Monday, February 28, 2011
I'm Still Alive!
Greeting from The Smiling Coast Of Africa!
Today I sit and update from the Peace Corps Office in Fajarra, due to my brief stay at the medical center for a spell of "reedu doga" or "running stomach". Either way, I am definetly on the mend and should be released by tomorrow. One benefit of this is that I finally have the ability to climb on the internet for more than 15 minutes and write a post.
During my almost two months in The Gambia, I find that my opinions and feelings about this place change greatly and rapidly from bewildered to frustrated and anywhere in between. I think that this is a result of being new here and jumping in as an alien to a new culture and language. Almost every interaction is so different from American culture it is taking me time just to figure out what people regard as normal and common behavior. This is particularly true in the marketplace where people agressively want you to buy things and haggling is encouraged, in the way that the two genders largely don't have contact with each other in public settings, and in the incredulous stares and flat refusal by many Gambians to sample a peanut butter/banana/chocolate sandwich that I make for a snack. All in all though, I am very excited to be here, and have largely enjoyed my time thus far. Public transportation and roadways are exhilirating and frenetic experiences, and although you need to shove to get a seat on the "gele gele" (the 10-16 person van) people are all very friendly and chatty once the ride has started. I need to shove extra hard to find a seat that my legs fit in.
Here are my vital statistics:
I am called Bubakarr Bah. In my training village, Yuna, I live in a family with 7 brothers and 2 sisters, one of whom i see regularly. My family treats and feeds me very well and are awesome, welcoming people. While my parents don't speak English, the older brothers do and the younger brothers are learning. Bucket baths are delicious, especially when you leave a bidong full of water to heat up in the sun all day. Pit latrines will never break unless they do so much that you fall in (I keep my fingers crossed, mine seems sturdy). I have a gecko that lives in my ceiling and sings to me at night.
I have been living in the Fula village of Yuna. This is my father, Kali Bah, my mother Raama tu Laahi Camara, and one of my brothers, Sarjo (the child born after twins is always named Sarjo, whether male or female).
This was my two room house in my family's compound. The big tree behind my house is a mango. Between the two buildings leads to the backyard where the sheep are kept at night (all livestock roams free here during the dry season).
In Yuna I went to school with two other Toubabs (white people) named Stephanie a.k.a. Fatumata Bah and Emily a.k.a. Yiali Bah. I have had two different teachers of Pulaar, the language of the Fula people, while at Yuna, Babacarr Sallah and Ida Keita. They are great teachers for Language and Culture and I feel that I am learning very fast.
Village life is not quiet. Few cars have efficient mufflers, sheep are ornery, people shout greetings at each other from across the town, the mosque loudspeakers announce prayer time 5x a day, the donkeys call to each other at any hour and remind me of the Tuskan Raiders from Star Wars, somebody, somewhere is always drumming, and for the first month a group of boys marched around town at sunup and sundown, drumming and singing to fill their circumcision ceremony tradition.
My pre-service-training is ending and I have already moved out of my training village and said goodbye to my family. I want to post more pictures of them, but blogspot is not cooperating with the computer right now...
Tomorrow I will go to Wallalan, my permanent site for the next two years, for a 3 day visit. I will meet my new family, the imaam, the alkaalo (town mayor) and other village notaries, and get a handle on that village. I then travel back to headquarters for my swearing in ceremony.
There are many things to be written about, but I feel I am in a phase where I am still trying to figure out where things are and why things are the way they are here. I have more pictures, at least, let me try another computer.
Today I sit and update from the Peace Corps Office in Fajarra, due to my brief stay at the medical center for a spell of "reedu doga" or "running stomach". Either way, I am definetly on the mend and should be released by tomorrow. One benefit of this is that I finally have the ability to climb on the internet for more than 15 minutes and write a post.
During my almost two months in The Gambia, I find that my opinions and feelings about this place change greatly and rapidly from bewildered to frustrated and anywhere in between. I think that this is a result of being new here and jumping in as an alien to a new culture and language. Almost every interaction is so different from American culture it is taking me time just to figure out what people regard as normal and common behavior. This is particularly true in the marketplace where people agressively want you to buy things and haggling is encouraged, in the way that the two genders largely don't have contact with each other in public settings, and in the incredulous stares and flat refusal by many Gambians to sample a peanut butter/banana/chocolate sandwich that I make for a snack. All in all though, I am very excited to be here, and have largely enjoyed my time thus far. Public transportation and roadways are exhilirating and frenetic experiences, and although you need to shove to get a seat on the "gele gele" (the 10-16 person van) people are all very friendly and chatty once the ride has started. I need to shove extra hard to find a seat that my legs fit in.
Here are my vital statistics:
I am called Bubakarr Bah. In my training village, Yuna, I live in a family with 7 brothers and 2 sisters, one of whom i see regularly. My family treats and feeds me very well and are awesome, welcoming people. While my parents don't speak English, the older brothers do and the younger brothers are learning. Bucket baths are delicious, especially when you leave a bidong full of water to heat up in the sun all day. Pit latrines will never break unless they do so much that you fall in (I keep my fingers crossed, mine seems sturdy). I have a gecko that lives in my ceiling and sings to me at night.
This was my two room house in my family's compound. The big tree behind my house is a mango. Between the two buildings leads to the backyard where the sheep are kept at night (all livestock roams free here during the dry season).
In Yuna I went to school with two other Toubabs (white people) named Stephanie a.k.a. Fatumata Bah and Emily a.k.a. Yiali Bah. I have had two different teachers of Pulaar, the language of the Fula people, while at Yuna, Babacarr Sallah and Ida Keita. They are great teachers for Language and Culture and I feel that I am learning very fast.
Village life is not quiet. Few cars have efficient mufflers, sheep are ornery, people shout greetings at each other from across the town, the mosque loudspeakers announce prayer time 5x a day, the donkeys call to each other at any hour and remind me of the Tuskan Raiders from Star Wars, somebody, somewhere is always drumming, and for the first month a group of boys marched around town at sunup and sundown, drumming and singing to fill their circumcision ceremony tradition.
My pre-service-training is ending and I have already moved out of my training village and said goodbye to my family. I want to post more pictures of them, but blogspot is not cooperating with the computer right now...
Tomorrow I will go to Wallalan, my permanent site for the next two years, for a 3 day visit. I will meet my new family, the imaam, the alkaalo (town mayor) and other village notaries, and get a handle on that village. I then travel back to headquarters for my swearing in ceremony.
There are many things to be written about, but I feel I am in a phase where I am still trying to figure out where things are and why things are the way they are here. I have more pictures, at least, let me try another computer.
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