9 April 13 around 20:00

Greetings!  I feel like it’s been a little while.  How’s everything stateside? 

I’m doing something a little different.  I’m curious if you’ll be able to tell.  I’m writing this from village for once.  No, I’m not all of a sudden having electricity or a way to charge my laptop nor am I all of a sudden living in a climate suitable for electronics, I’m simply journaling (now thanks to this sweet new birthday journal that arrived today on mail run, thanks Jill!) and then copying to my blog.

I’m hoping to do this more often now that I have a book to record in,  I think, ok know, my village voice is different from my ‘city’ Kombo voice.  Also, maybe it would be interesting to document in real time to mention things like the lovely traditional Gambian music playing on my host fathers radio, the glow of this solar light hanging above my head clipped to an indoor clothesline and the comfort of the sound of my family’s never ending communicating and conversations adding to the rhythm and “music” of the evening and of my typical evenings.  Then the crickets- hardly noticeable anymore.

Anyway, here’s some HCA &R updating (R= random) 1^st R, Nicki Minaj is on the radio right now. No joke. Never heard the song before. ..or at least I think it’s Nicki..

H:  

• Both counterparts are having bees in their catcher boxes.  The excitement on their faces, one even danced! Is why we’re here and is what makes all the other stuff worth while

• USAID came on trek to check on their projects and were happy with the garden in Kaur

• The exchange letters from my mom’s sixth grade class finally came.  Students in 7-9^th grade (similar in age) are writing back.  Again seeing the excitement on their faces over having a friend in America write to them was pretty cool.  Also the fact that fifty some students came to my hut over the course of a week on their holiday break to reply quickly

• My health has improved incredibly.  Thank you everyone for all the delicious food, care packages, and love! Jill, Souse, Jynene, Sarah, Mom, Joe, Pam & Unc! Thank you, Ajaraama, jerejef, Abaraka! Also, Gayende loved the kitty food and now doesn’t like rice…
  
•  PC continued support regarding a crappy matter and just honestly their support in general

•  A very successful in service training for new Ag volunteers up country at the new Ag training center created by volunteer Remy Long.  Re kindled my fire for sure.

C:

• So, it wasn’t a huge deal in I was coming home by horse cart which I’ve done a number of times.  This one was heading to the village after mine in Senegal.  Also, I’m sure not a first time I've been on a Senegal hoursecart.  In total I think there were nine passengers including the driver.  I had just had a great day spending the afternoon with my friend and site mate visiting with my other friend Alpha at his bitik and another bitik owner across the way.  Had bought a good amount of veggies for my family and was excited to give them it after not giving much the last several times I’ve traveled.  Anyway, the guy next to me was being pretty boisterous- nothing too unusual.  He asked if I knew a man.  I thought it a silly simple word to test me on.  Yes I said.  I know man.  You’re a man.  Weirdo, I thought.  Then he put his finger through a circle he made in his other hand to show me what he meant.  I got it but didn’t want to engage.  He was especially handsy threatening to push me off the cart after I refused a marriage proposal or refused to pay him a ridiculous amount of money or refused to give him my veggies.  He was touchy in a way I hated, rude with his words and demeanor.  My heart started to feel funny, like it was hot.  I didn’t really realize how I was feeling or what was happening until I was home.  I called one of my former language teachers to ask her about what just happened and if and how to tell my host family that I was not happy about it.  She was amazing and helped explain how inappropriate it was and helped translate to my host father.  He took the matter very seriously and tracked the name of the man down by threat of arrest.  I didn’t think it was that big a deal.  Was more pissed off someone thinks they can get away treating me like that when I’m almost 98% sure he would never ever treat a Gambian woman like that.  Not in a conservative Muslim country.  The racism or whatever you want to call it still gets to me.  Although you could I guess call it karma.  Not mine per say but the shared karma of my country, and our poor history based on racial profiling/discrimination etc.  Did you know that genetically races isn’t even a thing?  The only thing it is is political.  Do you how much it sucks to receive the blunt of those discriminations?  It sucks! (Had to break for dinner, mbaxal with hot pepper.  I love when we have ground hot pepper!  Also it wasn’t fishy = happy).  Ok so I went off a bit.  All I mean to say is that when it comes down to it, we’re all just human beings.  Like my grandfather used to say, some of us with more chocolate ice cream than vanilla, aka, some darker than not as in evil, not nice etc.  Or however you want to interpret it.  Point still being that race, religion, and sexual orientation don’t determine how likely you are to rob a bank or cause terror.  Your parents or whoever raises you, your society, etc.  Those things that shape us.  This all being fueled from and interesting village read, Zeitoune by Dave Eggers about a Muslim American family surviving Katrina and the broken system’s following the aftermath of the storm.  The story casts America in not the best of light and I think most of us would agree that we did not shine bright after that disaster and a lot of it is understandable.  But profiling and treating one another like anything less than ourselves is something I'm not sure I’ll ever understand and is a disappointment I feel much like a parent might feel about her son or daughter acting out as a bully to someone else.  Not sure why I tend to take it so personally or to heart but there it is.  Please be kind to one another! (13 April 13- so that rant being said, I feel like it's fair to admit that I too have been ignorant and have profiled myself.  And that especially thanks to this experience I'm having of integrating and immersing in another culture, especially a Muslim one, really helps me to see how we all are really just people.  But I can understand that ignorance and simply not being exposed could cause inappropriate hateful behavior.  But just because I understand doesn't mean I agree with it and doesn't mean it's OK.  I think one of the best things you can do if you don't understand or are even afraid of something is to find out more about that thing rather than avoid and fight it. You might still decide you don't like it but at least now you know what you're talking about).

