Flashforward

Just a quick look at what's to come:

Tomorrow, May 11 (one month in The Gambia) is swear in.  After swear in we become official/real Peace Corps Volunteers and get to finally be called PCV (a long sought after title after being 'the trainees' for two months).

The next couple days following involves shopping for stuff for home and readying ourselves for settling in as much as possible.

Monday May 14 we move in to our permanent sites.  From here until early September we will be setting up home, integrating into the community, and just "settling in" for phase two and our three month challenge.

As I'm in the Central River Region, or CRR, I have a meeting with all CRR volunteers in early June.  I aspire to bike with my site mate (8 km from me or so) the roughly 100 km to our meeting spot (perhaps depending on the heat).

June 22-23 is the All Volunteer conference required for all volunteers throughout The Gambia in all sectors, allowing us to all come together and share projects and ideas and what has gone well or what hasn't gone well.

After the All vol we can really dedicate to what's left of our three month challenge where we challenge ourselves to be in village as much as possible until IST (in-service training).

Sep 5-12 is our IST which will be in The Gambia (yay! There was talk of having us go back to Senegal, not that I or we have anything against Senegal but we all really like The Gambia and traveling back and forth to and from Thies is a pain).

IST will be a bit of a reunion as well as more specified technical training related to our project potential ideas during.  After IST we are ready to or 'allowed' to hit the ground running or walking or whatever with our project ideas. 

We are pretty much training free after this point where there will be opportunities to attend or lead or assist in other trainings for other groups during our two years.  We will probably have a re-connect for our group after a year or so but other than that we don't have official training until our close of service (COS) conference which will occur three months prior to our departure.

At this time volunteers decide if they want to extend or if they are ready to go.  A lot finish their service after their two years.  The last agfo/health group that just COS'd has about four people that extended.  One girl here is leaving in June after serving in TG for four years!

If one decides to extend, PC pays airfare to ones home of record (HOR) for a four week stay.  And if you continue extending you get the paid way home once a year there after.

It is very early in my service but I have definitely considered extending.  At the very least it helps me to feel less pressure so that I can really pace myself with projects and not try to cram everything into a small period of time rendering a bunch of potentially failed projects.  I feel like throwing this out there now so friends and family are aware of the possibility as it can be hard on loved ones who expect you home in two years to hear last minute that you are going to stay in your country of service for one more year (but I'd get to come home to visit!).

Anyway that's all I know about the future.  The gaps are up to my community and myself as to how we'll 'plow' forward (pun intended!).  Until next post!

Rolling in the hay

7 May 12

Just some random thoughts, points, and tidbits:

*There is no electricity in my village (or bread, thank the gods!) and I don’t feel comfortable nor see it necessary to bring my computer to site, therefore blog posts will start to trickle to being posted one time per month, internet service permitting.

*Sleeping on hay is actually really comfortable, at least much more supportive than the spongy mattresses, but too messy to perhaps justify buying.

*I think I’ll probably maybe not be as jumpy about bugs after PC service, but I also might still be.

*I love love love my permanent family.  They are a legit family.  There is so much love, the food is very tasty, and they are wonderful!  I predict leaving to already be a painful goodbye.

*PST is almost over!  Time moves at such an odd pace in PC in general but perhaps especially during PST where it seems to move fast and slow all at once.  But I may say the same when I’m a PCV (May 11).

*I love that I don’t have to fake liking the food that my family cooks at my permanent site; I legitimately like the food that they cook.

*I actually love not having electricity at home.  Passing the time is done together sitting outside and looking at the stars.  I’m so fascinated by the night sky or content in just looking up that my family asked there is a sky in Alaska.  If only I had the words to describe.

*There is a lot of solar power used here.  It’s interesting that somehow people can seem to afford that versus electricity in one of the poorest countries in the world.

*The water table is continuing to lower and if the rains don’t come again this year, we are in trouble.

