What you’re really interested in:

As per usual, I neglected to write about anything I took picture of. So here are pictures w/ a few words.

The ducks and a chicken hanging out by the combo duck/chicken house. The left side is for the chickens, the right side is for the ducks.


A shot of my backyard with my bed and my dog.

Pondo trying to stay cool during the afternoon heat.

Adrian at the Sarebojo Lumo 'Parking Lot.' The Sarebojo Lumo is like the Mall of America of Gambian Lumos.

The Gambia or New Mexico?

Pondo!



The boys sitting in the dog crate I got from Rachel. The must have sat in it for almost 1/2 hr!

The scorpion that live in my bathroom- but I only see it at night.

The Bokashi Experiment

One of the things I’m trying out in village is Bokashi Composting. (http://www.reap-canada.com/bio_and_climate_3_4.htm)
I ventured out into the bush with my hoe, my dog, and the obligatory small boy. This small boy, however, is very small, almost 3. Omar is (I guess) my nephew and really wanted to go out to the bush. After we found his shoes and shirt we were ready to go. Since he’s so strong he carried the hoe.
We had a great time going out and looking under trees for the special worm casting dirt I need. Omar is a very good helper, and always informed me when Pondo ran off to do his puppy thing. And I got worm dirt.
We came back and broke up the dirt. Omar helped me mix it with the coos bran I had acquired earlier. He helped pour the water and make a nice muddy mess. That’s one thing 3 year olds are good at.
I made the plant juice the same day, and it’s busy fermenting in my hut.
The worm dirt mix molded like it was supposed to, and now it’s hanging in my backyard ¾ submerged in a bucket of sugar water.
After the juices are ready, I’ll add them to the compost pile and mix it up. I think we’ll try and use the compost and juice on the field behind the compound, and try is on an area of the peanut field we’re going to plant.

Now it’s time to REALLY get excited!

Ah, America! Sweet land of liberty!
I’m coming home! (Just for a visit!)
I’ll be home from July 11th to Aug 1st.
I want to a) see you (yep- you!); b) eat delicious food; c) spend some Quality Colorado Time
As of now now, I think I’ll be presenting something or other about The Gambia and Peace Corps including pictures and stories at the church, but everyone is welcome to come, and more details to follow.
Also, I’m a little monopolized by participation in a wedding, but I will do everything I can to see everyone, so if you can be flexible I can be flexible.
Unfortunately, I can’t bring Pondo, so you won’t be able to meet him yet.
So that’s what I’m looking forward to and I’m really, really excited about!
I hope to see you in July!

These Things Happen… Part 3: Conclusion

I had left for a meeting and returned to village the day before the President’s visit. I went to the skill center to help with the last minute cleaning and preparations. On my way, I passed a man who had been working long hours to prepare the village. I stopped to greet him:
-What’s happening tomorrow!?
-What?
-President Jammeh is visiting!
-Oh, you did not hear. He cannot come now.
-What?
-Yes, they inform us today that he will not be able to stop.
-Ok. What about the banner we made?
-Oh, they say we should wave it on the road as he drives by.
Am I surprised? No. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the Gambia is not to believe anything until I see it happen. And then it’s still questionable. Am I disappointed? Yes. The villagers really came together to present the best of themselves, to show how hard they’ve been working and were really proud of being noticed by the president and national staff. The result of their hard work: A black hummer driving by without slowing and throwing packages of biscuits.
In The Gambia, these things happen. The effect on village self-esteem is visible. Here it’s unsafe to get excited about sharing your accomplishments. It’s best to save that excitement for a package of 15 dalasi stale biscuits.
But, in The Gambia, these things happen, and my work continues. And I’m beginning to see why it’s so hard.

These Things Happen… Part 2: Preparations

The skill center was a flurry of excitement.
Cleaning, painting, and organizing! Everything must be perfect for the president’s visit! The Skill Center should look its best and showcase all the hard work the village does there. Examples from the Women’s Literacy Classes were written on the chalkboard. New tie-dye was made especially for the president. Two kinds of soap and lotion were prepared. Ices and water were chilled and frozen in the solar powered fridge. The Mobile Charging Room was organized. And the ‘crown jewel’ of the center, the looms were set with bright threads and women assigned to weave as the president was touring the center.
Elsewhere in the village, the school children busily cleaned the school grounds and made Gambian flags to wave. The road was improved for the presidents’ motorcade, weeds removed and trees trimmed.
My village was looking sharp!
I spent an afternoon assisting several of the men making a Welcome! banner to hang over the skill center. We carefully centered the hand-cut stencils, and painted the letters bright green.
Welcome
His Excellency
To
Mariama Jammeh
Multi Purpose Center
Hella Kunda

We waited hours on the roadside for the convoy to pass on its way to Basse. We would be entertaining the president on his return to the capital.
The school children sat in a line waving handmade flags and waiting. As the time dragged on and the convoy had not arrived, I decided to try and share some American Culture with the village.
-Ok, when I run past you stand up. Then you sit down.
A simple request, I even managed it in Mandinka.
As I ran down the row of kids, some stood; some tried to follow, but most just looked at me with a confused expression. The women on the other side of the road laughed.
-Ok, let’s try this again. When I run past, you stand up, raise your arms, and then sit down right away.
By the time the motorcade began to drive by, we had figured out the fundamentals of The Wave. It will take refining, but I feel I’ve shared a valuable piece of American Culture with The Gambia.
As the motorcade drove by for the next ½ hour, dozens of cars representing every branch of the government, NGO’s and the military preceded the President. Finally the black stretch Hummers passed and packages of biscuits flew through the air. As the Hummers carrying Jammeh continued to Basse, Hella Kunda life returned to normal, but the anticipation of his return was in the air.

