The System- 57 Lindsay- 1

A lot of the new job feels like me against the system. And believe me, the system always wins, but not today!

After jumping through some paperwork hoops and missing the car full of people I was supposed to go on a school garden observation trek with, it looks like I'm still going to get to go on trek.  A day late but certainly not a dollar short.  (They're giving me a daily field allowance.)  Turns out another guy in the office is going across the country for work tomorrow, so we're going to share a car and I'll meet the car I was supposed to be traveling with whenever our paths cross. On the way, I'll get to see what the guy I sit across from at the office every day actually does when he's not behind a computer and then I'll get to spend a couple of days checking out school gardens and making plans for the rest of the year.

NEW everything

Around the new year I moved out of my village to start my new job in the city.  This involved the arduous task of finding a house, which proved much more difficult than I could have imagined, but ended in what seems like success.  I don't want to jinx this place.  The second I say this place is perfect, the cats and rats or whatever creatures go nuts in the ceiling on occasion will come down and take over, or who knows what else might happen, but the place is pretty good.  I've got running water, electricity, a shower, a toilet, my own space indoor and outdoors, a fridge (that really is more like a freezer but whatever), a couch, shelves, 2 bedrooms, a kitchen... there's a lot to be excited about.  And the location is good.  A ten minute bike ride from work, a short walk to public transport routes, the same 10 minute ride that gets me to work can also get me to the beach and the new place is in a really lively part of town.
The new job-
I'm still a Peace Corps volunteer, but my posting has changed.  I'm now posted at the World Food Programme country office as a Programme Assistant working on school gardens (and whatever else they tell me I'm doing.)  I've been kind of doing this job on the side for most of my PC service- just doing coordination between PC and WFP, helping at trainings, etc.  Now I just do it all of the time and have some responsibility.  I've been on the job almost 6 weeks now.  So far, its been a good experience.  I've learned a lot.  This is the first time I've had a job anything like this.  I'm getting a lot of opportunities to work on my business writing skills, learning a lot about working within hierarchys and government agencies, trying to figure out how one gets used to a job where you are at the computer all day, and much more.  Right now, I'm working on planning trainings (which may or may not ever happen, which is a little unnerving), working on getting some educational resources on gardens made, planning on going on a monitoring trek, writing a partnership proposal for us and a different organization, etc.

Ni rano rano Kanjibato. - I miss Kanjibat.

My last picture in Kanjibat.  Hopefully I'll be able to visit soon.  I was going to go this weekend, but then a trek got scheduled for next week.  As much as I'd love to go say hi, the last thing I want is to go hang out for the weekend, then come back, pack and leave the next morning for a week on the road.  I talked to my "husband" (the boy I'm holding in the picture) a little while ago on the phone and since I left, he's gotten a lot better at talking.  I can't wait to see how much Muhammed (the baby in my compound) has grown in the last couple of months.  I can't wait until I can go.  I even miss the food a little tiny bit. Who would have thought?

That said, life in the city is going pretty great.  An update is coming very soon.

The Big Reveal

I moved out of my village a couple of weeks ago to start work in the city. I served for two years in a small rural village yet unveiled on this blog. Since I no longer live there, I'm allowed to tell you all about the place now.  Drumroll please.  The place formerly referred to as Salliya is............. Kanjibat. Spelled like that but somehow pronounced Con-G-bot-toe.
Its a small village just off the south bank road in the Western Region of The Gambia. Home to a whopping 60 people and formerly me. Check it out on google maps. You'll be able to see http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Kanjibat,+The+Gambia&hl=en&ll=13.261333,-15.446777&spn=2.614285,3.532104&sll=37.0625,-95.677068&sspn=34.038806,56.513672&vpsrc=6&hnear=Kanjibat,+Foni+Bondali,+West+Coast+Region,+The+Gambia&t=m&z=8
Make sure you look at it on satellite view.  Probably more cool to me than anyone else, but you can see the house where I used to live behind where the A marker is to the left. The closest house to the marker was mine.  If you drag the screen to the right you can see the school I used to work with.  Further down the road  near my house you can see the garden.  Even further down that same road you get to the river. 
The cluster of 3 houses that are formig a rectangle with my house is Sanneh Kunda.  That was my compound.  Maybe that gives people a little better idea of what a compound is.  I know I've used that word with some of you and its not a concept we have in the US.  All the people who live in those 3 houses are related by blood or marriage.  They all eat together and share a lot of things- work, clothes, stuff, responsability for raising the kids, etc.  Its an extended famiy all technically living in different houses but in the same compound, and really I feel like people treat the whole compound like immediate family.
I miss it a little but I knew from the get-go that this was just going to be for two years.  And I'm really lucky and can be more objective about it than someone who is leaving the country because I can still see and talk to the people I miss.  Hopefully I'll get to go for a visit in the next month or so.  I'll blog an update on what I'm doing now- life in the city- soon.

