peanut work

 People working behind a peanut stack

My brothers putting peanut stalks on the donkey house

The Peanut Harvest

Is an entire family affair. Up to this point the peanut work has been mostly the women's responsibility, while the millet fields were worked by the men. Each woman in the compound has her own field. After a few weeks of rain, they will go out and begin weeding. Its a lot of work so generally two or three women will team up to work on one field. When it's clear the men lend a hand by driving the plows through before each woman plants. Women then weed their own fields ( or in teams) until the peanuts are big enough to out compete the weeds. The men are doing the same in the millet fields. When everything has outgrown weeds, there is a break in work until it stops raining. Then when it stops,  each woman is responsible for getting her own peanuts out of the ground. Since the millet takes longer to mature, the men will go out together every day and help pull peanuts in one woman's field. It takes 2 or 3 days in each field before all the peanuts are up. They rotate through the fields by age of the women, oldest first. The days when men aren't in a woman's field she will still work pulling more up, stacking them to dry, or sweeping the ground for loose nuts. When all the peanuts are up a woman will stack them in a big donut, then the men will come around and build a big huge mound for them to dry out. The mound is covered with thorns and grass to keep goats and cows out. When its time to work the stack, all the men and women take two sticks that look like canes held backwards and pull peanuts off the top of the stack. They walk backwards beating the pile they pulled down until the ground is a a carpet of peanuts, and the stalks are stacked behind you. The work divides again as women pick up and drop bowls of peanuts letting the wind blow away the pieces of dirt and stalk. The men do the opposite, dropping the stalks to clear out peanuts so that they can carry home a big mound of stalks for the donkeys to eat. It goes until all the nuts are cleaned and bagged. Then the men load up the donkey carts and the women head for home on foot

The Harvest

I have never been part of a harvest before and its that time of year in Sami Koto. About 1 month ago people started pulling peanuts out of the ground, but that was less of a harvest than just another step in processing them. Now that all the peanuts are up the real harvest has started in the millet fields. The millet stands about 8 or 9 feet tall and has been drying out since the last rains well over a month ago. Every morning around 630   all the males leave the compound on the donkey cart. When they arrive at the fields, they walk through and knock down all the stalks they plan to harvest for the day. Our family is working with our neighbors, the Keita's. So all the men spend 2 days working one of their fields, and then 2 days working one of our fields. The work in the field is divided by age. All of us in our 20s and 30s will cut the grains off the stalks. When you fill your non cutting hand up, everyone makes a pile on the ground. Then all the kids will pick it up and carry it through the field to a shade tree. Under the tree is a big tarp made of rice bags. All the grain is stacked there, where the oldest men from each  compound sit on the ground tying all the stalks into bundles. Everyone moves pretty quick at least early in the day. The men are walking and cutting and the boys are almost running to move the grain before it piles up in the field. Though everyone is moving, there is a lot more joking and talking than there was while pulling peanuts. Around noon or one when all the during is done everyone moves under the tree to finish tying. Someone will go tie the donkeys to the carts and walk them over. We load each cart with about 40 bundles, and each day we have around 90 bundles. When all the millet is up, we parade home on the carts, on bikes, and on foot. Everyone arrives home and stacks the bundles on the donkey house to dry in the sun before its put up for the year. Whichever compound gets the harvest that day will serve lunch to all who worked, and everyone rests til tomorrow.

Barnum

On Tuesday evening (dates irrelevant) as I was walking by my dads hut he said to me: Tomorrow, we are going to greet a visitor. He doesn't ask much of me so I said sure, I'll be there. He told me the name of the village and the name of the man hosting the visitor. The host cones by our compound quite often to say hi, so I was happy to be returning the favor. My dad also let me know the guest was from Germany, which I took to mean as a Gambian who had found work in Germany.
I got up extra early Wednesday morning, and made a point to come outside before 7 30 to let my dad know I was up and ready. At 8 he said let's go, so I pulled out my bike as he strapped a chicken across his handlebars to give to his friend. On the way I considered things like do I have enough water, what would I be doing at home right now, and how long do I have to stay. The usual considerations when someone else asks you to do something. I figured none of the answers mattered too much as I could handle anything for one day. When we pulled in, I saw a pair of white legs standing across the compound. I thought oh, I guess the guy from Germany brought a friend too. But as it turned out he WAS the visitor from Germany. He was married to a woman from the village, and it wasn't the first time he had been to visit, as my dad knew his name, Barnum. After they served us breakfast, I sat down with him and talked for almost two hours while my dad waited as a patient observer of the conversation. Its the spot I'm usually in, and had assumed I would be in again. Then my dad gave me the signal, and we departed with an invitation to come back and stay the whole day.

Culture

When coming to Gambia I knew the first and only  thing to learn was its culture. We were actually given a book called Gambian culture, and there is a lot of cultural information in the Gambia travel guide. But the hard part is finding the meaning in all those words. Its impossible to know what is written because it was observed at one point in time, and what is written because at every hour of every day it is ingrained in everyone.
One paragraph in the book might mention drinking attaya. It is green tea and sugar brewed over coals, and it is everywhere you go in town. People sitting, drinking attaya and chatting.  You could write a whole book about it. The next paragraph might mention seeing hippos in the river. While that may be a possibility, it involves alot of money for a boat ride to a specific place where you might see one. Hardly as important as attaya.
Now that I have been here for a while, I could probably tell even less about the culture, as the more i learn the more I realize I don't know. Its not what you plan for or anticipate, its the things which just are.
When I went to Japan, I didn't do any real studying on the culture. I had a free pass with Zabeth and her friends who have already done the work of figuring things out there. After three weeks there I felt like I could go back and read the guidebooks, and maybe begin to understand a little bit more. Having a point of reference made watching Mr. Baseball just as insightful as visiting the Imperial Palace.
What has meant the most to me about realizing what culture is- aside from getting three dinner plates on holidays, or smoking cigars indoors in Japan- is realizing my own culture. Sometimes I just want to be inside reading a book for three hours. That doesn't make me a bad person or volunteer, its just part of me and the culture I come from. There's no harm in being myself.

