Tobaski

On Saturday, November 28 the Feast of Tobaski was celebrated in Farafenni. Tobaski, for Muslims, bears the same magnitude as Christmas - families getting together, and lots of general merriment and food. Consult the always friendly Wikipedia for a concise description.

Earlier in the week, three of my host brothers from the Kombo area, Samba, Sainey, and Fude came for the celebration. All were cool dudes that were about my age, so we chatted and drank lots of attaya while they were in town.

As for the day of Tobaski itself, it began with me fumbling with my 'Kompleto' trying to get the drawstring of my pants properly inserted and tied. It took the effort of my mother Keenee, Sainey, and myself to finally get er' done. We were running late for the prayers that were taking place that morning. My father is the Alimamo, i.e. the religious leader, so this is his big moment.

We arrived at the Mosque and tossed our prayer mat down outside. The Mosque was too small to house every one in attendance.....sort of like church on Easter Sunday, right? We immediately began recanting a prayer that involved lots of standing up, kneeling, kissing the ground, standing up some more, etc. The language of choice was Arabic, so I had no clue what was being said, but I was able to play along with the physical aspects of the prayers at least. It was a nice ceremony. Lots of handshaking and pictures afterwards, with everyone dressed in their finest cloth.

For the past three or four weeks, my father had been escorting a very fine looking ram around the village. During this time, our ram had it made, eating only the finest grasses and mango leaves and even getting a nice, refreshing bath every couple days. This all came to an end at the conclusion of the prayers. As soon as I arrived back home, there he was, breathing his last few breaths before he turned into breakfast, lunch, second lunch, afternoon snack, dinner, and second dinner. I personally had a hand in the butchery, which was quick work, as my family are all skilled butchers.

Tobaski being the exception, I don't think meat made it on to the final draft of the Gambian food pyramid. Everyone was excited about the prospect of eating meat all day long. I was just happy to have a rice-free day.

Amidst gorging myself all day long, I was constantly being asked for 'saliboo', i.e. money. Apparently, giving prayer gifts is expected, but being the awkward foreign guy in town, I was wholly unprepared for this. I had money, but only 'large' denominations of 50 and 100 Dalasi. I'm pretty sure asking for change would have been tacky in any culture.

Somewhat surprisingly, most people were going to bed early - I suppose all that meat needed digesting. I also turned in early. But my Tobaski experience did not actually reach its climax until around 5 A.M. the next morning, when I blew some serious chunks. Initially, I wanted to blame it on eating too much. But I've put on far greater displays of gluttonous excess before. Then I remembered the sheep testicle I ate in the food bowl for dinner. Yea.

Baabaa with his pride and joy

Gettin' all pertied up

A faata le

Jongfolo be tabiroo la

Opah, Jongfolola kewo

Mariama, future super model

No, I didn't show my little brother (front center) that gesture...

--Junkung

National Condiment

Possibly one of the biggest differences that I've encountered since I've been has been the food, particularly the availability of certain foods. With the exception of the Banjul and surrounding area, there are no fast food joints, delis, or white table cloth establishments. In village, there is no ordering a pizza when your feeling lazy and don't want to cook. Good bye McDonald's, Subway, Taco Bell.

This is not to say there aren't places that emulate the look, feel, and to some extent, taste of a franchised eatery. However, the cost of experiencing Western-style dining is 'A Koliyata' (difficult). A few weeks ago, I splurged and when to a classy, white tablecloth place named GFC.

Yes, you did successfully deconstruct that acronym into it's full, but cumbersome form. Gambia Fried Chicken. It had air-conditioning, it had beer, and unexpectedly, had good pizza.

So, since the American tradition of 'eating out' on a regular basis is not fiscally responsible, what do people eat here? How do they manage? You're probably thinking lots and lots of rice, and you are correct. But only half correct.

Sugar......ridiculous amounts of sugar. And not just your run-of-the-mill, white, granulated sugar, but the thick, syrupy, sticky variety commonly known as sweetened condensed milk. It's amazing what you can do with it. You can add it to your tea, your nescafe, your juice. You can add kool-aid, and freeze it in little baggies to sell as 'ice'. You can reduce it over low heat, and roll it into little 'butterscotch' balls. It's everywhere. It's a phenomenon. As a side project, I think I'm going to start a diabetes awareness club.

Seeing the people here mixing it into everything, it's a bit akin to the 'ranch dippers' you find in America. My sister was one of those, putting ranch on french fries, baked potatoes, pinto beans, and sometimes salad. Since those days, I think she has detoxified, and is clean and sober. I'm proud of you, Amy.

--Junkung

Oh Crap!

"Junkung...... what is this?"

