Birthdays and Brushes

Can you tell I'm a big fan of alliteration? Well, the big ol' b-day came and went. Still not exactly sure about the whole "quarter of a century" thing, but the celebration around it was at least entertaining. As I had envisioned in my head, I baked myself a spice cake with cream cheese frosting (don't worry, I wanted to bake it myself- I miss baking). Also on the menu for the party was a homemade snack mix full of oaty cereal stuff and caramelized pretzels (thanks Erica!), oatmeal cookies, pasta with veggies and homemade sangria with fruit (well, made with box red wine, box fruit juice, and ginger ale "lime drink"). It was a good spread. Kind of difficult to transport back on a gele-gele, but with my really awesome and helpful friend's help, we made it happen. They even decorated my house and it really felt like an American b-day party. A lot of my site mates came to help celebrate, as well as some up country friends from my health group. My host family came over for a few minutes to taste the goods. I've noticed a lot of the time when we share "American" food with our host families, they Gambianize it by adding mayonnaise, Jimbo aka MSG, or put the contents on bread, but this time they gobbled up the snacks. Guess it's hard to flavor up oatmeal cookies. Thanks again for all the birthday cards and care packages. It really meant a lot to be able to open them on the day.


Speaking of care packages, my aunt from Dallas really followed through with the toothbrush and toothpaste request from last time. I opened her package to find, amongst the Mike and Ikes and Burts Bees (of which I can officially say I have enough of now to last the next two years), about 200 individually wrapped and pre-dipped in toothpaste, toothbrushes. After running into one of my site mates and discussing with her my new toothbrush distribution dilemma, we decided a demo was in store. So that night, during the regular gathering of neighborhood kids at my host family's TV, I brought one of the toothbrushes, asked what it was called in Mandinka and told the crowd my aunt sent me a lot and that I wanted to show them how to brush their teeth. Some of the guys said they already knew how, but I shot back with the "but if you come, I will give you one" line and the next morning kids I hadn't even seen were telling me they were coming to my class. To prepare for the demo, I wrote a little song to the tune of "This is the way you..." and took it to work to get help translating a few words I didn't know. By 5:30, there was a swarm of kids outside my compound where, fairly quickly tooth brushing became the coolest thing on the street. I did my little demo, then handed the swarm their own toothbrushes and told them that I was going to sing my little song while they brushed their own teeth. It went a little something like this:






































I ka da josi, tenne tenne

I da ku, I da ku

I ka da josi, tenne tenne

Ni kunun ta


I made sure to emphasize the importance of returning the toothbrush to the package it came in, because I could just see 100 plastic bags blowing about around the compounds. Since no trash system is installed, littering becomes first habit. It was all over in about 30 minutes, but the next day I asked a girl how many times she'd brushed her teeth and even though I'd said it should be done at least twice a day, she answered 4! Marilina, you would be so proud! I have enough left to do another demo and plan on breaking out in the song every now and then to keep the spirit of teeth brushing alive.


The next evening, I went to go hang out with the kids again and found only my mother, Tida lying on the couch, fanning herself from mosquitoes. I asked where everyone was and she said they were at the wedding that was happening a few compounds away. I was all ready for a quiet evening of writing letters, but decided to throw on a skirt and wander to the "knot tying". I immediately recognized a bunch of my neighbors, who were all dressed in the same fabric for the event (this is called an asobe) and was taken in and welcomed. It had been going on for a while already, but the bride was still washing and getting ready so there was a bunch of sitting around to be had. Then all of a sudden, a taxi pulled up outside the compound wall and a huge crowd migrated from the house to the taxi and I later realized that the bride was in the middle of the crowd. Then the taxi started off and people started shouting "manno bito! manno bito!" which translates to the knot tying and began following the taxi, where the destination turned out to be her husband's compound. It was already pretty late, and I didn't know where we were heading, but my neighbor, Awa, was with me, so I decided to see what all the fuss was about. When we got there, the girls started shouting "Mariama came!!!" and pulled me into the dance circle where I busted out a few moves and took this picture of my friend, Kaddy and her son, Alhagie-Modou. Still not sure who or where the bride was (the grooms rarely come to these events), I asked and they pointed out this figure completely covered with a white cloth laying on a mat, surrounded by sitting family members. Next to her was a calabash, gourd bowl where dancing attendants can throw money. I tossed some money in, took note of the covered bride, said my goodbyes and was accompanied back home by Awa.


