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.