Melam, jeeo, H2O- WATER

New place in the city officially procured. I get to move in in a few days. There are so many things to be excited about: electricity, privacy, meeting new neighbors, a market near my house, and indoor plumbing to name a few. And how excited I am about these things makes me think maybe I should blog a bit about basic needs here and how for so many Gambians, satisfying those needs is different than for most people who will read this.

One of the most basic needs is water, so I'll blog about that one first.

Probably most of you have heard something from a charity in the US about water in Africa- how hard it is to get, how clean water is hard to come by,etc.
Here in The Gambia, we're pretty lucky with water. The country is based around a body of water- The River Gambia, so our water table is higher than a lot of places.  This makes wells easier and cheaper to dig. In Foni, where I was posted before, our water table was about 5-10 meters (way more shallow than the national average).  That means that in my area when you needed water, you either threw a bucket on a 15-30 foot rope down into a hole to pull up water or you went to the pump and pumped the water up. In some places, there are mechanized pumps run by solar or generator that put water in tanks that can then be gotten out of taps- like the hose pipe on the side of your house. Only with a tap or a pump, and often with a well for that matter, the water is shared between a lot of people. This gets a lot worse in the urban areas or in big villages where people have to stand in line for their turn for water or even plan their days around the time when the tap is open for use.
Clean water is aonther issue. There are 2 kinds of wells- open and covered. Their names say it all. Covered wells are covered with a concrete lid and a pump brings the water to the surface. This water is usually pretty clean and safe to drink. Open wells are open to the elements. They are just a deep hole in the ground. Anything can fall in there. Anything can grow in there. Its very easy for this kind of well to become contaminated. Covered wells are far superior, but also far more expensive and more liable to break. When the rope on your bucket breaks, pretty much any idiot can fix that. Tie a knot or get a new rope. When something inside a pump for a covered well breaks, only a trained professional can fix it. That takes money and the guy also has to show up to fix it. My village was without a covered well for about 3 months during my stay once because of a pump failure, and they did a commendable job of getting it back up and running quickly and efficiently. Some pumps sit months or years waiting to be fixed.  And during this time, everyone around is drinking questionable water.  In many villages, there are only open wells and only ever have been.

Think of all the things in your life that use water. Cooking, washing dishes, washing hands, showering, drinking, watering plants, pets drinking water, washing clothes, etc... Imagine if you had to go get that instead of it just coming into your house. Its not convenient.  Thus why indoor plumbing is on my list of things to be excited about for city life.

She's back!