Work with the support group is fairly slow at the moment. We rescheduled a board meeting, only to have no one but myself show up for the rescheduled one. A few of us are still working on getting the cashew orchard started and plan to re-plant the polypots of germinated cashews next week sometime. I also had this idea of promoting the "Teryiaa" CD on one of my favorite radio stations to listen to online, KEXP. One DJ has a show called Best Ambiance on Monday evenings where he play music from Africa. I finally got the literature together they suggested one sends when trying to get airplay, and sent him the info through email and a CD through the mail. He responded the next day by saying he was really looking forward to receiving the package and that he'd visited Gambia twice and studied with a kora player here. I can only hope that this will lead to good things! (like you guys tuning into Best Ambiance on Monday evenings from 6-9 and hearing a song from Allatentu Support Band and saying "Hey! that's the group my really awesome (insert relationship to me), Courtney, works with! Wow, that music is kick'n. I must buy that CD!") By the way, a link to KEXP is on the link list to the left of the page as "Good Music".




I'm taking my first vacation in a few weeks. I'm headed to Greece with a good friend from the States and we are going to spend a few weeks in Crete, practicing Ashtanga with a great man my Norman yoga teacher studied with. Yeah, I'm pretty stoked. Over the next two weeks, I'll be working on getting stuff together to bring, as well as helping out on clinic days, singing about brushing teeth, transplanting cashew trees, helping my new education volunteer site mates feel welcome (congrats to swearing in guys!) as well as giving tips to new urban volunteers (Yes it's normal to want to punch that boy who just cursed you out in the face. No you don't have to greet everyone you pass like they ingrained into our heads in training- you'd never make it to work!)



I still miss you guys a tons and look forward to mail day and keeping in contact with all as much as when I first left, so keep em coming!

E Ning Barra

So there's sort of a running joke in PC Gambia that it's difficult to live as an urban volunteer based on the current PC living allowance. Supposedly we get supplemented accordingly and I definitely get help with my rend from the office, but I also definitely spend most, if not all of my monthly stipend of the equivalent of about $170. Those of you who knew me fairly well in the States may remember that I was pretty thrifty or at least prioritized my spending. I am also a big fan of "saving for the future/rainy day," but when the rainy season lasts half the year, I get a little jealous of those volunteers who boast saving 1/2 their salaries for spending money on vacations, while I'm setting aside money for my electricity and water bills. Don't get me wrong, I definitely purchase my fair share of cookies on a regular basis and access to a fresh market to supplement my diet with nutrients most can't obtain in their villages certainly outweigh the 30 Euros I might save for that vacation to Europe. And in the end, even though we are doing volunteer work, PCVs still earn more per month than most professions in Gambia such as teachers, farmers, gele drivers and even business professionals, allowing us to partake in our vices. While some enjoy over indulging in fabric purchase or helping keep the Jewlbrew Brewery in business, I prefer to support my local market by buying things that use "current", things that people donated to that developing country clothes drive (I swear half the stuff I've seen would probably sell for what it costs to feed a family for a month at one of those vintage boutiques back in the States. Tracksuits anyone? *Oh! The irony!*) and of course cookies and fake Nutella.

But I digress... Anyway, last week, one of my up country friends came up with the idea that maybe urban PCVs should think about taking a side job, such as a Gele Aparantae (the young boys who aggressively pursue you in the car parks, assuring that there is always one seat left just for you and that the car is leaving now NOW!, only to find it half empty and leaving now later), to supplement our income a little (but I know we really aren't allowed to take on extra income). The slightly unnerving part of it is that I actually pictured myself shouting out one of the destinations while hanging half way out of a gele for a good 30 seconds. Then I started thinking of other odd jobs that one might wish to pursue for a little extra pocket $. So here is a short list/description of work we probably see on a daily basis, but fail to recognize and appreciate for its contribution to the Gambian economy.

Sooooooooooooo, E Ning Barra, Baake! Thanks for the work guys!

1. Gele Aparantae- Most could probably receive a legitimate ADD diagnosis, and as much as they strike my last nerve on some days, these young men most certainly cannot be labeled lazy or falling down on the job. Thanks for insuring I get dropped at the next junction!

