Wowy Zowy, one whole year in The Gambia as a PCV (on the first of Feb, that is)!!!! If I were trying to go to a university, I’d be able to get in-state tuition or something. Where has the time run off to? My whole concept of time has changed since joining the Peace Corps in Gambia. For one, school semesters seem really short. Can you really cram all that knowledge in a 3 month period? Guess so; it sure did feel like enough at the time. Two weeks vacation for a whole year? What the heck can you do and where can you go with that? I can blink my eyes here and two weeks will have passed. I’m ruined from ever working within a traditional American working time scheme. When we first learned about the differences in the concept of time here, I thought there’d be no way I’d be able to adjust, given my personality and type-A habits. But slowly slowly, I’ve become adjusted to this polychronic pace of life, and frankly, I sort of enjoy it. Things still manage to be accomplished and people in general seem to be in pretty high spirits. I’d be interested in reading a comparative study on burnout or depression between the two types of work environments.
I’m back in the swing of things and have adjusted to my schedule in Gambia better than I expected. But I suppose spending 10 months in one place will help you in that area. Over the course of a few days, I distributed my sila fando to the families in my compound, my 10 Sisters Kafoo and a few folks at Allatentu. I had printed a bunch of photos and those, by far, were the favorites. It appears that with the gift of a thousand words, the language of the picture translates universally. I wish I had printed even more.
Allatentu is keeping me busy, as usual. We’re rounding up the Accelerated Funds Grant so we’re working on compiling a final report and budget to send to them detailing the programs carried out and the ways it help improve the Center and its members. We’re discussing areas from which to re-program funds, such as extending monthly support meetings and doing another round of tie and dye, to make sure the funds are successfully and appropriately spent. The Jalibah fundraising concert, the big, pink elephant in the room, has once again been re-scheduled for March 16th. Hives have been placed and are starting to be colonized on the farm land, as according to the beekeeping calendar, so they can expect a first harvest in March, if all goes well. We’ll be compiling info for another grant as soon as the report is submitted. One thing at a time seems to be the philosophy that works best around here.
The new trainees arrive Feb 7th, to replace those COSing in April, that that will be fun to meet the new crowd and possibly help with their training a bit.
Mid Feb is the annual softball tournament between West African PC country volunteers, known as WAIST. So a bunch of us signed up to be on competitive or non-competitive teams and will bottleneck our way north, like a bunch of Plink-O chips clinking their way to the $10,000 slot, to the bustling metropolitan known as Dakar, Senegal. I’m excited to compare it to little, ol Banjul and see what kind of development has taken place in a larger developing West African country. I hear there are pastry bakeries and even an Ethiopian restaurant.
I hosted a little dinner party with some site mates last weekend. It was nice to play that role again and use that time to pick each other’s minds about future plans and ever changing ideas on how to live ones life; especially with the influence of experiencing certain things since joining an organization like Peace Corps. I made a 3 bean sort of stew from beans and spices from care packages and salsa from veggies in the market. Others brought wine and juice and my belated b-day present from a good friend, full of homemade chocolate chip cookies couldn’t have arrived at a more opportune time. Everyone gobbled them up. Thanks, girl!
I’ve been running quite a bit lately and breaking that up with some bike rides. The other day I biked all the way to “where the sidewalk ends”. Well, to where the pavement ends and the dusty pot-holed part of the South bank road begins. I passed some magnificent mahogany trees sheltering villager’s garden plots and the whole site was breathtaking; humbling me to realize how small we humans are in this land, yet what a proportionally large role we play in contributing positively and negatively to it all
I finally managed to weed my little flower bed last weekend. It always seems to be a spectacle for the neighborhood kids and I was quickly surrounded by a bunch confused why I was uprooting the corn?! Corn? I hadn’t planted any before I left for the States. Wild flowers, yes. Corn, no. I was uprooting the flower that hadn’t flowered yet, I said. Now, I was pulling up the corn that you can eat, they said. I had to admit, it did look like corn, not wild flowers at all. So I stopped and that appeased everyone. Turns out some kids threw some corn kernels and seeds over the fence of what now appears to be a little neighborhood garden (given the whole tomato stint and all). I’m fine with that. I even pulled up a “weed” that turned out to be a carrot, so I tried to pretend like I hadn’t disturbed it by sticking it right back in the earth. My moringa, on the other hand, has yet to take in the pots (since my host mom thinks they’ll turn into big trees, which after 20 years, they will. Man, they’re some ugly knobbly-looking trees, too. She won’t let me plant them close to the house). I need to ask for more seeds from the Ag-fo APCD, and perhaps even poly pot a few flowers I’ve got my eyes on from around the neighborhood.