These Things Happen… Part 1: Exciting News In Village!

-Is she here yet?
-No, she’s at the ferry crossing.
-What! She won’t be here for hours!
-Yes, but it’s very important. She usually never come to the URR.
-Ok, I will return in the evening.
As night fell in the village, the women wait eagerly at the skill center. They are dressed in fine clothes, with drums and whistles. Chatting quickly and breaking into impromptu song and dance they wait for an important guest to arrive.
Finally, after night has fallen and I had almost given up hope, a car arrives!
Maria has come!
The women mob Maria and her companions, singing and dancing! The drum beats out a complex rhythm and Maria is carried into the skill center in the midst of the crowd.
As the women settle onto benches line the walls, Maria and her companions start to speak in Mandinka. Our VDC Chairman translates into Pulaar, and although two languages are being spoken, I have almost no idea what’s going on.
Greetings and introductions are made, and the speech goes on. The village women are all happy, smiling and clapping. At one point they break out into song, and the village griot (singer) sings a special song for the occasion.
Soon, the speaking is over, and the joyous crowd celebrates.
But what were they celebrating?
Now I get to meet Maria, the national Project Manager for the Skill Centers. Maria is finely dressed in a tie-dye dress, but looks worn out and tired as though she has been on the road all day. She greets me warmly and informs me that my village has been chosen for a visit from the president while on his annual tour of the country. Now I see why everyone is so excited!
After a brief meal, Maria is whisked away to her next stop. The women filter back to their compounds to eat dinner and share the exciting news with their families: On May 16th, President Jammeh is coming to visit!

Going Black

For my most recent fake hair (weave) I decided to really try to integrate.
I went black.
With, for style purposes, red and blonde mixed in.
I’ve always been blonde.
I never dyed my hair, preferring to keep my natural, God-given color.
But, in The Gambia changing your hair color is a simple and temporary process, albeit painful at times!
My preferred style is known as ‘Rasta,’ many long small braids that look similar to dreadlocks.
My friend Sunkuta did my braids, and over two afternoons we sat under the mango tree as she twisted my hair into submission. The weave has to be wrapped very tightly around your hair to stay, and Sunkuta wraps very tightly.
Looking at my new black hair I felt like a different person. As per usual, the villagers loved it, and complemented me on my hair whenever we greeted for the next week.
I enjoyed my black hair for 3 weeks, but I did not anticipate just how hot long fake hair is, and took it out. I’m back to blonde now, and my head is a lot cooler. I gave my used hair to Fatou so she can use it later, but I’m sure I’ll try it again once it gets a little cooler…(In the pic I do have my black hair, but it's pulled back, sorry... but me and Fatou!)

Mango Rain

I didn’t realize when people talk about ‘mango rain’ that they are literally talking about mangos raining! Or at least that’s what I’ve been experiencing…
The mango tree in my backyard has had mangos growing for months. But weren’t ripe!
Until now.
As they ripen, the mangos fall off the tree.
It started slowly. One or two a day. I was excited and eagerly ate them.
Then, the real rain started.
Mangos fell all the time. 10, 20 per day.
At night in my bed I would hear mangos falling, crashing through the leaves and dropping with a small ‘thud’ to the bare dirt.
My morning routine included picking up mangos, eating three or four, and sharing the rest with my family.
The rain continued.
Now they fall too fast to eat, too many to pick up!
I got hit by a falling mango sitting on my bed. It’s gotten out of control.
The fruit flies abound and rotting mangos fill my compost.
But perfect, ripe, sweet mangos still fall.I take the best, compost the rest, and enjoy my first mango rains.

On Using My Brain:

I had a bit of a think:
Neem is a locally available tree that grows like a weed.
Neem is a local insect repellent.
The season is hot and dry.
Compost should be hot and moist with few insects (like no termites!).
Why not use neem as mulch for my compost to hold in moisture and repel insects!
*Lightbulb!*
Using my razor sharp machete I annihilated small saplings from the bush and ruthlessly chopped them into fine mulch.
I lavishly spread the new Super Mulch over my compost and soil piles.
And I’m not sure if it kept the insects away, but the water retention has been great.
Result: Success!

Cashews and Coming Home

When we last left our hero (me) I was going back to my village after training and going back to the fiery furnace known as the Upper River Region. The story continues…
My gelly (bush taxi) ride took 10 hrs; it never goes well when the gelly repeatedly breaks down and has to stop so the vehicle can rest. But I eventually made it back to my village and was warmly greeted and had not been quickly forgotten as I feared.
My momentum was temporarily halted by a quick trip to Basse the next day, but on the plus side I got a sweet Barak Obama t-shirt and some fake hair. (That sounds absurd. Sometimes I wish I was making these things up!)
During the next few days I was inspired, pumped up, ready to go, bringing the advantages of training and the sharing vast catalogue of Peace Corps knowledge with everyone I met. The main point is, Fatou and I planted trees!
Using my composted soil that has been slowly transforming since January, I filled 54 re-claimed bags to use as polypots. Polypots are the ‘pots’ used to start the seedlings before they are ‘out planted’ into the wide world after several months growth.
24 hrs later Fatou and I planted almost 70 seeds and watered them. Now just wait for the magic to happen. The next day nothing had sprouted and a quelled my disappointment with the knowledge that the AgFo Manual says they won’t sprout for 10-15 days. Apparently my seeds are not unusual in that aspect.
I’ll have to be patient and let nature take its course.