This is Good Bye!

So it's clearly been awhile since my last post. About a month ago, I ran into some computer troubles, so it was a bit difficult to blog. I am now back in the States, and just wanted to check back in and reflect a little on my experience. I have been home for about a week now, and find myself missing the Gambia at random moments. So, after just one week with my feet back on American soil, here are my top five favorite things about the Gambia:

1- Bush taxis! Don't tell me you didn't see that one coming.

2- Interacting with the women in our neighborhood, and with the adorable children.

3- Our landlord, Mohammed, and the young sisters who work at the house, Haddy and Sainabou.

4- Seeing or hearing Jammeh's motorcade at random times.

5- People saying sorry to me whenever I do something clumsy.

I can't do just five! I also miss the bright colors and fun music.

And, three things I learned:

1- A new kind of patience. Everything is a little bit unpredictable. Things never happen the easy way, and sometimes the way things do happen seems downright funny. You know in Blood Diamond, TIA (this is Africa)? Well, for someone with a Western background, its a reality, and a good lesson in patience, and in trying to look at a given situation from another point of view.

2- You can't judge individuals based on where they come from or the culture they have been ingrained with.

3- Personal space is nice, but not a necessity. Same goes for hot showers and all kinds of other creature comforts.

This is all I've got so soon on the heels of coming home. This will probably be my last blog post, and I just want to thank everyone for following along with me this semester!

Sierra Leone Highlights

I spent the past few days in Sierra Leone with a few other students on the trip. Traveling around the African continent isn't exactly like traveling around Europe, but we found reasonably priced tickets and made friends with the guys at the Sierra Leonian consulate, and off we went. Here are the highlights:

1- Driving around Freetown for two days in search of a waterfall and a national park. The first day, our taxi driver, Alhaji, was well-intentioned but didn't speak English or know where he was going. The second day our taxi driver, Abu, didn't like us any more than we liked him, probably did not have a driver's license, and didn't speak English or know where he was going.

2- Trying to follow the gist of conversations in Creole, which is a mixture of English, Portugese, French and African languages.

3- Staying on the Banana Islands, where we hiked in the rain forest, swam on secluded beaches, and ate fresh-caught fish and locally grown papaya.

4- Sleeping at a YMCA hostel. It really is fun to stay at the YMCA.

5- Realizing that its unacceptable to generalize about "African" traditions, "African" issues, or "African" culture. Africa is a huge and very diverse continent. Even in Sierra Leone, only about an hour plane ride from the Gambia, there are countless differences!

It was a fabulous trip, full of adventures, and made me want to travel all over the African continent!

Girl Talk

I'm pretty shameless in admitting that I'm a big feminist. So here I am in a developing country where women are often viewed as second-class citizens, and you can bet that I see a lot of things that get me more than a little fired up (though I try to keep my mouth shut the majority of the time). As a white women, though men often treat me like a one-way ticket to America, I am generally not treated as though I am stupid or my thoughts don't matter, or with complete disrespect. For the Gambian women, though, its not the same story.

I talked a little about Islam in another entry. There is a relative abundance of religious tolerance in the Gambia. Most Muslim women just wear headscarves, and some women choose not to cover their heads at all, although these women often face reproaches from Muslim men. Still, anytime you go to the market or some similar, busy place, you are likely to see at least a couple of women in Burkas, veiled in black with only their eyes showing.

Today we toured an orphanage. The man who gave our tour told us that, upon reaching the age of fourteen, the young boys are sent to a youth camp, but the young girls stay at the orphanage and live in a separate house where they learn to cook and clean. When we asked why the girls are treated differently, he said that otherwise no one would want them as a wife. I just found it so sad that this was the most important goal in raising these girls.

Today we visited an orphanage where the assistant director assured us that all of the children receive education through secondary school. To try to reach the Millenium Development Goals, the Gambia is working hard to achieve universal primary education. In many families, if they cannot afford to send all of the children to school, only the boys will be educated. For this reason, Jammeh has instated a program in which he will pay for girls to attend school if their families cannot afford it. This phenomenon is very important, because it shows two things. First of all, the government is recognizing that, in order to achieve development, women need to be equal in Gambian society. Secondly, while this is beginning to be enforced on an institutional level, on a community and familial level women are still subservient.

Why is promoting women's rights such an important part of development? Its actually pretty simple. When women are empowered, they become responsible citizens who demand accountability from the government, people who are educated enough to read the newspaper, to think for themselves, and to vote responsibly. To empower women, all you have to do is educate them. Educate women on the same level as men, and they will enter into the workforce. You will have a more productive population. More people in the workforce equals more productivity, its relatively simple economics! These women will have economic power, which gives them autonomy from their husbands and fathers and thereby further empowers futures generations. Since they are more educated, these women will have fewer children - the fertility rate will fall. The women will exercise control over their own reproductive health and will choose to work rather than to have many children. This means that there will be more resources to spend on each child, and more money flowing back into the economy - it breaks the endless cycle of poverty. Finally, empowering women is crucial because they invest in the future of the nation. Women use the money they make to educate their children and to make sure they are healthy, whereas men are less likely to invest their money in these ways.