Onsen's

The second opportunity I had for public bathing came at one of Japan's most culturally significant activities. The Onsen, or hot spring bath. These were not wilderness pools, but more like spa's built over naturally occurring hot water. The pools were created with several seats and lounge spots, and were divided by temperature. Before anything you took a nice shower, so that you were completely clean before you got in. Then near the shower was usually an indoor bath, in case the outdoor temperature was disagreeable. Outside was a lukewarm pool for beginners, and then a bigger, hotter pool for some serious lounging. You were expected to be completely naked while bathing, so after you showered you would keep only a hand towel or modesty cloth if you were a little shy. Thankfully each gender had their own locker room and bathing pools, so there was no reason to be super shy. The pools usually had a small fee to enter, and being a value minded American I preferred to soak in the pools for as long as possible. Most of the locals though seemed to stay only as long as it was enjoyable, not risking heat exhaustion just for a few hundred yen. After 45 minutes Zabeth and I would usually meet back near the entrance area, sit in front of the fan, and drink a nice sweet tea from the vending machine. I was happy to learn something Cam has known for a long time, there's nothing like a nice bath.

The Capsule Hotel

For our second night in Tokyo, Zabeth booked us in a capsule hotel. It was ironic because when I told people where I was going they often made a joke out of asking... are you going to stay in a capsule? But, I actually was, to save money and for the cultural experience. Maybe one was weighted a little heavier than the other. I had actually never heard of them before, but they are actually quite brilliant. Instead of getting a hotel room all to yourself, the capsule capitalizes on the idea that some people are only just looking for a bed. So thats what they give you, just a bed. Its right next to about 1,000 other beds that hold people who only want a bed. Its handy if your maybe just passing through, or maybe out all night drinking. Anyway, we walked in and the first thing the staff does is give you a wristband with a four digit number an a key on it. You walk back into the locker room (for lack of a better term) and find the locker that matches your number. You put all your luggage in the locker, and hanging up are a pair of blue boxers and a blue robe. When your ready for bed you can put them on, and leave your clothes in the locker. Then you walk up and lay down in your capsule, which from the outside looks like a bunch of little oven doors attached to the wall. But inside each oven is a mattress, sheets, and a little shelf. Very convenient, maybe a little short but I wasnt complaining. The real cultural experience for me came in the morning when I went back down to the lockers. Everyone who had been sleeping in the capsules was now wide awake, and cleaning up for the day. The hotel had a spa, hot tub, showers, and any soap/razor/shampoo/toothbrush combination you can think of. But being that its efficient, everything was communal. So all these fellow guests were now naked and running to and fro the showers, sinks, and their lockers completely naked. I didnt know where to start cleaning. So I just took my towel off and walked up to one of the plastic buckets that sat in front of a shower nozzle like everyone else was doing and started washing my hair. It was great, i was so clean and I didnt even have to bring my own soap.

Ramaadan

Was a crazy month. It took place back in June. Its the Muslim month of fasting, which means no eating, drinking, insulting, or intimate contact from sun up to sun down for the entire month. The times of the fast were actually based on prayer. There was no eating after the early morning prayer. The prayer normally takes place at six am every morning, but seemed to be even earlier during Ramaadan. People awake roughly around five and eat something small like bread, or a little bit of leftovers from the night before, and maybe some tea. Then they do not consume anything until the final call to prayer which comes around seven thirty in the evening. As soon as the call rings out, a jug of water is on hand and everyone pours themselves a cup of water, and bread is passed out to everyone. People will take a bite, and a drink, and then go around and congratulate each other on another day of fasting done, and one less to go. Then big bowls of sweet breakfast porridge are served, and everybody relaxes and cleans up. They then head out to a big community prayer, to ask for strength in the next day of fasting. Most prayers throughout the day and week take only 10 minutes, but this one every night during the fast took almost half an hour. Then people come home, and just chat and relax. A big dinner is served, but usually isnt eaten until well nito the night, maybe around 11. No matter how late you wait to eat though, you still have to be up around five the next morning, trying to stuff smoe food down just to get you through the next day.

Zabeth

 Lake we walked around

 stopping around the Lake

 Zabeth in the back of her car

Camping at Fuduoson Park

 Birthday

Cocktails

Dining Zen

My first real cultural experience in Japan came in the middle of the first week. It was just after Zabeth and I took our picture that says “Zabeth and I going out for dinner.” We cleaned up and left the apartment, walking through town looking for a new restaurant Zabeth had seen and wanted to try. When we found it, it was shut down for the night. Zabeth had one other place in mind though, and the sign was written in local language, but at the bottom contained an English caption: “Dining Zen.” We walked in. A few people were at the bar, and a small group was sitting on the floor eating at tables. You didn’t have to remove your shoes to go to the bar, so we chose that option. Zabeth greeted everybody, and I remained silent. She ordered us two beers, and the bartender brought them, along with menu’s. Unlike the restaurants in Tokyo, the menu’s contained no English translation of the dishes offered. Realizing we were truly in for it, Zabeth and I pointed to the two diners on either side of us, and both indicated that we would like what they were having. We received Tofu, and some sashimi to go with our beers. All in all a delicious meal and we were both just happy to have survived and dined at a place where we didn’t really no what was going on. We got up to pay hurriedly, so as not to get into any awkward situations due to our lack of understanding at the restaurant. When we got to the register, the previous diner’s tab was 4800 yen. As we waited for ours to be tallied, the bartender and now cashier looked at us from behind his register. We were both ready for any price, but instead he said to us “No Money.” We looked around, and soon realized that he and the other bar patrons were signaling to us, don’t worry your dinner is on us. Zabeth insisted that he take 1,000 yen (about 10 dollars). The true cost of this hospitality was that the three other people at the bar and bartender all asked us to return to our seats and stay awhile. To sweeten the deal the bartender poured everyone a round of Sake, which Im sure no one was displeased with. We started drinking, and cell phones came out complete with apps for English to Japanese translation. I pulled out one of my dads cigars and lit it up, offering some to everyone in exchange for the drink. Each person to a puff, and then coughed, and we all took turns being laughed at. I got to know Hiroki, a father of four and air conditioning repair man. Zabeth had a conversation into an iPhone, which was then repeated in Japanese to a girl the same age as her, who was a waitress at a snack bar. She used the translator to make fun of her boyfriend for his receding hairline, but by the time we got that far in the conversation and Sake drinking every joke was taken pretty lightly. We had a great time, and stayed well past closing. After noticing the bartenders face as he finally put away his bottle, we all got up, exchanged numbers, took pictures and headed home for the night.