I know this is a little late, as pretty much everybody knows I made it back safe and sound, but I just wanted to talk a little about going home and being back.
I had a great time in America.  I got to see a lot of people I had missed and do a lot of things I had missed doing.  It was awesome how quickly it felt normal hanging out with friends and family I hadn't seen in almost 2 years.
Overall, the U.S. wasn't as shocking as I thought it would be. Some things did take me by surprise: The grocery store was miraculous, albeit a little overwhelming.  Driving a car again was fun, and the way American traffic is so organized and choreographed was beautiful/astounding/miraculous (that word describes a lot of American things.) Eating American food was amazing. I worked through my whole list, and it was all delicious.  I would like to thank everyone who had a part in me gaining 7 pounds in a month.  I appreciated it all so much! Along the same vein, throwing "spoiled" food away freaked me out more than I thought it would. Never thought I'd be so upset about having to throw away some old leftovers, but don't worry the food was rescued and my stomach of steel handled it just fine. In the end, I'm really glad I got the unexpected 2 week extension on my trip.  It allowed me to do a lot more casual hanging out with friends and family that I wouldn't have had time for otherwise.
The trip back was great. On my 2 longest flights, I had an open seat beside me. I got horribly misdirected in some Canadian airport, but that just led to me seeing the beautiful terminal where the international flights to nice places leave from, then getting to ride on an express moving sidewalk two different times, (It travels faster than a person walking on a regular moving sidewalk- like running only you're standing still hoping you'll figure out how to get off when the sidewalk ends.) and getting to pass through customs with the wave of a card like some celebrity.  Overall very good travel experience, and then at the end of my travel, friends had come to get me at the airport.
Once back, I got to hang out with a lot of people from the group I arrived in the country with 2 years ago, and then headed back to see my family here. Baby Muhammed Ken started walking just a couple of days after I returned to the compound, and I was so excited I didn't miss that. I don't know how its possible, but somehow he's even cuter now that he can walk.  We had a big celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Peace Corps a couple of weeks ago, put on by the president (of The Gambia). It was very cool. We all got to shake hands with His Excellency, and heard many speeches of Gambians appreciating the Peace Corps and what we have done in the country, and plus there was a ton of delicious food.
Part of the reasoning of going home was to see if I was ready to stay in The Gambian another year.  Although it was awesome to be in America, I think the opportunities I have here for the coming year are too exciting to pass on. The work for the next year, provided that it works out, sounds like it will be challenging and a great experience. Looking at the job description, I can't believe someone thinks I am qualified to be doing this, but I have the opportunity to give it a try and I can't wait.  And its not just the work I'm staying for.  I really do enjoy living here.  I have people here I enjoy hanging out with, and there's something about being here. Everyday, there's probably going to be something that will drive you absolutely crazy, and definitely ten other things that are just hilarious and a few things that make you really happy, and probably something that will make you think about how lucky you are that this is your life. Its a roller coaster, but I like to be on it, and in my experience, its way more up than down.  So, barring any unforseen circumstances, I'm proceeding with my one year service extension.  That means I get to look for an apartment next week!

JOSANEY- culture/customs

A couple of the villages near Salliya just finished their futampaf, the celebration of the boys circumcisions. The celebration was held in the village nearest mine.

PRE-FUTAMPAF:

 Women in the host village and most of the surrounding villages spent the weeks leading up to the futampaf pounding millet and grasses to make a drink (bunkap) that is always served at these occasions. It was likened to fermented tea by a few volunteers that came to visit. You could probably have filled a swimming pool with the amount of bunkap that they made.
There were so many guests from out of the area coming that every compound built extra housing for visitors. They were just palm frond huts but they at least doubled the living space in the village.

DAY 1

On the first day, the boys got ready to go to the bush. In the afternoon, the boys gathered to kill chickens. Each boy and his mother came to the gathering place with 2 chickens. The mothers gave the son two skirts, one to wear as a skirt, one to serve as a shirt. Each pair sat down on the ground and the mother killed the chickens. This is a big deal because here, women don't really do any animal killing. They let the chickens run around like, well, a chicken with its head cut off, and then once it dies, they check something inside of the chicken (maybe the kidneys?). If the chicken acts normally when it dies and if its kidneys look normal, the boy will be fine in the bush. If something is wrong with the chicken, the boy is going to be sick or die in the bush unless something is done about it. All of the chickens were fine so i didn't really get to see what happens if one is not, but when I asked, I got 2 different accounts. One said that if something is wrong, it is the father's fault and the father and the mother have to fight. The other said that the mother had to do a dance to ward off the bad spirits. 
After killing the chickens, the boys were all taken to a communal tent to stay together for the night. For dinner, the boys get to eat the chickens. Two chickens per boy! These guys for sure never have and never will again get to eat that much chicken at one time.