My development professor said that development is natural, that no one would put their own hand in scalding hot water. So I just want to know why any country would choose to treat half of their population in such a self-defeating manner?

Kabekel

Kabekel is a village about an hour and a half trip from our home near Banjul, located out past Brikama, and therefore considered rural. (Anything between Banjul and Brikama is considered to be in the city.) My friend Blair is volunteering at a public health organization, and made friends with a young man named Lamin who lives in Kabekel. We visited him last month and watched his football team play, met his famiy and had lunch. He invited us back on Saturday to take part in a big celebration.

Lamin belongs to the Jola, one of the less common ethnic groups in the Gambia, and the festival was a coming-of-age ceremony for young girls, most of them about eight years old. The girls had spent the last three weeks out in the bush with female elders, including Lamin's mother, learning about Jola tradition. Saturday the girls were coming back out of the bush to rejoin the community, and food, dancing and music were planned in celebration.

Blair, myself and Sarah made the journey out to Kabekel for the day. We spent the day eating, drinking ataya, learning to cook the Gambian way, holding people's babies and meeting one person after another. We also fought against the red ants who kept falling from the mango trees and trying to bite us, and gave a new football to Lamin's team, which they were very excited about. I especially enjoyed learning to cook. It isn't often that we get the opportunity to interact so much with Gambian women, and I love cooking. I learned to sift couscous, prepare onions for benechin with a mortar and pestle, and stir a huge pot of rice over an open fire. Soon before we had to head home, the girls came out of the bush. We followed everyone down to the village square, where there were lots of people, music and dancing! Lamin told us that the celebration would continue well into the night, and that the procession would take every girl back to her own compound, where her family would gather for a meal.

The ceremony was very interesting. We were obviously outsiders, as the only toubaubs in a huge Jola community gathering, but everyone was very welcoming and Lamin was very helpful and patient about answering our questions. There is definitely a difference, in general, between the interactions I have with Gambians here in the city and the more relaxed way of life out in the villages. It was a great learning experience and a fun day, and for anyone else studying in the Gambia or someplace similar, I would encourage them to embrace these sorts of opportunities.

Be Kind to Mankind

I saw this written on the front of a bush taxi, on the way home from visiting my friend Ayisha today. Ayisha is a UTG classmate, a Nigerian living in the Gambia, and she invited us out to her family compound for the afternoon.

On the ride to her compound we had to stop in the middle of the road because there was a throng of people making their way down it. Last time this happened to us, we had found ourselves in the middle of a funeral procession, but this time they were celebrating...something. We couldn't quite figure out the whole deal, but it had something to do with juju, and everyone was singing and playing instruments. Juju is supernatural power associated with witchcraft. You can read more about it here:

http://en.academic.ru/dic.nsf/enwiki/4155771

Anyways, when we got to Ayisha's compound, we met her family, watched MTV with Arabic subtitles on her flat screen television, and ate a nice lunch. It is very important to take good care of your house guests here. Ayisha didn't even sit down to visit with us until she was convinced we were full and hydrated. She made us two dishes and the best baobab juice I have had here. (Baobab juice is a smoothie-like juice drink, made by boiling the baobab, a kind of sour fruit.)

After lunch, we went around and met Ayisha's family. A family compound is where a large extended family lives together. Most Gambians live in large family compounds, especially out in the villages. All of Ayisha's father's brothers live in this compound with their two wives and all their children, and Ayisha considers all of her cousins as brothers and sisters. (It is a patriarchal, polygamous system.) It was very important for us to go into each house, sit down for a minute, and say hello to everyone.

After this we walked down to the market and Ayisha took us to the Gambian equivalent of FYE. Sarah and I have each developed a "favorite" song that we hear on the radio and walking down the street, so we asked the men who work there for a CD with these songs and whatever other Gambian music they would like to put on it. The young men at the shop made a playlist on their computer and burned us two copies of the CD, for 50 Dalasis (2 Dollars) each. I also bought the entire fifth season of Friends for the same price. -Not bad!

To hear my new favorite song, check out this link. It's actually by two Nigerian groups called Bracket and P Square, and the song is called "Yori Yori," which, as Ayisha explained to me, is a sort of slang that basically means the same thing as "you make my heart pitter patter" or "you give me butterflies in my stomach." Anyways, its catchy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cj1YP2Ydoys

I hope this video is alright. I can't get things to stream here, so I didn't watch it.