"Oh.....that, haha, um....whoa! don't open that....kana wo yele!..... wo mu buwo kabo kono le ti"

"Oh....Junkung, Junkung....haha."

Mumbala, one of the kids in my compound, almost opened a jar of my crap. I had to give a stool sample for what I suspected to be some sort of intestinal parasite. Probably Giardia. Look it up yourself. The symptoms have since waned, but it will come back to haunt me if it is indeed Giardia. I'm not sure exactly where I got it from; there are too many possibilities. But, what this means is that, at some point, I had eaten crap. Just thought that was noteworthy.

--Junkung

A friendly visit

The other day, I went to a Fula village the other day to visit my friend Abdullah, who works at the hospital. Fulas are known for raising cattle and for being light-skinned, beautiful people. Gambian hospitality is something to behold, especially with regards to eating. Right now it is harvest season, with the most notable crop being 'tiyoo' or peanuts. To recap our meals in 5 hour span:

First, we 'roasted' peanuts. The roasting process is a 13 year old boy's dream: You take the raw harvested peanuts, still attached to the peanut plant, throw a bunch of hay on them, and light them on fire. When there is nothing left but the charred peanuts, the roasting process is complete.

Before I'd finished my peanuts, a bowl of futoo with ninsi keke was brought. Futoo is pounded coos, and coos is essentially birdfeed. Ninsi keke is fresh cow's milk. Add a bit of salt, and it's delicious.

A little later I ate lunch twice, and both times I ate more than anyone else.... I'm such a fat American. Lunch was rice (what else) with fish and a peppery sauce.

To cap off my visit, I saw the oldest, saggiest boobs that I (hopefully) will ever see. It seems the women here wear shirts less often the older they get........

I will leave you all with that image now.

-Junkung

Give me football!

I've been here close to two months in Farafenni and I think slowly word's gotten out that there's a new toubab in town named Junkung. Apparently, all boys under the age of 16 think that all toubabs are an infinite source of soccer balls.... "My friend, give me football." Sure, kid, let's run over to my soccer ball orchard and pick one.

I haven't programmed a thing in a long, long time, so I'm going express this is pseudocode.... just for kicks.

Person GambianKidPrototype = new Person
GambianPrototype.name = "Mohammadu Bah"
GambianPrototype.skin_color = Black
GambianPrototype.actual_number_of_soccer_balls = 0.5
GambianPrototype.perceived_number_of_soccer_balls = 0

PeopleFactory.registerNewKindOfPerson("GambianKid", GambianKidPrototype)

Person ToubabPrototype = new Person
ToubabPrototype.name = "Toubab"
ToubabPrototype.skin_color = !Black
ToubabPrototype.actual_number_of_soccer_balls = 0
ToubabPrototype.perceived_number_of_soccer_balls = infinite

PeopleFactory.registerNewKindOfPerson("Toubab", ToubabPrototype)

//The following represents the indigenous population of young Gambian boys in Farafenni
for(i = 0;i < 6000; i++)
{
gambian_kid[i] = new PeopleFactory.create("GambianKid")
}

//The following expresses my arrival in town
Person new_guy = PeopleFactory.create("Toubab")
new_guy.name = "Junkung Ceesay"
new_guy.actual_number_of_soccer_balls = 0
new_guy.perceived_number_of_soccer_balls = infinite

//The following expresses a typical encounter with a Gambian kid while(new_guy.perceived_number_of_soccer_balls > 0 AND !new_guy.is_visibly_pissed_off)
{
gambian_kid.askForSoccerBall(new_guy)
}



The coded scenario above was executed the other day as I was walking home. A Gambian kid came up to me and said

"My friend, how are you?".

"Fine, Fine...... a be naadi?", I said, asking how things were in local language.

"You are my friend, you are very nice man."

"Thank you, thank you."

"You are going home?"

"Yes, I'm going home"

"Do you have football for me?"

.........screech!! I stopped and started to open my bag. The terror in the kid's eyes was palpable. I think he thought I was going to pull out a knife and stab him in the weenis. As he was backing away, I showed him my empty bag and said

"Does it look like I have a soccer ball?!"

"Sorry, sorry, no problem", and he scurried off.

Haha..... I totally snapped on the boy, and I felt absolutely no remorse. Good for me!

--Junkung

New Hobby

So I've taken up a new hobby here in Africa. Periodically, I take my rug, drape it over the wall in the backyard, and pound the crap out of it until my arms nearly fall off. Considering my alternatives here, this is an incredibly exciting activity. In West Africa, greetings are a huge part of the culture. Let's role play a typical greeting:

You: Salaamaleekum (Peace be upon you)

African Dude: Maleekumsalaam. Somandaa be naadi? (Peace be upon you too, How is the morning?)