The Japanese Era

My awesome brekafast in the Brussels airport

Zabeth with her Gambian bracelet

Zabeth and I before going out for dinner

Zabeth hiking in Zao National Park

Getting to Japan

I got to Tokyo three Fridays ago, August 1st. On the several hour flight I got to drink several beverages, eat several meals, and watch several movies including Her, American Hustle, and The Place Beyond The Pines.  I enjoyed the films, but if you need a more thorough review of any of them you can check out Amateurcinephile.com. I arrived at 8 am and Zabeth was right outside the baggage terminal and customs checkpoint waiting for me. Her trip was almost worse than mine, since she had to take an all night bus from her home in Kakuda to reach the airport at 6 am and then wait for me. I am thankful she did though because I have never been so happy to see somebody. We didn't waste time on greetings though, instead she motioned for me to sprint behind her to the train terminal so we could be on the first train from Narita Airport into the city. When we got to our train stop, we met up with her friend Roxy, put our bags in lockers at the train station and took off as a group to see the city on foot. We ate, walked past a lot of electronics stores, and ended up at Ueno Park to meet with Ethan. He was a teacher close to Zabeth, but was in Tokyo because he is headed back to the US. It was hot in Tokyo and everyone was pretty tired from traveling in so we checked into our hotel and rested until it was dinner time. We went out for Yaka-tori, which meant a lot of cooked meats served on a skewer. Some of the more interesting things we tried were chicken cartilage, horse meat, and pig rectum (all very good). We walked around some more, threw a couple games of darts in a pool hall, and then decided to make the most of our first night in Tokyo. On the streets all day people had been handing out flyers, and one flyer in particular was for a maid cafe. None of us knew exactly what this entailed, but you kind of figure it out just based on the name. It is kind of like a Hooters, but all the waitresses are dressed up as maids. We went to the maid cafe, ate ice cream sundaes, giggled a lot, and then could really consider our first day in Tokyo a success. On our second day Zabeth and I spent some time at the Imperial Palace, just relaxing and trying to sit together for a little while. That night even more of her friends came in to Tokyo to check out a big fireworks festival. We got on the train at 5, and were jam-packed with what seemed like 100,000 other residents once we actually got to the festival. There was a big grass field covered in people, and we took our shoes of and waded out into the sea of people to find a spot for everyone to sit down. The show was incredible, going on for almost two hours. As we watched our own show, we could see several others taking place in different parts of the city. Though I don't know the name of our festival Im sure it was the best.

Japanese Baseball

Sunday, August 17th Zabeth and I took the train down to Sendai to watch the Tohoku Rakuten Eagles play the Chiba Lotte Marines. Tohoku is the home team, and they are named after the region of Tohoku, Rakuten is the company that owns the team. I assume Chiba is the same way but I don't know. Anyway, I first heard about the team because Zabeth went to a game a few months ago. Then, as soon as we arrived here from Tokyo there was a huge team poster, and coincidentally there star player is none other than Andruw Jones. We tried to go twice last week, but the teams entire series was rained out. It looked like the same would happen this week, and each day of the series the sky was gray, and drizzly. Yet, it miraculously held off during each game time long enough for them to get in a full series. We actually decided not to go on Friday and Saturday because it was so rainy that we figured they wouldn't play. Sunday was the last chance though, so we got down to Sendai about five hours before game time and figured that if we missed the game at least we could have a full day in town. We really didn't though, because it was Andruw Jones bobble head giveaway, and gates opened at three. Which means we started heading to the stadium at 2. We finally found the bobble head line, and then realized we had to walk way back to the other side of the stadium just to join the line. We did, and when it was our turn the usher told us we needed a card to get in... It seemed we were out of luck, but a passerby flashed a plastic card of some sorts at the usher and she said ohh yes and let us right in. They gave us our dolls, and with two hours to spend before the game we went to the world beer tent and drank Brooklyn Lager and Blue Moon's. At five we went in, paring the rain would hold off at least for one inning. It held off long enough for the Eagles to go up three runs, and win the game 3-1!!!!! The main differences I couldn't help but notice: 1) the fans in the left field bleachers all had coordinated cheers for each batter complete with flags, drums, and led by a conductor. 2) The leadoff hitter in the first inning got on base, was bunted over to third, and the infield was immediately brought in, with one out in the 1st inning. 3) The seventh inning stretch is celebrated by everyone in the stadium blowing up balloons and then releasing them into a high pitch squeal at a synchronized moment.
Japanese Baseball=Awesome
Andruw Jones: 2 for 3 to raise his season average to .215...

