July was a whirlwind month, to say the least! I spent only two days in Hella Kunda the whole month! Yikes!
At the end of June my group of Ag-Fo’s had our reconnect conference. For three days we talked about projects, the challenges and successes we’ve had, and our plans for going forward. At this point in our service we are done with Three Month Challenge and In Service Training. It’s the end of the hot season and the rains are fast approaching; upcountry they have already started!
Personally, I was at a low point on the roller coaster of service. My projects weren’t really projects, and I didn’t really feel like I was using anything I went to school for. Here I am, a forestry volunteer, not doing anything with a forest. What’s going on? I’ve promised myself that over the next year I’m going to find my sense of humor and joy again. I’m going to be an optimist and stop being so cynical. I’m surprised that my goals for the next year have so little to do with ‘work’ and my village, but living here has (at this point) made a negative impact on me, and who I want to be. So, if I can use work to regain these aspects of myself, all the better. It turns out I will not be saving the world as originally planned, but I think that’s ok.
Also at reconnect I took a language test. My current level is Advanced-Low. That means I can muddle through conversations and people can kind of understand what I’m saying, but I have a ways to go. It also means I’m improving (which I already knew) from my last test before swear in. I’m able to talk with my host family and joke with my host wife.
After reconnect I participated in the first Peace Corps/The Gambia Beer Pong Tournament. And lost in the first round.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Special Guest Appearance
For the last few months the baby, Amadou hasn’t been gaining weight. He is starting to eat solid food and breast milk just isn’t enough. This really concerns me; is it so important to maintain a healthy weight and proper nutrition for the first five years of a child’s life. Child mortality is a huge problem in the developing world. Children are more susceptible to malaria and other potentially dangerous diseases. So what can I, an Ag-Fo Volunteer do? Should I feed this child myself? Lecture my family on proper nutrition when I know that it’s a challenge to put rice in the bowl some month? Both those options didn’t really feel like options. In some cross-sectoral project work, I brought in my friend and local Health and Community Development Volunteer Marnie to assist me with a demonstration.
We coordinated with the village women’s group to pick an afternoon to gather at my family compound. Marnie and I demonstrated a version of Pap, which is baby gruel/porridge. The demonstration became a great social event, and over 20 women came with their children. Everyone loved Marnie, and joked with her in mandinka. Her presence made the demo more legitimate, since she works with the hospital. I’m sure the women were impressed that I brought in an expert.
As per usual, the women know how do make the pap, and what age to start feeding at. So why don’t they do it? I think the overarching reason is that it’s difficult to use a new method. At first it requires extra work to make pap, and the baby is the only person to eat the food, so it’s not very versatile. We discussed teaming up with another woman to trade off making pap everyday, to lighten the load. Also, the cost and availability of ingredients can be prohibitive. All the ingredients are usually available, and inexpensive, but it becomes another cost that a family may not have the budget for. At this point I am trying to really push my family to make and use pap, both to serve as an example for the village and, more importantly get Amadou healthy!
We coordinated with the village women’s group to pick an afternoon to gather at my family compound. Marnie and I demonstrated a version of Pap, which is baby gruel/porridge. The demonstration became a great social event, and over 20 women came with their children. Everyone loved Marnie, and joked with her in mandinka. Her presence made the demo more legitimate, since she works with the hospital. I’m sure the women were impressed that I brought in an expert.
As per usual, the women know how do make the pap, and what age to start feeding at. So why don’t they do it? I think the overarching reason is that it’s difficult to use a new method. At first it requires extra work to make pap, and the baby is the only person to eat the food, so it’s not very versatile. We discussed teaming up with another woman to trade off making pap everyday, to lighten the load. Also, the cost and availability of ingredients can be prohibitive. All the ingredients are usually available, and inexpensive, but it becomes another cost that a family may not have the budget for. At this point I am trying to really push my family to make and use pap, both to serve as an example for the village and, more importantly get Amadou healthy!
Monday, June 15, 2009
Cleaning Out
Fatou has a peanut (groundnut) field. Only right now it’s just bush. This series of events shows just how much I have left to learn and understand about living in The Gambia and working in the culture.
