One morning a couple of weeks ago, I was aroused from a dream I was having by the sound of a baaing sheep. Now, a herd of baaing goats passing by, outside the compound is completely normal. But the sound of one, slightly distressed sheep, inside the compound is extremely rare. I remember thinking groggily something like, "why wont someone just shoo the sheep outside the compound?" Then I even questioned if it really was a sheep or was I just hearing the sound of my own slumber?! Soon, I drifted back asleep, the noise actually being what helped lull me (or maybe I just counted to the number one over and over again, ha!) Well, I was having this dream that I had lost my little camera and I was SO mad at myself for losing it because I guess I thought I hadn't uploaded any of the photos I'd been taking this past year. They were all as good as completely gone as far as I was concerned and that made me extremely angry at myself So when I found myself waking up for the send time, my first though was relief at realizing my camera was in my bag right next to the bed. I stumbled sleepily from out under my bed net and walked to the front door, instead of the bathroom for some reason, and saw immediately the reason I had been able to drift back to sleep and stay that way for a few more hours: two of my neighbors were in the process of skinning the reason, which took the form of a slaughtered sheep. Next thing I did? Run back inside to locate (with reminded relief) my camera to take pictures! 
Last weekend I felt the urge to get out of town, so I called my friend who lives in a village about midway through the country on the north side of the river. I was excited about seeing her new site and spending the weekend with some friends who live more of the lifestyle to which we were first introduced. I've heard transport horror stories, so I tried to mentally prepare for what may be in store for the day, keeping in mind that patience needed to be the virtue most practiced. The trip to her village, near the town of Kaur, is probably no more than 200k (including the ferry crossing) from Brikama. I packed some food, my book and fully charged MP3 player geared with "This American Life", just in case. The following is an actual timeline of my journey:
9am: Leave from Brikama car park in a gele for Banjul in a Coastal Road car (they take a longer route, but stop less frequently).
10:15am: Drop from gele and take taxi to ferry terminal.
11:15am: Board ferry after getting pushed and shoved from "no lines in Gambia", where EVERYONE would benefit from a ticket and boarding line.
12:15pm: Arrive in Barra, across the river and find a gele going past her village, in order to drop accordingly.
1:30pm: Actually start the engine after waiting for the car to fill.
1:40pm: Stop for gas.
2:10pm: Stop for prayers; work on squeaky wheel.
3:00pm: Stop for this.
3:20pm: Stop for that.
4:14pm: Stop in a town about an hour away from my drop for food and an hour and a half of squeaky wheel work/ 5pm prayers.
6:45pm: Arrive in village!!! Greeted with a name sign by friends.
Man, that was a long day! Glad I geared up with plenty of patience and patriotism. Hanging in the village was refreshing and therapeutic for all 4 or us, as we reflected on the past year while projecting on the next. And the trip home was much quicker, as the luck of gele transport in Gambia presents itself.
It's crazy how our senses have the ability to evoke the most buried memories, creating a whirlwind of emotions, either leaving us feeling complete and nostalgic, or just completely wrecked. Touching a piece of satin reminds me instantly of my childhood blankie that I probably carried around way too long. Tasting a spoonful of Haagen-Dazs Coffee ice cream reminds me of afternoons at my Meme's house (even though she was a Rum Raisin fan). Listening to ANY Don William's song, no matter where in the world I am, will always remind me of the four of us driving to Beavers Bend State Park (gotta love the dysfunctional car rides :)). Even the subtlest glance toward a rock face or mountain, picture form or real, makes my hands get just a little clammier than they already were. But it's the sense of smell that has the most profound effect; does the most damage. You know what I'm talking about... You're standing at a crosswalk, furrowing your brow as your eyes follow that chic walking in the highest heals you've ever seen, when suddenly, you catch a whiff of what you place to be Play Dough. Now, you're back in elementary school re-living the time your diorama, entitled "Creatures Under the Sea", took 3rd in the annual 5th grade diorama contest. Or maybe you find yourself in the Chicago 'O Hare airport, next to a trashcan emitting sweet coffee fumes... Oh yeah, life BEFORE Nescafe.
Anyway, I guess the smell thing is so potent, it sometimes reminds us of things and places even when we're already there. Or perhaps it's the smelling them for the first time after not smelling them because the smells are just that unique to a place that brings some sort of comfort. What I'm getting at is that there are certain smells I didn't realized I had related to Gambia until I left, went to The States, thus not smelling them for a while, then coming back. So I want to take this opportunity to share some of the smells of this tiny country, I have come to recognize on a daily basis. Got your sinuses cleared? No matter, after this, they will be.
