Welcome Yankuba Jammeh

A few weeks ago, my host mother finally gave birth. She had a healthy baby boy, so here are some pictures of the baby and from the naming ceremony itself. Here is a picture of the baby at about 36 hours old.


The naming ceremony itself was a great day. Early in the morning, neighbors started coming over to our compound. Then, an old man shaved the baby's head, while an a neighbor lady held him. After his head was shaved, he was passed from old person to old person, as they all prayed over him. Then, someone held the baby up and announced his name to everyone "Yankuba!" (Its a Mandinka version of Yacob, which is the Muslim version of Jacob). The rest of the day was spent cooking huge vats of bennechin, and eating. My host mother looked beautiful, and changed into new beautiful outfits every few hours all day long. Later in the evening, we had a dance circle. Here are some pics from the day.

Its the final countdown

Hey folks at home!

Sorry for the long silence! Its been a busy emotion-filled, anxiety ridden, pretty fun couple of months. I guess the reason I’ve been so quiet is that it becomes difficult to write when I run out of novel experiences. Life seems pretty normal here. But since you’ve been so patient, here are some pictures of the kittens that were born in my bed!









And now on to the topic at hand. My service is almost over. I’ve got about three weeks left. So now is the time to be pulling back on work-related stuff, more just being available to offer advice rather than organizing or leading anything. Its time to start making plans back home. Its time to start saying goodbye.

Some things feel good. I enjoy watching my students plan their own activities, and make decisions as a group. I only hope they continue to carry this great momentum forward. I just celebrated Tobaski with my host family, which was a really nice day, and I felt valued and as if I belonged. My host mother is pregnant and due to give birth any minute, and its been fun to anticipate the baby along with her, and plan the naming ceremony. A big community party with all my friends would be a nice way to end things. But I’m also excited to be making plans back home. I’m ready to see my family! I’m ready to eat some burritos! I’m currently in the process of applying for M. Ed. programs around the country, and its exciting to be thinking about the next step.

This is also pretty scary. In as much as I am looking forward to being home, I don’t think its going to be an easy transition. What about jobs? Is it going to be difficult to relate to people? Will they have a difficult time relating to me? Will my friendships pick back up where they were two years ago? What if I don’t get into any Master’s programs? I think 70 degrees is COLD, what about Michigan winters!?

Also, I’m feeling sad. I have genuine friends here, and that is going to be difficult to leave. I’ve watched a number of children grow and learn over the course of two years, and it’s a bummer to think of not being here to see them continue.

I wish you all a wonderful holiday season, I’ll be seeing you before you know it. Eeek.

My apologies for how long its been since I've posted. Honestly, at this point its been a little hard to find things to post about. Nothing seems very novel, so why write?
Rainy season has come and gone, as has Ramadan. My service is coming to a close, so while I am still active and available in my community, I'm not trying to start anything new. School has started again, and the Peer Health Club has lots of new members and big plans for the year. My friend and I are still working on installing internet at the school, though Ramadan did delay the process.

Here is something I've wanted to post since being here. The following picture is of Omar and his Peace Corps Cafe! Omar is a talented cook who has been friends with PC for years. His little rocket ship-shaped hut is just down the street from our offices, so its a great lunch spot, plus he's open to learning new foods for volunteers, such as quasadillas or philly cheese steak sandwiches. He caters a lot of PC training events and makes a mean ginger chicken.


Thanks Omar!

packing list

Hey everybody! As my service here comes to an end, I thought I would review what I was glad I brought with me, and what I wish I had brought instead. PC issues a suggested packing list, but we all agree that its kind of dumb. But since changing it would involve going through Washington DC (seriously, we checked), I thought I would just post one of my own(to be considered IN ADDITION to the one offered by PC) for anyone considering PC in Sub Saharan Africa.