*Trying to think of something positive to end on: the culture here sure is different from my own, but the power of community is impressive, powerful, and something we can certainly learn from in our very independent Western world.
8 May 12
*My address should now say (hopefully if I passed the language test) PCV instead of PCT and will be my mailing address for the duration of my service here.  Please write me, if you'd like as recieving mail is so much fun!  And please send me your mailing address if you have't already if you would like to be included in my outgoing letters!
*Insala or Inshala is arabic and means, as I understand it, god willing.  I have adopted this saying and use it a lot so you'll probably see it in posts if you haven't already!
*Allhumdullilai is another one meaning, I'm thanking God.

Burning ring of fire

6 May 12

I wake up from the perpetual slow dripping of perspiration soaking my clothes, my sheets, and my pillow.  I don’t have a fever, on the contrary I’m quite well for PCV health in W. Africa (OK, almost PCV), but it’s 5 p.m. and the heat can barely be avoided, especially inside, but I’m not comfortable yet to join the women in being topless outside.

I’d shower (or bucket bath) but if I want the clean feeling to last I need to wait until the sun is on its final descent below the horizon.

Last night, that seemingly infinite ball of gas that centers our solar system and ensures the heat of the dessert, was positioned away enough from the Earth that there was no shadow from this rock to that of the moon, illuminating the night sky so brilliantly, just south of the vast Sahara dessert. 

“They’re like the army, stopping the dessert, the Sahel and Sahara, the trees, tell them that.”

“Sumu garab yi mungi ñöwee, nit yi toga fii.”

“Ok what did you say?”

“When the trees come, the people will sit here.”

Sigh. We laugh and I agree, “that’s better than when the trees come the people will leave!” We laugh some more under the shade of a most invasive species of tree originally from India and having come here somehow, perhaps by trade, that goes by the English name of Neem tree.  Invasive as it is, if it wasn’t here, there would be substantially fewer trees (perhaps) than there are, and perhaps no shade tree in our compound at all.  One reason why it’s so invasive is that it gives off a toxin that kills other trees as well as insects.  The leaves therefore provide a great natural insecticide in compost or fodder, and can be used to create Neem cream for a natural mosquito repellent.

I’ve been extremely fortunate on this site visit having some incredible meeting and conversation opportunities with people in the village. 

They are all very excited, as am I, to work together, insala, to turn this village (unsafe to say actual name on this public blog) into, hopefully, a more sustainable or at least productive one.

You were expecting what?

4 May 12

I try not to have too many expectations, in general, but especially in PC.  Occasionally thought my mind will go into auto-pilot or defense mode to fill in the gaps with something it knows.  So when I heard about a meeting and a borehole and a school, I foolishly pictured meeting up in a classroom about the borehole.  Silly Sam.

From my current position under the kind shade of this, what I think is a Mango tree without any mangos, for the reasons that they’ve either all been harvested or this tree is a master of disguise and trickery, after wicking cotton for the last hour or so amongst a crowd of women where song and dance intermittently break up the sitting, where I’ve even graced them with my “skills” to break the ice of being a newcomer here, I find it foolish and amateur to have expected anything other than the above painted picture for The Gambia.

I was beginning to lose hope in the meeting or accept that the song and dance was the meeting when some very nice trucks pulled in.  There really was a meeting, and it was about the borehole, and it was kind of near the school.

Japan has been working with a number of villages to provide them with solar powered water pumps.  My village has been using theirs for a number of months now but had the official ribbon cutting ceremony today.  It was an all-day event where lunch was served and my ears were beginning to ring by sitting too near to the metal bowls being drummed by the women for dancing (Wolof’s LOVE to dance!). 

The Gambian men that have been working with the Japanese spoke a lot of words in Wolof about how the water should be used and shouldn’t be used.  I hoped to goodness they were going to put on a skit to emphasize their points because one) Gambians love skits, and two) I’m not sure they take in much other than skits.  And they did a skit!  But even so, after re-emphasizing that this potable water is for drinking and washing and cooking only, I didn’t hear any alternatives for where to get the water for other things like the horses and laundry etc.  Without telling us where to get that water (I suppose the open wells) I’m even likely to not listen as the taps are much closer and easier to get to.  But I’ll try to be a good example, as best I can.

