What's at the End of the Rainbow?

A few days ago, my friend and I were walking to a car park, all the while trying to decide whether we should continue on to our destination despite a pending rainstorm. We decided to keep on going and figured that if we shower from buckets and go to the bathroom in a concrete hole, we could probably get soaked and deal with looking like drowned rats. It’s really not a big deal when you look at the big picture.

As we were walking, still kind of unsure about our decision, my friend noticed a huge, vivid rainbow above the Fajara War Cemetery. We stopped to take a picture because rainbows like this only seem to happen in Africa (I have vivid memories of the ones in Kenya). As we continued walking toward the car park, we noticed that the rainbow projected across the sky, with its end seemingly looking as if it were the Peace Corps office. However, after further observation and estimation, I decided that the end was actually, the American Embassy (note: you cannot see the Embassy in this picture as a photograph of it must be destroyed, but if you were imagine where the end of the rainbow would be, it’d be there).

My thought made me realize that the answer to my question ‘What’s at the end of the rainbow?’ is multi-dimensional. Personally, the thought of the U.S. Embassy as being the end of the rainbow to me, an American, living in this strange land that I temporarily call home, is rather overwhelming, yet comforting. It’s a place I walk by, every time I walk to my office/ As I pass, I think ‘America is right there.’ And it is…as soon as I step through the Embassy gates, I’m technically in the U.S. But, it’s just a building, where decisions on policies, aid, assistance, visas, and people’s lives are carried out. It’s powerful and humbling and chaotic and uncertain and bold and brave and sometimes intimidating...

But for many Gambians, the Embassy and with that, the idea of America---my refuge, my little piece of identity--- is hope, but also, sadly desperation for them. At least one person a day asks me to take them to America when I’m ready to home, or they want me to take their 8 month old baby back with me. Despite the daily annoyance of coming up with creative ways to respond to such statements (trust me…it’s difficult after a while), I realize that even though it’s annoying to me, it’s indicative of the desperation that envelops everyone here. They think of America as ‘Babylon’ (which oddly enough, think of what part of the world historic Babylon is today). They want to flee to Europe and America, and I understand why…I see it every day. But, if everyone leaves, then what’s left? More desperation, no hope, and a society that disappears into thin air.

Before I arrived in The Gambia, many of you know that I worked for a federal politician, handling constituents’ problems with Immigration Services and the State Department. I was exposed to people’s heartache, frustrations, and on some occasions, joys. To hear a person’s struggle, to make a better life for himself or his family, plays with your emotions. Each immigration case is different, but oddly enough, sings the same tune---seeking a better life, the desire to be with a loved one, escaping political persecution, fleeing a civil war…the situations are the same, but each story is a little different, which makes it all the more human.

Every time I get asked to take someone to America, I usually spit out a defiant ‘No!’. Then I realize that my reaction may have been a bit harsh (although in some cases, that’s not true). What I suppose causes me to react in the way that I do is the notion that people leaving isn’t the best solution. In many cases, those that leave and earn more money abroad (albeit their standard of living in their newfound country is still on the lowest rung, unless they are highly educated), they don’t necessarily return to help The Gambia or their home country. They send money. Money helps, most certainly, but it has no use if the allocation of that money is for a television and generator, but in a month’s time the family can’t purchase a bag of rice to feed its children.

I am not opposed to those leaving their lands to attain a better life, but I am disheartened that the notion of attaining a better life IS only by fleeing to a different land. Why is that? Is it because no one wants to work at a solution? Is there no feasible solution? Or is it because it’s the easiest way to get what they feel will make them happy? Is it worth it---risking one's life by crossing the ocean to Europe, in a boat made of planks, with extra fuel stored in 20 liter jugs, small food rations, and no protection from the elements? I honestly don't know.

Just as Julius Nyerere, former President of Tanzania said:

Man can only liberate himself or develop himself. He cannot be liberated or developed by another. For Man makes himself. It is his ability to act deliberately, for a self-determined purpose, which distinguishes him from the other animals. The expansion of his own consciousness, and therefore of his power over himself, his environment, and his society, must therefore ultimately be what we mean by development.

Should we encourage Gambians (and others) to continue to look for that U.Ss Embassy at the end of the proverbial rainbow, or should we try to work on reevaluating Gambians' value here, in their country, so that they can take ownership of their lives, families, and nation? Somehow I think it’s not only important to focus what’s at the end of the rainbow, but how we can improve the journey of getting there. And perhaps by doing so, they’ll be able to see that there’s a lot within the rainbow that’s worth their while and they don’t even have to travel too far to find it.