Things I’m glad I brought
My laptop--really good for storing pics, being able to work at home, and watching movies. Wifi is increasingly available in The Gambia, you’re going to want a laptop. Also came in handy for radio project I did with my students.
An extra battery for my laptop--it was nice to be able to have an extra couple of hours of power between charging. Everyone I knew who had one of those big, expensive solar batteries that can power a laptop said that they didn’t work. Its better to rig something up here with a car battery, or make your own solar set-up once you get here. Or as I did, just have an extra battery you can charge when you ARE near power.
Ipod and speakers
Headlamps
Digital camera
Solio--little solar panel charger. It takes about 8 hours in the sun to get a full charge, and from it I can charge my cell phone and ipod without needing to go searching for an outlet. Some people said that their Solio broke in the rain. Mine has been rained on plenty of times and is still going strong.
My own pillow--pillows in this country are terrible.
A fleece blanket--believe it or not, January and February nights are chilly
Sturdy sandals--I prefer Keen, but lots of people seem to like Chacos. Both of these companies provide discounts to PCVs, so take advantage of that.
Toiletries--deodorant, tampons, and razors are all available here, but they are expensive. Its better to load up on that stuff at home when it goes on sale. Ten sticks of deodorant for a $1 each is going to feel WAY better than buying one every month or so for the equivalent of $4 on your PC living allowance.


Things I wish I had brought
A French press--Nescafe is yucky.
More solid colored plain t-shirts
Knife sharpener
One pair of nice heals. Oh wait, I did bring that. And when my bag was too big, they were one of the first things to be ditched. I still think about them all lonely next to the airport trash can.
More food from home--seriously, this is what you should fill your bags with. Food for training, and other stuff you can’t get here. Chai tea, drink/soup/sauce mixes, real coffee, real chocolate, dried fruit. Etc.


Things that I didn’t need
Don’t bring so many clothes, you can just have things made here, or go shopping in the “dead white man’s clothes” (clothes donated to Goodwill, then sold to developing countries).

DON’T bring so many professional clothes, no matter what the stupid packing list says. I still have some nice slacks and button-down shirts that I haven’t worn yet. Its just too hot. Most of us just don’t work in offices, so why feel uncomfortable all the time? For women, conservative sun dresses are better, or I’m sure you’ll have things tailored. For men, a few pairs of khakis and a couple of button-downs will be fine.

Hiking boots/sturdy shoes--I can only think of 2 times that I wore sturdy shoes. The rest of the time I wore flip-flops. It’s just too hot for closed-toed shoes. And if you’re going in and out of people’s houses, you’re going to be lacing them up and off all the time.

Cell phone--yes, you can bring an unlocked phone from the states to use here, but I don’t think that it was worth it. The internet capabilities on my phone weren’t compatible with the internet offerings here, and it wasn’t as sturdy. The nokia phones here are cheap($35-$40), durable, and come with a handy-dandy flashlight function that you will use every single day.

Dead Aid

Hey everybody.

So this past week the president of our country, His Excellency the Honorable Gen. Dr. Prof. Sheik Alagie A. J. J. Jammeh traveled around the country giving money to schools to host end-of-year parties. Awesome. He gave the high school where I work D40, 000 (roughly $1,600), with the stipulation that it be used in one day to give a party for students and staff. So we bought 2 cows for slaughter, probably 150 kilos of rice, 60 litres of oil, onions, potatoes, plus all the spices to make yassa and bennechin. Plus boxes and boxes of green tea for attaya, and cans of sweetened condensed milk, which they re-hydrate a little, and serve hot. And we hired a DJ.
Here is my problem. This is a school that can’t get its ducks in a row to keep itself in good working order. We may be in better shape than some because we are German-sponsored, but we still don’t have any science equipment, our art supplies are few and are bad quality, and the library is full of outdated books which no one cares for or organizes (I’ve been trying to guess whether the West just donated a bunch of junk, or whether they sent good learning materials, and all the nice stuff has been stolen by now). In each grade, about one third of the students performed well enough to be promoted to the next grade. In short, when the money is clearly available, is a party really what we need most?
I struggled with how to have this discussion with people. I didn’t want to lecture or impose my American practicalities on people, especially since its not my school’s fault. They didn’t ask for a party, someone just handed them some money and told them to buy some cows. Of course they agreed. The best I could do was ask questions to try and facilitate discussion (“Wow! D40,000? To use all in one day? Think what that money could buy that we could enjoy all year long!”)I could have boycotted, but that really wouldn’t have made much of a dent either. I went, cooked with my friends, ate beef and was glad for the protein.

