilst not getting TOO soaked
-Clicking my tongue as to express my disgust and disdain
-Scoring free fruit from the market sellers
-Talking to myself so as to keep myself sane (No really, it helps!)
-Wiping out on sand patches whilst riding my bike and having old men laugh at me as I stumble to the ground
-Instilling faith in the villagers that I'm an expert gardener, teacher, and health care worker.
-Walking peacefully with donkeys, cows, sheep, and goats
-Painting cement and plaster walls
-Weeding my backyard, weekly
-Pseudo beating-up my little brother when he speaks Mandinka too fast
-Hanging out under cashew trees in hopes that small children will NOT find me (they find me every, single time.)

Musings from Journal Entry # 5143 (Number Made Up), July 11, 2007

Thoughts/Comments I Wish I Could Say (especially when temperamental)---
But Can't and Won't...


1. How many times do I have to tell you?---I will NOT go to the rice fields to work. I do know it is hard work, however. Better you than me...

2. Telling me that I can't do something or that it's too heavy or too far only encourages me further to prove to you I CAN do it and that it's not heavy and not far.

3. I still can't determine if you all are yelling or arguing when you speak to each other.

4. Turning the radio up at night only perpetuates shouting (see # 3) and worsens your hearing.

5. Learn and know your pronouns. (Sister = she; Son = he)

6. Fourteen to eighteen year-old boys are annoying, no matter where you live in the world.

7. Cocky fourteen to eighteen year-old boys are even more annoying. (see #6)

8. Laughing at me when I'm trying to speak your langauge only makes me want to hit you.

9. I sound the same in Mandinka as you do when you try to speak English, your national language.

10. No, I will NOT marry you.

11. No, I will NOT take you to America (even if you can point to it on a map).

12. No, I will NOT give you money.

13. While vomitting and diarrhea are signs & symptoms of malaria, it does not mean that everyone with those symptoms has malaria.

14. Instead of trying to have me take you to America (see #11), work with me in trying to improve your quality of life here.

15. Take care of the things I give you and try not to destroy them.

16. Fix the South Bank Road...please!

17. Stop picking up your children like mama monkeys pick up their babies (by one arm and heaving them on their backs). You'll dislocate your children's arms!

18. If you complain to me about not having money, please don't be smoking while doing so. All that money you spend on cigarettes could be spent more wisely.

19. Making a hissing noise as I walk by does NOT, by ANY means, entice me to turn around and look at you.

20. Speaking louder does NOT make me understand your Mandinka better. I may hear you better, but chances are I still can't understand you.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Send Me Music, Please!

About three weeks into my stay at my permanent site, I was doing laundry in my backyard one morning and thought it would be a good idea to listen to my iPod while washing my clothes in a 20L basin. I thought I securely fastened the iPod to my wrap skirt; upon completion of my laundry, I was discarding the dirty water and tripped. The cord of my iPod caught onto the handle of the wash basin and in plopped my iPod. I retrieved it fairly quickly, but much to my chagrin, the iPod warning-triangle-caution man came flashing on the iPod screen and then it died. I tried to dry it out, tried to charge it, and tried to pray it back to life, but alas, my iPod is dead.

So everyone, here's where you all come in...if you happen to send me a letter, can you possibly drop in a mix CD too? I'd be ever so appreciative. At this point, I don't really care what type of music, just please don't send me country (sorry to all you country fans).

Thanks!

It Doesn't Matter Here

A few weeks ago, I helped my cousin, Fanta (yes, like the soda), who is 16, with her homework. Fanta is in grade 8, despite her being 16. Most children start school late here. In the Gambian education system, all students are taught subjects in English, but unfortunately, many of the students do not have mastery of the English language. Fanta, however, is pretty bright and I'm hoping, with my concern and support, will continue her education at least through grade 12.