All Things Water

Water is a big deal here, and its not just because I live three miles from the beach. No, there's a lot more to it than that. There is, for example, the fact that there is a moat forming outside of our compound. Soon we are going to have to hire a donkey that we can ride across anytime we need to go anywhere. Why is this moat happening? Well, it turns out that one of the water supply lines in our neighborhood broke. The piping here is rubber, not steel, so it doesn't rust, but its pretty close to the surface of the ground, so it breaks often. Evidently, someone is going to come along and patch it up sometime soonish. But not replace it.

I'm not personally too worried about it though, because I don't drink tap water. It's kind of like Mexico that way here.

So the other thing people like to use water for is showering. The thing in the Gambia is, your showers tend to be on the cold side. And since the Gambia was colonized by the British, they also tend to be of the variety where the shower head is on a hose rather than attached to the wall. I'm really not sure what the Europeans were thinking.

This weekend I went on a little trek upriver. I live pretty close to the coast, and the city, but sometimes we venture out into the more rural areas. One thing you gain a whole new appreciation for, while in Africa, is indoor plumbing. In case you don't believe me, I'm serious. Traveling around here requires self-imposed dehydration, because if there's one thing you don't want to go trying out in third world countries, its gas station bathrooms. (We tried it. Trust me.)

We stayed at a pretty nifty camp at our trek upriver to Janjangbury. On the last morning, however, we all figured out that the water that we were showering and brushing our teeth in came (definitely unfiltered) out of the Gambia River. That would be all fine and good (we were camping, after all), except we established that our toilets also flushed to the same location.

Mmmmm.

But truly, this experience is giving me a whole new appreciation for infrastructure and plumbers. Its also fairly easy for me to sit here whining in my house that has running water and a big cooler of filtered water to drink, near the city where it probably wouldn't hurt me much if I decided to start drinking tap water anyways. There are plenty of Gambians out in the villages who pump and haul unsafe water from their wells, one bucket at a time. That, my friend, is a serious problem.

Birthday Schmirthday?

Birthdays really aren't a big deal here in Africa. That's because a lot of people have no idea how old they are! There aren't the same systems for keeping track of that as there are in America, and parents have too many children to remember how old all of them are.

Nevertheless, when it came time for my birthday during the semester here in the Gambia, I decided to keep it American and celebrate, especially since it was my 21st birthday, which of course also is more of a milestone in America than pretty much anywhere else in the world, especially here where there is no age limit for consuming alcohol, and where most people don't drink, being Muslim. (There are plenty of bars and restaurants operated by Europeans, and stores owned by Christian Lebanese, though).

So what do you do for a birthday in the Gambia? For mine, we decided to eat at Luigi's, an Italian restaurant owned by an Australian man. (He also rents some pretty nice suites out, if you ever decide to visit the Gambia). Anyways, the head chef at Luigi's, Lamin, is friends with our landlord and often comes over to cook dinner for us, so we decided to support his restaurant. Since we are in with the head chef, we got the star treatment, including a full tour and free pizza. On top of this, the owner plays a segment from Planet Earth every night, projecting it onto a big screen so you can watch while you eat. Since we have been deprived of television for the past few months, this was quite a treat. The food was delicious and the waiters even sang and brought me a cake with candles, American style! The waiter who cut the cake smashed a piece into my mouth as if we were getting married, which was a little perplexing, but hey, American traditions can be confusing.

Then we met our Professor at Churchill's, a bar owned by a Frenchman. It was JulBrew night at Churchill's. JulBrew is the only brewery in the Gambia, and they are having promotional nights with contests and prizes at bars around the Gambia. It was also karaoke night, and the Brits were out in full force--Lots of British people vacation here. Anyways, one of them dedicated American Pie to us and it was overall a fun time.

When we decided to leave, we all piled into the back of our Professor's car. There were four people in the back seat and four people in the trunk. This probably doesn't sound very safe, but traveling in the Gambia in general isn't very safe, so it didn't seem like it mattered. Unfortunately, the policeman at our first checkpoint (there are roadblocks and checkpoints everywhere here), must have been feeling a little bored and potentially also thought it would be nice to collect a bribe. So he made us get out of the trunk and get a cab, then hassled Prof until he handed over some Dalasis.

Definitely one of my most memorable birthdays. Thank you, Gambia.

What I Love About the Gambia

This weekend is our halfway point for our time here in the Gambia, and I just happened to also be feeling in a particularly bubbly, positive mood, so I thought I would write a blog regarding what I love about the Gambia.

Today Sarah and I tagged along with Blair to visit her friend, a public health worker named Lamin whom she met through her volunteer work. Lamin lives in a village out past Brikama, where the university is. Lamin turned out to be a great guy, and his family and everyone in the village were very kind to us. The village life is very peaceful compared to life here, closer to the city, and the people have a different way about them. We learned a little Jola, since that is Lamin's tribe/language, met his mother, who makes beautiful baskets from palms, drank ataya (really strong, sugary green tea) with his family, and ate benechin (a traditional Gambian dish), made by his cousin (or sister, not sure, as extended family is so important here it can get hazy). Lamin is a football (soccer) coach, and we went to watch their match as well!

