Dean... you can't swim!

Today, I biked the 40km to Basse so that I could visit friends and pick up more stuff for the Nursery School/talk with people at specific offices here about maybe getting a new well put in the women’s garden at Kuraw.

Dean Pritchard decided to follow me.

All was going well until we got to Lizzy’s village and he started favoring his back leg. Liz and I were really pushing ourselves and made it to Basse in a little over 2 hours… last time we made the trek it was over 3 hours. So Dean is hopping along behind us on 3 legs and I’m thinking, okay, I have this manorexic dog with 3 legs who won’t stop following me… oh well, at least he’ll turn around once we hit the river.

Wrong. Dead wrong.

Dean climbs up on one of the metal canoe boats as we drift off to cross the river. “Bye Dean!” I yell, “See you in 2 days!” What does he do? LEAPS off the boat and into the water. He starts pawing ferociously at the water, making this terrible thumping noise every time his front 2 paws hit the water.

Liz starts laughing and I start to panic.

“What kind of dog doesn’t know how to swim?!” I say, yelling. Our boat man is just laughing and says, “Why, look. This dog really likes you. He is trying to follow.” Well no kidding, buddy. At this point the dog is trying to climb up onto the boat and I could hear his nails scratching the side of it.

At this point, I am laughing and tears are streaming down my face.

“Someone help this dog!” I shout, Liz laughing in front of me as 3 boats pass us full of Gambians pointing at the dog that can’t swim. We are in the middle of the river and I notice the look on Dean’s face: pure terror. His yellow eyes were wide with complete panic and he started making this horrible whining noise… so I very nearly jump in after the son of a gun to save him… Liz holds me back.

We make it to shore, and Dean is alive. In fact, he’s currently asleep on the floor beside me, where he has been for the past 6 hours.

Forst Fyr: Git On Yor Tant

Maiyo in the garden
Amie in the garden

The walk back from the Garden :o]

Just a quick blurb before I go eat dinner with my family… was hanging out with the women next door today, playing with their babies and helping them crack peanuts when the Mosque’s PA system went off. It was 3 o’clock, NOT time for prayer, and when I asked the women what was going on, they said, “Fire comes now now.” Let me preface this by saying at 1:00 it was 120 degrees outside… so at this point it was BRUTAL and we were all dripping with sweat.

I start freaking out as large clouds of smoke billow towards Kuraw… and the women start asking me why Liz isn’t dating Bakary. Suddenly dozens of men go sprinting past the compound, machetes in hand, yelling, “We go to the bush, we fight the fire!” …with machetes. No water. I saw one bucket and it was empty [Ashley later informed me that true forest fire fighters do not use water. Shows how much I know!].

Needless to say, the fire is still burning. It is on the very outskirts of Kuraw and is quickly heading towards Diabugu. My days here are so wonderfully frightening, I don’t know how I haven’t lost my mind yet!

Oh and ps…. The dog that I named Dean Pritchard pooped out a mass of white, wriggling worms today. I almost vomited. I don’t even want to know what’s in my GI system, what with all this diarrhea I’m having.

Kuraw's on fire!

Dead Bird Number 5

[a picture of Momodou and F.O.]

Just a quick note… today was much like yesterday, although I went on trek with Ebrima, the new CHN nurse here in Kuraw. It was fun! I’m going back on Thursday for the clinic at Momadie Ceesay, a village about 8 or 9 km away.

I was just outside in my compound when Momodou [formerly known as the compound crazy] discovered a dead chicken on the side of the kitchen hut. As he picked it up and said, “Isa! A jiibe!” [Look!], all I could think was, ‘that thing better not have had the bird flu.’ Noticing Senne [age 2], Lamin [age 4], and Sirra [also age 4], Momodou decided to have fun and began chasing them with the dead bird. I was horrified. The body was stiff and yet its’ head was still bobbing around. Around and around they all went, the younger children screaming and Momodou drooling/laughing. I began to get nauseated with the sight and told him to stop. What does he do? He begins chasing a sheep, flinging out the chicken to hit the poor thing with it. I tell him to throw the bird… and he does, directly at the sheep. Mid-air, one wing and the head flies off. I was so appalled I started laughing and couldn’t stop… in fact, I am still laughing now. It was grotesque and morbid and hilarious all at the same time. Oh, Africa… you are too wonderful.