As I was helping Fanta prepare for her science final, I came to the realization that my credentials here have no meaning. My time at a fairly reputable four year college, graduating with honors, etc and my job post-college with a public official mean absolutely nothing to those who now live around me. Even those who have completed their secondary schooling have no idea what any of the above means, but I realized, as Fanta struggled with the thought that an earthworm is considered a multi-cellular organism, that for the past five months, my so-called credentials have disappeared from my mind, and you know what...I like it.

At times it's as though I am a celebrity in my village---children yell Jaliika and say 'How are you?' to practice the only English phrase that their older siblings taught them. There are times, more often than not, that I wish I were invisible here. Villagers ask me for money (some jokingly, most seriously), my mothers tease me for not going to work with them in the rice fields, and I constantly get told that the 20L jug of water I carry on my head is too heavy, yet my 70 year old host mother carries a wash basin that holds the same capacity on her head several times a day. At times I'm treated as if I'm the wisest sage there is (when I actually have no clue) and other times I forget I'm 25, went to university, and had a job because by many here, my marital status, small stature, and 'baby face', I'm considered a little girl. (If I had lived here my whole live, I probably would have been married for seven years already and had at least three children by now.)

My degree, honors, and job don't matter here; the villagers don't care. How humbling it is when the 11 year old girl who pumps my water for me lifts the 20L jug on my head or my host mom shows me the art of pounding rice, that I still can't manage to do no matter how hard I try. Being here, I realized I've shed the attitude which accompanies many of my equals in the States. Here my status, on paper, is void of meaning, but perhaps I can now focuse on my credentials as a human being. Maybe my family will enable me to realize that the exchange of cultures, thoughts, experiences, provide more credentials than one could ever put on paper.

It's only been 5 months into my time here, and I'm already learning a lot about wisdom, perservance, patience, survival, happiness, and most of all, humility.

2 Month Challenge...DONE! 21Months to Go!

Two month challenge is over and I survived, only having suffered 1.5 bouts of self-diagnosed giardia.

Life in my permanent village is good. Admittedly, though, some days are better than others, but on the 'not-so-good' days, I try to remind myself that I got through the previous 'not-so-good' days, so why would today be any different?

My host family is great, and I definitely lucked out with my family. The family is HUGE, in that I have an elderly father, his three (3!!) wives, their respective children, and their children's children. Overall, the compound is chaotic, with lots of yelling, screaming, and children crying for long periods of time (that's what Gambian children do---they cry for about three minutes and then they fake cry for about ten more. (I've been known to time them on occasion.) Despite all the chaos, my family really loves to laugh, so I fit right in!!! (I guarantee you they spend A LOT of time laughing AT me, but not ALL their time.)

My language is coming along...slowly, slowly, and I'd like to hire a tutor in my village, but I can't seem to pick out the right person. My work has begun and my two months of trying to assess what projects to embark on in the next two years have passed. (Of course, there's always time to reassess). Some potential projects include: working with the local school's agriculture department to better fence their garden, teaching English and health classes at the school, starting women's literacy classes in my village, helping my village's nursery school, expanding my village's garden, revamping two women's gardens, and hopefully starting a children's arts club. I also go on trek with the area's health unit to assist with clinic days in the village. I usually help weigh babies and screen children for immunizations and malnutrition.

Overall, site is good and when I go away for a few days, I definitely miss my host family. Despite them being far from the 'typical American family', they do provide a definite family feel. One of my host brothers already talks of my leaving in two years, and we've already decided that it'll be bittersweet.

Note of Thanks:
To all of you have written me letters and/or sent packages...thanks so much!!! They all are appreciated and the letters still mean soooo much.

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

New Pics Posted!

Hey Everyone!

My two-month challenge has ended and I arrived in the Kombos last Friday. I'm posting pictures in piecemeal as the PC office is very crowded with many Volunteers. New blog entries will hopefully be posted within the next few days. In the meantime, check out my picture link for a few new pics!

Hope all is well and for all of you in the Philly area, celebrate the 4th of July in style in the City of Brotherly Love for me! Oh how I miss it!!!

Love you all and thanks for your thoughts!