Okay, so besides the experiences I had today, here is what I love about the Gambia:

--The people are truly very friendly, and helpful.

--Things are pretty convenient. Want more Africell minutes? Pick them up while you're waiting in line at the traffic light. Thirsty? Buy bagged water at the bush taxi station for 8 cents.

--I learn something new practically every day.

--Getting to take public transportation. I love public transportation (in America too).

--Getting to people watch and be amazed and surprised constantly.

--The music is definitely growing on me.

--Being forced to try new things that I never expected to like, and realizing I actually do like them. (ie, I now eat oatmeal for breakfast).

--Aerobics classes with Mr. Freedman.

--Ataya.

--Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches made with taapalaapa.

--The craft market.

--The kids are adorable.

--Random people speak French at me (even though most people here speak English--must be I look French or something), and I get to practice a little.

--The smell of the laundry detergent/the women's perfume (there are very few good smells here so these must be appreciated).

--Speaking Wolof with women I meet in the market or walking home.

--Getting to walk a lot of places.

And soon, mangoes!

Bush Taxi Shenanigans

Bush Taxi (noun)--1- a large van stripped of all its carpeting and with tight rows of poorly cushioned benches in place of seats

2- a form of transportation in the third world, equivalent to a bus or subway in the developed world

3- the best way to meet new people and fit in when visiting West Africa

Synonyms-- dangerous, pollutant, entertaining, sauna

If you want to live like the average Gambian, one of the simplest and most important things you can do is ride the bush taxi.

Every time we go out to the university we ride on the bush taxi. The university, which is in Brikama, is only 15 miles from home, but it takes between 45 minutes and an hour to get there between traffic and the nature of the bush taxi. The bush taxi is driven by one man and his helper, or apprentice, hangs out the window yelling their destination. Whenever there is someone standing alongside the road who would like to get into the bush taxi, the "apprenti" bangs on the side of the van and the driver swerves off to the shoulder so the new passenger can board.

The bush taxi is a great way to meet new people and there are always interesting experiences to be had. Last week we had the best bush taxi ride ever when the driver was on his last trip of the day and dropped us off right in front of the restaurant where we wanted to go for dinner. Sometimes we practice our Wolof by talking with the others on the bush taxi. Often there are women with very cute children on the bush taxi. Once a baby cried because she was afraid of my friend's white skin. Sometimes there are live animals on the bush taxi. Some members of our group have sat in close proximity to dead fish and live chickens, and just today I watched a hog-tied goat be roughly loaded on and off the top of the bush taxi. Yesterday I sat with my feet right on top of the engine and had to keep checking to be sure they weren't being scorched. When you set foot on a bush taxi the possibilities are endless. At just over a dollar round trip, you have to take what you can get.

Some people think the bush taxi is pretty dangerous. This is true, but there are surprisingly few accidents. I actually think the bush taxi drivers are quite skilled. They have to weave in and out of traffic all day long, and are certainly more alert than most drivers in the states (out of necessity). Relatively speaking, I am certainly safer on a bush taxi than I would be driving myself around the Gambia.

The apprenti also have a tough gig. It would be exhausting to hang out the window yelling at the top of your lungs. When the bush taxi is full and you can finally sit down, there usually isn't much of a seat left for you. Once the taxi is full you must quickly collect everyone's fares before someone gets off and you need to start advertising for a new customer to take their place. The fares vary depending on how far each passenger is going, and you have to figure out how to make change for everyone with whatever cash you have on you. It's also your responsibility to make sure that the driver stops whenever someone needs to get off. (And you do this all day long).

Riding the bush taxi is one of my favorite parts of the experience here. Even though its ridiculously hot and there is no personal space, you get to meet so many people. No one really bothers you, because if you are on the bush taxi you must just be a normal person (Peace Corps or a student), not a rich, naive tourist. Plus, its never boring (got to keep the adrenaline pumping) and I don't have to think about how expensive gas is. Not a bad deal!

Disclaimer: I enjoy people watching and am also a fan of taking the train, metro, subway, etc. Therefore not everyone may find the bush taxi experience as satisfying as I do.

Religious Life

One aspect of life here that is very different from home is religious. Ninety percent of the population in the Gambia is Muslim, so Islam inculcates the culture and daily life here. For example, sometimes I will wake up around 5:30 in the morning and hear the Muslim call to prayer. The call to prayer can be heard basically no matter where you are, and comes from loudspeakers attached to the mosques scattered across the countryside. Muslims must pray five times a day facing Mecca. People carry around prayer mats so that they can do this no matter where they are. Out at the university, I sometimes see students praying on their mats, and the aerobics instructor at the National Stadium takes a break to pray between classes. Coming from the United States, where prayer and religion are viewed as largely private experiences, this took some time for me to get used to.