Photos

I ordered these glasses to replace a pair I lost. i ordered them because they make me look like somebody else... Pap..a

 This is the South Bank highway from Basse to Fatoto, its what I take home from Basse to Sami Koto

 My sister, new sister in law (both named Syrra) washing clothes at the well

Storm building over my hut

Storm hitting right on the compound

 African Locust Bean

 The fence on the far left is Sami Koto, the building on the far right are Sami Kuda, and in between is the space, or soccer field that separates the two villages

This is what the river looks like, on a Sunday evening

Last Week

I had a good last week. Saturday morning, I planned to ride my bike to Basse so that I could spend the day here before taking the bus down to Kombo. However, Malcolm's village played mine in soccer on Saturday night so we had to stick around and watch that first. That didn't change that we still had to catch a Sunday morning bus, so after the game and dinner we put on our headlights and rode about an hour down the road from my village to the village of Sare Alpha, where our buddy Selina lives. We stayed with her and at 6 in the morning got up and hit the road to Basse, caught the bus, and made Kombo Sunday night. Monday and Tuesday was an event called All Vol. They just have all the volunteers come together, and in the morning some administrators will go over small things that everyone needs to know, like phone numbers  or password changes. Then the afternoon volunteers would have the option to visit people from other groups and listen to presentation about projects they are working on. After the conference most people went to the beach. I caught an ultimate Frisbee game at the MRC. Monday night we caught the USA Ghana world cup game, and then Tuesday night we had an open mic. It was a fun couple of days, and it was good to come together and see everybody. It made me realize that I was part of a bigger group, instead of just someone living in the bush. I actually really like the feeling of living alone in the bush most times, so I guess the group thing helped remind me who paid for my ticket here. Wednesday morning most people hung around and watched movies and talked. It was tempting to delay my return for another day, but I knew the party was over and it was time to get home. I caught a mid day bus, and made it back to Basse late Wednesday night. Yesterday, no one else was around the house, so I took time to wash clothes, write some blogs, clean up and organize my locker, make a bag to be delivered by the next vehicle, trim my beard, eat some beef jerky, listen to music, drink coffee, get on the internet, etc. Strangely enough I didnt sit still very much yesterday. Since that's one thing I have to do alot of in the village, I didnt want to leave this morning without having relaxed a little here to ease the transition of going back home. Thats probably the hardest thing is going from town where you can find things to entertain yourself, eat, and spend money on, and then going back to the village where you have to create all your time for yourself. Conversely, having that time is what makes it really great there, but the adjustment can be a little tough. I do have my bike here with me, and knowing that I get to ride home makes it alot funner than when I will be sitting in the car park all afternoon waiting for a vehicle. It's going to be 106 today, so Im gonna take some time in the shade this afternoon at the Basse house, then head out this evening. Ill try and stay in the village for most of the next month. I'll be leaving for Japan soon, so Im going to try and spend all my time in the village until then. I want Zabeth to meet a hardened bush resident when I show up, not some suburban commuter! 

Water

There are several wells throughout the two villages, because this is all people had for drinking water for a long time. To get water from the well, you just drop a bucket down the hole, dangle it, and then pull the rope back up. This is actually one of my favorite activities, but I can see how a full life of it would get pretty tiring. There is now one hand pump and the school, so you literally just crank a big lever and set your bucket under the tap. But, the pride of the community is actually a project that the volunteer before me did. It’s a solar powered pump, and storage tank that sits about twenty feet off the ground. Twice a day the tank will fill, and then it will go out to three taps in old Sami, and at least one tap in new Sami. I don’t get my water there so I actually don’t know how many they have. When the pumps turn on all of the women, will grab their big pans and their bidongs- twenty liter jugs that cooking oil is sold in- and fill up all of the containers they can. They will just keep making trips from the pump to home until the pump is turned off. I have three bidongs, so I generally fill up two of them each day and carry them back to my hut one in each hand. Everyone else is stronger with their head so they just carry pans up there. When they get home they put the drinking water in a big clay pot called a jibida, which helps keep it cool. Other than drinking water, you need water for bathing. Water for watering your garden in your backyard. The kitchen always needs water for cooking. The donkeys and cows need water. Then you need some water for washing dishes after meals. If the pump turns off before you have water for all of these things its okay, because you can just go to a well and pull some up any time of day. Some people actually prefer drinking well water because they think its cooler, and don’t like water that has been run through the holding tank. For me at least its safer to drink water that comes straight from the ground. When women do laundry they also use a lot of water, Instead of bringing it all home, they will just do laundry right next to a well, making laundry time and pump time also a pretty fun social time.

Sami Koto

So after you make it to Garawol on the gelly and are riding your bike down the road to Sami Koto here’s what you’ll find. The main road actually dead ends right into the small village of Sami Kuda. Sami Kuda means New Sami, and is actually separated from Sami Koto (old Sami) by a football field, the English School, and some crop land. There are a little under 800 people in total in the old and new part of the village. The reason for the split is… well I don’t know exactly but you can imagine. The new part of the village actually has their own governing structure, which means their own Alkaloo and Village Development Committee. There is only one English school, and one Arabic school though where both parts of the village send their kids. So its all one village, but its kind of in two parts.
Everyone is pretty much a farmer, and all the land that surrounds old and new Sami is used for growing crops, kind of like a halo around the town. The men grow millet, and they have just finished planting all their fields. They will start work after the first rain. The women do all of the peanut planting, and they will have just started planting because we had our third good rain last night. Since the men start after the first rain, they will have a longer season, and can grow another round of millett, and usually corn on their extra land. Millett is the main staple crop for Sami, and we eat it every meal along with peanut sauce. The extra peanuts can be sold after the harvest, but the millett is all for home consumption. Almost every compound in the community has at least one person who is working abroad, so they will send money home for rice. Our compound is all millett though.   

Fathers Day

In an example of the relationship I have with my dad, I spent the Father’s Day on Sunday not calling or writing, or emailing him, but rather grinning from ear to ear as I opened and went through a package he sent me. Its an example of our relationship because he was the one looking out for me and going out of his way to send things that cheered me up, and I got the joy on a day that was supposed to be for him. Now, instead of calling or writing you can bet that Im sitting on the porch in the middle afternoon smoking a cigar and drinking a cup of coffee.