1. At the beginning of June I go with Fatou and others to look at the field she’s been given to plant groundnuts on. It’s big, and right on the side of the road, just outside the village. It’s already cleared and I’m excited for the possibilities. Maybe we can intercrop and plant cashews along the borders…
2. The next week that field is out. Apparently, it has a problem with erosion… and the soil is not good. So… what exactly am I here for? This seems right up my alley… No? Ok. I’ll just go along for this ride as long as it takes me.
3. The new field is in the bush. It is, in fact, bush. As in covered in tree-things and bushes and brush. Someone burned it earlier in the year, so all the trees are covered in soot. And it’s our job to clear it. By hand, obvi. Ok. Break out the machete and gloves and get to work. Just ignore the fact that you’re clearing more land for agriculture, creating a place that in two to four years will be as barren as the original field is now. Just push that thought right out of your mind.
4. The family works together to clear the land. I actually enjoy the work. I’m sweating because I’m using muscles, not just being hot. But I still, I can’t stop thinking… what am I here for? What do they think I’m here for?
5. On our way back from the field I ask Chinese ‘What do you think I’m here for?’ let’s just get this out in the open… I’m not very tactful anyway, why start now?
6. He says (paraphrasing) ‘I think you’re here to do mango grafting. And you said you know about bush fire. And maybe gardening.” Ok. Sweet. I think there have been some, uh, communication challenges. I have clearly failed to let him know what I can help with. I guess he’s not a mind reader.
7. With this new revelation in mind I tried to explain what I can help with; that it’s not limited to mango grafting (which I know almost nothing about, but that’s neither here nor there) and gardening. And that I haven’t said anything before, because I didn’t want to stroll in and start bossing everyone around and insulting their way of life without understanding it. In short, I’ve been waiting for people to ask me for assistance. BUT, Chinese hasn’t asked for help because he didn’t exactly know what I know, because agriculture is such a broad subject, and because in his culture people don’t really ask for help (Based on my observations this is only partially true, people are not shy about asking for ‘financial help.’) So he’s not culturally supposed to ask for help, and I’m not supposed to be culturally insensitive by assuming that I know a better way to do everything.
8. Based on our conversation, I’m going to try to be more aware of areas that I can help, and informing people (maybe even tactfully) that I may be able to assist. And Chinese says he’ll ask for help more often in the future. This could be a great compromise, and I think I understand a little more about where Gambians are coming from.
We finished clearing the field, and have talked about intercropping in the small field behind the compound. I suggested beans, corn and squash. Chinese was also open to the idea of planting cashews in a border around the same field. I think we’re making progress, slowly slowly.
1. At the beginning of June I go with Fatou and others to look at the field she’s been given to plant groundnuts on. It’s big, and right on the side of the road, just outside the village. It’s already cleared and I’m excited for the possibilities. Maybe we can intercrop and plant cashews along the borders…
2. The next week that field is out. Apparently, it has a problem with erosion… and the soil is not good. So… what exactly am I here for? This seems right up my alley… No? Ok. I’ll just go along for this ride as long as it takes me.
3. The new field is in the bush. It is, in fact, bush. As in covered in tree-things and bushes and brush. Someone burned it earlier in the year, so all the trees are covered in soot. And it’s our job to clear it. By hand, obvi. Ok. Break out the machete and gloves and get to work. Just ignore the fact that you’re clearing more land for agriculture, creating a place that in two to four years will be as barren as the original field is now. Just push that thought right out of your mind.
4. The family works together to clear the land. I actually enjoy the work. I’m sweating because I’m using muscles, not just being hot. But I still, I can’t stop thinking… what am I here for? What do they think I’m here for?
5. On our way back from the field I ask Chinese ‘What do you think I’m here for?’ let’s just get this out in the open… I’m not very tactful anyway, why start now?
6. He says (paraphrasing) ‘I think you’re here to do mango grafting. And you said you know about bush fire. And maybe gardening.” Ok. Sweet. I think there have been some, uh, communication challenges. I have clearly failed to let him know what I can help with. I guess he’s not a mind reader.
7. With this new revelation in mind I tried to explain what I can help with; that it’s not limited to mango grafting (which I know almost nothing about, but that’s neither here nor there) and gardening. And that I haven’t said anything before, because I didn’t want to stroll in and start bossing everyone around and insulting their way of life without understanding it. In short, I’ve been waiting for people to ask me for assistance. BUT, Chinese hasn’t asked for help because he didn’t exactly know what I know, because agriculture is such a broad subject, and because in his culture people don’t really ask for help (Based on my observations this is only partially true, people are not shy about asking for ‘financial help.’) So he’s not culturally supposed to ask for help, and I’m not supposed to be culturally insensitive by assuming that I know a better way to do everything.