Towards the end of this meeting (on day two in the village I might add) I started to be ushered to the front, after struggling and hesitating I’m finally in the middle where I’m expected to explain who I am and why I’m there.  Thank Gawd there was someone there that could translate for me!  Otherwise I would have sounded like a four year old.  It was actually a great opportunity and venue to meet lots of people and introduce myself to make the important connections etc.

They try to emphasize this from the get go, but it really is important, to carry an attitude of an open mind and just really and truly be willing to go with the flow.  The Wolof’s and I really are truly a great fit, thus far.  I’m very excited for my future home and future projects, whatever they decide to be.

Wealth and Potential

25 Apr 12

It’s a beautiful quiet and slow day at the eco loft, just a bike ride away from the training village.  Here the grounds are calm and peaceful.  There’s a lush garden and plenty of shade offered by a cluster of cashew trees.  Otherwise there’s a diversity of trees throughout the lodge and the peaceful sense that nothing could be wrong in the world as the number of varying birds share their different calls and as the gentle breeze keeps the air cool, at least in the shade.

Less than a mile from here there are thousands of people getting ready to enter a very hungry year.  Crop production this year is expected to be down 62% from last year and down 50% over the last five year average.  Just to provide some examples, as well as data for those amongst the readers interested in such, in 2010 (sorry I don’t know how to do tables on blogger!) in the upland, swamp, and irrigated regions, there was 793, 973, and 853 kg of rice grown compared to 2011 of 167, 375, and 164 kg giving a percent difference of -79%, -61%, and -81%, respectively (to feed a population of 1.5 million and growing, fast where the average Gambian eats about 125 kg per year and a rice bag is 50 kg). 

Roughly 20% (1 in 5) of the population under age five are malnourished. 

I see this in my own family where reasons can extend beyond those accounting for the poor food production including drought, desertification, poor soil nutrients, soil salinity, poor agricultural practices, pests including insects, goats, and humans, etc.

I had come home from a full day of trekking through the desert experiencing the varying ecosystems of The Gambia over a 24 km distance.  We trekked through brush forests, gardens, desert, swamp and mangrove forests, and even 500 m or so of wading through The Gambian River (near the salty end where schistomiesis, hippos, and crocodiles aren’t an issue as they are up river). 

PC provides us lunch in our training villages to ensure we’re at least getting one decent meal a day, sympathizing for us for the other meals which include bread and butter in the morning, and cold white rice with left over fish and sauce in the evening (for me, but different for everyone-ish).  We call this our LCF food bowl as we eat with our LCF.

Anyway, our LCF food bowl was saved for us even though we got home well after dark.  We got some bread and peanut butter, an apple and a chewy bar and canned meat, for those interested in that, during the trek which was lovely as well as amazing baked streusel and chocolate banana muffins by our most wonderful PCVLs for breakfast.  But needless to say, after an entire day under the West African sun, over the 12 or so mile distance, it was wonderful to have that food bowl to come back to, even if it was cold.

I arrived to my house well after dark and after dinner time.  I went in to say hello and good night to my family when I suddenly feel as if I walked in on a funeral wake.  My mom asked me if I ate dinner and I replied that I did and ask if they did when she tells me about a goat and knowing that there was a ceremony going on in the village I figured that they had eaten some goat and exclaimed excitedly for them knowing that must be a nice treat.  The expression on my mom’s face informed me that my Wolof isn’t as great as maybe I’d like to think.  When she repeated the story I understood that the goat (or goats) ate their dinner, not that it was the dinner.

It was late, and they probably hadn’t eaten since 2pm, some seven hours ago.  My four year old brother was near to tears pleading for anything to put in his belly.  I didn’t know what to do or even what could be done.  I was completely out of my element.  They don’t train us about back up plans for pesky goats.

