And the cold season has come

>>Happy Thanksgiving All! I am so thankful for all the love and support I receive from my family and friends back home. Without you, my life here would not as sane as it is now.

I think I mentioned that I was going to be teaching a little at the school at my village. At first it was just for Grade 6. I found out a few weeks before I started at the school that my youngest host sister—Grade 6, age 12-Fatou—could not read. This is a major problem if she is going to ‘middle’ school next year where everyone is expected to speak and read English. So after talking to her teacher, we came up with the plan of doing a joint after school study class. The teacher-Mr. Kieta-talked to the school’s Headmaster, and then talked to all of the student’s parents to get approval. (Usually when the kids are done with school for the day they do chores or just play). Before I had fully assessed at what level the kids were at, I just started with the basics = ‘Raise your hand if you know what sound the letter A makes?” Most of the kids got the easy ones, but when it came to Q,W, I, E, and etc, no one knew. I had them write in their notebooks “A is for Ant” and then draw a picture of an ant. Etc etc. We did like 8 of these each day, then played the Whisper Game = kids break into teams, sit side by side, I tell the first person in line a sentence, and then each kids whispers to her/her classmate to the left.…usually the sentence gets messed up somehow in translation/transition. I had them say ‘The ant is in the tree’ for the letters A and T, for example. We did this through to whole alphabet, and then started with compound letters: Th, Br, Sh, Bl, etc. I can only do this job after school when I am not working on my other jobs, so sometimes I only teach for two hours once a week. I am not a teacher by trade, and I told myself when I applied to the Peace Corps that I did not want to teach English for two years, but I feel that this is one of few ways to ‘get to’ the younger generation here. After a month of this, the Grade 5 teacher straight up asked me “So Lamin, why are you only teaching Grade 6, my Grade 5 could use some teaching as well?” I didn’t like this approached but agreed to help out with Grade 5 anyway. So sad when these students are pushed from grade to grade without learning much; I can point the fingers toward many factors of why the education system here flawed. Overall the teaching is going well.

The past few weeks I was assisting my village nurse-Modu Saine-with two campaigns: the giving of deworming medication to all school ages students to all the schools in our area, and then another campaign to do give Vitamin A and deworming medication to kids (not going to school) above the age of 6 months to under age five. Overall the kids did not like this, and since there were children at these remote villages that I have never seen before, a lot were scared by the white guy; understandable because white folk are not very common at all in these neck-of-the-woods. And the medication did not taste good, they said 'leki ma na welani' = your medicine is not sweet. These campaigns were funded by WFP and UNICEF, I believe. At times we had to lie to the children and tell them it was 'minties' (candy) but after one kid at it and then spit it out and started to cry, the jig was up and they were all afraid now.

Now that the rains have ceased, it is time to harvest. To harvest the coos depended on the grower and when the grower planted to seeds to when he/she would/must harvest. But the groundnuts (peanuts) were mostly harvested at the same time by everyone. People would gather up all of the groundnuts into big mounds. The groundnuts are the same as we have in America, peanuts, and are then gathered in rice bags and sold. This, from what I can gather, is my villages main source of income, which only comes once a year. I am told that buyers will come soon and buy the bags of groundnuts. There is a storage building that I guess they work out of when they come. Hopefully they do not rip off my village, their own people. I don’t help with harvest; I have too many meetings and campaigns to help in the field. The men, as well as the women, go out early in the morning, come back in the late morning to rest and eat, and then they may go back out again. It’s back breaking work; they always tell me ‘the work is too much’ and ‘my body has pain. (‘ligge ko hewi’ and ‘bandu ma fof hebi mussa’ respectively in pulaar).

And on the note that the rains have finished, now it is the cold season. Therefore, I wake up from a malaria medicine induced dream to having goose-bumps and being cold. Its at that point that I must cover myself with a sheet and fall back asleep before a rooster jumps on my thatched roof and starts to cry out his territory. Oddest thing, really, being cold in Africa. But cold here is hot where I come from in the states--Seattle. I tell the villagers that the coldest it gets here, is the hottest it gets where I come from (those of you know what that temp is--bout 90F--at most)...and they don't believe me...even if I say 'in the name of God almighty' in Arabic, its tough for them to believe. me. I hear the coldness will stay with us until Feb., and then it will started getting hot again. Now, it's only cold in the wee hours of the a.m., then at 11am you can feel it getting warmer, one starts to sweat. In all honesty, I have no clue what the actual temp here is at times, I just guess. My body has acclimated to the intense heat, and my med-kit thermometer only goes up so far.

I spent Thanksgiving with friends here. One of our American administrators hosted all the volunteers to come to his house and cook a big and fantastic meal. It was nice to be able to eat turkey and mash potatoes even if we were not at home. Yet, it could never compare with being with family during Thanksgiving, and the turkey was not as good as my mother’s. This was my first major holiday away from home, but there will be another year of missed holidays before I come back. I knew this part of my service would be the worst; I knew that being here during this time of year would make me reflect what I left behind back home more. Family is big here as well; when we have Koriteh and Tobasky (major Muslim holidays), everyone goes home to visit family and not work really gets done for like a week. So I think they’d understood why I’d be away with other PC friends or sad around these times here. Most volunteers received phone calls from loved ones back home, thus the international phone lines were all busy and clogged. My family was one of the unfortunate ones to not get threw, but I know they tried and tried to call. All of you back home reading this, know I was with you in spirit during your turkey dinner. This year I am thankful for all of you, reading this now, and for your support (I really cannot stress that enough)

Yesterday was an All Volunteer (All Vol) meeting, where all PCV came to the capital area. The date was fitting, right after Thanksgiving. We all met as a big group (about 100 volunteers), and then in separate sectors. It was good to see everyone, and to get everyone together for an event like this. Crazy how many volunteers we have in this small of a country. The meeting was only one day, and now we are all dispersing back to site. Today is National Cleaning Day, always the last Saturday of the month, so to travel farther then the Kombo area is nearly impossible. The roads will be closed from 11am-1pm, and all/most the businesses close and the employees clean the environment and the roads.