Im doing alright. Its partly because of the packages, supplies, treats and reminders of home that you ( and everyone) has sent me, but its mostly because you taught me responsibility (when you didn’t let me get away with alcohol in high school), accountability (when you were there waiting on the back corner of Edgemere Elementary every day when school was out), frugality (everyone probably has there own story), and resourcefulness (making me a hat rack out of a baby gate).
And mom, all I do here is go around and talk to people. It’s the same thing you do in El Paso. My goal here is just to know as many people in the village as you do in El Paso. It was always tough going to Smokeys because we could never just sit down, we had to meet and talk to all of your friends. Now, when I have to get up and walk through the village to pick up a candle, and I know that Im gonna have to talk to about 100 people before I get there, its not such a big deal. And you know how you always made us drive across town to eat at a shady Mexican place, and wouldn’t settle for something close to home? Well now I have no problem walking into a corrugate lean to and sitting on a bench next to a bunch of strangers, and sharing a huge bowl of rice with them.

You guys taught me everything, and each day it helps me to get by, understand, and generally enjoy myself living with people speaking a different language in a place I never knew existed.
Thanks

 This is the back door to my hut with my Follow me to El Cosmico sticker above it.

 This is everyone walking from Old Sami to new Sami when we were going to throw change at the bride.

 This is my brother Ibraima with his wife's sister a couple of nights before the wedding.

 Sirra laying on the ground, covered up, and somebody picking money up for her.

 Me, Bilali Jallow, and my brother Bakary one night around the wedding.

 This is what the car park in Basse looks like when your getting a vehicle.

You just walk up to somebody, tell them where your going, and they point you to the right vehicle.

Disclaimer

I need to write a disclaimer for my blog to let people know that the things I write dont represent the views of the United States Government, or of the United States Peace Corps. Likewise, no information I convey represents the views or opinions of the Gambian Government. The things I write are however intended to honor the love, guidance and support that my friends and family in the US have given me in encouraging me to come here. And all of the good times, experience, and learning I have been able to do here has been facilitated by the new friends and family who have welcomed me here in the Gambia, so it is my intention to share with everybody how grateful I am to them for everything. Thanks!

Getting To and From Sami Koto

Im pretty happy that I am so close to Basse, so if I want to get to there here is what I have to do: First, I will bike south for about 15 minutes to the town of Garawol. Luckily there is another volunteer there named Alicia. She will let me leave my bike in her house, and then I can walk to where the vans are parked in Garawol. The vans are actually called gellys. They are huge vans that are hollowed out, and then reconstituted with bench seats, so they can generally hold at least twenty people. Where you get on and off is called the Car Park. From Garawol, maybe two or three vans will leave each morning at six am, so I can either ride the night before and stay with Alicia, or leave at about 5:30 am while its still dark. The road that runs through Garawol is all dirt, and is actually perpendicular to the main highway, so when the gelly leaves it drives due south to Sudowol to meet the main highway. From Basse, the main highway is also not paved but there is alot more traffic than on the small road to Garawol, so the gellys will find some good ruts to drive in. The roads often meander across the road, so your just as likely to be on the right or left side. Its not a problem though because in the morning all the traffic is headed towards Basse. The trip takes about an hour and a half, and with no problems you can be in Basse by about 7 30 am, which is enough time to get on the public bus that will leave for all the major towns at 8, or to have some coffee and an egg sandwhich while you wait for the internet cafe to open at 9.
After the gelly arrives it will start running around Basse, picking up supplies from town that are needed in the village. Mostly its things like cement, bags of rice, maybe some special wood, beds, dressers, or mattresses. But if there's anything else that you need to get back, the gelly will load it all (for  a fee) and bring it back.
To get back to the village you can head to the Basse Car Park around 12, and hope that the vehicle is full of both freight and passengers by 1 pm. If its not full, or still has errands to run then you will be sitting in the car park until everything is ready. Or if it was all full and ready to go and has left without you, then you can wait for the next one which usually leaves around 5 pm. If I hear that theres no more gelly's to Garawol, then I will usually look for the ones headed to Fatoto or Koina. Those two towns are farther east down the main highway than Garawol, and I can drop at the junction and walk in about half an hour back to Alicia's place for my bike, pick it up, and ride the last fifteen minutes home in time for dinner.

Ibraima's Wedding

So my brother Ibraima got married just after I got back from training. I have some pictures, but I wont be able to upload them for another time. Ibraima is about one year older than me, and his new bride(Sirrah) is actually from the new part of Sami, which lies across the soccer field. They have a duaghter together (Kumba), so I think they were officially married in the mosque about one year ago, but waited until this year for the ceremony. They waited because he works in Senegal for most of the year, and the wedding is expensive. I don't know everything about what I participated in, but after going to a few marriage ceremonies I definitely know more now than I did before. Here's what I know: First, a couple of weeks before the ceremony my brothers all built a new hut for Ibraima and Sirra. They put up a backyard fence and an outdoor bed, so its really a complete suite. About a week before the wedding my brother quit going over to her compound to visit, which signaled that she was kind of off limits until the wedding. My other brothers and I were still supposed to go over though and chat with her, treat her like part of the family. The wedding was on a Thursday, and on the Tuesday before Sirra made an appearance. She was fully covered in cloth and led out into the center of the common area. There she laid on the ground, completely covered. A crowd gathered around here with drummers playing and people dancing. Then people just started walking up to her and throwing money at her. Someone was there beside her to collect it all. This went on only for about an hour and then the crowd dispersed pretty early. The next afternoon I went over to her compound and all the women were dying her feet black, braiding her hair, and putting jewelery on her. In addition to making up the bride, they were also cooking HUGE amounts of lunch. During a ceremony they give out food to all of the friends and family around, which means pretty much anyone in the village. The brides family cooks for about three days before the wedding. Finally the wedding day came, and it was surprisingly really really tame at our house. Finally around 11 at night we rounded up together and set off for Sirra's compound to pick up the bride. We didnt go straight there though, we just sat outside for awhile until her family was ready to let her go. I think it was 2 am before the whole crowd, bride included, returned to the compound. At that point the bride just sits on the bed, and everyone comes in and sits around her and starts chatting. They brew attaya, and everyone hangs out pretty much all night. The next morning the same community cooking then switches to the new compound, so it was huge bowls of rice, bread, meat, fish, and all sorts of food at my compound. The bride will then keep sitting on the bed and the whole next day people will just come by to see her and sit and chat. Its essentially just aknowledging that shes a bride, and has a new home. She actually doesnt leave the hut for an entire week, which sounds bad, but people will fetch all of her water, and she does all the cooking in the backyard. On the next Thursday she makes an appearance, walking around town with all her beads and finest clothes on. She goes to all the compounds and most people give her a little money. Other highlights of that day are the first time she pounds grain, and the first time she washes her husbands clothes. Then at some point she just starts being a part of the new family, which is where we are now!