A newly updated wish list (though not much has really changed):
*Letters
*MP3 music and books CDs (I’ve finally figured out how to upload the stuff on my own using one of the volunteer comps here)
*DVDs with movies and episodes of Office starting with season 3 and Greys season 4
*Veggie and flower seeds
*Skittles, Starbursts, Laffy Taffy (finally after a whole year, I’m less interested in the M&Is)
*Tootsie rolls (original and fruity flavored)
*Twix, Kit Kat and 100 Grand
*Dried fruit mixes
*Turkey Jerky
*Triscuits, Wheat Thins and other salty snack foods
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
It's a small world afterall
What do you get when you cross a jet-lagged lady with a word processing machine without the Internet? The first blog entry in over 2 months…
So, I’m back in The Gambia after about 24 hours of traveling. It’s been worse. I was actually dreading the sight of Terminal B at Brussels International Airport like PCVs dread the Bumsters at the height of the tourist season (which is in the present). But the entire place was so crowded with lines like I’d never seen and my layover wasn’t that long, that I barely had enough time to contemplate spending 2 Euros on a coffee before I found myself head bobbing for some zzzs on the last leg of my flight. Something was shining down on me that evening because what normally would have been a huge hassle and unnecessarily expensive taxi ride back to the Peace Corps hostel turned into a Kodak moment of a reunion between a fellow PCV and her generous parents, with whom I shared the public transport. I can’t thank you all enough!! It’s been a pretty good first couple of days (granted I haven’t really left the hostel) but other fellow PCVs from my group are staying here for various reasons and it feels comforting to be welcomed with such enthusiasm (and share my suitcase full of American food) with people who were complete strangers about a year ago.
First of all, though, I want to take a few sentences to thank the folks who made it all possible, in more than one way if you really want to get into it. (It all may sound a little cliché or like I’m writing an acceptance speech or something, but bear with me because it’s polite and I mean it). I just wanted to thank you again, Mom, Dad and Lydia for providing me with unconditional love and support throughout this past year and really for my entire life. I’m not sure if I’d be able to carry out this “adventure” without it. I can only hope that I am providing the same to you all, as well.
It feels a little strange to try to re-cap the experience in the States (after all, you guys are pretty familiar with that culture), but I guess it might be a little entertaining to describe a few instances that stand out in my mind, from the point of view of someone who hasn’t gotten behind the wheel or worn socks in about a year.
Event #1- Chicago O’Hare International Airport:
I guess I’m not sure if it was the shock of seeing an actual trash can that came all the way up to my hip (with trash inside), or the surprisingly sweet aroma of coffee (that I later realized was actually wafting from within the trash can), but I found myself standing next to it for the duration of the time I waited to board the last leg of my flight to DFW. All of a sudden a “thump” from the can awoke me from my stimuli-overload reverie. When I casually glanced inside, I realized that the girl sitting closest to it, who was waiting to board the plane at the next gate, had thrown away about $6 of glossy-bound paper, known to you as maybe entertainment trash (probably in more than one way), but to me as my next in-flight reading material. Yep, as soon as she got up to board her flight, I did the ol’ shifty-eyed quick glance around and pulled out the brand new, completely un-affected by spilled coffee, women’s magazine that gave me new color-schemed decorating ideas, winter fashion faux pas and up-to-date tips on scoring a seat at the hippest club, not to mention the guy at the bar! Man! What would I have done with out all that advice?!
Event #2- Surprise visit to my sister’s graduation; Universal Studios, Disney World:
I think this one pretty much explains itself. My advice? Try to avoid 200 feet renditions of King Kong after living in West Africa.
But truly, she was completely surprised to see me (she thought I’d be in Dallas when she and the parents came back from her graduation a few days later) and I was really proud to see her in her element and all she’d accomplished over the past few years. She’s been so supportive of my endeavors, it was one of the few things I could have done; to watch her cross that stage to take her next step to the wide open options with which this world presents.