2. Personal Assistant aka Small Boy- These guys have been known to preform errands across the gamete, from an Attaya (green tea) run to the bitik to calming their younger sibling by slinging them on the hip, these kids would go to the ends of the earth of told to. Thanks for the water!

3. Attaya Brewer- I probably would get fired for not putting enough sugar in. Thanks for keeping the young guys who are out of work content and contained for the afternoon!

4. Bean Sandwich Lady- They sit at their stands people watching and talking to their fellow stand mates until their product is finished. they must have an incredible amount of patience to remain there throughout the day. Some bring their knitting, but I think there could be a PC literacy project for the education volunteers hidden within the Bean Sandwich Lady population. Thanks for helping me obtain an adequate amount of protein in my diet at an affordable price!

5. Hair Plater- These girls have got hair braiding down to a science, not to mention an art. Even though I've unofficially taken on the role as hair cutter among our health group, the pig tail style-inverted french braid is about as fancy as I get. Thanks for making every one's hair look beautiful for every occasion, especially weddings and naming ceremonies!

6. Construction Man- From creating blocks out of mud from the solid ground to build houses, to constructing wells, thanks for putting a roof over our heads and water at our disposal!

7. Farmers and Herdsman- Their working hours coordinate with the sun, which makes for extremely long and exhausting days during rainy season. their harvest nourish our bodies and give us energy to carry on our daily tasks. Thanks for putting in so much effort to keeping life's cycle moving!

8. Prayer Caller- I'm pretty sure you have to be male and a Muslim, but the more I think about it, the more it seems it could be the prefect supplemental job. Who wouldn't like to sing out in Arabic over an intercom system 5 times a day, having the rest of the day to pursue other engagements? Only down side I can think of is that when I looked at the clock this morning when I hear the first prayer call, it read 4:45am. do you get to go back to bed after you've praised Allah? Thanks for helping all the practicing Muslims stay on schedule with their prayer times (and those not-practicing Muslims without watches stay on time for their 2 or 5pm meetings).

Sparkles, Saints and Soda

This key chain was given to me by a family friend before I left for Gambia. It is one of my favorite things I brought and was decided by other friends on the Basse trip that the ideals that the key chain may represent to people of Mexican heritage are pretty much encompassed in this tiny trinket; thus the title of Sparkles, Saints and Soda.

First off, per request of a friend, here are the coordinates to my house and work in Brikama, Gambia on Google Earth:


13 16'54.09N
16 38'53.19W Home

13 16'25.85N
16 38'54.31W Work

I put in the link to upload the program on the left side of the blog.


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Question: (That one's for all you Office fans out there)


Why has it taken me a little longer this time to want to create my next post?


Answer: I have a few theories that most likely reflect my current point in service. Theory A: Things no longer appear "news worthy", thus reflecting on my excellent integration to my Gambia PC experience. Theory 2: I am in a "trough" period in the service according to a PC paper entitled to something of the effect of "Peaks and Valleys: a PCVs Guide to the Emotional Time Line of Service", where it is normal to spend the entire day in my house reading, where possibly the only thing I may accomplish is making my bed, only to get right back in it to spend the rest of the day with my book. Theory Z: There are too many exciting things going on in my life and it's too hard to keep up with them and transfer them to a hard copy such as a blog. Hopefully it's a small combination of all three, but I'd love to get input from you guys back home.


Now on with all the exciting things that are going on in my life... The Basse trip last week was an adventure for sure. It was really nice to get to see the countryside during the rainy season from the comfort of a crowded gele. Thanks to the pot-holed-excuse for the south-bank road and zero bridges, the most popular route to get to the largest town at he end of the country is to take the north bank road, along with a series of crowded ferry crossings. I traveled with my urban town buddy, Allison and our first stop was to visit and stay the night with a friend in our group who lives in a small Fula village, several K from the main road. It was neat to see where and how she was spending her time in service, but I have to admit, it was a little overwhelming not to be able to speak to the people in her village and after the morning of traveling, cordially "greeting" most of the compounds in the village (she knows most of their names- it's that small) was pretty tiring, not to mention it took us about 45 minutes to walk to the pump to fetch water maybe 300m away. The next morning, at which we were 5 in number, we took a horse cart to the main road to catch a gele, a series of ferries and small taxi rides, eventually arriving at our destination of the PC Basse transit house. The town of Basses reminded me of a small-one horse town in middle America; one street lined with a few restaurants, corner shops, a bank , and a barbershop, but accompanied by the iconic bean sandwich ladies, a small fresh market and fabric shops, all of which are pretty standard in urban Gambian towns. Most of my health group gathered in Basse that weekend, recreating a mini reunion. We ate soft served ice cream and visited Chris's (one of my Kaif village training mates) banana plantation in his village near Basse. After an unsuccessful attempt at contacting Kaddy, I've decided that the low-harassment and almost toubab-free shouting definitely merits another visit and possibly even finding a reason to take my work up there for a few months.