I’ve mentioned this anecdote as an introduction to a discussion on Dead Aid a book I’ve read on the history of aid sent to the developing world, and whether or not the habit has outlived its purpose. In short, the book makes the argument that by continuing to send money, the developed world is only enabling the developing world in keeping bad habits, or that the trend of giving has outlived the need for it. More and more, the citizens of these developing countries (and their governments) HAVE the money to meet many of their own needs, but know very well what the donors will pay for, so they use their own money on (forgive me) dumb stuff. The developed world will pay for ARVs for HIV/AIDS patients, so local governments can spend their own money on big sports stadiums. The developed world LOVES to support schools buy building them, furnishing them, buying supplies, and paying fees, so local governments feel free to buy parties, parents feel free to buy fancy clothes. Our aid has many other negative effects as well, often by being open to our “aid” a country must also be open to trade with us, and by having our imports their own economy can’t sustain its own production. To close itself off from trade with us might be the best thing for the local economy, but they would lose donations and no one wants that. Its been noted that many countries are poorer now than they were 20 years ago. Where has our money been going?

So what to we do now? Quitting aid cold turkey is bound to lead to problems, and probably violence. But continuing, I honestly believe, is throwing money down a hole. My friend, who was a PCV in The Gambia in 1979, and now is a college professor, argues that the best thing would be to create laws which would make it easier for people to legally immigrate to the US and Europe for work. These people then send remittance checks home to their families, thereby stimulating development. I’m not so sure. Yes, the good thing would be that (in this case) this would be Africans working to support Africans, not some faceless donor sending money to faceless recipients. It would be a personal interaction. And I’m all for culture exchange on both sides, we could all stand to learn a little more about each other. But with the current economic situation in the States, I’m not sure it’s the job of my government to ensure jobs to foreigners. I want to know that there will be a job for me and my family when I get home. Also, from my own observations, I’m not convinced that remittance checks automatically equally school fees. More often I see them spent on fancy fabric and cell phones. Most communities have people abroad sending money home, but in my opinion its not very well spent, and I have a hard time believing that more of the same would improve things.

So that’s that. Only questions, no answers.

Seven months

Hey everybody,

Summer is here, and the rains are in full force. Recently, it really feels like my close of service has been fast approaching. Seven months isn’t a long time at all. Some days this can seem exciting, other times scary. I’m in no hurry to leave, but some days I do get tired of being a woman in a Muslim country, and I do get tired of being a white person in an African country. Some anonymity and privacy will be a welcome break. I also look forward to having more control over what I eat and when (Mexican food and cheesecake are high on the list).
But I also get sad about the thought of leaving. As much as I ache for privacy, nothing beats the feeling of coming home from time away and my family and neighbors all welcoming me back. My host family are wonderful people. My mother has helped me through every awkward social interaction where I blurted out the absolute wrong thing, and she did it all with grace and understanding. When work hasn’t gone so well, I’ve gotten a great amount of amusement and comfort from playing with and watching the kids in the compound. Their antics never disappoint. Its been a really neat experience to watch my youngest host brother grow. He learned to walk and talk since I’ve been here and its been neat to watch him turn into a real human being. Also, my host mother is pregnant. She should deliver before I leave, so that’s an exciting thing to anticipate, but sad that I won’t be here for more of it.
When I DO get back to the states, what am I supposed to do? Where am I going back to? I know I want to go into teaching, but is it better to just be certified and start working, or better to go for the Master’s now? Where? To teach which age group? Mainstream or special needs?

Eek. So that’s whats on my mind these days.

Fula scars

Hey all!
So here's a new adventure!

Near the beginning of my service I posted an article about women, and the many things they do for beauty. One of those things is decorative scarring at the outside corners of the eyes, or just below the eyes on the apples of the cheeks. The fula tribe does this most, but women from other tribes do it too. PCVs in The Gambia have taken to getting the scars as well, as a memento of their service here, body adornment, and general proof of being a baddass.
Well, the time has come for me to get my scars. Luckily, my friend Lisa came along to cheer me on, and to take pictures. Enjoy!






So here's how the day went. We traveled from Lisa's site in Soma, to Wassu, to the home of a woman named Fatou Ceesay. She has been the lady to go to for PCVs getting scars. After greeting for awhile, we went into her house, and got down to business. We washed our feet (where we were both to be scarred), and then she very gently sliced with a (brand new, straight from the package, i bought it myself) razor. The wound barely bled, and only stung a little. She then rubbed it with charred peanut powder. We then bandaged it, and were instructed not to remove the bandage or get it wet for three days.
I was worried about what my neighbors would think. Would they be flattered that I found one of their traditions so beautiful that I chose to permanently alter my body with it? Would they find it to be a bit of a farce because I didn't put it on my face? It turns out they seemed flattered, and when I explained that it would be difficult to get a job with black scars on my face, they understood. The universal response has been to ask why I didn't get them on my breasts. Some have even whipped them out to show me. No good answer for that, ladies. Maybe next time.