Event #3- Meeting my best girl-friend’s son as a toddler:
I got to see momma at her work, but the little guy was already in bed when I eventually made it to their place to settle in for the night. The sight of toys scattered neatly in a corner and colorful foam letters plastered to the side of the bath tub threw me off as I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed alone in a house previously associated with evenings of movie entertainment and tasty mixed drinks (which after staying there most of the duration of my time in Norman, I can say those associations will remain, with the addition of a little live entertainment as well J). The next morning, I woke to sounds of father and son sharing precious morning time learning how to stack blocks, but probably learning more about each other in the process. When I saw Mr. Man for the first time again, I had to compose myself quickly so as not to frighten the two them. The last thing I wanted was for this kid to meet this crazy crying lady. All of a sudden I was imagining two of us wailing instead of just one, most likely confusing all parties invloved, poor dad. Composed semi-successfully, the three of us returned big plastic letters to the farm house through corresponding plastic letter cut-outs and pulled apart big Legos known to me from my childhood as Duplos until it was time for him to go play with kids his own age.
Event #4- Hanging with the Moose:
The dog was pretty much attached at my hip the whole time. I was afraid he wouldn’t remember me, but after that first run, we were back on track, taking commands from each other and fighting for space in the bed. We went to Arkansas on a climbing trip for a long weekend and played Frisbee almost every day.
I was browsing in the local record store in Norman towards the end of my visit and could have sworn the artist throw out the name “Roscoe”. I didn’t think anything of it then and I wasn’t even convinced that I heard correctly. Then, on my car ride to Dallas; just the two of us, I was playing an MP3 CD my friend randomly threw together and that song came on, except I couldn’t place where I’d heard it previously. But the rental car I was driving was so fancy; it even displayed the title of the songs being played, which confirmed what I thought I had heard the first time in the record store. It was absurdly appropriate. THEN, I was flipping through my MP3 player, which my other friend had uploaded new artist on, and guess which album appeared? Roscoe was destined to travel with me back to Gambia, if only through lyrics of a song and many cute photos. He was one of the hardest to say goodbye to (literally and figuratively), as he kept avoiding my hugs at the airport.
I’m really happy that I got to see so many of your faces and spend time at the local spots I’ve reminisced about since leaving. It was neat to observe that, although time has passed and things and people have changed, those changes still allow for old friends to re-connect, while sort of challenging the time elapsed. It also allows for widening your circle and letting new people and ideas in, which I am truly grateful for. As long as both people are up for the challenge, good people will probably remain in your life for a long time.
So, I’m back in The Gambia after about 24 hours of traveling. It’s been worse. I was actually dreading the sight of Terminal B at Brussels International Airport like PCVs dread the Bumsters at the height of the tourist season (which is in the present). But the entire place was so crowded with lines like I’d never seen and my layover wasn’t that long, that I barely had enough time to contemplate spending 2 Euros on a coffee before I found myself head bobbing for some zzzs on the last leg of my flight. Something was shining down on me that evening because what normally would have been a huge hassle and unnecessarily expensive taxi ride back to the Peace Corps hostel turned into a Kodak moment of a reunion between a fellow PCV and her generous parents, with whom I shared the public transport. I can’t thank you all enough!! It’s been a pretty good first couple of days (granted I haven’t really left the hostel) but other fellow PCVs from my group are staying here for various reasons and it feels comforting to be welcomed with such enthusiasm (and share my suitcase full of American food) with people who were complete strangers about a year ago.
First of all, though, I want to take a few sentences to thank the folks who made it all possible, in more than one way if you really want to get into it. (It all may sound a little cliché or like I’m writing an acceptance speech or something, but bear with me because it’s polite and I mean it). I just wanted to thank you again, Mom, Dad and Lydia for providing me with unconditional love and support throughout this past year and really for my entire life. I’m not sure if I’d be able to carry out this “adventure” without it. I can only hope that I am providing the same to you all, as well.
It feels a little strange to try to re-cap the experience in the States (after all, you guys are pretty familiar with that culture), but I guess it might be a little entertaining to describe a few instances that stand out in my mind, from the point of view of someone who hasn’t gotten behind the wheel or worn socks in about a year.
