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.