Still Playing 'Save the World"

So Ramadan was good. I fasted for a total of 20 days-ish, while the entirety of it was like 31 days. I figured I’d fast to be more accepted into the culture, also it would be being asked if I was fast, saying ‘no’, and then having them ask me why. I thought fasting would just make the whole thing easy on all of us, right? No. So I was asked if I was fasting…I said ‘yes’, expecting that the conversation would turn positive and/or end…no. Then I was asked “are you praying”, I would say “no”, then they ask “why”, I say “because I am Christian”…and then they laugh and say to fast and not pray is pointless and doesn’t make any sense. Give me a break, I am trying my best to integrate. I guess it goes with religious intolerance, in general and with most big religions, that are told to get others to convert and/or show other ‘non-believers’ that their religion is the ‘correct’ one. I just had to smile and go with it, nothing much I can do without getting totally frustrated with the whole situation. I was healthy the entire time I was fasting, but really really tired after a long bike ride for meetings and such. The day that Ramadan ended is called Koriteh, which is based upon if people can see the new moon the night before. So I was in Basse the night before, and I saw no moon. But people in Kombo, and Dakar, and Mali sad they saw the moon. I don’t get it, how can a few people ‘see’ the moon and the rest cannot? I guess what happens is people in Mecca that see the moon call governments in West Africa and tell people that Koriteh (day of prayer) is the following day. So on Koriteh, we prayed = ate ALL day! Oh man it was amazing. People were laughing and playing music and dancing. People say here that a hungry man is an angry man, which is true because when we all ate, we were all overjoyed!
FYI I posted some more pictures on my Picasa account, so go to the ‘pic’ link from a few postings ago and you can view ‘em. I haven’t been able to take very many pictures with my camera due to the fact that I fried my AA battery charger and the batteries I can buy in my village wont ever turn on my camera. But now I have a charger so hope to take more soon!
During Ramadan not much work happened, due to the fact that no one had to energy to do much of anything. Then the month after Ramada, people were recouping from fasting for so long. I wanted to make sure that all the moms went to clinic to make sure their children were all still ‘healthy’ and not too much under weight. I attempted to tell pregnant mothers not to fast because the Koran states that then can opt to eat for the sake of their unborn child but they have to make up for the missed fasting days after the birth. But people like eating, even in The Gambia, and to fast while others are eating freely at a later day is difficult and ‘not sweet’ as they say here. So thus I could not sway any mothers. So yeah, during the recouping stage after Ramadan, I felt like my “getting to fully understand my place/job here” fall to the curb. I didn’t know what to do. There has been, since I swore it and was at site, an ongoing battle in my head, involving questions. These questions will run around in my brain throughout the day. Questions such as: How is my language skills? Should they be better? Am I working hard enough? Should I be out chatting/socializing more? Why I am here? I am really making a difference? I am wasting my time? Should I be doing the same kinda work as other volunteers? Etc. It’s a constant battle in my head, everyday. Some days are better then others. One thing I have to get myself to do is to become content with being content with my service here, and fully coming to grips with the fact that development work, especially in West Africa, is slow and that I will not see the benefits of my work…because it will most likely affect future generations.
This past week the Community Drive Development Project had another round of meetings, the first in like 2 months. So I was busy showing my face there. The committee I am working with oversee four villages in the area, but I only see two due to the traveling distance. I am still trying to figure out my place with this project. The meeting with these two specific villages are spoken in Mandinka and Wollof, but there usually a few Fulas around to talk to. (I guess overall I am still trying to find myself here, and what I am (supposed)to be doing.) The villagers figured out how much money they get to work with on their projects and were overjoyed (about $12,000 USD each). Attempting to say the big numbers converted into dalasi (D350,000) was difficult for even native speakers; when the languages were developed many many moons ago I’m not sure they had a need for big numbers like that. So the four villages now have selected problem areas within their village, and how to put the money towards solving those issue- -sense most of their problems stem more lack of funds. I hope this project is sustainable.
I recently figured out that my 12 year old host sister, Fatou, who is in grade 6 cannot read. This is most likely her fault for, as they say, ‘not serious’ and ‘foolish/not wise, and not her fault for being the youngest child and the fault of the school system here. I have spoken with her teacher at the local school in my village and he says that many of his students are at the same level as she. He wants to keep this students after school to make them study and do their assignments. The students after school will play up until, mostly for the girls, it is core time. So I have been asked to help with this after school program. I told the teacher that I am not a teacher by trade but can assist where I can. During the evenings, after dinner, my sisters will come to my house because I can a table and a candle and they study…well Mariama (age 17 grade 9) studies while Fatou wants to color and not study. Other kids come to my house to study as well; I have a chalk board and chalk and we got over math problems and how to spell specific words. We have little study nights, its fun. I make juice for them and/or give them candy for studying hard. Students can only come if they are to study, no fooling around because that will distract other students, it’s a rule. Its good to see students eager to learn, especially for the boys who have to pay full price for their schooling.
So either then that life is going well. I am still getting AMAZING packages from people. My ongoing support system is still grand!!! I am still living day by day, still playing ‘save the world’. My host sister’s goat had a baby and she gave it to me, so now I have a goat. I named him TJ. Yes has a goat. Fatou found the black finger polish sent from home and she painted my left hand fingernails…so that’s interesting. Not sure what else to write here….maybe I’ll think of some more later before I go back to site. I love and miss you all. Cheers!
ps- wish list is current. :)