·         That reminds me of another happy.  Sitting on a gelle (overcrowded passenger van) for less than five minutes next to the kindest Fula woman, same day as the horse cart guy- she extended her hand in greeting which isn’t common on gelle’s for me to receive.  We Asalaamed Aliekumed each other and I attempted some Fula greetings but not much at all.  She removed one of her Fula beaded bracelets and extended it to me.  I was already wearing two.  I offered to exchange one for hers though both were from friends and I didn’t really want to give them up.  And she didn’t want to take them.  She just wanted me to have her red and yellow fula bracelet.  I jaramma jeffed her and was completely up lifted by her gesture.  See.  So much better than harassment!

(Another break- host sister just came in for nightly antibiotic ointment.  Shh, don’t tell PC!  We’re not supposed to share the contents of our PC med kit but I’m sorry, she had a has a huge gash on her leg that she was putting lotion on as medicine.  I swear this place will break your heart in just about every way.  She got the gash from the jagged corrugate door to the kitchen hut.  The door used to be one of my pc installed window covers.  She probably did it in the evening in the dark without a flash light.  Anyway so yeah.  I give up a cm or so of ointment each night to help it heal and discourage flies from feasting on it in the night as I encourage her to let it ‘breathe’)

Getting back on track.  Host father like I said tracked the guy down and somehow confronted him about how that inappropriate behavior is not tolerated.  The guy sent two men from his village to repent and ask my forgiveness.  I forgave.  PC comes tomorrow (our safety and security officer) basically to thank my host father for his efforts in ensuring my security.  It almost seems a bit much but my American mom sure didn’t raise me to take even the slightest bit of what would you call it, guile? Whatever it is, Clip? From anyone.  You don’t get to talk to me about sex, put your hands on me, tell me your wife or wives are prettier because I’m white and continue to rough handle me in my community with witnesses and get away with it.  It’s the principle of the matter that gets me the most.  And it is not really something that should go unchecked lest he tell his friends and decide that harassing the toubab is their new favorite game.  It’s kind of a great opportunity to remind and show people that I’m not going to take that, that I’m a professional here to help and need a safe environment to do so and that I have this organization behind me at a moment’s notice.  I’m thankful the situation was minor and that my friend and former language teacher took it upon herself to make sure the situation was minor and that my friend and former language teacher took it upon herself to make sure the situation was handled more than appropriately!  She was the one I called in the days of no gas and helped me then get the help I needed.

Phew- didn’t know I had so much fire in me wanting to come out!  Hope your eyes aren’t hot!

I really am feeling good here.  It’s always a bit of a constant struggle from here out as we become more established feeling more and more like a true and real resident (we are but being treated still sometimes like a stranger or tourist.  It shakes me more that I’d like it to and surfaces the many doubts I often have as to whether I’m even right in feeling like I “know” this place just because I live here, have a family here, work and speak some of the language.  A constant battle of proving yourself and seeking that validation that doesn’t come but you have to go forth anyway as best you can.  Maybe at some point able to accept that you’ll never quite be equal to your fellow villagers but that you are unequal to the tourist.  If even.