 Alysa, Malcolm, and Alex after we finished painting the living room at the transit house

Me and Malcolm celebrating a job well done on the back porch of the transit house

House Painting

I made it to Basse yesterday specifically to participate in helping paint the Transit House today. The Transit House is a house owned by Peace Corps, with a bunch of bunk beds in it and its essentially a big communal space where people can go when they need to do something in town or just want to get out of their village for a few days. I am pretty far up the country away from Kombo (there is a really nice transit house there) but I feel lucky because I am so close to the second biggest city, Basse, and the transit house here. I generally try to avoid any extra work, but since the house is such a luxury for me I wanted to contribute to its upkeep. In the village work is done not so much according to a clock, but according to the time of day and length of the job. People get up around six and are usually back from their chores around ten before it gets too hot. Alot of times the work is just going to the bush to collect firewood, poles for building, or grass for weaving together for a fence or roof. Every so often there is a bigger task, like for example making huts for the school teachers or mending the Womens Garden's fence. For both of these projects all the men in the village agreed on a day to meet. They woke up, hd breakfast and then all met either at the school or the garden. Then, maybe because they've worked together so much, everyone will just start working and going and they know what to do until in about three hours the job is done. At home we would probably take on a fence or house project solo, and devote evenings and weekends to it until in a few months it was finished. But here, everyone just gives up a morning, works together and gets it done. With that kind of work schedule, I was dreading the commitment of house painting for two days. Once we started though, it felt great to be working, listening to music, and enjoying peoples company that you dont get to see that much. Sometimes I get so used to trying to be a part of the community that I dont want to do anything out of the ordinary, like extra work. But today was a good reminder that even though I have to be a part of the community, its okay to do things that are different every once in a while. And tomorrow morning we'll be painting the floors red.

Travelling to Basse and Swimming in Fatoto

I came to Basse this morning because there is a small work party going on to paint the House that we all stay in here. I dont do much work when I am in the village, and would prefer to do even less when not in the village, but since Im so close to the house and it is so nice to have I feel like I should contribute to the effort of beautifying it. Malcolm is on the house committee so he is here too, and our friend Alysa needed to take a trip so she decided just to come up and see us first and then we would all ride down to Basse together. They got to my house Wednesday night, and Thursday morning we had planned the whole day by the river. Since its so hot weve been scouting swimming spots, and found a great one to try yesterday. We rode bikes there around noon, laid down the bikes and set up to get in the water. Malcolm didnt find it sufficient to just get in the water, he wanted to jump in off the bank. So he did. Then Alysa decided to do the same, she took a slow running start and then got a little cold feet, so instead of jumping off the bank she just slid down it on her butt, but still made the water. I jumped in next and we all swam across the Gambia river and back again. We got out of the water, ate sausage sandwiches (summer sausage brought from home), mangos and then all napped in the shade, for most of the afternoon. Around five we roused, and got back in the water for round two, and then of course some more sitting and chatting before we got home. We relaxed so hard that we barely made it home before dark. Everyone was pretty drained, so we just went right to bed and decided we should take a vehicle today to Basse instead of our original plan of all riding bikes. The thing is the only vehicle leaves at six am, and the town is about 15 minutes away from Sami Koto, so we had to get up at five to get there in time. We managed that part, but as soon as we were on the road realized we had a flat bike tire, but there was nowhere to go but forward. We pumped the down tire and then rode a fast sprint for about three minutes before stopping to do it all again. This repeated maybe five times, and to be honest it was a pretty amazing effort to make Garawol in the time we did having to pump the tire, however it was still 20 minutes after the vehicle was gone. From Garawol we decided to walk another 40 minutes out to the main highway where we might catch another vehicle passing by. We laid there, still tired for about two hours wondering how long we should wait before calling it a day and trying to get on tomorrow. Luckily, this big cell tower service truck was coming out of Garawol and pulled right over and told us to get in the back seat and drove us all the way to Basse.

Corrections!

I had written about the wonderful boxes I received from Megan, my dad, and my mom. All the boxes are still great and beautiful, but I think I made an error. While home over the last month I was eating dried apricots from the Austin box, and writing a letter to Aunt Judy. The apricots were wonderful and I was answering a card that Judy put in Megan's box, when my apricots were gone and I went back to the box for the second bag, I noticed that Megan had used Judy's address for the return address on the box, I at first attributed this to laziness, as if you didnt have time to write out your own full address you would just use somebody that lived close to you and had an easier address to write. But then I realized Megans street would actually be easier to write than Judy's... and that Judy didnt just slip a card in Megan's box.... She actually sent me the box!!!! It didnt change how much I loved the content of the box, but it did give me a slightly different feeling. When it was Megan's box I had imagined it displayed in the kitchen, maybe holding some Mediterranean spices. But Judy's box reminds me of that cool box in the top of the closet with all these old black and white photos that you love to get out and show people. When I leave here someday I would have picked the person I thought to be the coolest volunteer, and put in everything I thought was handy and given them Megans box because it was special and cool to me. Now I know that Ill put everything special to me that has come from everybody I love at home, and carry it all home again with me inside of Judy's box because it makes me feel warm and cozy and cared for... and still pretty cool. Sorry about the mix up. Im going home soon to eat the beef jerky and potato chips, I have been saving them in Basse.