Dakar Streets

Dakar
(mostly straight from my journal) Eugene, Steven, Alex and I, along with two med-students that Steve met at his hospital, went to Dakar Sept 21. I thought I brought enough identification but I was wrong, I’ll explain. PC The Gambia and PC Senegal have a good relationship. With our PC ID cards, we can, in theory, cross over with only these ID cards and have it be no problem. Thus, I didn’t bring my passport. So we get all the way to the border and the Senegalese border patrol wont let me pass. So I got on the phone and called my Country Director (on a Sunday) and he helped me out. He got my PC Passport from the office and had a PC employee drive it to the Banjul-side ferry. So Alex and I had to pay a taxi to go all the way back to Barra from the border to retrieve my passport, and go all the way back. We crossed and on our way we went.
Got to Dakar a 5pm and were supposed to meet the personal driver of a family Steve knows in Dakar (the personal driver should give you a hint that this family has some money). We met him at the carpark and followed the drive in another taxi to the house. The house was more like a one bedroom apt, on the top floor of a 5-story apt building. Very nice compared to what we are all used to. We were so tired we just showered and crashed. Funny how the family only spoke French and Wollof, but luckily Eugene was trained to speak Wollof, and the two med students traveling with us are from Holland and spoke enough French to get us by.
The next morning we told our host we wanted to see downtown. After walking around on the water front/ beach road we found downtown and stopped for coffee and breakfast. (You see we’re in Dakar, we should be able to enjoy sitting down at a small café for a coffee, right…BUT they were so hard to find, believe it or not. I know!) Alex went outside right after we ordered from the menu and by luck met up with a Senegalese PCV. turns out he’s been working here from two years and is on his last few days in country. He agreed to show us around the city! We went to an annex building of the US Embassy to show us what he was currently working on before he bounced out—and agfo video in French. Pretty sweet. Visited a market—which was much more organized than any vendors market in The Gambia. Dakar, overall and as a whole, was MUCH more developed than any part of The Gambia; big(ger) and much more organized. There are actual streets and sidewalks---who would have thought. We stopped and got ice cream…like a shop just like 31 Flavors…and oh god was it good! Real ice cream for once…something cold and tasty!! WOW. I went to the bank next to take out some $ from the ATM because I wasted so much money traveling to get my passport, but the ATM ate my card AND the bank was closed…so we had to come back tomorrow. Went to dinner at an institutional park thing, very cultural. Afterwards went to a hotel that has a bar, which has a happy hour that PC’s go to often. We met other Senegalese volunteers there, nice to talk with them. Also met a fellow American that just flew in to Dakar on a whim to do community development work, kinda random to meet up with her.
The following day, after going to the bank to get my atm card, we want to go to a private-reserve island that is right off the coast of Dakar. After going to the market to get lunch-type food, we went to the beach to get a boat to go there. On the island was just us and the ‘tour guide’, which was basically a man to make sure we didn’t get into much trouble. The island has its own private lagoon, and big hills to walk up and view the sites. We went swimming and got sunburned and just relaxed. I ate watermelon on a beach in West Africa, that’s hard to beat my friends. After getting back to the main land we walked back to happy hour for a few drinks again. I felt so dirty from not showering prior but I am used to being dirty back at site. But after a beer on an empty stomach all was well. That night we had Korean food, which was a nice change of pace.
Next day we decided to split up from the girls and we each do our own thing. So we walked across down to the beach.. (part of the day I cannot put in this blog, but it was all legal). Found a small café for lunch, then I got lost trying to find another bank. When we regrouped we found dinner, met another Senegalese PCV and his visiting brother (you can always tell when you see another white person within a sea of non-white people…and then from there you can tell if the person is a tourist or a PCV because PC are usually dirty and can speak the local language, it’s a subtle rule we go by). Dinner was Lebanese.
Overall the Dakar trip was wonderful but kinda hard to go back to site after stay is such Westernized conditions for a few days…it puts things into perspective.

So, we don't have this in The Gambia.

So, this is a part of a sidewalk that vendors can sell things. I turned on my video camera and just walked with the camera at my waist..so sorry for the bumpy ride. If you listen closely you can hear vendors calling us to buy things and asking us annoying questions (ie: "What is your name"). This is common, in both Senegal and The Gambia.

Living the Dream

So been gone for a month or so from internet, AC, and cold water. Came into the Kombos this past Saturday for supplies, maybe get my Razor phone from home working, and for a birthday for a lady in my group. Nice to be back in the city but already I want to go back to my village to get back to the ‘routine’, Its funny, you know when you travel for vacation and your body isn’t quite right; you don’t sleep in the same bed, eat the same foods, and do the regular things? Thus you don’t feel all there. That is what I feel like when I travel to Kombo, my body is all out of wack. Which means that I’m “at home” at my village, in my mud hut, eating out of the family food bowl. I guess one can say that this is a good thing, right? Ha.
First off, wanted to apologize if I offended anyone with my last blog post (the part at the end). At times throughout my stay here, I’ll most likely get negative, feel like “why am I here”, and maybe write an email or two and post a blog about my feelings. Just fyi. I’ll have my moments, just got with it. So sorry if you were troubled by my last post, just understand where it came from.
So a few guys from my group (whenever I refer to ‘groups’ or ‘my group’ is the people we met in DC at staging before coming to The Gambia. We came here at the same time, and are in the same sector.) are planning a ‘guys weekend’ and going to Dakar at the end of this month. One of the guys is flying home for a few weeks and wants some company. He flies out of Dakar, Senegal some time at the end of Sept. In Senegal, people speak French and Wolof. If one doesn't speak those, you're kinda out of luck. So the idea was formed to have a 'guys weekend' so to speak and travel with most/all of the remaining guys in my group, since one of the guys speaks Wolof. Should be a good time, excited to actually visit Dakar, I hear its much more developed than Banjul...with actual roads and Ben 'n Jerrys and whatnot.
Yesterday, marks the start of Ramadan, one major Islamic holidays. It goes on for the entire month. Apparently people wake up before dawn and eat bread, drink tea, go back to bed. Throughout the day there is no eating and no drinking: fasting. At night we feast. So, I'm obviously not Muslim, but I feel the need to attempt to fast (I know Mom, I know). I think I may sneak into my house and have some water and some snacks but I feel the society would respect me a little bit more if I at least attempt to fast. I think my host mother has already told me she'll make me little meals for each day. But I may tell her to not. In my opinion, fasting is one of the "safest" (compared to drugs or other dangerous activities) ways to enlightenment. I know of many faiths, including Christianity, who fast at times. It should be interesting, and possibly fun!
It has been raining here on and off for about month and a half. After I got back from IST I started to attempt to teach people how to make neem cream; the locally and cheaply made mosquito repellent. Neem is widely use in America for many things (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neem) and is very common is this area of West Africa. In the past few years, PC has gotten a hold of recipe to use the neem to make a repellent. I’ve demonstrated the procedure at the clinics I attend, for my host family, and a village I’m working with on a community development project. The cream has three ingredients: neem leaves, soap, and regular cook oil. The procedure is as followed for all of you who are curious. Take one liter of neem leaves and boil them in liter and a half of water. While the water is boiling, take a bucket or large bowl and cut two bars of soap into small pieces. When the boiling water reaches a nice green color, pour the water (only) into the bucket/bowl with the soap and stir fast. Be careful not to burn yourself! After the soap dissolves, add one cup of cook oil. Keep stirring for a bit and leave set. It will take a bit for the cream to cool. Its finished. I tell people to wash, pray, and then put on the cream. It actually works very well. A few villages think I am a god, I swear. In fula I call the cream ‘leki bowdi’—medicine/tree mosquito. I have demonstrated this technique at the clinics with a fellow PCV who is in the same sector but has been here for a year plus. He’s the neem cream guru here currently, maybe I’ll pick up the title when he leaves in 7 months (at that point I’ll be the old one here, wow time flies! Eek). The particular volunteer helped me with the demo, as well as my job at the clinics: weighing babies and checking their health cards. He speaks wolof, and the villages we went to speak Mandinka and Fula. But we found a few Wolofs for him to converse him. With him being there, it kina forced me to attempt to tell the mothers that their child(ren) are under weight and need to eat more nutritious food. There is a specific tree that is grown here is it’s leave are jammed packed with vitamins and minerals: moringa (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moringa). I think I got the point across to a few mother’s but I’m still working on my Fula. Maybe I’ll have the nurse in my village help me with a few medical phrases.
Either than that, just living day by day. I got a bookshelf finally so now I can get organized and FINALLY not feel like living out of a suitcase (this took 7 months but so it goes). Here you learn to ‘just go with the flow’ of life. Smile and shrug with people ask you for money, a visa to the US, or when young boys ask you to buy them a soccer ball. The plan is to go back village tomorrow. No crazy stories that I can remember

From the Bush to your computer screen!

