Election Day is Coming

Mark it on your calendars, folks. November 24th is Thanksgiving.... For 'Merka. But here in the sunny, skinny, smiling coast of The Gambia, it will be Election Day. You probably wonder how it works over here. Negative campaigning? Check. Protests? Not that I've seen. Violence? Nada.

This year there are 3 candidates. We have the incumbent, Yahya Jammeh, Lawyer Ousainou Darboe of the United Democratic Party , and the independent candiadate Hamat Bah of the United Front, which represents at least four political parties. The campaigning constitutionally began on November 12, although there were quite a few billboards already erected for the ruling party some weeks before that. Among the billboards are "Vote for him in 2011 as your sacred duty" and "Gambian women LOVE the President". There are quite a few restrictions on who is allowed to become a presidential candidate, but I did learn that you need to submit a check for D10,000 (~$350) to Independent Electoral Commission (IEC). I wonder how much it is in the U.S.

I'm new to Gambian political campaigns, but this time around there's a sense that the outcome is not already predetermined. The opposition candidates are speaking out against the current regime more than they have in the past, focusing mostly on the issues. This is good for The Gambia.

If you're interested in what's going down, check out these online newspapers:

http://observer.gm/

http://www.foroyaa.gm/modules/news/

http://hellogambia.com/

http://thepoint.gm/

http://www.freedomnewspaper.com/

Kuliyo diyaata le nung

The last couple months have been interesting for me. I left Jigimar-Farafenni in tears, drifted around for a couple months living out of a suitcase, and have now found my situated in a rather swank living arrangement here in Saateebaa (Big Village) Brikama. And by swank, I mean 3 rooms of intermittent electricity, with a flushing toilet, and cold shower. But I guess that beats waking up every morning lightly coated with grass, dirt, and tiny little termites.

 You may be thinking to yourself "This guy's moved up in the world". That thought is correct. I am a visiting lecturer at The University of The Gambia (UTG), so a man in my position can't be suffering from a lack of basic needs. Because, that just looks bad. And in this country, image is everything. 

When I'm not busy cultivating my image, I'm just, well, busy. When I lived in Farafenni, one of my goals in a day might have been "Today I'm going to show Fatou how to print something on the computer". Now, my goals are "Today, I'm going to finish the lecture slides for CPS101 and CPS212 and load them on the class server. Oh, and maybe I should go ahead and start grading their last assignment too." It's not easy. But rewarding.


The students are the best this country has to offer. Some of them are legitimately good and can actually program. But they're suckers, since I've lured them in to playing pickup Ultimate for some (paltry) bonus points. Or maybe they just really like Ultimate; which is exciting because I had 25 people last time and had to make two fields.

But enough about the new Stevo. Let's revisit the old Stevo. I did. Last weekend when I went back to Farafenni to visit my family for a naming ceremony. The event was pretty standard as far as naming ceremonies go: 3 big meals, 3 dead ungulates, more than 3 old ladies asking for money, and of course, alot of music, dancing, and drumming.

A couple things that stuck about the weekend were:

An old lady asking for money stole my brother's attaya cups for not giving her money.

I shared a bed with a random guy named "Manlafi", which means "not wanted" in Mandinka. Don't worry, I'm perfectly safe.

-Bless

And now, time for some pictures.

Toulaye = cute

Serra and the mother of the baby, Yama.

These guys stole the party

This boy likes chatting too much

Baba accepting big money as head of the compound

She came bearing gifts

And more gifts

Apparently, this guy is important. When he greeted me, the first thing he asked for was money. I don't care how long I live here, that will always be rude.

What did you expect, a Thanksgiving turkey?

This was actually a combination wedding/naming ceremony. Not exactly sure what's going on here, but that's the bride/mother

It's never a bad time to answer your mobile

Regularly posting a blog: It's not easy

So, I realized today that it's been more than two months since I've posted a blog. I have plenty of excuses for this, but mainly they are

I'm lazy.

It's hot. *

I've been here so long nothing surprises me anymore. **

I've been here so long everyone nothing surprises anyone else anymore.