Hey all,

Still here only.

The PSA project with my students has ended pretty well. I'm really proud of them. I might have bitten off a little more than I could chew, but overall, i think it will work. We recorded four scripts (one each on HIV, the importance of breastfeeding, malnutrition, and malaria). Then, the goal was to record each script in English, and the three major local languages. Eeek, that turned out to be 16 recordings! That, plus all the editing, etc, that goes into it turned out to be a bit much for the kids' schedules (and i'm going cross-eyed from looking at sound squiggles on my computer), but we got them all recorded in English, all in Mandinka, and a few in each Pulaar and Wolof. We've added music and sound effects, and the next step is for me to duplicate the recordings, and distribute them to my PC pals around the country, and they will bring it to their local radio stations. Go Peer Health!

Hey all,

i came in with the intention of updating on my radio PSA project with my students. its going well, but there is something else on my mind.

Ok. So. I am a member of our Volunteer Advisory Committee (VAC). The committee's job is to communicate with admin on behalf of volunteers, and vice versa. We give feedback on policy, hold admin responsible to follow through with things they say they will do, keep tabs on our transit house and other things that affect PCVs.

The recent frustration is the new administration. We received a new country director last November, and I know part of the reason he was sent was to get our program back in line with PC Washington regulations (little did i know, we were way out there in terms of policy, and enforcing policy). Our last CD, while he was happy to drop whatever he was doing in order to sit and talk with a PCV about anything, he didn't follow policies very closely, and didn't punish people who broke them. So, it has been a difficult set of changes. They have written numerous policies, and consequences for breaking them. Difficult as it is, I know this is all well and good. The problem is, our new CD isn't as interested in having personal relationships with PCVs as the old one was. He doesn't seem to think its his job. Come with a concern, and he will direct you elsewhere. Moreover, he doesn't seek/value PCV input when it is appropriate to seek it. I know that in terms of some policies, its all Washington's doing, and we have little room for input. But others, such as the direction of our program in development, its appropriate and necessary to seek PCV input on these decisions. We are the ones actually working on the ground. Most of us have been here longer than him, and better know the culture and history of development in the country.
Recently our CD decided that his new focus for our program is to push grant-writing. He has organized a series of new trainings and committees, etc. Hmm. Well, if someone is going to write a grant, I would want them to do it well, and so trainings seem like a good step. My concern is that PUSHING grant-writing might make people think that getting money for things ought to be our focus. It's not. It's absolutely %100 ok to be a PCV and never bring any money to a project. Money is not a solution to the problem, and TOO MUCH development money has harmed Gambia in many ways by shaping bad habits. Not enough money is not the problem. There is plenty of money in this country, just backward priorities. People can find money to spend over $40 for a single outfit, or over $500 for a party, but can't seem to find the money to send their kids to school. Here, as in other places in the developing world, people have really capitalized on what foreigners will pay for and what they will not. Foreigners like to pay for hospitals, ARVs, schools and school fees, roads, and food relief. Foreigners will not pay for big parties, fancy clothes, or mobile phones. So people spend their own money on the fun stuff, then knock on our door for the rest. It only exacerbates the problem if we're just another group of people throwing money around. If our CD spent some time living outside the capital he would know that. If we tell him our opinions, he simply replies "duly noted" and continues what he was doing.

The money thing is a big frustration. I know that some amount of money is necessary for development efforts. I just liked that we were different from other organizations in that we focused on skill-building. Money gets in the way of that because people still get stuff, and don't have to change any of their habits or learn new skills. When that money runs out, more will come. it always does. Why learn new skills when you can get paid to just stay the same? And the fact that my opinion (and those of my peers) is not valued by someone whose job it is to support me is a real pisser.

thats my rant for the day. duly noted.

The F word

*Yes, this article contains profanity. You can handle it.


Here’s something I’ve been meaning to write about. The F word. You know, the four letter one. It fits into almost any part of speech and is pretty universally offensive. Well, thanks to movies and rap music coming in from the West, the F word is fairly prevalent in conversation here. However, something has been lost in translation, and the word doesn’t carry as much weight. I did a double take the first time I heard a grown man tell his toddler son to “F*ck off” when he really just meant “go away and stop trying to climb my legs.” One can even hear old ladies reprimand others by yelling “F*cking ass!” out of bus windows. A PC employee replied, when I had asked what he was still doing at the office at 7 pm on a Friday, “Oh, I’m nearly done here and then soon I will f*ck off.”