I literally had nothing that would have been substantial for a family of four, or nothing that they would have liked anyway.  I felt as if I was under a spot light all of a sudden (I suppose I should accept that I’m probably never not going to be under that light, at least for the next two years) expected to put on my magic toubab cape and save the day, rescuing them from their extremely unfortunate fortune. 

For that’s what a toubab or tourist, I should say, did that very next day.  She came from England, probably, into our village with her camera and took a photo of my family and the neighbors for goodness knows what reason, and then paid my mom roughly $8 or 250 Dalasi which is a LOT of money here.  Two hundred and fifty D is what we get for one week of walk-around money during PST. 

At first, especially after the goat thing, I was so excited for my mom that I celebrated with her for this miracle that just strolled through our compound… it didn’t take long for that initial elation to deflate to the realize the reality of what just happened.  In one fell swoop the woman (It’s probably poor form to call her toubab) undid all that we as PCV’s try to do by giving money like that, reinforcing the stereotype that all “toubabs” have and give money for charity). 

One thing is that charity is a part of the culture here.  It is believed that the more charity you give, the more you will see of that in the afterlife, as I understand (I am not however an expert by any means on Islamic faith). 

All of this led to the rather awkward conversation my mom and I had that night after the charity giving where I gathered that toubab’s always say we don’t have money when we do have it and that Gambia is very hard and thus bad, and that she is scared about providing a future for her children including education and food.

This was one of those valuable teaching moments, or would have been had I the language enough to communicate ideas that are already perhaps difficult or challenging when you both speak the same language fluently.

I tried to explain in my “Wolish” (Wolof and English) that this is why Peace Corps is here, to help with food security and education.  I wish I could have opened up a conversation about what good charity would provide for the long term.  The point of the matter is that yes, for all intensive purposes, I do have money.  I don’t have a ton of Dalasi to my name but I have property and family and the means to make it through my education and experience.

This is how my Gambian mom (from Training Village) helped me better understand the meaning of wealth.  The other point of the matter is that PC really makes it so that I can’t afford to give out much charity; I can barely make ends meet myself on our low PST earnings.  But even if I could, it would help her for a day, maybe two, depending on how wisely she used it.  But it wouldn’t provide her the same way education and training would.  I’m aware here, more-so than I’ve ever been before, the power of the skills to read and write.  I know I mentioned it before.  But with those two basic skills, you literally have access to a plethora of knowledge that can help provide you with information and training to ensure income depending on the choices you make as to the skills and trades you learn, etc. 

And this is where the potential part of the post comes in.  Below, if I can remember the link, I have another one of my favorite TED vids to emphasize these points, illustrating just how powerful the ability to read is from this boy’s adventure in learning how to harness the wind, on his own!  Let me also state that only the brightest and most impressive or talented known individuals are invited to give TED talks, it’s a huge honor.

To backtrack a bit, from our marathon march, we went through one of Gambia’s protected forests which is actually protected.  It was a legitimate forest.  There was dense foliage, ground cover, biodiversity, birds, and lots of shade.  The entire country has the potential to be a cashew and mango forest, or a baobab forest, or just a forest of lots of different types of trees spread out all throughout the country.

The people have the potential (and not just Gambian people) to manage those resources appropriately to both benefit from them while giving back to their environment which in turn continues to give back to them.  Meaning, more trees equals a higher water table, equals more an easier time for more vegetation, equals more transpiration, which can ultimately lead to, over time, more rain, and thus again more trees, and more products from those trees, be it cashews, mangos, honey (as bees rely on the flowering trees for pollen and nectar to produce honey to feed the queen and bees which the trees rely on too for reproduction), fuel wood, etc.