Catching Up

Even though I previously posted about missing America on its birthday, I still managed to have a memorable 4th of July weekend. Besides the obvious missing pieces (friends, family, and fireworks), we managed to have a fun-filled weekend of Americana.

Thanks to one of our (American) bosses hospitality in (always) hosting us at his house for American holidays, we had a nice backyard BBQ on the 4th, complete with a makeshift slip ‘n slide, lentil burgers (for all those hippie PC vegetarians), and my homemade macaroons (definitely a hit, not gonna lie). The day after the big boss’s BBQ, a several PCVs got together for a wickedly fun game of pick-up softball. Three hours or 15 fifteen innings later, the team I was playing on (and yes I played---remember, I was a 2nd base player and a decent hitter when I was 10 years old) won 41-40 (no that’s not a football score, honest). I left with really sore quads and the realization that I really need to incorporate sprinting into my running routine. The following day, my PCV friend, Ellie, and I, organized an Open-Mic Night for all PCVs that were in town at a friend’s outdoor garden bar. Despite my worries, the night was an absolute success and a fun time was had by all (or so we’re told).

This past week, I was co-facilitating the 1st year health Volunteers In-Service Training. I believe it’s been going fairly smoothly so far (it continues through next week), but admittedly after 1.5 weeks in the Kombos (urban area), I am suffering from a multitude of ‘symptoms’, such as being easily irritated when more than 5 PCVs are in the same room as me, annoyed when taxi drivers try to pick me up while I’m walking in the opposite direction to which they’re driving, and just suffering from general restlessness of being ‘connected’ to American life, but not actually being there.

Despite my fun (and slight frustration) in Kombo, it’ll be fun to return to site next weekend as there is plenty to be done---rainy season has started and people are planting (have planted) their rice, millet, groundnuts and corn. The mosquitoes are breeding, and therefore, so is the malaria. And I realize this is my last rainy season, so I better buckle down and do all that I want while I can.

The village’s women’s gardens revitalization project is progressing, albeit slowly. Because of my schedule and the farmers’ necessity to sow their fields based on the arrival of the rains, the work on the garden has been delayed a bit. However, in all honesty, it’s better that way, as long as the

fence is completed by the end of August. Once completed, the women will be able to utilize it post-rainy season, which, admittedly, is the better time to actually sow certain vegetables. Posted are pictures depicting the miraculous (and certainly ridiculous)

transportation of 47 bundles of chicken wire and 60 kilos of nails 300 kms up-country, on a ferry, in a vehicle, across another ferry, and in a tractor-like vehicle from my friend’s hardware store (my version

of the Home Depot) to my village on a water-filled,

pothole-riddled road during a high wind, flooding rain storm. Just another day in The Gambia… Thanks again for all your support.

Churro Time

In an attempt to make you laugh (or perhaps just grin), I decided that I would upload this video so you can see AND hear the delight that is the children of my compound. These two just happen to be the funniest kids under the age of 5.

Paabi (boy) and Mero (girl) are eating their 5:30pm snack of rice and peanut porridge (typically what we have for breakfast). And Paabi epitomizes the 'art of slurping' churro (or anything liquidy) and the noise one must make when 'drinking' from the calabash.

Missing America on Its Birthday

Hello Everyone-

It's been quite sometime since the last posting, and quite a bit has happened in these almost 2 months (wow, two months...time is flying.) Tomorrow is 4th of July and I'm in West Africa---not in Philly. Sometimes, I think I feel even more homesick, or maybe reminiscent, at this time of year than I do during the Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays. For all of you in the Philly area, or in the great outdoors somewhere this weekend, please know I'm thinking of you. Enjoy the fireworks and think of me when the cascading gold ones fall into the Delaware.

In the next few weeks, I'll be posting a few things about my thoughts on development (I've been doing a lot of thinking and actual 'working' these past months). Some postings may be not as jovial as usual, but don't think that that is my attitude now. The comments, thoughts, ideas are just raw conclusions that one forms after living and working in 'development' for over a year. I'm happy here, and I'm enjoying myself while I can and trying not to look too far ahead, although it's starting to freak me out about what my next step will be.