Well. Fine. I’m not so much a prude, and can accept that people don’t quite mean what I hear when they use that word. But its one of the strongest words in my arsenal, and what can I do when I really really need to tell someone where to go? When I need the word to mean what I mean by it and all its force to be unleashed on someone who has thoroughly pushed my buttons? When my dander is up, what can I say when I really really need to make myself clear? One of the most offensive words in my vocabulary has been rendered pretty meaningless…and this can be frustrating.

PC did teach us insults as part of our language training. This happened to varying degrees depending on which trainer a person had. Some trainers went all out. Ours sheepishly taught us phrases such as “you are very lazy” and “you are so foolish.” Those don’t quite cut it. To learn the real deal, I had to go to the streets. Nonetheless, I just cannot bring myself to yell, in Mandinka, “I will cut your father’s penis to pieces!” or “Your mother’s clitoris is red!” even if it would get the job done. Even just yelling “your penis!” or “your asshole!”, while it sounds very silly coming out of my mouth, is enough to bring people to blows here. I just can’t do it.

Hey all,

Its been a little while. Work is still work. Its still hot. Recently, I started working with the Peer Health kids at the high school project, so I thought I’d talk a little about how that was going.
A couple of weeks ago, I introduced the idea of making health-related public service announcements. I wanted the group to break up into smaller groups, which would then choose a health topic, research it, write a service announcement, record it in the three major languages, and distribute these recordings around the country. (actually my PCV friend Tavi came up with this great idea, but unfortunately she has been too busy to work on it). The kids seemed excited about an outreach project, so we got started.
I began by bringing in examples of 30 second health announcements(which in itself was a difficult thing to find on the internet, things that are relevant to Gambians. We don‘t talk about depression here, or childhood obesity, so finding radio messages about other topics was a challenge), and we discussed the messages in each, and the idea of a target audience. They chose their topics, and I brought in all the info I could find for them to research from. (internet downloads, health textbooks from the 80’s, my PC health manual) Then we started researching. And it was on this third session working on this project that they finally “got” what it was we were doing.
30 SECONDS!?! That’s not possible!!! How can we say all this in 30 seconds?! Why can’t we do a one-hour radio show? (how honestly to reply? Because you guys don’t know enough about any particular topic to do a one hour show on it, that’s why. Too honest, whitney). What, you guys just got this? We listened to examples, I’ve repeated the premise of what we are doing over and over. Yes, 30 SECONDS. I tried to re-explain in terms of cooking--when you cook sauce you put many things into the pot, and lots of water, then you boil it all down for many hours until you have a sauce. It might be smaller than what you started with, but the flavor is stronger. I want you to boil this information down to its most important points and use that for your radio announcement. Or, advertising. I talked about radio commercials for a mobile phone company, Africell. They have short messages telling you why you should buy their product. We are advertising good health choices, and we need to catch people’s attention with short bits of important info.
They’re still fighting me. I know I’m asking them to do something outside of their experience. When Gambians get together to discuss topics, many people make speeches. One person will get up and be like “such and such is so important because blahblahblah…” for 20 minutes, often more. And then someone else will stand up and say “just to re-emphasize what my colleague has just said blahblahblah….” and he will repeat EXACTLY what was already said. It takes hours and everyone wants to hear his own voice, even if its just repeating what has already been said many times (I try not to get bitter when I attend these things. This cultural habit serves a function. Since so few people read, things are learned by repetition. Everyone repeats the message, so maybe it can be remembered. Its just that I watch people zoning out or playing with their phones, they are just as bored as I am and not listening). Also, kids at school are given information in books and lectures, and then just asked to memorize and regurgitate it at test time, whether or not they understand the words or not. So, to ask them to read info (which I do think this group is able to do), and decide for themselves what is most important , is a really really tall order in critical thinking for these kids.

And so, small small. Learning experiences all around.

As a post script to this article, but in no way as an afterthought, I wish to thank every teacher, parent, or mentor who ever encouraged me to think out of the box, come up with something new, and ask questions beginning with “How?” “Why?” or “What if?” rather than beating me for the impertinence of my question. I was allowed and encouraged to imagine the world that I wanted to create, knowing that imagining was the first step in making it possible. I am so much the better for it.
The US is not superior because we have flush toilets and fabric softener. It is certainly not true that no one works hard and we just sit all day counting our money. But as innovation in thought has been a core value of our philosophy from the beginning of our country’s history, this has contributed a great much to our success. Knowing that anyone’s next great idea could be just around the corner gives me hope for the world. Critical thinking skills are extremely important. These kids are not stupid, but they are a product of a really really outdated teaching method and their country’s development is suffering because of it.