I'm not 100% sure that anyone actually reads this.

It's Ramadan. ***

and....

It's not easy.



* Heat is a pretty standard excuse here, which is almost always followed by the phrase "It's not easy." Actually, any excuse here is followed by "It's not easy." Example: "Computa, it's not easy." or "To get a Visa, it's not easy."

** I walked into a bathroom the other day and saw a giant snail eating a roll of toilet paper. What surprised me the most was the fact that there was a roll of tp.

*** Ramadan started August 1st this year. It will end some time at the end of the month depending on the moon. When people break their fast at sundown, they normally eat bread. That means huge lines at the bakery in the big town. People wait for hours just to buy bread. Ramadan is a month of no food, water, smoking, sex, or any other form of enjoyment during the daylight hours. For muslims, it is a reminder that there are people in the world that are going hungry or being deprived of pleasure. This makes them more likely to give alms, which is one of the 5 Pillars of Islam. I urge you to go to wikipedia to learn the other 4. 

I myself have not been fasting. Every day Gambians will ask "I sunta?", which means "Did you fast?". I usually say something along the lines of I'm too scared to fast. But really, just I enjoy eating. I have fasted a couple times, and I think that's all experience I need. On a gele the other day, the apparante (driver's assistant) was falling asleep on the job because he was tired from fasting. I joked with the other people in the car that he wasn't interested in making money. Joking back he asked me if I was fasting. I sheepishly said no, and then agreed with him that "It's not easy". Which in this case is actually true.

--Junkung Ceesay

Deep Thoughts

The other day I went to bum some sugar from my family, mostly because I was too lazy to walk to the shop and buy some. That act of laziness got me in an introspective mood. Here are my thoughts.

I'm willing to borrow things TO people. I'm also willing to borrow things FROM people.

My backyard is now a chicken coop, which houses an enormous chicken. *

I don't use toilet paper. Instead I use old Peace Corps newsletters. 

I lost 20 pounds. Then gained 10. I feel not fat. **

I could probably drink water out of a Shell Station toilet now and be ok.

I now have a tattoo, sort of.

My Happy 50th Birthday Rusty shirt has spoiled, but I refuse to get rid of it.

I can grow a mustache. I've been immortalized on Facebook.


Now, of course, these were not the only thoughts that I've ever had, nor that surfaced during my meditative session. Just thoughts.

Moving on.

By end of June, I will have moved from my awesome 5-sided hut on the cusp of the bush to a more urban and probably quadrilateral place in Brikama. Brikama is home to the single most legitimate learning institution in the country and I intend to teach programming there. While the last two years have been a challenge in their own right, they haven't been a technical challenge. I've got the itch to do some programming; a fever I would say. And the only prescription is more cowbell. So wish me me luck as I begin to wrap up my Peace Corps career with this new endeavor.



* My host mother came to me one afternoon wanting know if she could use some extra chicken wire I had laying around. Sure, no problem. I went away for some Peace Corps business for a couple weeks. A came back to find this monstrosity of a chicken in my backyard, along with a stud rooster, who was dwarfed by this hen. So business savvy, that mother of mine.

** Here's my secret to my not-feeling-fatness: 
- Rice to eat, lot's of it. 
- Water to drink, lots of it. 
- Natural exercise, not necessarily a lot of it. (e.g. push-ups, pull-ups, sit-ups, yoga)
- Biking, a little bit of it. 

That's it. After living here for two years, I realize that we Americans are physically pathetic. Sit in the car and drive to work, sit in front of a computer and do work, sit in the car and drive home, sit in the chair and watch the television, lay down in the bed and go to sleep. No physical exertion. The short little walks to the fridge don't count. We even maintain our lawns sitting down. We've evolved (or have been designed) to walk upright, even run at times. If we humans were a species whose intended mode of locomotion was sitting, then we'd all look like Jabba the Hut. (And some of us do.) In all my time here in Africa, I've seen TWO fat kids. Two. And the family of one of them owns a restaurant. So... there's no reason why people can't walk anywhere that's within a mile radius of home. That's a twenty minute walk. In the age of DVR and Tivo, if people have time to watch their 4th favorite sitcom, they can take the time to walk to the grocery store or to the take-out chinese place. It's not that hot, trust me. My testicles are sweating as I type this. But it might be cold, so wear a jacket.