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Musings from a late rainy night sometime during the week of June 22nd:

So many thoughts going through my mind as of late. The first thought is about home: I think about home all the time. Today, I was riding to a friend's house, 15 km away, and I realized when I was on kilometer 12 that I rode the entire way, thinking about 'America'. Now granted, I ride on a road that takes me to where I want to go as there are only 2 paved roads up-country. There is one junction where I must turn to get to the river crossing (where my friend lives). I traveled the entire way without even thinking about where I was going---on kilometer 12, I realized that this is place is just like home, in the sense that I do daily activities, mindlessly...just like traveling to the grocery store in America, without even thinking twice about putting on my right turn signal, and then my left, and stopping at the stop sign. I am here and I am living in the now.

My time here is fleeting and so I become somewhat bothered on those days when I become preoccupied with thoughts of home. (Of course, I love home and would teleport there everyday if I could), but I want to focus on the now. Focus. On. The Now. For the most part I do, and I have. But lately I just can't stop thinking of 'that place' where things are organized, simple tasks take little time, and people respect each other, their property, and rules. Maybe these thoughts have been conjured up by the change in weather. The rains have started and that immediately transports me to rainy days at home. The smell of honeysuckle (or something similar) as I pass by the monkeys while riding my bike reminds me of my 30 mile bike rides on the D & R canal.

Lately, I've been thinking about what life will be like post Peace Corps. I'm already anticipating experiencing some difficulties readjusting (to all of you out there, let this be your first gentle warning). But, I'm finally realizing that for the first time in my life, I haven't a clue as to what I want to do after Peace Corps. I've always had direction, and that direction has led me here, doing something I've always wanted to do. But my view of the world has shifted a bit. I still remain fairly idealistic and hopeful that things could change, albeit slowly, but a part of me adheres tightly now to the notion of what doesn't work.

'Development' is a tricky thing to discuss as part of me wonders, why, after all these years...are we still trying to get basic needs fulfilled for millions of people in the world? Shouldn't we find that appalling? Unacceptable? Disheartening and even depressing? I'm a first year Volunteer at my site and quite honestly, I've tried my best to go slowly... to assess what the community needs and wants and that they already have. 'Development', in my opinion, sometimes skips over this key step. Many Volunteers (both PC and non-PC) come to the developing world, thinking they're going to make radical, life-improving, and in some cases, life-saving changes in villages and communities. However, they're fooling themselves, giving false hope to villagers, and feeding culture that has become accustomed to receiving and taking.

If I were to ever head an NGO (non-governmental organization) or an international aid organization (in my dream world), I'd require it's non HCNs (home country nationals) to live for a least one year in actual village or community before they could do any development work. People can be appropriately helped if only they first are properly assessed. It's like going to the doctor in the States...if he doesn't give you a thorough exam, asking you your symptoms, their duration, medications, stresses, etc, then he could potentially misdiagnose your condition. You don't improve, get sicker, and before you know it, it's too late and all the efforts by the doctor were in vain. If only he had asked the right questions before giving you medication that had horrific side effects with another medication you were already taken. This type of 'haphazard assessment' happens, more often than not, in development. And as a result, failure after failure of development projects get added to the list. Aid agencies (not all, though) don't ask the right questions, observe, or even make an effort to understand the culture first. What worked in Kenya may not necessarily here? What worked in one village, may not work in the other. One can't ignore social structure, cultural norms, or political issues in order to just add another 'project' to the list.

Cultural integration is not taken seriously, but I feel it is the most important. Those who bypass it, have a total disregard, and therefore, an utter lack of respect for the people of that country. It is no better than ignorance.

Here money is a problem, which is what is said to me at least once daily. And many people ask me (and pretty much any other white person) to give them money or they ask 'Where is the money?' My usual reply is, 'I don't know...you tell me.' My initial reaction is to slap the person across the face, but deep down, I want to scream 'Money is not the answer.' Everyone needs money and they're preoccupied with it when they don't have it and again when they do (Human nature at its best, I suppose. It happens in the States, too...and probably even moreso when people do have money.)

There is money being poured into this and other countries, but it's not always used properly or appropriately. And that's where the problem lies---with the givers and the receivers. There is a lack of research by the donors and their dependency of 'giving because it feels good' . These actions only create a dependency on part of the recipients, as they receive something they say they want, or even in many cases, things they don't want OR need, and nothing ever becomes sustainable. Dependency continues to be encouraged by both sides and progress remains only short-term, or worse, non-existent.

Development should be based on what 'they' want, but more importantly, what they need and what they can use appropriately, according to their culture and their strengths as individuals and communities. Assessments should be based on interviews, observations, and being integrated with the community. Where their ideas and the development worker's knowledge and skills meet, then that's when and where development...slowly, slowly...can begin, or in rare cases, continue.