Hey everybody! It's a loofah sponge in it's natural habitat!



All this time I thought loofahs came from the ocean, mostly because regular sponges do.



but as it turns out, loofahs come from The Gambia. ;-) and i'm sure other places too.

Slkfjsdljf
Laksjdlskdjfkjdf
Alskfhdklsdfjkjsfdkj.

This past week or so has been kind of a pisser. Want to hear?

Alright, so I wrote a few weeks ago about having discussed condom use with the students at the school. Before I did those lessons, I mentioned to the teacher coordinator that we were going to discuss sexual and reproductive health, including condoms. Then, I did the sessions separately with boys and girls. A month passed and we moved on to other things.
Then, a week and a half ago, this teacher coordinator called me into his office to say that what I had done was wrong, and anti-Islam, etc etc. While I was surprised and a little annoyed that he had taken to long to tell me, he was very respectful in his tone, and seemed to try to make it a dialogue between two people with differing points of view, rather than a wrist-slapping. That’s fine. I’m open to discussion and I know that religion is a big part of people’s lives and decision-making processes. What I was NOT ok with was the fact that he spoke about me to students when I was not present. I’m pissed that he may have tarnished my credibility with them, and I told him so. His opinion is that we should preach chastity and virtue only, and that to discuss condoms as a safety measure gives students license to sleep around willy-nilly(does the argument sound familiar?). OF COURSE I encourage abstinence. It’s the safest option and the only sure-fire way to keep your body healthy. It’s just not practical to only give people that option.
My problem is that up until this point, I really respected this man. I still do, though I really disagree with him on this point. He and I both care about the students, I just care more about the here-and-now, he is more concerned with the hereafter. I wanted to be respectful of him and of the faith and culture while still pushing for a more practical education for the students. So when this teacher invited me to his house to discuss the issue, I went. I wanted to show that the lines of communication are open. At his house, I met one of his very devout friends and was subjected to two hours of complete bullshit. His friend began with questions and speeches meant to convert me(have you ever wondered why you were created? (Let me blather on about the wonder of the universe and it‘s creator), and when I pointed out that this was off-topic from what I came to discuss, he moved on to how the West is corrupting the youth, and that if I teach condoms etc, MORE unwanted pregnancies and HIV transmissions would result. He also gave me grief about child’s right’s advocates coming over and saying that people shouldn’t beat their children (actually lots of people have been giving me hell about this lately. There seems to be a mass misunderstanding about Child’s Rights--teachers, parents, and kids alike). And he guessed that I was probably going to try to encourage homosexuality because that is acceptable in my country (not touching that one, it’s illegal here and I’m not trying to be labeled a witch and hauled off by the government). Moreover, he seemed to like having the threat of pregnancy and HIV as a weapon and stigmatizer, so that if someone became pregnant or infected they could be labeled a “fornicator” because only through premarital sex could any of these things happen. God wouldn’t allow them to happen any other way.
This discussion was exhausting for a number of reasons. I really struggled with how far I wanted to push this issue. I attended this phenomenal waste of my Sunday morning because I am aware of how America is viewed, and I didn’t want to seem like I was unwilling to listen, know everything, hating on Islam, etc. but I also think that this is important info for kids to have in the fight against HIV.
Luckily, I have been able to talk to the headmaster about the issue. Sex education, including condom use, is part of the school curriculum for senior secondary schools. I brought in text books to demonstrate, and also the official literature from the organization who supports the Peer Health Clubs on the national level. This curriculum is government sanctioned, and if someone has a problem with it, they have no right to attack me personally about it. Gambia is not an Islamic state. This high school is not an Islamic school. While religion can be part of the discussion, it cannot be the ONLY discussion. The principal backed me up, which I was grateful for, I just worry about the effect this disagreement may have had on the students and our relationship.