Sierra Leone, Baby!

I know what you're thinking... isn't this blog about The Gambia? Well, I decided that The Gam is old news. I mean, I've been here almost two years now, and I'm sure my diatribes about mangos and diarrhea have gotten tiresome. So... Sierra Leone it is.

I went there once. It was awesome. The end.



...







...





What, you can't just take my word for it? Fine... blogging can be so tedious sometimes.

There's a lot of reasons I decided to go to "Mountain Lion" (literally translated), including
1) I needed a vacation
2) It's not The Gambia
3) I'm in West Africa already
4) My friend Regan is a volunteer there, who also happens to be, by the same mother and father, the sister of my other friend Destin.
5) Peace Corps has pretty much restricted me from traveling to any other West African country. (Doesn't Cote D'Ivoire sound awesome right now?)
6) It's cheap.


The trip all started with Destin flying into Dakar, Senegal. I traveled up there, in relatively smooth fashion* , picked him up, and the very next morning he got some XP for the 8 hour trip back. I don't want to dilute the Sierra Leone experience, so to summarize Destin's time in The Gambia, we almost gave Des a heat stroke, blew the minds of school kids by launching a model rocket, and taught my family a magic trick. 

We flew into Freetown and met with Regan. The thing that impressed me right off the bat was Regan, not Sierra Leone. Somehow within our first 20 minutes of being in Freetown we managed to eat, change money, and get a car to her village without moving. All was possible with her ability to speak English poorly. In SL, Krio is the lingua franca. Krio is pidgin English and is hilarious. The second thing that impressed me was that there are hills. And trees.

We piled 6 people into a taxi with four seats and made it to a town near her village in about 3 hours. At one point, one of the guys sharing the front seat had to get out and walk through a police checkpoint because it's technically illegal to fill a car beyond its seating capacity **. In town, the third thing that I was impressed by was PINEAPPLE. I love pineapple, but it's "a mang soto" in The Gambia. From there, we took a car to Regan's village, Mano. Destin and I collectively had about 3 hours of sleep, but within the first 24 hours in Mano we had a football match played in our honor, a dance party thrown in our honor, ate monkey soup, saw a dead 8-foot cobra on the road, had a chat with suspects involved in robbing Regan's house, held a monkey, slaughtered a chicken, and went to church. 

Our remaining time there was spent more leisurely. Over the next four days, we only taught multiplication to middle schoolers, swam with naked people in the river, and slaughtered a goat.

The fourth thing that impressed me was perhaps the best part of the trip. Regan's headmaster at school took us to a neighboring village about 2 miles away. This little place near the village is one most spectacular places I've been. We hiked to a section of the river where there is a beach, a swimming hole, rapids, and little old ladies panning for gold. If I were Regan I would apply for a site transfer to that very spot immediately. After basking in the magnificence of such a place, we decided it was time to make our way back to Freetown for a couple days before we headed back home. 

The only things I can say about Freetown are that it is dirty, crowded, and it contains the fifth thing that impressed me - the beach. Because SL is on the rebound from civil war, the tourism sector has not yet recovered. This means that the beaches are relatively devoid of other tourists and bumsters***.

Basically, everything about our trip went swimmingly, until we tried to fly. The Freetown airport SUCKS. Our flight was delayed by three and a half hours, the airport restaurant tried to overcharge us for cokes, and sadly, Destin had his Gerber stolen from his checked bag.

So, the verdict on Sierra Leone: Awesome for West African Peace Corps Volunteers who don't have anything valuable. For other folks, well, there's about 200 other countries in world.


* The car I was in only broke down three times. The driver eventually fixed the radiator hose with super glue and an empty water bag.

** Capacity, I have learned, is a relative term in Africa.

*** Bumster - a sleazy and probably attractive African dude who solicits old European women for financial favors, uhumm... free of charge.

I'm the white guy.