You: Somandaa be jan doron. (The morning is here only.)

African Dude: Dookuwo be naadi? (How is the work?)

You: M baa kan doman doman (I'm on it, slowly, slowly)

Let's focus on that last phrase...... "I'm on it slowly, slowly. " Only after being here for about 100 days, do I realize how literal that statement is. Life is SLOW here. Work is SLOW here. In America, I had gotten used to working (relatively) hard and fast.....that's a shame. But not to knock the Gambian work ethic and lifestyle - they just have a different set of priorities and motivations. It's kind of refreshing and frustrating at the same time...... like beating an insane amount of dirt out of my rug, only to realize that I'm never, ever going to get all of the dirt out.

--Junkung

Farafenni

So, here I will be in Farafenni, The Gambia for the next 2 years. Farafenni is a sprawling metropolis of over 12000 people, which probably makes it about the 5th biggest city in The Gambia. So far its been good......but good grief is life slow here. My family is great and relatively small - compared to the enormous compound of 40+ people I had in training village - it's only 15 people. I have a host father, who is the Alimamo and retired cow's feet dealer, 2 host mothers, and several brothers and sisters. Also, my host father's brother and his family live in the compound. I have a one room, pentagon-shaped hut with a thatched roof and a big backyard with hearts painted all over it. My hut has been aptly titled 'The Penthouse'.

Considering I've been living alone for the last five years, it's been quite an adjustment adapting to a family living situation. People always ask where your going and when your coming back. They also 'borrow' things from you. And like just like my family at home, occasionally get on my nerves. Sometimes when I hear 'Junkung......Junkung', I want to throw my shoe at them. But don't get the wrong idea, I really do like being a part of a family, and I definitely do feel like I am part of the family.

I'm starting to learn my way around town - it only took a week for me to find the internet cafe. It's run by a couple by a couple Nigerian dudes, Martin and Sam, that I've become friends with. I've offered to try to fix some of their computers, to keep myself occupied..... and get free internet. Unfortunately in Farafenni you never really know when the lights are going to turn on. On Saturday, I waited 4 hours for power. And of course, I was informed that as soon as I left, it came on. Kinda sucks for an IT volunteer, but oh well, I guess it's all part of the PC experience....

My host brother Mumbala styling his best outfit....

Baraji also looking good...

Its Official Now

It’s official..... I am now a Peace Corps Volunteer. We had our swearing-in ceremony at the US Ambassador’s super posh pad. It was nice. Lots of other volunteers came to watch, and the whole thing was taped by a Gambian TV station. I had the honors of writing and giving a speech on behalf of our training group, with the help of Katie. She added the necessary thank you’s and did the translation in Mandinka.

Here it is, in its entirety.

KATIE: Folo, folo, m be Minister meŋ marata londoo bundaala kontoŋ na, m be Minister nomaŋkoolu fanaŋ kontoŋ na, me be Minister meŋ marata londi dumaŋ nko niŋ londi santoŋ nko la kontoŋ na, m be GTTI niŋ MDI ňatonkolu kontoŋ na. Americala Ambassador Barry Wells, alfaa buuňyariŋolu, Peace Corps dookuulalu, Peace Corps famboolalu, niŋ Peace Corps karandiŋolu, ali samaa. Ali bisimilahi jaŋ.

STEVO: Firstly, to the Minister of Education, Permanent Secretaries, Ministries of Basic, Secondary and Higher Education, Director General of GTTI and MDI, The US Ambassador his Excellency Barry Wells, Peace Corps Gambia Country Director Mike McConnell, Peace Corps staff including education APCD Linda Murgatroy, Peace Corps volunteer and fellow trainees, welcome. Thank you for being here.

KATIE: Mandinkoolu ko “yiri kuntoo si mee baa kono ňaa o ňaa a te kee noo la bamboo ti.”
Ntolu yiri kuntu taŋ niŋ saba le bota America toŋkoŋ naanoo be to, kaboo Alabama kataa California kataa Hawaii, ntolu le naata ňiŋ baŋkundiŋ diimaato, The Gambia. Ntolu moo kiliŋ o kiliŋ, denta feŋolu mennu la – woluu le mu, wakiilo, niŋ hakiilimaya, le ye ntolu be ke kiliŋ ti. ŋa niŋ kuolu mennu karaŋ America niŋ Gambia woolu le ye m parendi ka dokuwoke Gambia jaŋ.

STEVO: The Mandinkas say "How ever long a log stays in the pond, it will never become a crocodile."
Here we are, thirteen logs, from nearly every corner of the U.S, from Alabama to California to Hawaii, funneled into the small, the proud, the wonderful, The Gambia. Each of us, individuals; yet by the virtues we share - patience, determination, and a sense humor, we are one. And it is through these virtues, the skills we possess, and our training that we are ready to serve the The Gambian people.