On the return trip, we decided to take the south bank road (something I will consider very long and hard about doing next time I'm thinking about traveling- you will have to be a VERY special person to convince me to take that path again) to stay with a friend in Bansang, then with a friend who was about to return to the States whose site was near the town of Soma, a common destination point for my training group in the CRR (Central River Region). **Flashback sequence begins** Ahh, Soma, a town I loathed the first time I visited 5 months back...on foot- only to discover a false claim of cold drinks and what we thought at the time was a hiked up toubab price of a gele ride back to Kaif. No Sir-ee, we weren't going to cough up the D15, reduced from D20 because we were told by our LCH that the fair was D10! So we returned by foot, walking in total about 22K in the mid-day sun, as empty handed and more sadly, empty hearted as we had started. **Flashback ends**

Our gele ride from Bansang to Soma was "there only" as the locals say and we are now too familiar with further false claims of a gele straight to Soma, where the only 2 people in car going that far were two female toubabs while the rest of the gele was boarded by Mandinka women traveling to a naming ceremony in a town about 40K short of Soma. That said, we were basically bribed to pay a unsettling additional amount of fair simply to to be taken as far as the place where maybe, if we were lucky, we could catch the last gele to Soma. Fortunately, we were lucky, even luckier were we to sit in front of the only publicly intoxicated Muslim in the CRR. Last straw for me, or at least I thought. For when we finally arrived shortly after dusk, our only choice was to pay D75 for a town trip (a taxis usually about D5) to our friends village about 3K away. It was around that moment that we decided since PC would be picking her up soon, we would keep her company and avoid any more public transport with the hopes of getting a ride the rest of the way home with PC. Thankfully it worked out, so we probably ended up spending the equivalent, bribes and all, to what we would have spent going north bank, of course without all the excitement.

This week I've been settling back into the work routine. Last weekend, I hosted a little dinner party for some site mates. Complete with fresh ingredients like ginger and green peppers from the market, a street-roasted chicken and a couple of boxes of white wine. With the support group, we traveled to the village of Busura, where our farm land is, to poly-pot about 100 cashew seeds, later to be transplanted to start the cashew orchard. This week I also partook in the clinic OVC scene again, as well as participated in an ARV education workshop put on by the HBC program. I'm always pleasantly surprised to see the turn out of participants who come to further their education on living a healthier life-style, whether affected by HIV, TB or other ailments, despite the "per diem and lunch provided" mentality. At least people are getting the information through some capacity. I was also proud to see that several of my support group members are actively participating in anti-retro viral therapy. One of the criteria for Hands on Care to provide ARVs to patients is disclosure. Soon I am planning to talk to one of the sisters to see about taking on a patient in the HBC program. My role would be a volunteer to check up on a patient to make sure they and their care takers are adhering to their medical plan assigned to them by HOC.

I've received some really nice birthday cards in the mail from a handful of people. Of course I've already opened them even though it's not till next week. Thank you for all the kind thoughts and words. It appears the birthday party scheduled for next Friday is going to be a little more than a small gathering of site mates with cake and ice cream. Some friends from my health group are coming down from up country, so I'm really looking forward to that. Then the following weekend, the new education group swears in and officially, officially, we'll be in the rotation of non-new volunteers. I think the new agro-forestry group comes late September.

I think I've posted some new photos since the last time I posted a blog, so look at those if you get a chance. I miss you guys!

