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