8. Based on our conversation, I’m going to try to be more aware of areas that I can help, and informing people (maybe even tactfully) that I may be able to assist. And Chinese says he’ll ask for help more often in the future. This could be a great compromise, and I think I understand a little more about where Gambians are coming from.
We finished clearing the field, and have talked about intercropping in the small field behind the compound. I suggested beans, corn and squash. Chinese was also open to the idea of planting cashews in a border around the same field. I think we’re making progress, slowly slowly.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Reading Is FUNdamental!
The ‘library’ at the Hella Kunda Lower Basic School is an unused classroom. There are two bookcases. Only two shelves have books suitable for children. The other books are textbooks from the 70”s and 80’s, an incomplete set of encyclopedias, and assorted outdated curriculum from the Gambian school system. There is not much to work with. The teachers don’t really utilize the library as a library, and the students have no idea how.
(I think it’s a crime not to use a library, books have been my friends for years.)
As a ‘mini-project’ I talked to the school head mistress about working with the students and teachers to use the library. The teachers and school staff worked to clean the room and make it usable. There are several tables and chairs for student use. And it was my job to teach the kids how to use the library.
I interrupted the 5th and 6th graders lesson and instructed the students to line up. (Anyone who has been in an elementary school lately knows that lining up is not easy, in America and Africa.) In the library we discussed how to use a library, how to treat books (Don’t let your baby brother tear the pages, etc.) and formulated a list of Library Rules. The kids were very receptive and had a good idea of what to do; they just hadn’t had a chance to practice! Each student chose a book to check out and return the next week. I read some books out loud to finish the ‘lesson.’ Again, the students were very receptive, and enjoyed the simple picture books. Most don’t get exposed to books outside of school, and even in school they rarely use books other than the Gambian textbooks.
For the 3rd and 4th graders we discussed the library and the rules, but didn’t check out books. Most of the books were too complex for solo reading at the student’s current level of comprehension. I read aloud, and the favorite book was Dr. Seuss’ Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?.
The 1st and 2nd graders also learned the rules and I read to them. Their English comprehension is pretty low, and I’m not sure how much they actually understood. To me, that means reading aloud is even more important. Exposing them to English words and books will help them in a school system where they are expected to know English without ever being formally taught. Since the first lesson I returned once to read more books and help the 5th and 6th graders return their books. School went on summer vacation in mid June, so the library lessons stopped, but will resume once school starts back up in September. Eventually, I would like to see the teachers reading to the students, and integrating the library as part of the curriculum. Maybe we can even get the village to invest in buying some more books!
(I think it’s a crime not to use a library, books have been my friends for years.)
As a ‘mini-project’ I talked to the school head mistress about working with the students and teachers to use the library. The teachers and school staff worked to clean the room and make it usable. There are several tables and chairs for student use. And it was my job to teach the kids how to use the library.
I interrupted the 5th and 6th graders lesson and instructed the students to line up. (Anyone who has been in an elementary school lately knows that lining up is not easy, in America and Africa.) In the library we discussed how to use a library, how to treat books (Don’t let your baby brother tear the pages, etc.) and formulated a list of Library Rules. The kids were very receptive and had a good idea of what to do; they just hadn’t had a chance to practice! Each student chose a book to check out and return the next week. I read some books out loud to finish the ‘lesson.’ Again, the students were very receptive, and enjoyed the simple picture books. Most don’t get exposed to books outside of school, and even in school they rarely use books other than the Gambian textbooks.
For the 3rd and 4th graders we discussed the library and the rules, but didn’t check out books. Most of the books were too complex for solo reading at the student’s current level of comprehension. I read aloud, and the favorite book was Dr. Seuss’ Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?.
The 1st and 2nd graders also learned the rules and I read to them. Their English comprehension is pretty low, and I’m not sure how much they actually understood. To me, that means reading aloud is even more important. Exposing them to English words and books will help them in a school system where they are expected to know English without ever being formally taught. Since the first lesson I returned once to read more books and help the 5th and 6th graders return their books. School went on summer vacation in mid June, so the library lessons stopped, but will resume once school starts back up in September. Eventually, I would like to see the teachers reading to the students, and integrating the library as part of the curriculum. Maybe we can even get the village to invest in buying some more books!