July 8th- Hello to all at home. I trust your 4th was fantastic. Mine was spent traveling. On the 3rd I met a fellow PCV (who lives near Basse) in Bansang, and together we traveled to Kerewan to stay w/ another PCV. The following day (the 4th) we got a free ride to our PC hostel in Kombo. We could have traveled one day to get to Kombo but that would have taken the entire day and our bodies would be mush by the time we got there…so making the travel in two days makes is less stressful. I have come into Kombo for a few reasons: 1) there are new PCTs here who are for the Education sector…so I wanted to meet them because I know what its like to be the frosh-rookie and I want to make them feel welcome. 2) I have an In Service Training that runs from July 8-17th-ish…where I’ll get more training on how “to be a more successful volunteer”. 3) The US Embassy here has a little bank account for funding for community projects. The Headmaster at the school in my village got a hold of the form to request funding and I am responsible to turn in this form. The funding is for a brick fence that will encompass the school’s campus and three gates with locks. The school will have 1 new school building and 2 new teachers quarters finished w/in months, inshallah (if god wills it). Thus a new fence would finish off the schools new additions nicely. And, a gated compound will hinder animals to enter the schools campus and wind cannot blow in trash = a cleaner compound for children to learn. And it will make theft from the school less likely. 4) Buy supplies, get $ from bank, type a blog for you all to read, and have a cold one.

I have received a generous amount of letters and many packages which is all greatly appreciated and a loving gesture. It’s amazing how much support I have back home. In the letters/notes I’ve gotten, a few questions come up more than once…which is perfect so now I know what to type on these blogs. All boxes that I knew were en route have come, in one piece and not open on purpose from theft or inspection (one box had a rip in the corner though). Sending tuna and also protein powder is much appreciated. Also, sending any magazines my way that you feel would interest me would be awesome. Basically, any and everything I receive in the mail just shows how much support I have back home…which is vital to know when I have my bad days/moments. My fan club keeps me going. My village (which most of you know where that is by now) is a fula village--which people speak Pulaar-but ¼ of the population there is Mandinka--who speak Mandinka. So, I was trained in Pulaar…but I am forced to learn the greetings (at least) in Mandinka…I can also respond to being asked my name and where I’m from. Fulas will learn/speak other native languages (ie: Mandinka and/or Wollof), but in my personal experience…Mandinkas wont budge and wont speak other languages. Which makes it tough when I greet some people in my village (and the response normally to the greeting is ‘jam tan’) but the person I’m greeting just stands there and looks at me like I spoke German to them…it can get frustrating. So, I turns out that I’m now learning two languages. Here in The Gambia there are 3 major languages spoken (Wollof, Mandinka, and Pulaar) and 3 minor ones (Serehula, Jola, and Jahanka- -if I remember correctly). AND different regions of West Africa AND different regions of The Gambia may have different dialects of specific languages listed above. Luckily the dialect difference from what I was trained in wasn’t too much different from what my village speaks. (There are hundreds of dialects of Pulaar) No need to send over bug repellent. I will be conducting a community meeting when I get back from Kombo on how to make a local mosquito repellent (which is cheap and easy to make) and I should be seen putting on this cream to set the example. The lotion itself works fairly well so no worries. I’ve received a few questions about if the music on my ipod is being over played and ‘getting old’,and if there is any way for people back home—if they send music cds—for me to be able to play the music. I have found a way to put music from a cd on my ipod…I actually stole a bunch of music from other PVCs. THUS, send over any new music you think I would like. Speaking of music, the only type of music I had in my little hut at village was the radio and my headphones hooked up to my ipod. Well, radio is used from the BBC, and putting on headphones can only be done at specific times…because then you cannot hear one name being called or something going on near my compound when headphones are blasting ‘Karma Police’. Basically, I was going crazy with having no music. The last time I was in Kombo I vowed to myself that I must find small speakers for my ipod…for some background music when I’m writing in my journal or making coffee in the morning. I found small speakers but they take 4 AAA batteries. The ‘having ‘em take batteries’ is a bummer but I have my music. I’ve always said that my music is my savior…and is really is here….to hear something familiar, something you can jam out to, something you can sing along to now and then later on (because only a small population of people in my area speak English), something to drown out the chickens crowing and donkeys braying and children yelling. I am a little less crazy with my newly purchases speakers. (I hope this isn’t a repeat of anything I’ve posted on here before).

So my three month challenge is up…so now I’ve proved to myself and my bosses that I can live at site and have no worries (yet). With the new PCTs here, I am no longer the ‘newbie’ in the PC community…and that feels pretty good. Its been 5 months folks—only 22 more months to go. The days go by slow but the weeks go by fast…which is a plus.
July 19- I stopped writing before because I couldn’t figure out what else to type. My In Service Training (IST) is finished, and I plan to travel back with some friends tomorrow morning. We have to leave very early if we want to make it back to site in one day. Plus I need to stop in Bansang to pick up some gifts for my family and my new bike! (When I started trained as a PCT, I got a ‘training bike’- -which is a Trek bike but is a few years old and hammered. My group was supposed to get brand new bikes right after we swore-in but the shipment was late. So finally, after being a volunteer for 3 months, I have a new bike. For folks back home who knew my bikes…my new bike is very comparable to my mountain bike back home (I miss my bikes, single tear L) ) So the entire day of travel will be costly and long…but it happens. As they say here, ‘it’s not easy’.
During IST we learned about community assessment, grant writing and where to find funding, met the rep for the World Food Program for The Gambia, etc. Lots of info and now I feel better prepared to be a PCV; and I have many new ideas for my community.