As a side note, what is it with religious fanatics and their obsession with sex? Why are those rules the ones they like to enforce so strictly? When there are lots of rules in a religion, why do people think that there is wiggle room in some(like in this case, I know that there are other rules of Islam that this teacher breaks and he says that there is room for interpretation but be damned if someone wants to protect themselves from HIV) , but the ones governing sexual practice are to be held hard and fast (ha. No pun there, promise.)
Why does everyone care who is doinking who?

and here's just some other pics i felt like throwing up on the blog.


some kids playing in the yard.


my best friend


and me rocking some corn rows

Nonverbal Communication

MAN its hot outside. Our cold season this year was, like, a week long. Now its back to hot and dry with strong harmattan winds blowing from the northeast. The wind isn’t cool and refreshing though, its hot like standing underneath a hair dryer all day. Yikes. But hey, the cashews will be here again soon, and then the rains will come (and then the mold will come ;-/) and then the mangos will come!
With my Mandinka skills being as so-so as they are, I thought I would devote some space to Gambian non-verbal communication. Without even noticing, I use quite a few in theh day-to-day. Here are my favorites.
This is the general question hand. It means “where are you going?” or “how much does this cost?” Start with the palm facing downward, then dramatically turning the hand over. A driver might make this gesture as he approaches to ask if you are going his way, and whether you want a ride. This same interaction happens in reverse when hitch-hiking.

Eh?


This is a more emphatic version of the same gesture, and I usually translate it as “What the hell?” The hands clap together, then both sharply turn palms up.


WTF?

This is a threat. It serves as a warning to a child that if he does not stop what he is doing, he will be beaten. It is done by holding the middle finger steady with the thumb, then shaking the hand forcefully so that the index finger slaps against the middle finger. The louder the sound the better. Sometimes the threat continues as follows.


I am going to beat you.


Until you die.

Then I’m going to eat you.


This one is my favorite. It begins with arms bent at 90 degree angles to the body. They then they are brought sharply down to the sides (think of the chicken dance. Its like one chicken flap). Sometimes it is accompanied by the declaration “Mbang!” but just the gesture is understood fine. It means “I refuse!”

Whatsoever a man can do, yadda yadda yadda

Hey all. So here’s something that I’ve found difficult. It seems to be coming up often lately, so I figured its worth writing about. The issues of women’s equality and empowerment is one that many people play lip-service to, partly because lots of NGOs get money to do “sensitizations” on the topic, but from what I can tell, not much is sinking in. Yes, you may say that “whatsoever a man can do, a woman can also do” but do you believe it?
It’s a sticky topic to discuss, partly because of the resistance that I meet from both women and men, but also because if I get worked up then I can’t be effective any more. The last thing I need to do is mouth off about how women here are oppressed, it puts people on the defensive and isn’t helpful. In other words, I really need to control my temper. I can’t get mad just because someone isn’t living my dream.
Oddly, I meet a lot of resistance on this topic from women. Women here do ALL the housework*--cooking, sweeping, laundry, bathing the children, fetching water, plus often some small income-generating activity like selling vegetables from the garden--and quite frankly they’re PROUD of it. They keep their family fed and healthy and it’s a big point of pride for them. I’m not trying to take that away from anyone. Usually when I mention that American men cook, clean, do laundry, and take an active role in parenting, they respond by asking what I do? (usually this conversation happens when some woman is asking why I won’t marry her son/nephew/any Gambian man) Replying that I would go to the workplace and ALSO share in some of the housework, it doesn’t seem to be enough. Women are going to the workplace in increasing numbers here, and they are still responsible for the housework, and most get offended when I wonder aloud if that will change. My friend who is a teacher says that she used to teach all morning, then come home to cook lunch for her husband, then go back to work (this has changed since a second wife joined the family). The best I can say is “Yaama, that sure sounds like a lot of work.” She said that if she saw a man cooking, that she would complain that his wife was not good. Another female professional demanded that her husband hire a maid to cook and clean for them, but in no way demanded that he pitch in.
I’ve been similarly frustrated when talking to women professionals about working conditions, being a minority in the workplace, etc. I want to conduct a discussion on it in an up-coming Women’s and Girl’s Empowerment Camp, and was looking to see if people experience the same frustrations I do when working with Gambian men and balancing work and home life, and giving them a place to discuss coping strategies. I was baffled when no one mentioned any of the same frustrations. Do they not get pissed when a man talks over them? Does it not chap their ass when they are asked to do some menial task that the man is fully capable of doing himself? I don’t want to fish for these answers particularly, but I was surprised when they didn’t come up.
So how to discuss equalizing work loads without taking away someone’s pride in the job they do? Slowly slowly, Gambia. You’ll get there.
*Its important to mention that men do work too, of course. They build houses and fences. They dig wells. Men dig furrows for the rainy season crops. They slaughter animals. Its just that these jobs are seasonal, and so the Daily Working to Sitting-on-Their-Butts Ratio is a whole lot heavier on the sitting side than it is for women.