DAY 2

In the morning, the boys were all kept inside their communal tent. They had to stay in there unless someone specifically invited an individual out for a conversation. Supposedly it was pretty cramped and hot in there.  Outside the tent, there was a butesop. (I finally figured out the meaning of that for those of you that remember it a few posts back.) Butesop- n. an event characterized by people wearing protective jujus who try to cut, stab, shoot, or maim in some other way their bodies but cannot because the power of the juju protects them. In the afternoon, EVERYONE walked out into the bush. The crowd was huge. We walked out and danced and watched butesop in a big clearing in the bush. They set off explosives to ward off evil and witches, and they had a kankurang to chase away women and children once it became time for all but the men and initiates to leave the bush. At night they had dances at almost every compound in the village.  It was a lot of fun because every party was a little different and we could go to one until we were bored or we drew too much of a crowd or just decided to switch types of music.

DAY 3

The music didn't stop at all between the afternoon of day 2 and the morning of day 4. Virtually every compound had rented a sound system and played it non-stop for at least 36 hours. I'd say in the entirity of the futampaf week, there was probably just about 12 hours that there was not music blaring from that village. I don't understand how anyone got any sleep.  At some of the parties, people would be sleeping on mats 10 feet away from a 4 foot tall speaker blaring music!

DAY 4

Yet another day of eating and dancing. I had visitors most of the week. My number of visitors ranged from one day when I had 0 to one day when I had 6. This particular day, I had 2 visitors. Visitors mean an invitation to eat lunch at a compound in the futampaf host village!  The food for the futampaf was amazing. They killed a lot of cows, made sauces that they hardly ever cook; there was even salad!!! That never, never happens. Granted, the meals are at odd times- for instance, we ate the salad at about 2 in the morning, and lunch most days was around 5pm, but it was always worth the wait.

DAY 5

Nothing too much happened today.  No visitors, so I ate normal food for lunch and then went to the futampaffing village to help the women cook dinner. After we cooked, it was getting pretty dark and a group of us from Salliya decided to walk home. In the distance though we could hear drums coming. The women told me it was tradition for all the boys to come out of the bush after dark on this night and beat the young girls. I got to see the flood of boys marching into the village in the distance, but we went home before the boys came anywhere close. Being unmarried but past prime marrying age here makes me a confusing girl/woman and I wan't too interested in sticking around to see if they'd beat me. I don't think they actually beat anyone because everyone seemed fine the next day. Maybe it was just a ceremonial tap on the head for each girl or something.

DAY 6

Day before the last, the boys got to take a bath. Traditionally they don't bathe at all for the time they are in the bush. This morning, all of the boys, escorted by a kankurang, walked to the river wearing white shawls covering their faces so no one could tell who they were. There, they all finally washed off, then trekked back to the bush. Later in the afternoon, the boys trek out of the bush again, but this time un-protected by a kankurang. In the futampaf host village there was a big field with a pole planted in it (kind of like a totem pole).  Everyone in the area came out to stand on one side of the pole and the initiates came and stood on the far side of the field still wearing the white shawls from the morning. They did some kind of call and response clapping game with the men on our side of the field and on a certain clap, all the boys took off running toward the pole. Once they reached the pole, the boys dove face down on the ground, each holding a small green branch over their heads. The boys' parents could pay the men in charge to show them which one was their son, and then the son could wave his branch over his head to say "Hey, mom. I'm okay."  After a few minutes of that, the kankurang came out of the bush on the far side of the clearing, so all the women and children had to run back to the village.

DAY 7

The boys came out of the bush to very little fanfare. I assumed after all the big parties we'd had while they were in the bush, there would be a blowout when the boys finally came home, but no. I thought, 'certainly, I'll know when the boys are coming, There'll be a big stir. People will tell me.'  I didn't know anything until the boy from my compound who had gone into the bush came in wearing new clothes and shaking hands in a weird new way.