In addition, Friday, not Sunday, is the holy day in Islam. On Friday afternoons around 2 PM, everyone is supposed to meet and pray together. The men pray inside the mosques and the women pray separately, outside or in the back. At the university, 2 PM classes on Fridays are pushed forward by half an hour to allow for prayers.

Here, as in many Muslim societies, women keep their heads covered. Many Muslims believe that the Qur'an, the holy text of Islam, teaches that women must keep themselves covered. This means that they need to cover their heads and wear modest clothing. In class one day, Dr. Nagengast asked one of the Muslim women if the American women were dressed inappropriately, and she said yes, we needed to be "covered." (Keep in mind that we are still dressed much more modestly here than we would be in the states. We don't wear clothes above the knee or low cut shirts.) Even though most of the women here wear head coverings, I am not sure that it is really a sign of oppression. Very few of the women wear Burkahs (which cover everything except for their eyes), and most of the head scarves are colorful and match the women's outfits. There are still women at the university, women who own businesses, and they can leave their homes and walk in the streets unaccompanied.

Islam is also part of the education system here. Some of the male students in my Drama and Society course attended Islamic school as children, where they learned to speak Arabic and were schooled in the Qur'an. Some children only go to Arabic school, and never learn how to read and write in English.

Although the Gambia is mainly Islam, there is still a very visible Christian community here, and Christians and Muslims live peaceably side by side. (In general, the Gambia is a very peaceful country in that people of different religions and tribes live together peacefully and have for many years, which is rather uncommon in Africa.) Many of the Christians who do live here are Roman Catholic, and I see a Catholic church in nearly every town we pass through. I attended mass a couple of weeks ago for Ash Wednesday. The service itself was the same as home, but only the readings and a couple of the songs were in English. The sermon, prayers, and the rest of the singing was in Wolof, so I didn't really understand what was going on. Still, everyone was very friendly and I will probably go back for Easter.

Getting Lost in the African Bush, aka Tendaba

I am finally somewhat recovered from our 3-day long upriver adventure. We had a long weekend as Thursday was Gambian Independence Day, so we took off for a nature camp at Tendaba, about 3 hours upriver. The drive was pretty intense, 1 hour on normal roads followed by 2 hours on incredibly bumpy unpaved roads. I spent half the trip sitting cocked up on my hipbone because I got the bush taxi seat over an exposed metal bar. After arriving at Tendaba we went on a 2 hour boat cruise (on basically a giant canoe with a sketchy motor on the back) on the Gambia River. It was beautiful and felt a bit like the Florida Everglades. We saw a variety of birds and much more vegetation than there is here, closer to the city and the coast. Then we had a very late, 3-course buffet style dinner. We all realized how much our stomachs had shrunk here when we attempted to eat this seemingly enormous (though, in American terms, perfectly acceptable), amount of food. Following dinner there was a music and dance performance. The Gambians from the Tendaba village came up to sing and play drums for us, and to teach us white people to dance like a Gambian. It was really fun once you stopped thinking about how ridiculous and out of place you probably looked. I made friends with one of the little girls, who was really adorable. I also met some teenage girls and a young woman who was my age. At the end we tipped them and they went back to the village.

Then we all went to sleep in our little huts. Belle and I realized that our ceiling light and fan weren't working in our hut, and were very impressed that the staff at the camp got them fixed before we went to bed. There was electricity at the camp for half of the day since it runs off of a generator. Our hut had a queen-size bed with a malaria net and a bathroom without a door on it. The bathroom had a really nice shower...the shower head came out of the ceiling, and if you showered in the afternoon the water was even lukewarm! There was also a slightly chlorinated pool at the camp, and I practiced my swimming skills a bit.

Friday morning we woke up very early to go on a nature hike with Nags. We ate a very British-style breakfast, bread with butter, jam, cheese, and hard-boiled eggs. As usual there was also tea and instant coffee available. Personally, I thought Nags was exaggerating about the nature of our little hike. I was expecting a long walk, maybe through the village or on some sort of flat trail (there aren't many hills in the Gambia). Therefore, I was not smart enough to wear any sneakers. It turned out that what was actually planned was a 10-mile hike, albeit on a trail, and what actually ensued was a 15-mile hike in which we got lost in the African bush.

The first part of the hike was really nice. There were some slight hills on the trail, and we saw a big monkey in the forest. Also we tried a baobab right off the tree. Baobab is a kind of dry fruit with a hard outer shell. It has a chalk consistency and if you suck on it, it is sour. People here often make juice out of it. After the first two thirds of the hike, we stopped for a little rest next to the river. Nags asked a nearby Gambian where the trail along the river, back to Tendaba was at. The man said that we could go that way but that there wasn't really a trail and he didn't recommend it. He thought maybe we should turn around and follow the trail back the way we had come. Evidently the Gambian kids who had followed us from the last village agreed, as they thought this would be a good time to leave us and go back home. Being the stupid Americans we are, we didn't listen to the natives. We pushed stubbornly forward with our logic that the shortest route home would be along the river, as this would form a triangle with the trails we had taken thus far. We figured that if we kept the radio tower near the Tendaba camp in sight and the Gambia River close enough to hear, we would be all right. For a while there was some semblance of a trail, but soon this ended and we were literally wading through the bush. I stayed near the back of the group, reasoning that this would decrease my chances of stepping on a huge poisonous snake. Every so often we would send someone up a hill to see how close we were to the river, then press forward. Fortunately we had some seasoned navigators with us, but Nags, who kept insisting that he knew where we were, was not one of them. Instead, he angered some baboons that we ran across, and found the skull of a bush pig, which he paraded around on a stick, Lord of the Flies style.

