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...