Zabeth

Zabeth left for Japan last week to teach English for the next year. She left from El Paso, so my dad once again got to say goodbye to somebody he loves at the airport. Her first week in training was in a hotel in Tokyo and I was in town for training we got to talk every morning for her and every night for me. She left a few days ago to travel towards where she will be working, and I haven't heard from her since she made the move. Since I don't have access to the internet for a few weeks at a time when Im in Sami Koto I understand, and realize its a lot easier to be the one without internet rather than the one waiting to get word. Stamps for mail to the US are 25 dalasi, but I don't know if many letters go to Japan from The Gambia so it will be an experiment finding out how much it costs to send something there. When people are doing their greetings, they ask about the family, the home people, and then how my wife is doing.  I did say she is in America, but soon she is going to work in Japan, and then in one year she will come to visit Gambia. There are a few people that I think really understand what I’m saying, so I am anxious to finally tell them no longer is she in America, but now she is in fact in Japan.
Update: I talked to Zabeth this morning, I think shes in her apartment and doing fine

Zabeth (In Las Cruces)

Zabeth (In Japan!)

Business

This is our counterparts processing honey. You jest cut off the wax caps and let the honey drain off through a poplin cloth into a bucket.

 This is a big huge tree with several hives in it.

Me and Malcolm sitting on the back porch of the house in Basse.

 Darin, a volunteer, and Ballah the trainer who taught all the bee-keeping lessons finishing up the class with honey tasting.

My brother Bakary cutting honey.

Gift Horses

While we were in Basse I was lucky to receive three huge boxes from my mom, my dad, and cousin Megan. Normally, I would either have to come down to the city to pick them up, or every other month they will get delivered by a vehicle on whats called mail run. While we were in training though, our Dr. (Dr. Dziwa Blessing) decided to take a trip through the country to see where everybody lived. He brought all the packages for people that lived past Basse, and so when he pulled over for the day in Basse he gave me all of the packages. I took them out into the garden with my headlight so that I could open them away from the group. The first box I opened was from my mom, it was full of the stuff that mere mortals would refuse to put in the mail, but not my mom. She sent me two huge jars of Nutella chocolate spread, girl scout cookies, tons of peanut butter crackers that were smashed in transit but proved to be just as good when poured as crumbs into my mouth. I asked for toothbrushes, and toothpaste, and got enough to last me and a handful of villagers until Christmas of 2015.  I also asked for something about El Paso to remind me of home, and my mom gave me the finest hardcover books ever published on the city, but just to have something to compare it to she also sent a magazine on New Mexico, the West in general and five or so National Geogrpahic's, just so I would have a sense of place. The box was heavy, expensive to send, and full of luxury items that only my mom would ever send and I can never say thanks enough for. My dads box was economically packed full of good(i.e.)s centered around a new pair of shoes. He included a million instant coffee packs, which are actually the kind of thing that is really popular here and works good for me. He also included one fine bag of real ground coffee, which I will probably keep in Basse and drink only when I am on a mini vacation there and have nothing to interrupt my coffee drinking. To fill in space between coffee and shoes, he also sent a lot of packs of tuna and pink salmon, and some beef jerky. One plastic bag of beef jerky was compromised by rats in the mail room, but not compromised enough to keep me from eating it right away, and then finishing it up with girl scout cookies. For everyone who knows Megan, or Judy, or if you know anyone cool, a description of her box will come as no surprise. Its a retro green hardcover box, and my address is printed on graph paper. Inside the box is no regard for economical packing, or sense of desperation that space is running out. There are items, and they speak for themselves. A bag of beef jerky, a pack of salmon, a bar of dark chocolate, and perhaps the coolest thing ever sent across the ocean… a bag of kettle cooked barbecue potato chips. My moms box is a 4x4 pickup truck blaring country music with the windows down on a lift and huge tires, my dads box is a Prius bringing home 50 pounds of oatmeal and tri-tip from the Costco, and Megan's box is James Dean cruising his motorcycle down the alley. No matter what comes or doesn't come, whoever is checking up on me means so much and makes me a pretty lucky guy. Thanks So Much!

Training in Kombo

We got to the city on Friday, which is called Kombo - (the capital is Banjul, but the connecting towns and villages are all referred to as Kombo) including Fajara, the name of the town where the Peace Corps house that we stay at and office are. Immediately everyone went to the beach, and I lucked out by getting to play some volleyball. Then, Saturday through Monday were all sitting in the office and getting affiliated with Peace Corps policy, until Tuesday again when we had more village representatives come for training. This training however was on honey bees. Its considered a, Agricultural Program goal because honey can sell for alot of money, thereby increasing farmers incomes. The problems though are that people who do like honey often just burn down a hive and then harvest honey but also dead bees. The product is smoky, cant be sold, and kills the colony. My brother Bakary came along with one person from everybody's village and from Tuesday until last night we went to training at a place called Beecause. They are a non profit that actually travels around the country teaching people how to catch bees, manage them, and then harvest and sell honey and wax. They have a small property with tons of beehives on it. First, they talked about how bees live, whats on the combs, and where you put hives and organizational stuff like that. Then around six pm we all got into bee suits and went out and actually opened up the hives, collecting honey and repairing unhealthy combs. We harvested a little honey, and then the next day was all about processing it, making candles, soap, and of course eating honey. Yesterday we got to go back in the evening to go out bee keeping again. This has definitely been the highlight of training because... they feed us a huge dinner when we get back, but also because it was really neat just sitting around on this beautiful property from the afternoon until the evening. We all just hung out chatted, and napped, because you wait until night when the bees are all back in the hive before you go and check on them. Since we werent going out until around seven, we would get back around nine and then dinner would be waiting for us, along with raw honey comb for dessert. We got home all nights after nine, but if youve been fed, harvested honey, and enjoyed a nice cool night outside theres really nothing to complain about.