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Here Comes the Bride!
It's wedding season! Almost every weekend there is a wedding celebration or manyota. But weddings in The Gambia have a different protocol than US weddings. For one thing, the groom doesn't even have to be present! This weekend there was a wedding in the alkalo's compound. Early in the morning the women gather to begin cooking. Giant pots of water and oil are boiled. Rice is stirred using the biggest spoon you've ever seen. Women prepare vegetables and chickens. The menu today is benechin (a fried rice dish) and domoda (peanut sauce), two of my favorites! All morning, women bustle in and out, bringing food and utensils, cooking and chatting. The younger girls are primping and braiding hair in between chasing the goats and children away.
The guests begin to arrive. The men are gathering in a nearby compound to chat and drink attaya. Women in fine tie-dye robes greet each other and catch up on gossip. Everyone seems to find their way over to greet me. I try in vain to remember names and connections, but it's lost in a sea of faces.
Fatou makes room for me on a bench, and we sit and chat with everyone until the sun is high. I even got to stir the chicken a little!
The domoda looks amazing and smells even better. My mouth is watering! It's finally time to serve the rice, and giant bowls are filled. A parade of women leaves with bowls on their head to deliver it to the groups of guests.
Luckily, there are two bowls left for the cooks! We eagerly crowd around, scalding our fingers on the hot rice. It's worth it after the long wait. Yum!
Early in the evening the guests and wedding party assemble in the compound. The bride is dressed in a beautiful purple complet. Her husband is abroad, and so will not be at the wedding. It turns out that's not important in Gambian culture. His family is responsible for giving gifts to the bride and her family, a dowry of sorts. The couple has been 'married' for sometime, but the wedding celebration happens after the family can accumulate the gifts and afford the celebration.
Everyone is gathered around a huge pile of things, and one man, a griot or town crier picks up each item, raises it high so everyone can see, calls out what it is and counts it. In the pile are hundreds of meters of fabric, a boombox, suitcases, housewares, clothes, underwear (everyone laughed when he raised that in the air!) cash, bowls, and shoes. The count was around 100 individual items, and took almost and hour to go through!
Instead of wedding cake, we were served cups of chacari, coos with sour milk and sugar, eaten with a spoon.
After the displaying of the gifts, wedding guests offered their own blessings and gifts to the bride and the families. Eventually music started to play and the party lasted long into the night. Women dance in drum circles and troupes of singers wander through the guests performing.
Weddings will continue almost every weekend until Ramadan on August 21st.
The guests begin to arrive. The men are gathering in a nearby compound to chat and drink attaya. Women in fine tie-dye robes greet each other and catch up on gossip. Everyone seems to find their way over to greet me. I try in vain to remember names and connections, but it's lost in a sea of faces.
Fatou makes room for me on a bench, and we sit and chat with everyone until the sun is high. I even got to stir the chicken a little!
The domoda looks amazing and smells even better. My mouth is watering! It's finally time to serve the rice, and giant bowls are filled. A parade of women leaves with bowls on their head to deliver it to the groups of guests.
Luckily, there are two bowls left for the cooks! We eagerly crowd around, scalding our fingers on the hot rice. It's worth it after the long wait. Yum!
Early in the evening the guests and wedding party assemble in the compound. The bride is dressed in a beautiful purple complet. Her husband is abroad, and so will not be at the wedding. It turns out that's not important in Gambian culture. His family is responsible for giving gifts to the bride and her family, a dowry of sorts. The couple has been 'married' for sometime, but the wedding celebration happens after the family can accumulate the gifts and afford the celebration.
Everyone is gathered around a huge pile of things, and one man, a griot or town crier picks up each item, raises it high so everyone can see, calls out what it is and counts it. In the pile are hundreds of meters of fabric, a boombox, suitcases, housewares, clothes, underwear (everyone laughed when he raised that in the air!) cash, bowls, and shoes. The count was around 100 individual items, and took almost and hour to go through!
Instead of wedding cake, we were served cups of chacari, coos with sour milk and sugar, eaten with a spoon.
After the displaying of the gifts, wedding guests offered their own blessings and gifts to the bride and the families. Eventually music started to play and the party lasted long into the night. Women dance in drum circles and troupes of singers wander through the guests performing.
Weddings will continue almost every weekend until Ramadan on August 21st.
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