Brikama, Sweet Brikama

There's nothing like a trip to a foreign land to make you appreciate your home of annoying children asking for pens and minties, funny old women asking you to take them back to "America" and smart-alec young men asking for your hand in marriage by hissing at you to get your attention first. But alas, that is my home for the next two years and I was never happier to turn the corner of my neighborhood that is Suburban Gambia, to be greeted by my neighborhood children playing their neighborhood rope games, than upon returning from our security consolidation point in Senegal. My site mate and I were appointed security wardens for our area and we went on a trial run just to scope it out last week

Don't get me wrong, I was in good company with one of my site mates and even met some hospitable Senegalese PCVs, but it was quite a little adventure for just two days and I guess that's all it took for me to appreciate my little slice of home known to tourists as "the smiling coast" and to the rest of us PCVs as something that's not appropriate to post publicly.

So, you know how I was glamorizing the rainy season? That was before I got stuck in a flash flood, without my little red umbrella that I thought would weigh me down, at 6am walking from my friend's house to the PC office to meet my travel companion. Completely drenched, we waded through the flooded streets to catch a gele to Banjul, where we would catch a ferry to Barra, later crossing the border to Senegal, then a Set+ to our final destination, but I'm getting ahead of myself. After a few minutes of standing out in the rain waiting for a decent priced ride to the ferry, a sleek black Mercedes pulls up, dropping off a school girl and asking where we were going. We looked at each other, shrugged and thought, eh, there's two of us and it's raining, so we got in the back. The driver was pretty silent even though he had a passenger in the front, and the familiar sounding Arabic tune of the Koran played over the stereo. We asked to be dropped at the ferry (if he was going that far), but as we neared the gate, also a flooded sea of geles, cars and people, the sleek Mercedes parted through them, addressing multiple employees by their first names. So I asked the humble driver if he worked for Gambia Port Authority and he ever so tactfully responded with “I’m a recently retired Captain”. And with that joy ride, our adventure officially began.

Still pretty drenched, we boarded the ferry and for the first time since arriving in Gambia, I was actually cold.

Border towns. I always forget what they’re like. Maybe it’s because my mind doesn't want me to remember the stress and pain associated with them. Do you guys like cashews? I do. But not enough for the hassle it takes to fight off the extremely pushy cashew sales girls. I made the mistake of asking how much to one of the girls. Next thing I knew, I kid you not, about 15 young girls were shoving cashew bags in my face, putting them in my purse, balancing them on my head and even in the space between my sunglasses and face. Now, I really can’t blame them. Decades of tourism and lack of food on the table has made this street vendor market a game for these children. And now, here I was, a white “madam” (French is the official language), speaking a few words of Mandinka in Wolof land and bringing even more attention to myself and my friend over a bag of cashews! We finally exchanged money, got our exit and entry stamps and hopped on a Set+ (just a station wagon from probably the 70s or so), where, just in case we still had a craving for cashews, we were still granted the option of buying because at this point a new group of girls flooded our windows until we gained speed to about 15k/h.

A few hours later, after a pleasant car ride (despite a very large tree branch being cut loose and falling only meters from our passing vehicle) and good conversations, we arrived to our destination town. It made Brikama look like (insert any town you’d rather be in) because the moment I realized I would not be communicating with anyone, I longed for Brikama. We found our consolidation point and spent the rest of the evening visiting with a group of Senegalese PCVs. The dinner was homemade and the conversations, in between episodes of Grey’s Anatomy that I hadn’t even seen before, were intellectually stimulating.

The ride back was relieving-ly uneventful. Anyway, even though I had a pretty good time, it’s nice to be back and to sleep in my own bed.

Stay tuned for the Basse-bound birthday weekend… Yeah, I still work.

Great to hear from so many of you! I knew you guys were still out there and the support helps more than you may ever realize.

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Check out some new pictures and the YouTube link I put up. It has some scenes from Gambia.

Right. Does anyone still read this?

6 months. You guys were doing pretty good at first, but now I just feel like I'm writing to outer space! Of course writing all this is completely therapeutic for me, so I guess it doesn't matter if I'm writing it all for myself. But when it really comes down to it, I just need a little comment. Just an insy-winsy, tiny little "hi" to give me instant gratification. I mean, I have internet access, so there really is no excuse not to hear from you guys. And if you aren't tech-savy, take a lesson from Nana, and write me a letter! I think about you guys every day.