KATIE: Ntolu jamma maŋ batundiro loŋ fo kabiriŋ ŋa Peace Corps safee ka ke famboolalu ti. Kabiriŋ nna safiroolu pareta moo doolu ye I batuu fo karisey jaŋ niŋ I be naala Gambia Jaŋ. Moodolu ye I batuu sanji fula niŋ taala jaŋ niŋ I be naala Gambia jaŋ. ŋa a loŋ ne ko m be taala Africa, bari maŋ a loŋ ko m be naala Gambia jaŋ. Kari jama kibarri koŋ ko ye muta katu maŋ a loŋ m be talaa minto le, m be kaŋ juma le karaŋna, maŋ a loŋ fanaŋ fo m be kuraŋo niŋ interneto soto la le fanaŋ, maŋ a loŋ fanaŋ domoroo be kela ňaadii le, a niŋ feŋ kotaŋolu. Nna ňinikaroolu jama jabiroo kakee menti wolemu maŋ a loŋ, nna dimbayalu, nna terrimalu, nna dimbayalu terrolu, docitarolu, ňiŋ doctarolu, insurance kundaalu, banki dokulalu a niŋ barkeeperlu. Woňaŋ woňaŋ ntolu kontineta nna kisikisiroo la kanna Gambia jaŋ. Ňiŋ kuwolu le ye attina faliŋdiro sifaa o sifaa domandiŋo walla naafariŋo be betiyaata.

STEVO: Most of us never knew the meaning of patience until experiencing the Peace Corps application process. Upon commencement of our applications, some waited as "few" as eight months to finally arrive in The Gambia. Others waited nearly two and a half years. For the majority of the process, we only knew we were going to "Sub-Saharan Africa", not "The Gambia". For months, we were starved for more information about where we would be going, what language we would be speaking, whether we would have electricity or internet, and what the food would be like, among other things. Our resolves were further tested each time we answered "I don't know yet" to another question from family, friends, coworkers, and other acquaintances. But now see through this fog of uncertainty. It is this newfound bounty of patience that will remind us throughout our service that any change, no matter how small or slow, is worthwhile.

KATIE: Ntolu be wakiliriŋ. Kana jaŋ miro munuŋ mira koleŋ ba le ti moo o moo ye ntolu kono. Ntolu moo o moo jita collego lu to America wo ye ntolu parendi ka falindiroo ke. Ntolu be keta kiliŋ ne ti ka bonaŋ America ka nna dimabayalu nna kafuňoolu niŋ dokuňolu bee tu America kanaa ke faŋbolalu ti Gambia. Taride kujama le sotota nuŋ ňiŋ kuolu to bari woňaŋ woňaŋ ntolu be jaŋ. ŋa n faŋ forisee ka manoo ke dasamoo, kontoŋo niŋ simaŋo ti wo ye atara ntolu lafita cheeseburger walla veggieburger le la. Ntolu tamata kataa karasoto mbuletaa Gele-Gelelu la maŋ a loŋ nuŋ fo ntaŋ kata walla maŋ tanka. ŋa Peace Corps karandiŋ ya baŋ dokujama le kono watoo dolu n ka lafi sinoola bari mbuka sinoo no katu dokuwoo siiyata nuŋ jauwke. Bari wolee ye attinna bii m be kela famboolalu ti niŋ banko kaŋ.

STEVO: We are determined. Making the decision to come here is perhaps the most monumental decision that any of us has made in our life. Each and everyone one of us is armed with a college degree and a passion for positive change. We are united in our decision to defer the American career path for two years in favor of volunteer service, leaving behind everything and everyone we know for this opportunity. There have been many chances to stumble along this journey, yet we are all still here, intact. We've forced ourselves to eat rice for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, when sometimes, all we want is a cheeseburger (or veggieburger). We've worked up the courage to step aboard a Gele-Gele, wondering whether our lives were in danger. We've completed our Peace Corps Training Directed Activities and Blank Session Forms, when many of us would have rather taken a nap. But, it is this unique opportunity we have starting today, as volunteers, that has kept us focused.

KATIE: Karaŋdiŋo te taranola Gambia niŋ a manke saysayoo ti. Folo folo ntolu ye a mira ko kudoolu koleyata nuŋ bari sayiŋ woolu be le soneyata Peace Corps la kuwo kammala. Sutoo doolu koleyata katu ntolu ka tara kamoo kunto, watoodo n ka bala kuraŋ kawakuwolu soto, malaria booroo la ňaama, tiloo fanaŋ ka moolu batandi fo la baŋola Florida nkolu ňaa bota nna, a niŋ luntaŋolu maŋ lafi ka meŋ jiyaa menu bukoo tombolu a niŋ suusuulaalu. Niŋ taliŋolu be keta ntolu ye faŋ warra baa le ti; a niŋ n ka a sata ňooye ňaa meŋ n ka sutuya ňoola wolee ňsamba. Sanji fula naala be koleyala bake, bari ntolu niŋ jelo niŋ muuyoo be a waliŋ kaŋ.