When I was in training, I was thinking of how I could transport items via my bike. The bikes come with a platform that is just above the back tire but that can only hold so much. I thought about how to make a bike trailer. I could buy one online from REI.com and have it shipped over but it would most likely be hammered w/in a month here and then I’d be out of luck. And it would have shown that the toubab (white person/stranger) has too much money- -a topic I’ve discussed before. So, I thought about hiring a local welder (yes, welding does happen near my village, in Bansang) to piece together a metal frame for a trailer. But then I’d probably have to pay a lot and it would be very heavy. Plus, if I had made a trailer and people in my community liked the it, they couldn’t copy the idea because they most likely afford to do so = isn’t helping. So I was determined to find a way to make a bike trailer made from local materials. I researched online and sure enough I found instructions on how to make a bike trailer from BAMBOO! “But where is Travis going to find bamboo, he’s in Africa not Asia?” you all are asking yourselves as you read this. There is a compound in my village that has a bamboo tree in their backyard, and I am friends with one of the young woman in the compound (I make sure her 6 month old son is healthy), and I hope to get some saplings from her. I want to start growing bamboo, lots of bamboo, in my village/area. I had a meeting with the director from the Agfo-sector in the PC office and he told me that few PCVs have attempted bamboo growing. He felt it would be a good idea, and was an untapped resource in this country. Bamboo does and can grow here; you just have to water it during the dry season. Gambians living in the middle-north region of the country make bamboo beds and furniture but I think all of that bamboo is imported. For the trailer, I need two bike wheels, some nuts and bolts, and sheet metal…all of which I think I can find in Bansang or Basse (there is a thrift store in Basse- -a man fills a huge container with stuff from Holland and ships it here to sell…in the shipments are bikes that were taken from a University campus that no one claimed…I think I can find tires there). SO, if my plan goes well…I can make a trailer out of local materials at a cheap cost, thus others who are interested can follow. This will be beneficial for people (if they copy my idea) in my area because: it will cut down on cost to bring supplies from the main road to the village, one can make the trailers and sell them (micro-enterprise!!!), and possibly this may be solution on transporting people quickly in an emergency, for healthy reasons, to the main road (by making a trailer fit for transporting a person). There are many possibilities with this idea; I just hope people are receptive.
During my stay here in Kombo, I received a random phone call from the PCV who was in my village prior to me. He said had come back to The Gambia to visit and found out there was another PCV in the village he was in and wanted to meet me. We arranged to meet in Kombo; the meeting was brief but good. The village we both stay(ed) in speaks highly of him, so it was good to put a face to all the stories. I hope to keep in contact with him during my stay here.
I trust many of you have seen my random pictures and videos I’ve posted online. Hope there is no troubles with that, and if there is, please let me know. I’ve always has a small interest in photography but when it boils down to it, I’m just too lazy to take many photos. So, I’ll do what I can to take pics and post them in a timely fashion. There is currently no internet that I know of up-country...and I have no idea when I’ll make it down to Kombo again…so it may be a while before I post anything more on this blog.

Many of you ask about how the language is going, and I respond “it’s going” or “I do what I can”. I recently had another language test, score: Intermediate High (one level above from 3 months ago). So, its coming. I find myself understanding more of what people are telling me but I just can’t respond. My hut is disorganized…I get a bookshelf this weekend (I hope, inshallah)…so then I can put away books and what-not and then feel organized enough to study my language more.
I was recently asked “at this point in time do you think [I] made the right decision in joining [the Peace Corps]?”. I responded in saying it was the best choice out 2 I had in front of me (after being rejected from grad school). In all reality, I’m living my dream: living/integrating into a foreign culture AND helping others in need. But does this really make me happy? The two above dreams sound good on paper, but when you are actually doing them in a “Third World Country”…it’s a different story. Development work is very time consuming; much patience is require, the whole process and/or when visible progress can be seen could take decades. Undoing years upon years of “fill-in-the-blank-here” seems to be going nowhere…and I think this is pretty much universal aspect that all PCVs will find out. Would I be happier anywhere else right now? Sure! I’d love to be in Lake Stevens with my family…out at the local pub for a brew with friends…eating Taco Bell and meat everyday. But then again…I don’t thing that the basic American life isn’t/wasn’t for me…and I feel that many of the people who know me best (including my parents) would agree to that. I’m not saying that what the average American does on a daily basis isn’t justified, it just not something I wanted to dive into yet. I’m not biding my time…I having the best experience of my life and will use this experience to better myself and other around me until I leave this earth. So did I make the right choice in joining the Peace Corps, I say yes…but I’ll leave that up to you all to answer and you can judge for yourself. I’m sure I’ll be a changed man when I return. Hope this answers the question.
I would not be here if it wasn’t for my support group back home… I love you all!! If you want to try to help in the work that I’m doing…donate funds to UNICEF, Peace Corps, and/or World Food Program. Also, drive less (or better yet sell your car), eat local foods (or better yet grow your own garden), and stay informed about global issues. The world is changing, here and now, and it will be written in the history books; it is up to all of us to dictate what is written in those books—for better or for worse (I’d prefer better).
*the above is not preaching….just strong words from your trusted family member/friend.

Videos on youtube

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cYj_25ZekN4
hit link above for a video of my sister and another girl pounding coos. sorry for the camera angle and the end of the video. below is another video of girls dancing

pics

hope this works...hit the picture below of the children to view pics. while in that page...find My Photos and there you'll find more pics. hope this is ok

africa

June 18- Doing what I can

So I’m staying near the capital area again, and I’m near internet and computers-both of which are fast and free to use-so why not post up some info. Um, the rains have finally come, its rained a few times the past week. The first downpour came during the morning, I was walking to my house from the local shop and it started…every one was running into their houses…I, however, did not, I kept walking to my house and was completely soaked in 20 seconds= it was amazing! Now that the rain is here, the temp has cooled but that brings along the humidity, and the men are out plowing/prepping the fields. They have asked me to help…so I walk out to the fields and stand behind a ‘machine’, which is a basic plowing device which also places/covers seeds into the ground as it is being pulled behind some sort of an animal-donkey or cattle…one or two depending. So here’s this white guy in this huge field behind a donkey walking white two hands on the plow and walking back and forth…it was good times. This would have never happened in the states…but just imagine in your head that I, Travis, was, but hand-basically, plowing fields…work of which no one back home would ever dream of doing. I had to laugh while doing it, and a little afterwards.