Best river ever

A random Icelander and Hollander that passed through Mano

Not cute. He bit me twice.

The village equivalent of the Wal-Mart parking lot on saturday evening

Destin was serenaded with song by these old ladies

That was a goat once.

This lady is making country cloth the old school way

Grossest thing I've seen in a while

Yes

The boys are not wearing clothes. As for myself....

A view from the old railroad bridge, which is actually the sixth thing that impressed me.

Okay.... so I'm gonna steal thunder from Sierra Leone and sneak in a few Gambia pictures, taken courtesy of Destin.

My sister's comment was that I look nice. I'll admit to that... but what's that in my pocket?

Baraji, fresh off the kill

I am here

The Kankurang

WARNING! This blog contains a spoiler for children under the age of 11.

uhum...
It seems that every culture has its own tradition of fictional characters that come to life in the form of some guy plunging himself into a hot, sweaty, silly, suit and acting the part. We toubabs have the traditions of Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the every so stealthy Tooth Fairy (Seriously, how does she really manage to slip a quarter under my pillow? My pride refuses to accept any explanation that accuses her of being anything other than nonfictional and magical.) Here in West Africa, we have the Kankurang, or Kankurang-O for Mandinkas.

So what exactly is this Kankurang? The Kankurang looks like the result of an encounter between Cousin It and Swamp Thing at a very hazily recollected frat party - with machetes. Now here is where I shroud the Kankurang in mystery and leave you asking 'why?'. Because people here like to keep some aspects of their culture a secret, I have deleted my narrative about the purpose of the Kankurang and what happens during the ceremony when he is conjured from the bush. Cruel to leave you hanging, I know.

Anyway, the Kankurang is a pretty cool tradition (I swear) - way more awesome than an old fat guy, a giant bunny, or a mosquito wearing a tutu. Our traditions would never catch on in West Africa, because old fat guys don't exist, bunnies don't either, and the tooth fairy would be carrying malaria. 

--Bless 'dem

What I do for $180 a month

I've been gone well over a year now... 1 year, 4 months, and 26 days to be more precise. So, what have I actually been doing during all this time besides crapping and eating rice? Believe it or not, I'm incredibly busy these days.

At the moment, my big project is a Tour-de-Gambia IT Workshop. Another volunteer, Jame Gomez (That's his Gambian name...boring I know. He lives in a Christian compound), and I have collaborated on a pretty sweet interactive IT manual with videos and we're workshoppin' to support it. Participants will receive training from "IT experts from Europe", get some free CDs, and bean sandwiches. Its a gonna be good.

Interestingly, in this country, people expect to be paid to attend a workshop or conference. Completely the opposite of America...where you can pay hundreds, even thousands of dollars to attend. This is an outrage. I mean, why, would an 8 foot tall Wookie wanna hang out with a bunch of 2 foot tall Ewoks? It makes no sense, ladies and gentlemen, it makes no sense. I rest my case.

I am starting a library club at one of my schools. As a part of the club, I'm going to have a competition where students break into pairs and score points by finding the answers to questions in the library. My first task for them was to make their team name using alliteration. Among the names were Body Bone, Excellent Elephants, Fashionable Friends, and Double Dragon.... I laughed so hard when I saw that. The kids thought I was crazy. If they only knew about 8 bit Nintendo. But seriously, I think getting kids to be active in the library is one the best things a volunteer can do here. They all say "Reading is my problem". I always reply with "It will always be your problem until you start doing it". Books are good.

Also I'm playing a lot of Ultimate with kids at the football fields. They love it. You wouldn't believe how quickly they learn. Some kids can throw a good flick in only a few tries. I've given a few discs out to kids in the area, so thanks for donating discs! I'm hoping to get a couple of teams formed over the next few months. I will strongly advocate for alliterative team names.

Change the beat!

Here's a few pics from this year's Tobaski.

Kadi Faye doin' what she does

This boy loves Tobaski too much

The worst beard ever, but also the best Tobaski Komplet

Prayers at the Mosque...kinda like church on Easter morning

My puttytatt "Toodles"

I almost got him to smile