Event #1- Chicago O’Hare International Airport:
I guess I’m not sure if it was the shock of seeing an actual trash can that came all the way up to my hip (with trash inside), or the surprisingly sweet aroma of coffee (that I later realized was actually wafting from within the trash can), but I found myself standing next to it for the duration of the time I waited to board the last leg of my flight to DFW. All of a sudden a “thump” from the can awoke me from my stimuli-overload reverie. When I casually glanced inside, I realized that the girl sitting closest to it, who was waiting to board the plane at the next gate, had thrown away about $6 of glossy-bound paper, known to you as maybe entertainment trash (probably in more than one way), but to me as my next in-flight reading material. Yep, as soon as she got up to board her flight, I did the ol’ shifty-eyed quick glance around and pulled out the brand new, completely un-affected by spilled coffee, women’s magazine that gave me new color-schemed decorating ideas, winter fashion faux pas and up-to-date tips on scoring a seat at the hippest club, not to mention the guy at the bar! Man! What would I have done with out all that advice?!
Event #2- Surprise visit to my sister’s graduation; Universal Studios, Disney World:
I think this one pretty much explains itself. My advice? Try to avoid 200 feet renditions of King Kong after living in West Africa.
But truly, she was completely surprised to see me (she thought I’d be in Dallas when she and the parents came back from her graduation a few days later) and I was really proud to see her in her element and all she’d accomplished over the past few years. She’s been so supportive of my endeavors, it was one of the few things I could have done; to watch her cross that stage to take her next step to the wide open options with which this world presents.
Event #3- Meeting my best girl-friend’s son as a toddler:
I got to see momma at her work, but the little guy was already in bed when I eventually made it to their place to settle in for the night. The sight of toys scattered neatly in a corner and colorful foam letters plastered to the side of the bath tub threw me off as I brushed my teeth and got ready for bed alone in a house previously associated with evenings of movie entertainment and tasty mixed drinks (which after staying there most of the duration of my time in Norman, I can say those associations will remain, with the addition of a little live entertainment as well J). The next morning, I woke to sounds of father and son sharing precious morning time learning how to stack blocks, but probably learning more about each other in the process. When I saw Mr. Man for the first time again, I had to compose myself quickly so as not to frighten the two them. The last thing I wanted was for this kid to meet this crazy crying lady. All of a sudden I was imagining two of us wailing instead of just one, most likely confusing all parties invloved, poor dad. Composed semi-successfully, the three of us returned big plastic letters to the farm house through corresponding plastic letter cut-outs and pulled apart big Legos known to me from my childhood as Duplos until it was time for him to go play with kids his own age.
Event #4- Hanging with the Moose:
The dog was pretty much attached at my hip the whole time. I was afraid he wouldn’t remember me, but after that first run, we were back on track, taking commands from each other and fighting for space in the bed. We went to Arkansas on a climbing trip for a long weekend and played Frisbee almost every day.
I was browsing in the local record store in Norman towards the end of my visit and could have sworn the artist throw out the name “Roscoe”. I didn’t think anything of it then and I wasn’t even convinced that I heard correctly. Then, on my car ride to Dallas; just the two of us, I was playing an MP3 CD my friend randomly threw together and that song came on, except I couldn’t place where I’d heard it previously. But the rental car I was driving was so fancy; it even displayed the title of the songs being played, which confirmed what I thought I had heard the first time in the record store. It was absurdly appropriate. THEN, I was flipping through my MP3 player, which my other friend had uploaded new artist on, and guess which album appeared? Roscoe was destined to travel with me back to Gambia, if only through lyrics of a song and many cute photos. He was one of the hardest to say goodbye to (literally and figuratively), as he kept avoiding my hugs at the airport.
I’m really happy that I got to see so many of your faces and spend time at the local spots I’ve reminisced about since leaving. It was neat to observe that, although time has passed and things and people have changed, those changes still allow for old friends to re-connect, while sort of challenging the time elapsed. It also allows for widening your circle and letting new people and ideas in, which I am truly grateful for. As long as both people are up for the challenge, good people will probably remain in your life for a long time.
P.S. I've been uploading pics over the last month, so there may be some new ones...
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