Still, this was all rather entertaining until we emerged on the other side of the bush to find a giant swamp-like area. To get back to Tendaba, we soon found that we had to cross the swamp. A brave few crossed the swamp immediately. The mud was more like quicksand, and these individuals were covered in it from head to toe. They kept losing their shoes in the mud and would sink in up to their waists! As more cautious-natured individuals, I and the rest of the group resolved to find a way around the swamp. This was unsuccessful, although we were able to find a route in which we only had to wade through knee-deep quicksand. I abandoned the idea of wearing shoes and waded through. Due to my inability to swim, I found the whole experience terrifying, but still made out better than the more adventurous members of the group, who had cut-up feet from stepping on a big bed of shells and were walking around in their underwear due to the massive amounts of mud stuck to their pants. Personally, I felt a bit like Pocahantas walking around Africa barefoot, with giant clumps of mud stuck to my feet (Note: I understand that Pocahantas actually lived in America, but this is still how I felt). The sun was beating down overhead, we were dehydrated, and we had managed to wade through standing freshwater, which my travel doctor had definitely advised me against.

When we returned to Tendaba (alive!) we did some first aid on the unfortunate members of the group who had encountered the shells. Nags bought us some cold sodas, presumably to make up for the disastrous nature of the outing (even though we all secretly loved it), and we were very grateful for the lunch buffet. We spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around on the dock, reading, talking, and drinking wine. (We deserved it after the debacle that morning). We stayed one more night at Tendaba and repeated the bumpy journey home, except it was more miserable as we were all dehydrated from our little adventure, and/or had not gotten along so well with the food at the camp. Nevertheless, it was a fun weekend and we are all excited to go upriver again. Next time we will be taking the ferry across and traveling up the southern bank, so expect more stories!

Volunteer Time!

One of the main things I am doing here, besides venturing out to class and laying out on the beach, is volunteering. I mentioned this last time but I thought I should go into more detail. I found my volunteer job through one of my professors at the university. She is an acrobat, and teaches gymnastics classes at the SBEC International School. She took myself and one of the other students there with her, and we met with the administrators and discussed our majors and interests. Then the school tried to match these up with an unmet need they had.

SBEC is a private bilingual school, and 30 percent of the students are international. The students call the women who work there "Auntie," which is a pretty typical term for young people here to call pretty much any woman in a mentoring role, and which always gives me a warm fuzzy feeling.

I spend my time there designing workshops to teach the faculty and administration how to handle conflicts in the classroom and among themselves more effectively. The first workshop I am planning is all about communication and conflict. I am going to talk about body language and using I-statements, among other things. I am also going to be teaching some classes. On Thursday i taught third graders about national parks and about what conflict is, and then we did an example about conflicts in national parks. It was very rewarding and I actually enjoyed teaching more than I expected!

At school the other day, I was offered a snack. It came in a little baggy and looked like croutons, but tasted like shortbread cookies. It is called chin-chin. A man goes around selling these treats at the school, and the kids get very excited, like they would about an ice cream truck in America.

So far I am finding my experience out at the school to be very interesting and rewarding. Since it is French/English bilingual, all the French I am exposed to will hopefully help me to improve my own French skills. I also have a lot of independence and my ideas and thoughts are taken very seriously by the teachers and administrators. They often ask my opinion about problems with students or even ask me to assist in situations, which is really helping me to feel more comfortable with thinking on my feet. On the downside, it can be stressful because I feel like they ascribe me more expertise than I actually have. Also, sometimes I have to force myself to sit around and just visit with the teachers, because I realize that I am working harder than the people who are actually getting paid to be there!

Getting Into a Routine

Last week I started my volunteer work and classes officially got up and going. I am taking four classes at the university and a cultural class through the program. I have International Human Rights Systems, Drama and Society, French Translation, and Sustainable Development. For our cultural class we go on field trips, have guest speakers, and learn Wolof. So far my most difficult class is Drama and Society, because I have to do a lot of public speaking (eek), and my most interesting class is Human Rights, because the Gambians tend to have very different conceptions of many aspects of human rights than Westerners do. I only go to class on Tuesdays and Fridays, since it is an hour trip out to the university and an hour back.