This week I'm planning on taking a trip to our safety consolidation point in Senegal. The point of the trip is to see where the people of my division (Western Divsion) would go in the case of an evacuation in Gambia. I was identified as the alternate warden so me and my site mate, who is is the warden of WD are making a 2 day trip out of it. I'll let you know how Senegal is.


Late next week those of us down country are heading up country for some birthday celebrating. I'm really looking forward to the long weekend we will make out of it, staying with friends from my health group along the way, and possibly the chance to see Kaddy, Momadu, Ebrima and Adama again.


Work is good. We had a board meeting last Sunday for Allatentu and decided to hold off on the Jaliba fundraising concert until after the 40 day charity for Fatou. I think it's now scheduled for Oct. 26th. We are getting funding from UNAIDS for the proposal I helped write for the rest of the calendar year. I'm excited about that news, but not really sure how to handle so much money. We don't have an accountant right now and I could see all this allocation of funds lying heavily on me, the white woman. Yikes. I'm not sure if I'm ready to help confirm the stereotype for the country where toubabs are the source of wealth, pens and of course, minties.


It's been raining more frequently, which has brought that smell in the air, which triggers memories of the States. I'm enjoying the way things look at the start of the rainy season, the sounds the rains make on the roofs and the care-free attitudes of my neighborhood children on the streets after the sands flood. I've never lived anywhere that only has two seasons, and I didn't realize how day after day of hot, hot sun- sunny days ALL THE TIME could actually have a negative impact on me. So, so far, I'm enjoying the 'other' season of Gambia. I went on a run for the first time in a week or so because my stomach has still been bothering me some and an afternoon storm had just finished and was still sprinkling like it does after a heavy storm and it was really nice.


Now it's time to pick on some of you...
Liddy B: Have you found a new apartment yet?

Marilina: How was the end of your semester and are you ready for year 2?

Erica: Send me a pic of Apache!


Mary: Will you get to meet up with Jim this summer?


Lisa: How's the Renegade Picture Show coming along? (Tell me something new that Summit has done this week)

Kathleen: I need the book after Ender's Game, STAT!

Sarah: What was the last thing you did to train for the triathlon?


Chris: What do you look like these days? Can you send me your mom's email address again?


Joe and Andrea: Don't you have an anniversary coming up/ How was your anniversary?

Mom and Dad: Really not sure what I would do with out you guys right now. So glad you too are healthy. Thanks for being who you are, which has helped me become who I am.

Sherwin: Did you ever get the present I bought for you over 6 months ago? It was pretty much one of those ends of the earth and back trip to get it in Kathleen's hands, so I really hope it is in your hands now.

Todd: Megan is trying to get a hold of you to give you money for the tree TV ad.

Jeanne and Jeff: Congrats again on the wedding!

Roscoe: Where's your ball?

Susie: Stop trying to eat chippies. They're way smaller than you and can't defend themselves.

Victoria's Pasta Shop: Please save a heaping portion of the make your own pasta: whole wheat linguine with spinach, sun-dried tomatoes and kalamata olives for a dedicated customer.

Dr. Phil: Did you send my "Self-Esteem Boost" program to the insurance companies yet?

I know I'm missing a lot of people, but this should get the ball rolling, eh? Don't worry, your time will come.

The grass is always greener...

when on the other side is sand. This proverb seemed only appropriate when, during the all vol weekend, we PCVs went to a BBQ dinner hosted by the Agro-forestry. Now, I must admit that I'm getting more used to walking into the occasional westernized compound and perhaps coming face to face with a small refrigerator. However, this time, it all but felt like we'd been transported into the set of that Big Brother TV show, when, after walking through a house set up like you'd find in the States (which look completely sterile to me at this point), I stepped off the back porch to a yard full of green grass. Now, you have to understand, the Gambia is to sand and concrete as the ocean is to water and waves.