Training in Basse

For the past two weeks we have been in training again. Our first two months were all about learning language and culture, the most important things. But they called us all back together to learn the more technical and hands on stuff were encouraged to be doing in the village. Last last Monday I and the eight other Environment volunteers all met in Basse. There is a garden there at the Peace Corps house so we have free reign. Monday was all lectures, paperwork signing, and making sure that everyone had a good first three months getting used to their site. On Tuesday they actually had one representative from each of our villages come to Basse as well to go through garden training with us. Its not so much that as volunteers we need to be taught how to loosen up soil and plant seeds, but bringing somebody from the village around to see a formal training and giving them the chance to ask questions straight to our Program managers about things just gives a little bit of legitimacy to the fact that a stranger is there to help work in the garden or on the farm. Tuesdays training including digging garden beds, transplanting vegetables, but also planting and transplanting trees, as well as selecting, cutting, and then grafting trees together. Wednesday was how to treat and store seeds, how to make fences out of trees, and more grafting practice. Our village representatives went home on Thursday, and then we shifted to doing paper work and listening to some more lectures. I asked the garden master from the Arabic school to come as my counterpart (his name is Omar, hes in one of the pictures), but since he has to teach on Tuesday and Wednesdays the school sent a woman named Mariamma who is a teacher in training, which means she just hangs around the school and helps out however she can. Aside from the knowledge and practice, the coolest thing about bringing people from our village with us was just the way everyone had fun in a huge group. At all the break times all of our Gambian counterparts would just go sit under a mango tree and drink attaya, so even if they didnt learn anything they were having fun. Peace Corps also put them up in a hotel, and provided all of the breakfast, lunches, and dinners, which are huge, diverse, and full of the produce that you cant always find in the village. Friday was a travel day, and we all loaded up in the huge Peace Corps van and got a free ride to the big city for some more training...

Photos

 This is my nursery the first week I planted it, in January.

 This is the side window in my hut with my new orange curtain up.

 This is Mustas on the left and Omar on the right, they are putting peanut butter into a smaller jug... one spoonful at a time. They are both teachers at the Arabic school/

 On the far left are my aunts Sona Sanne and Damba Balise, the little baby is Musa and he mostly doesnt like me. The boy driving is my quasi brother, or maybe cousin, he lives in the compound, his name is Maddie. The other woman is from another compound.

 This is the back door to my hut, after my brothers built a porch for it

 This was my nursery last week

 This is me and my brother Bakary, in his hut

This is at a conference that I came to in Basse called Environmental Best Practices Knowledge Fair

Exchange Rate

The exchange rate between dollars and dalasis is somewhere around 35 to 1. That means if I were to go to a bank and give them an American dollar I would get roughly 35 Dalasis back. This makes the currency almost seem like play money, and if there is anything you really really wanted you could simply find an ATM and withdraw about 20 dollars from your American account and have somewhere near 1000 extra dalasi to use on your purchase. I try not to see things as they would cost in American dollars though, because we have Gambian bank accounts and get paid in Dalasi, so there is no point in going through all of these conversions. Some common items that people buy here are green tea and sugar. A bag of sugar is 8 dalasi and the tea is 5. So its 13 dalasi to brew tea. My instant coffee is about 225 for a can that will last a week and a half at least. My bath soap is 30 dalasi a bar. Phone credit is another big thing I purchase, and that seems to disappear at a rate of about 10 dalasi a minute if Im calling my dad or Zabeth. My breakfast this morning of an egg sandwhich and coffee was about 60 dalasi. The fare to get to Basse from Sami is 50 dalasi. All that really is pretty cheap when you consider its less than 4 American dollars to ride a van to Basse, and eat breakfast, but in terms of my income (about 5000 dalasi a month) a few meals out and a car ride a week eats it up pretty quick. On the first of every month I give my host dad 1000 dalasi for rent and for all the food I get. The 500 for food is really not enough, so each week I go to the market and try and spend about 200 on either food I give to my family, or stuff I eat so that Im taking less food from them. Being in village though, there is hardly anything to spend money on, just some produce at the market and then whatever thing I can think of to buy for a craft project after that. I am able to leave alot on the bank so that if I want to go and have a big weekend there is enough money there.The exchange rate is awesome if you are considering only taking a trip,and converting dollars to dalasi just to cover expenses, but since I get paid in it it doesnt make much difference.

Noo Boro

This is the Mandinkan term for wrestling. Around the new year my host family staged a wrestling match in the field just behind our compound. It was not a novel occurence, there are these village wrestling matches that draw wrestlers and residents from neighboring towns to come over, have alot of fun, and watch some wrestling. I was familiar with it because the volunteer before me was actually a wrestler. The family took him to watch a match and he told them that he wanted to try it. They didnt know he had experience as an actual wrestler, so when somebody from Sami Koto finally tried to wrestle a little with him he abruptly pinned them. They organized matches for him and he wrestled all around the Sami area. I had my two nearest volunteers come over on the Saturday night of wrestling to check the whole thing out. However, as soon as they got to town my dad said... Its gonna be tomorrow now. They stayed the night anyway, but had to leave before the actual wrestling. It finally did happen though on the next day, but the event wasnt really about the wrestling. At about 6 all the wrestlers and a group of drummers paraded around town with all the villagers following along and taking turns dancing. It was alot like posse that surrounds a boxer before a big fight, except it went all through the village and then eventually to the "ring" and then around the field for two or three times before the actual wrestling. The wrestling is pretty simple, whoever throws the other person down first wins. There is no visible schedule of matches, people just challenge each other. Then eventually there is a match, and the winner jumps up and everybody rushes him, and you know who is the champion for the evening.

These are a few big catfish that my dad caught. He fishes in a swamp, so the fish are just coming back into season as the weather heats up and the river starts to rise.

This is my uncle, he fishes out of the river using a canoe and a net, so hes weighing the fish he brought back and is gonna sell.

Malcom and I went to a track meet, and this is a kid taking off for the long jump

.

These two girls are in the three legged race at the track meet.

This is Malcom, he is a health volunteer and lives about 20 kilometers passed me in a village called Song Kunda. He is the farthest volunteer out in the country, every Sunday we meet at the market in Fatoto and hang out.

This is my mom in the orange head wrap, and my aunt in the yellow. This was on my second day in village, and they are repeatedly dropping  peanuts and letting the wind carry off the vines and rocks. This process is called Tia Feo.

This is wrestling.