On Mondays and Thursdays, I do volunteer work. I am working at the SBEC International School. Because I do a lot with peace and conflict studies back at Juniata, the school asked me if I would help develop a conflict resolution program for the high school. Based on my startling amount of independence, I am thinking my title should be "Founder and Director of Conflict Resolution Program." Everyone trusts me and thinks I am some sort of expert, although I have tried to explain that I am just a student and have no certifications. So far I am getting great experience with thinking on my feet and "faking it until I make it." The administrators want me to help mediate conflicts between students and develop workshops for the teachers to better handle conflict in their classrooms. We'll see how it goes! Then on Thursday evenings, I am also helping with an English conversational class. It is pretty difficult teaching English to people when you don't speak their language well enough to explain what it is you are teaching them. This also should be an interesting challenge. I think it will be very rewarding to help someone learn English. For example, my student last Thursday knows two or three tribal languages, but learning English can help him to get a better job. Hopefully I will be a good teacher!

My New American Cultural Awareness

So everyone says that the more you learn about other cultures, the more insight you have into your own. Today, I was sitting in class and started considering all of the things I am coming to see about American culture since being here. As I followed a group of Gambian students today, and had to force myself to slow down, it occurred to me how much of a hurry Americans are always in, how fast we walk everywhere we go. As the students moved to one side to let me pass, one smiled and asked me "Are you okay?" Everyone here asks you if you are okay, people on the street, people you don't even know. Americans don't usually worry about the well-being of strangers they pass in their day-to-day life, and they certainly don't smile as much. Here, I feel rude if I keep to myself on the bush taxi instead of having a conversation with whoever I am sitting next to. That's the other thing I noticed on the bush taxis, how much personal space Americans prefer to have. Once, I was on vacation at Niagara Falls and found myself sitting next to an Indian woman on the bus. I was very uncomfortable with how close she sat to me, and how little personal space I had. But here everyone is like that, and you just have to accept it. As I get used to it, I find it almost comforting that there are places in the world where strangers are not held at a distance.

Some of my other observations on Americans (or at least on myself as an American):

1- We like schedules, planning ahead, and having things laid out in black and white. One of my professors today negotiated with the class as to the best way to set up the project that we will be doing. To me, the lack of clarity was overwhelming, and I wished that she would just hand us a syllabus with everything laid out neatly.

2- Americans aren't all that helpful. Now, I know there are plenty of helpful Americans, but I have truly been shocked by how helpful strangers have been to me as a foreigner here. I honestly don't think this would be so true were the roles reversed.

3- Americans eat a lot. All the time. Especially dairy and chocolate. I observe this because I am always hungry here and am seriously craving a Hershey bar and a big hunk of cheese.

I'm not saying that American culture is "good" and Gambian culture is "bad," or vice versa. Obviously, they are just different, and people will have varying perspectives on how positive or negative the differing aspects of any two given cultures are. However, I do think its beneficial to think about the norms in American culture and see how they affect my own behavior and what I am comfortable with.

5 Highs and 5 Lows This Week

Highs:

1- Riding in a bush taxi next to a woman with an adorable baby on her lap, and playing peek-a-boo with it. It turns out that makes babies everywhere smile.

2- Eating Domado, which is basically a variation on peanut sauce. The lady at the restaurant told us the sauce is made from peanut butter, tomato paste, and pepper, and you can put it over rice. It's a little spicy and super delicious!

3- Touching a monkey...need I say more?!

4- Getting shown around campus by a bunch of really friendly and patient Gambian students.

5- Aerobics classes with local Gambian women and Mr. Freeman, our instructor who for some reason has a German accent and yells at us like some sort of military commander.

Lows:

1- Eating with our fingers at a true hole-in-the wall Gambian restaurant because we didn't expect to be given silverware, and then the lady asked us if we would like some forks.

2- Saying Asalaamaleekum (hello) to some young girls, and being super proud that I spoke Woloff, but then getting laughed at instead of receiving the appropriate response (Maleekumsalaam).

3- Riding on the bush taxi with a live chicken.

4- Every night at approximately 4 AM, the rooster that lives next door. It sounds like a whaling person, and someone really needs to do something about it.

5- Trying to explain to the woman at the Tapalapa stand that I just wanted plain Tapalapa, and watching in horror as instead she glopped a bunch of fishy stuff on top of it.

It's okay though, because the lows are among the most memorable moments, and every single misunderstanding and embarrassing moment is a learning experience and has supplied plenty of laughs for myself and the rest of the group.

First Impressions

I have been in Africa now for just over a week, and I love it already! We flew into Dakar, Senegal early last Tuesday morning, and stayed at Pink Lake, a beautiful resort just outside of the city. Driving into Dakar in the darkness of the early morning hours, I was amazed to see that I was surrounded by buildings and cars, and also in awe by the sheer volume of people everywhere. I had a scare within the first hour, I was in the front passenger seat of our van and had a birds-eye view of the incredibly dangerous driving conditions. Cars passed each other on either side, honking their horns at anyone who was in their way, leaving just inches between vehicles. Incredibly, we didn't see any accidents or fender-benders along the way!

