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.



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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

Maanoo!

So its near the end of the rainy season which means A) Its wet 2) suusuulaa siiyaata le (mosquito is plenty) 3) it's time to harvest rice. I've been going out to the 'faro' (rice field) every once in a while to help weed...not easy. And now all that hard work is paying off - with more hard work. I never really thought about the fact that rice is a plant like every other starchy food we eat, and for some reason, I was slightly surprised that it looks a heck of a lot like wheat once its grown. Actually, harvesting rice is not physically difficult - just take a small knife and clip the stalk a few inches below the rice grains. The difficulty lies in distinguishing ripe rice from not-ripe rice. Apparently, ripe rice is lighter in color... but since my ability to distinguish colors is 'poor', ahemm....well let's just say if my family's food sucks for the next few weeks, my bad.

As my mother, brother, and I were out in the field, a storm was abrewin'. My mother kept trying to convince me to go home because I would get wet. "The wind is here...the rain will follow... go home." Now, in hindsight, I think it was her way of making me stop prematurely harvesting her beautiful rice, after seeing the quality of my work. I pretended to ignore her until the rain finally came, then we loaded up the rice on my bike. I got completely soaked on the way back home, carefully transporting our rice down the muddy, winding, windy bush roads. As soon as I got home, I stood outside with the Sisqo, King of Dragon, topless, enjoying myself. The women go topless - so why can't I?

--Junkung Bless Kumpawarrior

Ceesay Kunda

One of the biggest differences in Gambian culture is the living arrangements. Where Americans tend to live as a 'nuclear' family in a single house, Gambians tend to live as an extended family in compound consisting of multiple houses. Here's a birds-eye view of Ceesay Kunda.

Ceesay Kunda is fortified with a concrete block fence. Baba looked into also installing a moat around the compound. While crocodiles are are dirt cheap, the drawbridge proved to be the dealbreaker. Inside the compound there are two main houses, and 4 smaller thatched roof huts. Note their geometry. We also have 2 big mango trees and couple of gardens. My favorite feature is the well. You have no idea how convenient it is to 'only' be required to walk 100 feet rather than 1000 feet just to fetch bath water.

--Junkung Jammeh

Durango diyaata baake!

What is the most awesome Gambian dish? Is it Benechin? Nyankatang? Supa? Plassas? That, my friends, is a rhetorical question. The most awesome Gambian dish is Durango (as the Mandinkas call it) or Domoda (Wollofs). Durango is a stew made with peanuts, served over rice. Expressed in its most abstract form, it is equivalent to 

Comfort food*infinity*2.

Mmmm.....

But don't take my word for it. Make it yourself.

Durango

Serves 15 hungry Gambians. Keep in mind that all measurements are my best estimation....as the women don't actually measure anything. Also, the cooking is done over an open fire.

Ingredients:

1/2 pound meat in chunks (chicken, goat, beef)
1/2 pound stomach in chunks (if using beef)

1 tablespoon red pepper flakes
1 tablespoon black pepper
2 beef jumbo cubes
1 chicken jumbo cube
2 small bags of some other jumbo seasoning (about the same as 2 cubes each)
1 small bag tomato paste (same as small can)
Salt (to taste)

1 cup vegetable oil

2-3 habanero hot peppers
2 small onions, chopped
4 small tomatoes, chopped

3 big serving spoons of old-fashioned (homemade) peanut butter

2 medium potatoes, cut into big chunks (optional)
3 bitter tomatoes, whole (definitely optional, not a fan)

4 cups water

Alot of white rice

Directions:

1) Heat oil in big pot.

2) While oil is heating, pound red pepper flakes and black pepper using mortar and pestle.

3) Add meat and tomato paste to hot oil.

4) Add beef and chicken jumbo, onions, and tomatoes to pepper mixture and pound till onions are coated thoroughly.

5) Add pounded mixture to pot.

6) Let simmer for a few minutes till meat is browned.

7) Add about 4 cups of water and peanut butter. Stir and let boil uncovered about 30 minutes.

8) Add bags of jumbo seasoning and hot peppers. Simmer for another 30 minutes. Add salt to taste.

9) When finished peanut oil should rise to the top. Sauce should be about the consistency of a thick chili or spaghetti sauce.

10) Serve over cooked white rice.

11) Take a huge nap.

Nyosal! (Enjoy!)

Trojan Mice

On my way walking to the junior school, I nearly stepped on a used condom. Gross! But...responsible. Good for that guy, practicing safe sex. About 10 steps later, another one is lying on the ground. Gross! But...normal. A lot of guys here have multiple partners (wives and/or girlfriends). Okay, cool, he's not leaving anyone out. A few more steps. Gross! Jeez, do they sell Viagra here? A few more steps. ...Gross!? This guy is...8 years old. I had an 8 year old offer me condoms. Hahaha.

Change of subject.

Mice. They are a problem. They disturb my sleep. They eat my food. They poop everywhere. When they die, the legacy that they leave behind is that God awful smell.

It all started a few months ago. They like to come in through the holes between my roof and the walls. They crawl around making all kinds of racket - sometimes they fight each other. They even become so bold as to crawl on me in my sleep. That definitely crosses the line. But, on the other side of the line lay two shiny new mousetraps I received in a care package. 6 dead mice in 4 days. Problem solved.

Or was it?

Months later, I received a shipment of gold in the mail.... the salty, savory, salivating substance known as Cheezits. I went through an entire box in a day, with more to spare. I secure the rest of the gold in the trunk. At least I thought it was secure. At 3 AM, I hear the distinct chirping noise. I ignore it. It continues...

Finally, I awaken from my slumber, annoyed that this little rat has no manners. I flick on the flashlight and I see him darting towards a little crack in the lid of my truck. Crap, I didn't shut the trunk all the way. He scurries off. But wait, he dropped something. Holy crap. It's a tiny, naked, squirming...alien? No. Its, its, its... a baby. Dammit. That mouse has a got a lot of nerve. Trying to make a nest in my trunk. Trying to steal me Lucky Charms. I stood there for a couple minutes, completely dumbfounded. I looked down and the baby was gone. Sneaky. I hear a faint squeaking noise emanating from the trunk. I completely empty it in a mad rage and I find... two more baby rats!

My initial thought was to torch the whole place. That should get rid of them. On second thought, bad idea. It's dry season; I might end up torching the whole village. After a couple minutes deliberating, I scoop them up with one of those little plastic Gatorade scoops and toss them over the fence. I knew that would come in handy one day. Afterwards, I lock the trunk and put about 20 pounds of books on top, just in case this mouse is ridiculously strong, or happened to slip on my host brother's swiss dragon boots.

Back to sleep. Mama mouse didn't come back. Ha!