our mothers were right, veggies are good for you

hey everybody,

Lately I've been noticing just how jaded I am on what normal development looks like in children. There are kids here who are big, for The Gambia, their hair is the right color, and so I assume that they are developing normally. But lately, Gambian relatives who are living in Europe have been visiting with their children. These kids are huge! For example, my host brother is two years old and is always eating, has lots of hair, is getting taller and runs around like a healthy kid. So I assumed that he was on the healthy track for development. But to see these Gambian toddlers being raised in the West eating vitamin fortified food, and man I'm shocked. One little girl is a year younger and a full head and shoulders taller than my younger brother. yikes.

One thing the Gambian kids have going for them is their sense of sharing. Foreign kids are BRATS. Gambian kids share everything with each other. Everybody takes bites of each other's cookies, everyone takes a lick of everyone's lollipop(yes, I recognize the germy consequences, but I'm focusing on the social advantages here), and no one cries about it. Foreign kids throw tantrums. Go Gambia. Now lets all eat vegetables together.

youth of brikama! lets wrap it up!

Hey all! Its been awhile! I just finished with two sessions on condom use with my peer health club at the high school. Two sessions, because I split them up into boys and girls so as to, hopefully, make them more comfortable to participate and learn. Both sessions were really different, but both turned out great.
The girls were few, but those who showed fully participated, and asked questions. I did an ice-breaker activity involving condom balloons. They rolled with it. They watched me demonstrate correct use on a bottle of sunscreen, then practiced for themselves. It was a somewhat easy forum for this, even though they are shy. The premise of their club is to educate themselves on health topics, then teach their peers, so I could really focus on how everyone should have good information to share with their friends, that way no one had to admit to having a boyfriend (though I’m sure they all know who has and who doesn’t). What really impressed me was the dialogue though, both what they created with me and with each other. They asked questions about common beliefs (“my friend says when you use a condom and throw it away at the end, you’re throwing away a baby. Is that true?”) and discussed common ideas about family planning, and asked enough questions about the available methods that I now know I have to do a whole session on it. One girl was really gung-ho, while the others hung back. I thought it was great that she did all the talking about the need to plan you’re pregnancies, and that maybe three is enough children that I didn’t have to be the toubab preaching these ideas. They are already here.
The boys were different, much more raunchy and macho (but very respectful of me personally), but just as open to asking questions. People seem to have this idea that the lubricant that comes on condoms is bad. I’m working hard to dispel that belief. There are also a variety of herbal remedies for all sorts of male problems or insecurities, and they had a lot of questions about that. I like having sessions that go so well, everyone seems relaxed and all the information gets out. It gives a great Peace Corps high.

That said, it really is the middle of my service. I was sworn in as volunteer just over a year ago. Time flew. It’s a bit of a strange time right now just because I’m pretty integrated, I know a lot of people and I feel like I’m a valued part of the community. I feel like I’ve got a pretty good handle on what is feasible from the ground, and who to talk to to get things done. It feels really good. Its what I came for, the experience of being integrated and familiar with a culture so different from my own. I think that’s why I don’t update as much anymore, because things seem so normal. I don’t blog about my daily life at home, and it almost seems as silly to do so now.
But on the other hand, even though I’m so much better able to work effectively than when I first got here, and things flow pretty smoothly in the day to day, now is also the time to start planning for when I get home. That’s pretty scary. Eek.

Sierra Leone: round 2

This entry includes our day-trip to River Number 2, and River number 2 Beach. River Number 2 has a lovely waterfall that we hiked to, and the beach is positively pristine. The local community runs a tourist resort there--food, lodging, etc--and all the proceeds go to running the community school. Its great, but part of the attraction was that it was so secluded and quiet. I’ve got to say that irresponsible tourism would totally ruin it. Maybe Gambian beaches were once so quiet and perfect as well.

This is us walking along the road, trying to find River Number 2. I just enjoy the redness of the soil.



This is the river and the falls (more like a gently trickling creek, pooling into a lagoon, but it was still great).



Here are some beach pics. It was lovely. The little boy just came out of nowhere and sat with us on the beach. He was super cute, and quiet. We figured either his mother sent him to beg from us, or he is just so used to white people coming to the beach, and probably doing fun things and eating good food that he is totally comfortable with them. Either way, he just sat and chilled.







fishing boats




and that was a day at the beach.