STEVO: A trainee cannot survive without a sense of humor. Situations that may once have seemed scary or intimidating can now be dismissed as simply being a part of The Peace Corps experience: Long, sweaty nights spent hanging over the pit latrine, mysterious skin infections, prophylaxis-induced fantasies, sunburns that would make a Florida beach envious, and uninvited guests of the feral sort in our huts; each harrowing tale has become a badge of honor; each experience shared among us has brought us closer together. The next two years will, no doubt, be filled with an abundance of trying times, best served with a smile and a laugh.

KATIE: Ntolu yaa kata ňaa o ňaa nte loo noola jaŋ niŋ maŋ demaroo soto moolu bulu. Peace Corps dokulalu ali maŋ ňoŋ soto. Ali la mira kendo ka Gambia yiriwandi wo le ye attina ntolu be haňiriŋ dokuwola. Ntolu kontanita ka tara woo mira kendo kono. Nna kontodiri kendo be Mike McConnell, Linda Murgatroy, Gibril Sumbundo, Rodney Stubina, Patti Gregory, Gisele Gnavi, Mohammadou Bah, Sarjo Dumbaya, Bakary Kamara, Babocar Sala, Haddy Sowe, Adam Njie, Alpha Jallow, Anne Larson, Chris Chapman, Travis Reese a niŋ Peace Corps dryfolu. Peace Corps la karaŋdiri kafoo meŋ be Gambia le betiyata duňiya karaŋdiri kafoolu be ti. Ali Abaraka jawke!! Nna kanumoolu mennu be America, alaa baraka kaatu niŋ ntolu jaakalita ali ka n sabarindi le. Ntolu ňaa maŋ maa alila kanoo kaŋma. Nna Gambia terrikendolu fanaŋ ye maakoy ka sabati jaŋ a niŋ ka nna dokuwo keenoo. M bee kafuuriŋo ňookaŋ n sii nna sanji taŋ naani niŋ fula dokukendo samba ňaato.

STEVO: In spite of the virtues that we possess, we could not possibly be standing here without the tremendous support we have received. To all of the Peace Corps staff, you are truly talented and special. It is your vision and commitment to bettering the lives of Gambians that makes a volunteer's service here a success. We are happy just to be a part of that vision. A special thanks to Mike McConnell, Linda Murgatroy, Gibril Sumbundo, Rodney Stubina, Patti Gregory, Gisele Gnavi, Mohammadou Bah, Sarjo Dumbaya, Bakary Kamara, Babocar Sala, Haddy Sowe, Adam Njie, Alpha Jallow, Anne Larson, Chris Chapman, Travis Reese, and all the Peace Corps drivers - the Peace Corps Gambia training team is undoubtedly the greatest in the world. To our loved ones in America, you are there when we need a familiar voice. We are only sane because of your love. To our fellow Gambians, we couldn't imagine a more genuinely welcoming and friendly place to serve. With our combined determination, we will continue the beautiful partnership we have held for the last forty two years.

KATIE: Ntolu moo o moo be parereeriŋ koleya kuolu mennu be sotola ňaato dokuwokono. ŋa a mira niŋ ntolu seyta America dokukendo niŋ be taala ňaato waati o waati anduŋ n niŋ nna lundoo be seyla America fanaŋ. Peace Corps famboola kotolu bee sonta ko Peace Corps londoo buka moo nene ila baluwo kono mumeeke. N sonta fanaŋ ko Gambia nkolu fanaŋ be Naatota baa le soto la Peace Corps nkolu buluu waati o waati. Niŋ taata America ŋa mira ntolu la taroo jaŋ be nafaa jamma le soto la ňiŋ baŋkundiŋ diimaato, The Gambia.

KATIE: Each of us will draw upon our patience, determination, and sense of humor to face the challenges that lie ahead. When the day arrives for us to return home, we are convinced that these virtues will not simply dissolve. As any returned volunteer will attest, the Peace Corps experience is one that will have a lasting effect on the rest of our lives, and the lives of our host country partners - the small, the proud, the wonderful, The Gambia.




Here's some clips from the ceremony:

Moments before swear in.....

Bits and Pieces of the speech.

Receiving our certificates....

The Wurukong Training Village: Kadii, Junkung, Our trainer Adam, Auntie Nyima, Tombong

The entire training group......Boopam!