This is one of the most frustrating parts about being an environmentalist, which I hate that I am at times.  It would be so much easier not to care.  But I simply do, and don’t know how not to.  And what is difficult or a conundrum is being the species that is causing the very destruction that pains me.  It’s a constant moral and ethical internal battle.  But the other part to that, is knowing that it is quite possible to be a good steward to this planet, that we have, again, the potential to give back, perhaps even more than we take, given we follow the best and most gentle practices of living here.  But given the way of the world, the pace, the various and diverse and uncompromising cultures, it doesn’t seem like that potential will be met anytime soon.  Except, with the acceleration of population and the continued unpredictability of climate, we may have no other choice but to bend our cultures to adopt these better practices if we want to continue to be here.

Regardless, my village (at my permanent site, yay!) is completely on board with agriculture, so they say.  They are still very connected to and dependent on the land and thus care very much about achieving the appropriate practices and are very happy to have an “expert” in their midst (oh boy).  The enthusiasm is so different from that of the States that I’m a bit taken a back but am thrilled to do my best to help them help themselves plant trees and grow food, and turn it all into a research paper, somehow, inshallah.

Kernals of white rice

19 Apr 12

Some bread and butter, a couple apples (thanks to my LCF and hard to come by here!), and the name of the title are most of the foods that have sustained me the last couple of days, and diluted Gatorade (cheers again bro!).  After a month being here and not getting sick, I thought, ‘why not make it the entire time without getting sick, how wonderful that would be!’ and then I got sick.  But I’m pretty stubborn and hate throwing up, so I think I make myself suffer more by keeping it all inside accounting for tummy aching that lasts just 24 hrs or so, where the pain is much more manageable when I’m horizontal versus vertical.  Other than that I’ve had it pretty darned good. 

My family has been over the top supportive of ensuring a speedy recovery.  I found it rather ironic that while filling out one of my TDA’s on clean water and sanitation practices and technologies used here, my namesake offers me some juice as medicine that they just made from unfiltered and un-cleaned water likely from the pump and thus safer than from the open well, but still, comical timing.  I drank most of it.

Regardless, I’m on the mend and hope to stop daydreaming about food that doesn’t exist here, soon.  The night that I missed dinner, I heard extra voices outside and was almost certain in my given state that the one night I sat out on dinner was the night they were eating chicken fried steak with gravy, steamed local veggies of carrots and broccoli and peas, and a fresh cut salad with tomatoes.  With plenty of salt and pepper and mashed potatoes and butter of course, and freshly baked dinner rolls, all around romantic candlelit lighting.  I was almost certain of it and found myself pouting in my bed that I was missing it.  Fasting and food sickness does funny things.  As do the anti-malarial meds which I think can be thrown in as an excuse to any oddity these days.  True story: one of our fellow trainees thought the mouse CHEWING HER HAIR was a mephalaquin dream and so tried to ignore it until she realized it wasn’t a dream.  She told one of our volunteers that has been here over a year and her response was, “And you didn’t ET? I think mouse in the hair might be where I draw the line!”  ET by the way stands for early termination I think, referring to leaving your post or assignment by your own choice, before the two year agreement.  Other ways for early termination to occur include medical separation and administrative separation, where it wasn’t your choice to leave but some medical reason, or Peace Corps administration deciding for you to go home for say, you not taking your prophylaxis, or other reasons.

Also, I think it’s important to note, keeping this post on the random and jumpy side of things, that I’m a vegetarian and don’t even really like meat.  But what I’d give for some country fried steak!  Or even fish and chips from good ‘ol Great Britain, and I definitely don’t fancy fish (damn you Neil Gaiman!).  I also can’t wait to stop imagining that every other building in my village is a cheap hole in the wall Mexican food place wanting to serve me cheese enchiladas and potato tacos, because they aren’t!  And I’d be surprised if I could even find Mexican food in this country let alone, region of the world (Mexican food that would meet an Arizonan’s standards that is, where believe it or not, the place I dream most about is a hole in the wall in Fairbanks Alaska that serves delicious cheese enchiladas and potato tacos all for under $5 US if memory serves me right!  That’s impeccable for Fairbanks or AK in general). 