I was asked to be apart of a Community Driven Development project-which is basically the State got some funding and were required to implement some standards on choosing specific villages in each region of the county that the funding would go towards. The criteria was based upon the size of the village and poverty level. The project is to bring funding to assist chosen villages to help locals in ‘helping themselves’ in a project that would benefit them, working with them to solve an issue/problem (sorry if that doesn’t make sense, i’ve been out of college for a year exactly, no laughing). So we had our initial meetings with each of the four villages that my committee is assigned to work with…the committee is comprised of local head of varying depts. that live/stay in my village-the nurse, women’s farmers head, the weatherman (yes we have a weatherman in my village..I laughed at the idea too…like what is the guy going to report “oh its blazing hot today” or “oh, it really raining outside”…I don’t know, ha). My job is to be a consultant; the cool thing is that i have background in the type of work…i took a few classes in college pertaining to just this…so score. This means more meetings and more traveling. So, I am officially a Health and Community Development volunteer; so volunteers in my sector are either or, but i work with the nurse and go to cling and now i’m involved with this comm. Delep. Project…so i guess i have a ‘job’ now, as opposed to just doing some activities around my village for two years. Its nothing major.

Other things: i cut my hair and shaved the sides of my face but left the goatee. Reasons: here in the Gambia there is a sub-culture of rosta/wanna-be jamacias…mostly men who are creepy and really want to get a visa to the US or Europe. I told myself that if i grew out my hair again, i would get dreads…i mean, why not, i have the time and i’m not here to impress any one. But if i got dreads, then i would be associated with the rosta culture and my work would be shot to hell (but that’s of my opinion). AND, me speaking pulaar, thus i am a fula, there are these fula hats that look like little beanies and they look bad-ace…and having long hair doesn’t work with these types of hats. So i got a fellow pcv to cut it short. Shaving: the sides of my face didn’t grow in very well…and i thought i looked like crap and only old men here have facial hair…so i got a crazy idea one day to shave. What an event…having to first cut the long hair with scissors, and then shave the rest. It took awhile but i managed. I look completely different. Now that the hair on my cheeks are gone, i can tell that i lost weight...but i'll post pics and you can decide that for yourselves. So here's some info for you, i'll post some more if i have time later before i leave back to site. love and miss you all

I am alive and well, dont worry

Hi all. Long time, I know sorry but not my fault…the internet at the nearest hospital was not paid for so I could not go on, go figure. I know you are all dying for information so Ill do what I can. I am currently in Basse, look at a map, visiting friends and we found an internet café…run by a huge generator, ha. So, lets try this out. I am just hanging out in my village as much as possible…although I go into Bansang or go and visit friends on weekends to see them and get supplies…I try to cook my own dinners but really what it comes downs to is just a tuna meal and then I eat some dinner with my host family. I, again, am trying to integrate and learn the language…good times, good times. These first three months are just really me trying to assess what the village needs, their resources, and what they are interested in. I will make a garden in my backyard soon soon…the rains will hit mid july…in fact the other morning it rained in Basse and apparently no where else in The Gambia, and it was amazing. All the locals ran into their houses and my PC friends and I just stood outside and took a free bath, ha. The PCs in my area just had a meeting regarding the worldwide impending food crisis, that will affect my area….thus people that I live amongst will be hungry…so im doing what I can do make sure we can construct gardens and have people save money…but time will tell. It is still 120 degrees F but, again, with the rains coming soon…it will cool down equals YES. So I am just figuring out my place in the village and area to see what work I will or be doing for the next two years. Stories….Battery Project. I had this idea when I was in training…people buy and used small batteries for their radios often here…but there is no garbage can or area to throw your waste…so it goes on the ground. Then kids will end up playing with the batteries…long story short…bad news bears. SO, I told a few kids in my village to bring me batteries and ill give them one minty, or candy, for one battery. Sounds like a good idea right, give the kids candy so they wont play with the used batteries. Well…I went thru 3 bags of candy my mom sent over from America and then I bought 2 bags of candy from the local shops in my village…thus showing my wealth as a white person in my village equal not good. And the kids were coming to me with their hands and cloths filthy. So I ran out of candy but had the kids wash their hands with soap as they came with their batteries. I currently have 2,000 D size batteries in my backyard, waiting to be put in my pit latrine. Ill have pics for it soon soon. Its an overall good story to tell, one of many moments that a PC had a great idea but it back fired. 2nd story...Bush Pig. So I live in a country that mainly practices Islam, thus they cannot eat pig. People througout the country now are clearing land for farming for the rainy season that is fast approaching. Also, hunters go out every sunday to rid the area of sqirrels, rabbits, monkeys, baboons and bush pig...because these animals will ruin their crops...sounds bad i know but its africa. so i tell the hunters, when you kill a pig, cut a leg off and bring it to me, because you cant eat it BUT i CAN. so finally one night my host brother brings me a pig leg at like 10pm the other night. i bring the leg to my backyard, really in amazment that i actually got the leg. i cut a few pieces off that night and fried it up...very good. the next morning i cut up half the leg and boiled it and had meat the entire day...i was very full and i got enough protein for a bit. the meat went bad later that night so i tossed it into the woods by my compound later that night. This is just one of man surreal african moments that ill experience while i am here.

I am alive and well, dont worry

Hi all. Long time, I know sorry but not my fault…the internet at the nearest hospital was not paid for so I could not go on, go figure. I know you are all dying for information so Ill do what I can. I am currently in Basse, look at a map, visiting friends and we found an internet café…run by a huge generator, ha. So, lets try this out. I am just hanging out in my village as much as possible…although I go into Bansang or go and visit friends on weekends to see them and get supplies…I try to cook my own dinners but really what it comes downs to is just a tuna meal and then I eat some dinner with my host family. I, again, am trying to integrate and learn the language…good times, good times. These first three months are just really me trying to assess what the village needs, their resources, and what they are interested in. I will make a garden in my backyard soon soon…the rains will hit mid july…in fact the other morning it rained in Basse and apparently no where else in The Gambia, and it was amazing. All the locals ran into their houses and my PC friends and I just stood outside and took a free bath, ha. The PCs in my area just had a meeting regarding the worldwide impending food crisis, that will affect my area….thus people that I live amongst will be hungry…so im doing what I can do make sure we can construct gardens and have people save money…but time will tell. It is still 120 degrees F but, again, with the rains coming soon…it will cool down equals YES. So I am just figuring out my place in the village and area to see what work I will or be doing for the next two years. Stories….Battery Project. I had this idea when I was in training…people buy and used small batteries for their radios often here…but there is no garbage can or area to throw your waste…so it goes on the ground. Then kids will end up playing with the batteries…long story short…bad news bears. SO, I told a few kids in my village to bring me batteries and ill give them one minty, or candy, for one battery. Sounds like a good idea right, give the kids candy so they wont play with the used batteries. Well…I went thru 3 bags of candy my mom sent over from America and then I bought 2 bags of candy from the local shops in my village…thus showing my wealth as a white person in my village equal not good. And the kids were coming to me with their hands and cloths filthy. So I ran out of candy but had the kids wash their hands with soap as they came with their batteries. I currently have 2,000 D size batteries in my backyard, waiting to be put in my pit latrine. Ill have pics for it soon soon. Its an overall good story to tell, one of many moments that a PC had a great idea but it back fired. 2nd story...Bush Pig. So I live in a country that mainly practices Islam, thus they cannot eat pig. People througout the country now are clearing land for farming for the rainy season that is fast approaching. Also, hunters go out every sunday to rid the area of sqirrels, rabbits, monkeys, baboons and bush pig...because these animals will ruin their crops...sounds bad i know but its africa. so i tell the hunters, when you kill a pig, cut a leg off and bring it to me, because you cant eat it BUT i CAN. so finally one night my host brother brings me a pig leg at like 10pm the other night. i bring the leg to my backyard, really in amazment that i actually got the leg. i cut a few pieces off that night and fried it up...very good. the next morning i cut up half the leg and boiled it and had meat the entire day...i was very full and i got enough protein for a bit. the meat went bad later that night so i tossed it into the woods by my compound later that night. This is just one of man surreal african moments that ill experience while i am here.