Good Smells:
1. Women frying fish heads in oil on neighborhood corners in the evenings.
2. This incense they burn in the little clay pots.
3. Just the burning firewood for daily cooking.
4. Babies lathered in shae butter.
5. Cashew fruit orchards.
6. General WA body odor "musk"
Not So Good Smells:
1. Grass/ donkey poop burning
2. Fishing ports
Hope you enjoyed a little updated tour of the Gambia, as seen through they eyes of an "old" PCV now. The new trainees came on Thursday and tonight is the get together at the "Come INN" where everyone gets to meet each other.
Miss you guys tons, just like usual. I uploaded a few pics. Thanks for the emails, letters and packages. They sure do help make and keep me happy!
Love, Courtney
Last weekend I felt the urge to get out of town, so I called my friend who lives in a village about midway through the country on the north side of the river. I was excited about seeing her new site and spending the weekend with some friends who live more of the lifestyle to which we were first introduced. I've heard transport horror stories, so I tried to mentally prepare for what may be in store for the day, keeping in mind that patience needed to be the virtue most practiced. The trip to her village, near the town of Kaur, is probably no more than 200k (including the ferry crossing) from Brikama. I packed some food, my book and fully charged MP3 player geared with "This American Life", just in case. The following is an actual timeline of my journey:
9am: Leave from Brikama car park in a gele for Banjul in a Coastal Road car (they take a longer route, but stop less frequently).
10:15am: Drop from gele and take taxi to ferry terminal.
11:15am: Board ferry after getting pushed and shoved from "no lines in Gambia", where EVERYONE would benefit from a ticket and boarding line.
12:15pm: Arrive in Barra, across the river and find a gele going past her village, in order to drop accordingly.
1:30pm: Actually start the engine after waiting for the car to fill.
1:40pm: Stop for gas.
2:10pm: Stop for prayers; work on squeaky wheel.
3:00pm: Stop for this.
3:20pm: Stop for that.
4:14pm: Stop in a town about an hour away from my drop for food and an hour and a half of squeaky wheel work/ 5pm prayers.
6:45pm: Arrive in village!!! Greeted with a name sign by friends.
Man, that was a long day! Glad I geared up with plenty of patience and patriotism. Hanging in the village was refreshing and therapeutic for all 4 or us, as we reflected on the past year while projecting on the next. And the trip home was much quicker, as the luck of gele transport in Gambia presents itself.
It's crazy how our senses have the ability to evoke the most buried memories, creating a whirlwind of emotions, either leaving us feeling complete and nostalgic, or just completely wrecked. Touching a piece of satin reminds me instantly of my childhood blankie that I probably carried around way too long. Tasting a spoonful of Haagen-Dazs Coffee ice cream reminds me of afternoons at my Meme's house (even though she was a Rum Raisin fan). Listening to ANY Don William's song, no matter where in the world I am, will always remind me of the four of us driving to Beavers Bend State Park (gotta love the dysfunctional car rides :)). Even the subtlest glance toward a rock face or mountain, picture form or real, makes my hands get just a little clammier than they already were. But it's the sense of smell that has the most profound effect; does the most damage. You know what I'm talking about... You're standing at a crosswalk, furrowing your brow as your eyes follow that chic walking in the highest heals you've ever seen, when suddenly, you catch a whiff of what you place to be Play Dough. Now, you're back in elementary school re-living the time your diorama, entitled "Creatures Under the Sea", took 3rd in the annual 5th grade diorama contest. Or maybe you find yourself in the Chicago 'O Hare airport, next to a trashcan emitting sweet coffee fumes... Oh yeah, life BEFORE Nescafe.
Anyway, I guess the smell thing is so potent, it sometimes reminds us of things and places even when we're already there. Or perhaps it's the smelling them for the first time after not smelling them because the smells are just that unique to a place that brings some sort of comfort. What I'm getting at is that there are certain smells I didn't realized I had related to Gambia until I left, went to The States, thus not smelling them for a while, then coming back. So I want to take this opportunity to share some of the smells of this tiny country, I have come to recognize on a daily basis. Got your sinuses cleared? No matter, after this, they will be.
Good Smells:
1. Women frying fish heads in oil on neighborhood corners in the evenings.
2. This incense they burn in the little clay pots.
3. Just the burning firewood for daily cooking.
4. Babies lathered in shae butter.
5. Cashew fruit orchards.
6. General WA body odor "musk"
Not So Good Smells:
1. Grass/ donkey poop burning
2. Fishing ports
Hope you enjoyed a little updated tour of the Gambia, as seen through they eyes of an "old" PCV now. The new trainees came on Thursday and tonight is the get together at the "Come INN" where everyone gets to meet each other.
Miss you guys tons, just like usual. I uploaded a few pics. Thanks for the emails, letters and packages. They sure do help make and keep me happy!
Love, Courtney
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