One thing that always works incredibly well though, is to go outside and look up at the backwards sky.  A friend sent me a link to a PCV’s blog from Ethiopia who wrote about the realities of PC in Africa, beyond the holding of hands of kids, which is there too.  But they wrote about going outside and letting Africa save you when you needed it to, and thus far I haven’t been disappointed yet. 

Now if the critters could just stop making so much noise in the sacks above my head, I’d just be peachy, but don’t want come off as too needy! 

BOOKS!

17 Apr 12

I love them.  I can’t remember the last time I read for fun!  Although I do love A Sand County Almanac, and the research I do, otherwise I wouldn’t do it, but there’s a distinct difference when the purpose is for “work” etc. 

My brother, god bless ‘em, sent me everything I requested from my care package list suggestions.  I am still rather speechless about it barely able to remotely come near to expressing my vast gratitude.  He knows I didn’t intend for any one person to send ALL of that stuff, but he’s an incredibly lovey and wonderful brother that I think can relate to being thrown into rather uncomfortable situations having gone through basic training for the Air Force etc.  The support truly means more than anyone can know, unless I suppose, you’ve been there.

Anyway, getting to the point, he sent me Farenheight 451 as I requested classic books that I somehow missed out on during my childhood and education.  What a perfectly appropriate book to break the fast of reading for fun!  He mentioned that he had recently read it and that it leaves you wanting more, which it does.  Ray Bradbury is genius and I hope to discover more of his works floating around our PC collection of books from volunteers. 

I was able to find some other good reads there as The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, one of my favorite authors and The End of the Earth by Peter Matheissan chronicling his voyages to and around Antarctica.  I still wish I had some picture books so that I could share my joy of reading with the kids here.  I tried to read a bit of Bradbury’s book out loud to them but that only held their attention for so long.  They know some English, but not that much.

But even if the books were printed in perfect Wolof, I’m not sure they’d be able to read them anyway.  Another ability and skill I’ve taken for granted my whole reading life even though it was a skill I’ve struggled with from the beginning (thanks to Dad for making me read a book a week and to Mom and Dad for reading out loud to us as tots, no one can quite bring the BFG as to life as my mom, or anyone else’s parent as just being read to by your mom or dad is one of those treasured childhood joys I don’t think I’ll ever forget).

I’m very mildly dyslexic, something that tons of practice and awareness has done to alleviate but I still find the occasional bule in my notebooks instead of blue, wondering what on earth a bule is until I realize what I’ve done. 

That “simple” skill though, to connect letters to form words to form sentences, to put it altogether in a comprehensible manner, opens up entire worlds.  I feel like if I could only teach one kid (or point them in the direction of being educated on) how to read while I’m here, especially if she is female, I may as well be educating an entire village.  It’s powerful stuff but any teacher knows it’s a challenge, especially when you add limited time, learning disabilities, and perhaps a lack of motivation, for, where are these kids going to easily get their hands on good books anyway?  What are the chances that they can even go to school past the basic levels when more important tasks linger as growing food, cooking food, and raising children around the obstacles of desertification, deforestation, drought, food borne illness, HIV/AIDS, malaria, pests including goats and children ruining the crops, etc and so forth? 

It leaves me inspired and deflated all at the same time and never-the-less grateful to be able to read and write as I can.  I’m no Bradbury by any means, but hopefully I can at least make sense once in a while with only a few miss-spelled worlds in the wake of my jabbering’s.

In the meantime, I hope I can continue to land good reads for myself, including stories with pictures that I can share with my newly acquired Gambian relatives.  I think they think it looks really weird to watch this “toubab” stare at books on end for “fun” but maybe they’ll be curious to see what magic can be found within those written words.

I’m inspired to keep a book list of books I read during service as my friend has done in her PC blog.  I think I’ll just go ahead and post that under this post and add to the list as it hopefully continues to expand.

Happy reading and imagining of far off places and lands with fictitious charming and wondrous characters.  And savor the fact that you can, if you can, as so many in our world, can’t, yet.

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Farenheight 451 by Ray Bradbury, «««««

The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman, ««««

The End of the Earth by Peter Mattheisan