In Senegal, we visited a village and the chief took us for a tour. Unlike most places we had been, the adults in the village asked that we did not give anything to the children, as they felt this would discourage them from finishing school and working hard to be successful on their own. Instead, the children held onto our hands and walked along with us as we used our meager French skills to ask them their names. In Senegal, most people speak French as well as at least one tribal language. Seeing people, even people with very little education, who can speak so many languages, makes me feel that we as Americans are pretty selfish, thinking that or language is the only one that we need to know. It is as if we are saying that our language is the most important, and anyone who needs or wants to communicate must accommodate us rather than vice versa.

After a couple of days in Senegal, we made the trip into the Gambia. If you look on a map, the Gambia is almost completely surrounded by Senegal, except on the side where it borders the Atlantic Ocean. Crossing into the Gambia, we immediately noticed that people were friendlier and not as pushy about asking us to buy things. As an example, in Senegal, while waiting for our visas, our bus was surrounded by people trying to sell us cashews. No matter how many times you said no thank you, they kept trying to convince us to buy cashews. When we drove into the Gambia, people were much more easy-going. The main language in the Gambia is English, so communication is very easy. However, most Gambians know a couple of other languages as well, such as Mandinka, Wolof, or Fula, which are tribal languages. Wolof is the language of commerce, so almost everyone knows it, and we will be taking lessons in it while we are here.

In the Gambia, we live in a very nice house, with four bedrooms and three bathrooms for seven people. Our resident director, Muhammad, lives in smaller quarters behind the house, as do the one male student on the trip and the two young women who work in the house. The house and servant's quarters are all in a compound surrounded by a wall, in a middle class neighborhood outside of Banjul, the capital city of the Gambia. In Africa, anyone with enough money puts a wall around their house to make it into a compound, so that they can keep out unwanted visitors. Having a wall around your compound is a symbol of status and money.

Our house is very nice. It is cool enough inside and closed up well enough that we do not even need to sleep with malaria nets over our beds. There is running water and a fully functional kitchen, electric lighting and ceiling fans. There is also wireless internet access. Internet and electricity often go out unexpectedly here, but when it is working it is rather fast. Probably the most complicated thing is showering. There isn't warm water, so we shower with cold water, and the shower faucets are on a hose as opposed to attached to the wall. It is not quite the luxury as at home, but still much better than hauling water from a well to take a bath!

Muhammad cooks us dinner every night. He is Nigerian and has lived in America, and so cooks us food that is a combination of Nigerian an American food. He is an amazing chef, and it is nice to have a hot, safe meal to come home to at the end of every day! Mealtimes here are different than in America, breakfast is whenever you get up in the morning, but lunch is not usually until at least 2 PM, and dinner is between 7 and 8 PM. Some of the main foods we eat are rice and bread, including a special type of bread known as tapalapa. Tapalapa bread is made into sandwiches at lunch time, and you can buy them for 12 Dalasis, or 50 cents, with eggs, fish, or beans inside, like a sandwich (really delicious, and cheap!). Gambians also eat a lot of fish, chicken, eggs, and ground nuts, or peanuts, which are a huge export here. There are also a lot of fresh fruit and vegetables available.

One thing that is very easy in the Gambia is meeting new people. Gambians are by nature very laid-back and friendly people. When you are walking down the street, everyone tends to wave and say hello, even ask you how you are doing. With each day we are here, we are learning more about how things work, and people are seeing us less as tourists and we are being mistaken more often instead as Peace Corps volunteers or teachers (a huge compliment!). Yesterday, out at the university, we met a woman who was sitting at a fruit stand. She was holding a baby, and she called myself and two other girls over. She asked us to hold the baby and then she even showed us how women here tie the baby with cloth so that they can carry them on their backs. It is definitely strange being in a place where you stand out no matter where you go. There is really no way of knowing why this woman wanted us to hold her baby, but we have heard that some Africans believe that white people are lucky, or have special powers, and that by touching us you can receive the same gifts. This certainly makes sense based on my experiences so far--everywhere you go people want to shake your hand, or even if you are just walking along the road, schoolchildren who are also walking will hold your hands. Regardless, it is refreshing to be in a place where people are so open and welcoming!

The Gambia is a pretty poor country, but when we are talking to locals, and you know, it is obvious that we are not from here, they ask where we are from, how long we will be here, etc., but then they almost always say--Gambia is nice, eh? You like it here! And of course they are right, the people are friendly, the weather is beautiful, and I am learning new things every day. I think this is a lot different from the US, where we often forget about the many wonderful things there are to be proud of in our country, and the many reasons that anyone would be happy to visit.

There is a lot more to write about but I think that is enough for today! Thanks for reading and if you have any questions let me know.