--Junkung

Goodbye Training Village

Today is the first day of Ramadan. For those who don’t know what that is, it is the annual month-long fast that is one of the five pillars of Islam. This is a REAL fast, as in NO food or water is taken while the sun is out. Additionally, devout Muslims starting at the ripe old age of eight do not partake of anything that could considered ‘excessive’ during the day, e.g. smoking, drinking attaya, dancing, having sex, etc. And they do (or don’t do) all of this with a smile on their face. I know, it sounds like these people are out of their minds. Honestly, I think it’s a beautiful thing. It sort of puts Lent to shame. Christians in America give up soda for 40 days......... weak.

So I finally broke out my camera and took some pictures with my host family. It makes me a little sad to leave.

Wonto, Aja, and I

Me and my host sister Wonto

I’m near the end of my training, staying at Tendaba Camp, which is allegedly a birder’s paradise. We took a long trek through the bush (14.5 miles), aptly titled ‘Marathon March’. (Okay, so maybe it’s more like a half marathon). We started early in the morning and walked through Kiang National Forest. This was no ordinary hike, for what it lacked in elevation changes it made up for with the searing heat, shin-deep mud, and flooded rice fields that required a bit of a swim. This is all the more interesting because our Gambian guide, Lamin, couldn’t swim. It kind of baffles me that in a country that is almost entirely a river, its people can’t even dog-paddle.

Along the way, we saw a lot of baboons. The alpha male in a troop can be pretty scary. All in all, The Gambia is a really beautiful country. I hope to see all of it before I’m gone.

Here we go......

The river on the horizon

There's something in the trees.....

A collective effort to rescue our Gambian guide

A Slice of Training Village Life

Wow......what a journey it’s been. As I begin writing this, it will be exactly the second time I have turned on my computer. The not so crazy thing about it is that I could be perfectly content not doing so, except that I would not have a medium to share my experience with all of you. I’ve been here exactly one month, and currently my situation is the following:

The only sources of light available to me right now are my flashlight, the moon, and the computer screen.

I just ate some really good Durango, followed by a bucket bath.

I am living in a Mandinka training village.

I have no clothes on.......and I’m still sweating (let your imaginations run wild)

I can hear my host family outside...........Gambians don’t sleep.

I’m 10 lbs lighter.

There are a million things I could say right now that would be cool and super interesting, but I’ll focus on something that happened kunung ko (the day before yesterday). About 7:30 am, my fellow trainees and I hopped aboard a Gele-Gele, or bush taxi, for the first time. A Gele ride is about 2 steps beyond a spin in Fred Flintstone’s car, but with the same level of passenger-per-cubic foot economy that some of our Latin American friends employ in America. At one point, we had stopped to pick up a few passengers, and I heard a bleating noise. Goats are as populous a people here, so I didn’t think anything about it until I realized that the noise was coming from the roof of the Gele. Yes, for an additional charge, you can bring your most prized barnyard animal to your destination. Our Gele ride took us to Soma, which is a big market town. On our way back a funny thing happened. We had just dumped off a few passengers, when suddenly 10 minutes later we came to an abrupt stop. My language trainer, Adama, was yelling at a man, in Mandinka, walking down the road in the opposite direction. He came to the Gele and she handed him a bag of raw chicken. Apparently, one of our other language trainers, Bakary, who had just gotten off, left his chicken. Adama had told the guy to return the chicken to Bakary on his way back to wherever he was going. And Bakary got his chicken. That would not work in America on sooooo many levels. Hahaha....

--Stevo (Junkung Ceesay)

Here's a picture of some important people in my village during my naming ceremony. The Marabout (fortune teller) is in the center.

Here's a picture of Junkung Camara (now Ceesay). My host father and the Alkalo (Chief) is in the blue.

Here's a picture of the good ole' pit latrine... where my personal hygiene takes place. It's a lizard fiesta.

And here's my hut, home to ants, rats, and the occasional gecko.

My Super Awesome Last Day

What would you do if you had one last day in America? The beach? Disney World? I have been given that opportunity; and what am I doing? Squat! And I wouldn't have it any other way. I am lounging around my Mom's place, waiting for a massage from my brother..........it's ok, he's a massage therapist. Also on the agenda this evening are a long hot shower, some good ole' southern cookin' - chicken, mashed potatoes, fried okra - and getting my iPod loaded with awesome songs.