Eeyi, My hebi pen.

So...I passed my tech and major lang tests...and passed my final evaluation...so I am ready to swear-in as an offical peace corps volunteer. I got a bank account here, and the PC people "loaded" it with $$; some money for 'settling-in' and some money for site for the rest of april. But...I ran out of money but I made due when I was buying stuff....I bought a mattress, gas and two burner stove, pot/pan, etc etc. There is still more to buy. They give us more than enough $ to live here, but the first three months are tougher because I'll be buying stuff for my house and whatnot.

For the swearing-in, the head PC director from Wash. DC will be there. He flew in yesterday! So this is big...the head dude will be there...the guy that sends us our 'pay'-checks. PLUS, there will be some other hiearchies within the country there as well. THEREfore, our swearing-in will be televised nationally throughout the gambia= a big deal! We as the group have to do a little skit, sing a song and do some other activity ALL in local lang because of all the press and activity going on. Crazy, I know. After the ceremony, there is a party at the local brewery-JulBrew-and the the beer, so i hear, will be free = good times. i'll post some pics; you'll see me in a native african dress...not going to lie, i look bad ass...but you all probably laugh. rock'n roll. post some comments and ask some questions so i know what to type next time
with peace and love
haa yeeso

Mina hen seeda seeda- - I'm on it, slowly slowly

14/04/2008

My Randomness-
Sorry prior to anyone reading this but my blogs will be full of random stories and will change topic from sentence to sentence. I know its bad…but when you only have internet once-four times a month and you are being charged for it by the minute, it’s tough to get all what you wanna say down. I know I could write notes about things I want to say before I type the stuff out but I’m too lazy.

Ok, so apparently it costs $0.90 to send letter from the US to me; I don’t know if that is only West coast or the entire country, but there you go. Sorry for the extra cost, but it does have to cross a huge body of water. On the letters, write ‘Airmail’ on the front of it…it may be sent via plane, = shipped faster. I’m not really sure. All the packages and letters I’ve received thus far have taken a months time. I get mail currently as soon as it comes in, because I am in training and I’m special. BUT, when I am a Volunteer (after 18/04), I will only get mail once a month. The mail will come in to Banjul- the Gambia’s capital. PC will pick up mail at the post office 3 times a week and store it in the PC office. Then a truck will load up all the mail for all 125-ish volunteers that live all around this country and deliver it. So my address for packages and mail is:

Travis Warrington , PCV C/O Peace Corps/The Gambia, P.O. Box 582, Banjul, The Gambia, West Africa

No more ‘PCT’ on the address, because I’ll be a Volunteer in a few days, and if you send something now, I’ll be a PCV by the time I get it.

So when you all asked me back home before I left “So, what are you going to do over there?”, my response was “I really have no clue”…and I got some funny looks. I have more of an idea now: There is a Health Clinic in my village that occurs the 1st and 3rd Wednesdays of each month; where mothers with children under five and/or are pregnant can go for to check-up their children’s health- -for free. For me, I can help weighing the babies….and this might seem like I’m not doing much…but clinic days are chaotic and the nurses here can use all the help they can get. Also, my village doesn’t have a garden, so I will inquiry if they want to make one…and I will assist in the building one if they want one. (I speak Pulaar, language of the Fulas…who are known for having cattle, not gardens…so this may not happen). Other activities I’ll be involved with are showing my village how to make soap (either for personal use or to sell to make $) and to make a local mosquito repellent. I also met the Headmaster from the school in my village, and he is very interested in working with me (ie: me teaching a class or two regarding health topics to his students, helping him with his school’s garden, etc). I have counterparts, who are people who I’ll be working with- -Gambians who are motivated and want to change their country…so they’ll have more of an idea of what they want me help them on. The next three months, after I swear-in, are called ‘Three Month Challenge’…because you are officially a Volunteer and you are by yourself at your site/village with no teacher or fellow American to bail you out with your language. SO, my “job” for the next three months (I’ve told myself) is to get my house organized and buy stuff for it and to integrate….learn the language and learn about my village. Sounds easier when I type it out, ha. When negotiating meals with my host family, I wanted them (my host mom/sister(s)) to make me only breakfast and lunch, and for me to make my own dinner (one can only take so much rice and coos on a daily basis.) Plus, lunches here are the main meal, and dinner is basically a snack. And, by me making dinner for myself, I can make “Western type” food (ie: spaghetti). After I swear-in, I get $ to buy supplies and stuff for my house, which will be good because I at least need a bed and a stove.

Few things about the culture/life here:
Somewhat like Mexico, for most items here, you must bargain for the price of the item. Which is fine when you are speaking in English, but attempting to buy an item while speaking the local language from a Gambian who sees you are not a Gambia ( thus = to them you have $) is difficult. I manage…I’ve only had to haggle on a few major items…like getting 6 meters of fabric and THEN going to a tailor to have him make me a Gambian style ‘nice-type dressy’ outfit – or complet.

Greetings are key here….and the greeting change from morning, to afternoon, to evening…and the dialects of the languages differ from region to region. If you mess up on greetings or don’t greet, then you are rude. You basically have to greet everyone you meet while going anywhere (= give yourself enough time to walk to point A to B so you aren’t late for an appointments…which is why I am currently on ‘Gambian time’…= when you say you will be at there certain place at 1…you’ll probably be there at 1:45.) So without offending anyone, I greet when I can and as often as I can. The greetings consist of 3-5 question regarding that time period of day (ei: good morning, how did you sleep), how are the people at home/your village (which the person could ask about each individual in your family), and how is the work. Luckily for me, 80% of the responses to the greetings questions are “Jam Tan” (Peace Only). (Oh sorry, the greetings are the person(s)) ask you are question and you responding, and vice versa). The greetings can take 1 minute to 10 minutes…and, again, luckily for me, not knowing the language…when they ask question that I do not understand, I just default and say “Mi famani” (“ I don’t understand”).