The week is pretty much a blur now, but it was spent in great company with my training group friends who I used to see at least every week but haven't seen in 3 months. It was nice to see how everyone is adjusting, compare struggles and triumphs and just act like Americans in the company of other Americans for a few days. Now I know what PC all-volunteer and section meetings are like and feel like I've met the majority of the volunteers serving in Gambia. It was also interesting to be around those volunteers who were closing service; partly envying their finished duties, partly enjoying not having to look for a job for another 2 years. At the same time though, just as I anticipated, there was an unnecessary amount of stress that went with the disruption of my settling simplistic Brikama lifestyle. Having visitors stay with you in a developing country is not like entertaining in the States (though I do ultimately enjoy both, it's just more difficult at Camera Kunda). Instead of fretting over whether the roast and potatoes will be finished at the same time and which year of wine will taste best, you have to be concerned about whether everyone will have enough drinking water, especially when the sun light decides when the tap will be flowing. Then there's always the unwanted attention factor of not just one toubab walking through the car park, but a group of 3 or 4, which ultimately encourages the same response as what I would imagine it might be like for "Brangelina" to walk down any street in rural America. *SIDE NOTE: The other day I was riding in a Gele, dressed in a hat and sunglasses, when the boy next to me told me I "looked like this one PC named Mariama who lives in Brikama." I played along until he said he was my neighbor's brother, then I realized I'd most likey be seeing him again and gave in and introduced myself as Mariama as I exited the Gele. Living in this environment makes me re-think the glamorized idea that famous-ness presents to the layman.

But the strange part was I didn't realize how settled I've become until I returned to site and felt even more uprooted than if I had been moving to site for the very first time. It didn't help that soon after, I came down with what I realize now was Giardia for a good 4 days, thus was not able to get back into my work routine, which really does provide a good sense of purpose, hospitality and fulfillment. Furthermore, during the Giardia bout, I learned of the untimely death of one of our support group members. This amazingly strong-willed, compassionate and talented woman was the lead singer in our Allatentu Support Band. Her passing represents a lot and she will sincerely be missed.

In ways that I am not able to describe through words, the meaning of the work now seems somewhat different. Maybe it is because I was already feeling out of sorts before I was informed of her death, but all of a sudden, I feel burdened personally with issues that affect me morally and with issues that affect this country and the nature of the work, ethically. Fortunately and a little ironically, I have a pretty good support system and I realize the impotent thing is to keep physically and emotionally healthy because no one will benefit if those areas fail.

On that note, birthday parties are a great way to relieve stress, especially when they involve hunting for cake bakeries and only finding "topalopa" bakeries in Brikama, as was the way one of my site mates celebrated his.

********READ ME***********

And speaking of birthdays, my newest request is just an old fashioned birthday card with the old fashioned cold, hard cash. The reason being, $25 (which is what you get for turning 25 in my book) goes as far as buying the spice cake cake mix and cream cheese frosting they now sell at Kairaba super market!!!! and at least 4 boxes of primly aged wine- the "red" kind.

Birthday Wish List/ Pictures Posted

So what do you get the birthday girl who seems to have everything? Well, considering the closest Walgreens is probably an entire continent away, you've got quite a few options. Just in time for the 25th birthday coming up mid-August, I'm putting together a little wish list. Nothing would make me happier than opening birthday cards and eating Cripsy M&Ms (in the light blue package) on that day (or give or take a few weeks).

*Buying one of the Allatentu Support Band CDs from my mom

*Birthday cards and letters and photos

*Crispy M&Ms

*Mike and Ikes

*Extra Chewing Gum (in the blue package)

*Cliff Bars

*Dried Fruit

*Jane and Marie Claire magazines

*A package of pens

*Dry M&M cookie mix/ box Spice Cake mix with Cream Cheese frosting

*A chin-up bar for a door frame

I'll probably think of more later, so I'll let you know.

Also, I just wanted to give a shout out to my friends Lisa, Aaron and little Mr. Man. Did you guys used to live in the Gambia? Because you sure do know how to put together a care package!

Yesterday, a few of us Brikama-surrounding site mates got together for an afternoon of chatting and cold drinks at a "restaurant" in Brikama. It was really nice to feel apart of my surrounding (not so much how I feel when I go to Kombo and eat at a restaurant there). A few of my hospital co-workers passed by and gave the casual wave, then on my way home, I carried a gourd bowl on my head (the left one in the picture) and hit up a neighbor's Kuliyo (naming ceremony) where, even before I dropped some money in the pot, I was served Wanjo and called to eat SooSoo (the traditional Kuliyo feast).

Finishing up the UNAIDS proposal this week and preparing for guests before the All-Vol next week...more to come!