I'm packed and ready to go. The Peace Corps imposed an 80 lb and 107 linear inch limit on my checked bags. My bags are about 40 lbs and 90 inches.......and they're pretty dense. I'm not sure how you could exceed 80 lbs unless you're packing horseshoes. For those curious what one packs for 2+ years, here you go, in order of importance:

• planner
• journal
• knives (lots)
• knife sharpener
• hand-crank flashlight
• tennis shoes
• nalgene bottles (2)
• Calendars with Family/Friend pictures
• Universal converter plugs w/surge protection (2)
• spoon, fork, knife
• recorder (Yes, the musical instrument that everyone quit playing in 5th grade)
• harmonica
• Glasses (2)
• Camera
• Gambia Map
• US Map
• Hat
• Rain jacket
• Mp3 players (old Dell DJ, and iPod shuffle)
• small backpack
• sandals
• scissors
• calculators (I'm dusting off the ole' TI-85 from college)
• laptop
• ruggedized external hard drive
• various computer cables
• pens/pencils
• Ziploc bags
• spatula
• measuring cups
• compression sack (2)
• Ultimate Disc (2)
• vegetable peeler
• Dominion card game
• playing cards
• digital camera memory cards
• t-shirts (3)
• underwear (14)
• zipoff pants
• athletic shorts
• blank DVDs
• swimsuit
• jeans
• Toothbrush
• Dental Floss
• books
• roll-on suitcase
• duffel bag
• Hand Towels (2)
• Towel
• Washcloths (2)
• Pillow cases (2)
• flat bedsheets (2 pair)
• Pillow
• kitchen knife
• us stamps
• gifts for host family (Pictures, Gyroscopes, and space shuttle toys)
• Waterproof watch w/batteries
• spices
• Can opener
• thumbdrive (2)
• Batteries (lots)
• duct tape, packing tape
• earplugs
• Good razors
• deodorant
• shaving cream
• socks (4 pair)
• Button up shirts (3)
• pants
• battery charger 120/240 AC
• Toothpaste
• Sunscreen
• Clif Bars
• Skin lotion
• Diaper rash cream (For occasional bouts of RAS)
• Peace Corps documentation

I leave for Philly tomorrow at 6 AM (ick), and then on to The Gambia the next day. I will have internet access on July 3rd..............then I will enter the internet detoxification program, where I am deprived until August 28th! I'm totally going to relapse.

I'm super-pumped and nervous at the same time. Wish me luck.

--Stevo

Muy Loco!

On Thursday evening, after saying my goodbyes to the Ultimate crew, I decided to hit up 'The Nook' (The best 'good beer place' in Huntsvegas) with a couple of friends. Driving, I begin to take a left turn.......BOOM!!!!!.......my car skids clockwise. What just happened?!

I find myself stationary in the middle of the intersection; the perpetrator of this accident is about 200 feet further down the road, stationary. I get out of my car, see that there is a third car involved and run to see if they are ok. A girl about my age is in the car, shaken, but physically ok. I run back to the other car......but there's no one in it! A Hit'n Run.......but the guy actually got out of his car and literally ran. I stood around for about 25 minutes, answering questions, when some friends saw my plight and decided to come stand around and keep me company. As I stood and talked, I inspected the empty car - It was a total piece of crap, had a flaming skull sticker on the window, something that I swore was a dead animal in the backseat; but the thing that takes the cake is his tag on the front said 'Muy Loco'......haha. I'm willing to bet the guy was an illegal immigrant and/or had no car insurance, so I guess he didn't have much choice.

Previous to this incident, I'd had been given quite a few sendoffs........ a surprise party, family get-togethers, some very flattering treatment from the company I work for, and other outings. I'm definitely feeling the love from everyone. At the end of it all, I guess you could say my time in Huntsville ended with a bang.

--Stevo

Uncle Larry?

Saturday, my friends Destin, Sean, Eric, and myself were a third of the way through our disc golf round at the park, when Des decided to take a slight detour because for some reason his wife, Tara, had shown up at one of the picnic pavilions. Seemed like a weird time to take a break - I had just pwned the last hole......but whatever. 

We walked through the park, passing lots of super hyped-up kids at the playground and several cookouts before we spotted Tara's van. In my peripheral, I saw somebody I recognized,  but it wasn't Tara. "Uncle Larry?..........what are you doing here?". He gave me his characteristic mustache-laden smirk, chuckled a little bit, and then quite suddenly, all these other people I knew happened to materialize right in front of me. I had been had! 

I've always told myself that I would NEVER be caught off guard if I were ever to be thrown a surprise party.......Fail. After coming to grips with the situation, I realized that it's waaay cooler to be surprised.

After chatting with folks and eating, a large group of us played disc golf. We played a 3-person per team scramble skins game (Comprende?). Allow me to indulge myself - I hit 3 super aweso

me putts, one of which was from about 60 feet. This is uncharacteristic of my golf game, which consists of shots such as "Crap, that slipped", 'Dink!!!', and "Fooorrr!!". We played till the sun went down and no one lost a disc till the last hole. Good times.