If PC doesn’t transport us from place to place…I have a bike…well…I get a new bike in a month…so I can ride to the nearest city to get supplies and use the internet and maybe have a beer. But if I want to travel more than 45k (because I can ride my bike that far before lunch and have enough time to get home), I have to take public transport. There are two main roads in this country: the North Bank Road and the South Bank Road (guess where they are on the map?). The South road is rancid and horrible…pot holes everywhere…so vehicles go very slow at times to avoid getting a flat, and they drive off-road to avoid the shitty road. The North road is much better; and I hear they are attempting to fix the South one…but we’ll see when that gets finished…and I live near the South bank AND AND AND the actual public transportation is good times. In country, there are basically big vans, that have no power steering and are manuals. The drivers and their apprentices jam pack these vans full of people inside, and load the tops of the vehicles with goods (ie: luggage, rice, goats, and maybe some more people). So, if I want to get one, I must flag one down on the main road, if/once they stop, ask them (in local lang) where they’re going, is there room, how much is the fare to where I’m going….and if I think its too much, have them reduce it…and if I have a big bag that needs to go up top, to haggle with a price for that as well. Overall, good times. The vans are called ‘gele geles’ or ‘geles’ for short…and tend to be hammered vehicles because of the conditions of the roads and drivers not caring for their vehicles well being. You may sounds surprised and scared that I take these type of transportation to get to place to place, but PC thinks its safe, so it’s safe.

So...I'm in Africa...fyi

To all who read...friends and family...and/or curious folks-
So I have a myspace blog, and I've kept up on that for the past three months since on left DC...but then again, I really haven't had access to a computer that much, let alone running water and electricity. I attempted doing a mass email, but there's just too many addresses to copy/paste and Internet is slow and usually it costs. So here's my blog. Sounds like I'll have access to Internet more like either once a week to at least once a month. So there you go. I've received a few letters and a package thus far, and they all made my day!! Send more and as often as you can..if you'd like.

So I left from DC on the 7th (some of this info may be a repeat from my myspace blog, sorry). Before I left, I was told, sorry- I was urged, to cut my hair and take out my earrings. So I cut my long hair (but left my bangs) and took out my earrings (see pic(s)). So, there you go for all that hated my hair and/or my earnings. Um...I flew into the capital and stayed in the main capital area for the first week (there were 17 from all over the US that flew over in my training group). Then after finding out what language we'd learn (me- Pulaar), we were assigned training villages. The Pulaar group had 4 trainees (me included). So, we headed to our designated villages, and we stayed there for two months, give or take a week. In those weeks, I stayed with a host family in a compound of 7 huts, in a village with 7 compounds = small village. The other three trainees in the village with me (one + one married couple) each stayed with a different family/compound. We also had a Lang. and Cultural teacher living in the village...who would teach us how to live in the Gambia (hence their title) Life wasn't hard...just different. I woke up every morning at 7, walk to my teachers house to get the watering cans, walked to the pump to pump water for my garden, watered my garden. At 7:30am my host-mom would send over my breakfast, which would either be rice "oatmeal" or coos in warm water...with or without sour milk. Then, we had class from 8-1....which was mostly language. At 1 we had lunch (Peace Corps (PC) paid a village woman to cook lunches for us...which the five of us would each out of a huge bowl with our right hand only, while sitting on the floor = bad ass!). After lunch, it would be freak'n hot and I'd be really full (sorry, lunches would consist of rice, with either chicken, liver, beef or spam), with assorted veggies, with a sauce = I won't be eating rice again when I get home, sorry mom) so I'd take an hour nap. After napping, I'd study, attempt to interact with my family/village. Two of the other trainees were males, so we'd go for bike rides, or climb trees, or do other 'manly' things. The four of us would also by food to make westerns style food (french fries) some nights or have movies nights (the couple brought a laptop). I'd leave a bucket of water out on my back porch all day long, so at 7pm, after watering my garden again, I'd take a bucket bath with the warm water and listen to the BBC. At 8:30pm, my host-sister would bring me my dinner, which would be more rice, and maybe a small fish and some sauce. There is a video that I'll try to post that shows my hut at my training village (which doesn't compare to my permanent site's hut). There is a lot to put in here that happened between the gaps...but I can only type so much here....but more stories will come to me. Oh....my training village was near Tendaba...so google that and you'd find me.

This last Wednesday, we packed up our shit at training villages and had a site visit to our permanent sites!! Holy crap, talk about scary and awkward. I've been here from 3 months now and am at a Intermediate Low on my lang scores for Pulaar...and they want me to visit my village!?! So...my site is near Bansang, in fact 29k away from it (again, google that and you'll find where I'll be for the next 24 months) = middle of no where; AND since its far from the coast, its really hot, fyi....good lord hot!! I had a lang/cultural teacher with me the whole time I was at site; which help ease the awkwardness of me just being able/willing to only say greetings, I'm going to the pump, dinner was good, and i'm tired. My teacher also assisted in negotiating my rent, meals, and laundry for my with my family. My new host family consists of a dad and one mom (which a male having one wife in the gambia is UN-heard off...so its cool in my fam), 2 sisters, and a brother = small family = easier for my to learn their names...or not forget them at least. My hut is one bedroom, round and spacious, 2 windows....WITH a big backward with a mango tree AND its mango season....hell ya!. My hut also has a thatched roof = shit will fall down on me at night but as a opposed to a metal roof, it will be a lot cooler at night. My village has 47 compounds and 1500 people, with a school and only a few water pumps, but we are 1k away from the river. Wednesday, PC drove us out there from our training villages, but I left with my teacher on Friday to go back to the capital area (Kombo) via public transportation = good times but looks like I wont be coming to Kombo very often because it was a pain in the ass. SO...currently I am in Kombo...I have some more classes and have my final language test ( = scary because if I don't pass it with Intermediate Mid, then I stay in Kombo for 2 more weeks to me tutored = I don't swear -in with the rest of the group = not cool....so no pressure there). I swear-in as a PCV on the 18th and then I get $ to buy stuff for my house...then I'm sent back to my village up-country and there you have it. This is my first blog..but I'll be near a computer for the next few days...so I'll think of some more stuff and type it up. Miss home...the Western style of life and the ease of it all.