As I drove home I began realizing that I'm giving up a lot by leaving. At the same time, I was reminded that I've got a lot to come back to once I'm finished with my Peace Corps assignment. While I'm sleeping under my mosquito net sweating my butt off, that will be a comforting thought.

--Stevo

Philly

Sweet nizzy!! This morning I received an email from the Peace Corps informing me that I'll be flying to Philadelphia on June 30 for my staging event. 'Staging' is a short, but intense, orientation that I have to attend before I'm shipped off the The Gambia. Lots of administrivia, shots (gotta watch out for rabid monkeys), and other semi-boring stuff to be sure, but I'm super pumped about meeting all my fellow trainees! 

Around lunchtime I set up my flight to Philly with the PC travel office, and I talked to a nice Indian-sounding guy that I could tell was a super funny dude in his native tongue, but the jokes weren't quite ready for American consumption. I'm going to be the American-Gambian version of that guy for the next two years. Apparently, one of my fellow trainees had just booked the same flights that I had, so I'll get a headstart meeting people on the way to staging.

I've only been to Philly once; A road trip with my bro and my friend Joe to see Primus. We drove 11 hours non-stop and waited outside all day to meet the band  (We did, of course). We drove home immediately afterwards and attempted to make it all the way back without stopping to sleep. It worked out fine, until 'BOOM!!!'...... I woke in the back seat with my life flashing before my eyes. It took me about 5 seconds to figure out that I hadn't actually died. "We just hit safety strip on road, we're good." Not according to side of the car. It had a huge gash along the entire driver side. I swear we must have stopped 10 times to take a nap after that, but we made it back. Maybe this time I might see a little more of 'The City  of Brotherly Love' than Primus, and get some sleep to boot.

I've started packing, or rather, buying a bunch of crap and making a big heaping pile out of it. I've got to whittle it down to 80 pounds and 107 linear inches, which is really about 2 small checked bags and a carry-on. I went to Europe for three weeks purely on carry-on baggage, so I think I'll manage.

                                                  

                           

It's really starting to hit me that this all for real. When I first got my invitation, I couldn't get things done fast enough; I was slightly overwhelmed (breath slowly........in......out.......very good).  I've got it all under control now.  

Salalmamleekum (Peace be upon you)

--Stevo

My Application Experience

So.....after all this time (28 years) I have something interesting to talk/blog about! For the next two and a half years, this blog will be my attempt to share my experiences as a Peace Corps volunteer in The Gambia. Hopefully, they'll consist of more than malaria and sunburn. For now, we'll keep it nice and boring and I'll describe how I came to be an invitee.

On April 27, 2009, after 6 months of exercising an amount of patience usually reserved for members of the clergy, I received my official invitation to serve as an Information & Communication Technology Specialist in The Gambia, departing on June 29. Anyone who has seriously contemplated joining the PC knows that the application process isn't exactly like turning in an application to McDonald's. In November 2008, I finally worked up the nerve after mulling the idea over for about a year.

It took about a month for me to get my application filled out, including the essays, resume, and recommendations. The recommendations were tough. I needed a recommendation from my immediate supervisor, whom I swore to secrecy for about 5 months. The man can keep a secret, that's for certain. (Cheers, Greg) As soon as I turned in the application, I had an interview within a week at the regional office in Atlanta. I got hit with a few generic interview questions, but it went well and within another week I was officially nominated for ICT in Sub-Saharan Africa. I received my medical packet a few days later, just before Christmas.

When I'd been told about the medical clearance process by my recruiters, I thought "I'm in good health....should be a piece of cake." More like a canned biscuit after it's been sitting out for a few hours. I had my first appointment on Jan 2; I became medically cleared in the middle of March. I think what took so long was the clinic having taken the wrong hepatitis titer TWICE. Not real sure. By the time it was completed, the folks at the clinic all knew me by name....which wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Upon medical clearance, I completed a computer science skills addendum from my placement officer. On April 8, (my birthday) I was informed via the Online Toolkit that my placement had been completed. I should know any day now, right? For 3 weeks, at approximately 5:45 pm, I opened my little mailbox, sighed, and slammed the poor thing shut. I eventually got impatient, and called the Africa Placement Office wondering when I could expect my invitation. I think I got the standard consolatory email from Peace Corps, which didn't do a whole to make me less anxious. 3 days later, BAM!! One moment, a June departure seemed so far away, but quite suddenly it seemed so soon.

For those prospective volunteers who might have googled there way onto this blog,
know that while the whole process might seem frustrating, the important thing is to stay
positive throughout. I am anxious to begin my training, and learn the true meaning of
patience and determination!

Peace
--Stevo