THE CARPENTER.

Can't tell me this isn't hot for 10am.


The Nursery School!

Today was very, very busy. I got up at 7 to go for my usual morning run and then weighed babies all morning. RCH Clinics are always hectic but today was extra wonderful because it was here in Kuraw, and it showed me just how many people I actually know in this village.

After having lunch, I rounded up the village children so that we could go to the carpenter’s to get the furniture for the nursery school project I am working on. After hunting down the carpenter and him yelling at me for an average of 7 minutes and 32 seconds, the kids piled into his backyard and immediately began hefting the benches and tables. It was quite the sight to see! I lagged behind at the back of the train, and as I carried the end of the bench around the corner, I looked in front of me. Stretching about a tenth of a mile were children and furniture galore. I stopped, completely taken with the sight in front of me… thus causing the bench to fall as well as the children helping me carry it. They all shouted exclaims of surprise, but I just stood there. In the distance, I saw 5 boys struggling with the extra-large table by the pump. Behind them were two girls balancing chairs on their heads. Next in line were about 9 pre-school age children attempting to drag Bench #2… and I followed with Bench #1. Edrissa and Elijie [2 high school boys] came out of my compound and immediately helped the younger children with Bench #2. It was just another one of those moments where I was almost overtaken with joy. I cannot describe it, but The Gambia is really helping me to appreciate the small things in life.

The Fight!

Ashley’s village is too fun.

We sat at the gele stop this morning, awaiting a gele from Bansang, when two men start yelling at each other [must mention that if they were in America, chances of them being in a nursing home are high]. They start shaking fists at each other and one man yells, “YOU LIKE TO FIGHT! YOU JUST LIKE TO FIGHT!” as he swings his fist at him. It was quite entertaining. The entire village comes running and Ashley & I are just sitting on the bantaba, gaping. Rubben Studdard showed up, trying to get in between the old geezers and instead falls on his rear. Then Ashley’s host brother shows up with a tray full of meat and what was in the middle? A dog paw. He decided to sell them while the fight was going on.

And yet, I find all of this to be completely normal.

Hellakunda & The Goat

I am still in Ashley’s village & loving it! We went to the Life Skills Center to brew/drink attaya and I also charged my cell phone. Pondo [short for Ponderosa Pine!![, Ashley’s puppy, came along with us. We were all sitting outside chatting when a baby goat wanders in. He looked like an oreo, which of course got me hungry. Pondo decided to make friends with the goat, so they are frolicking about the front yard and we are all watching and laughing, enjoying the not-so-hot afternoon. Suddenly, Momma Goat saunters in. She is a BIG lady. She doesn’t like Pondo chasing around Oreo so she comes up to Pondo and head-butts him, then runs off behind the Center. Pondo just looks around, obviously having no idea what had just happened to him.

“Hey Ash,” I say. “Let’s catch Oreo and teach Momma a lesson.”
BAD IDEA. I creep up behind Oreo [who is atop a pile of logs] and get him by the back hoof. He starts SCREECHING as I scoop him up under one arm. Ashley yells, “Look out behind you!” and I see Momma come tearing around the corner of the house. I start to run [which isn’t easy, as I am wearing a Bob Marley wrap skirt], start tripping all over the place, notice that the goat is about to kill me, drop Oreo, and hop on the porch. Ash is still standing in the yard as Momma Goat turns to Pondo and starts attacking him. I flip out, Ashley is screaming, Pondo is crying because he is trapped between the ground and Momma Goat’s horns, Oreo has no idea what’s going on, the Gambians on the porch are running towards us and suddenly Ashley sprints towards the goat and grabs her by the back leg, screaming, “YOU STOP KNOCKING MY DOG!” She LIFTS the goat off the ground by one leg, I grab Pondo, and she drags the goat out of the compound. I am not sure how good of a job I did detailing this, but I wish I had a camera rolling.

Needless to say, we taught Momma a lesson.

Trip Back from Kombo

To preface this, some pictures from the cliff in Kombo where I go running: Stunning, isn't it??





Oh, good Lord. Where do I start? Lizzy found out around 10am that she was going to have to stay on medhold, so I decided to hitch a ride with Peter back up river. We didn’t end up leaving Kombo until noon, and by this point, I was regretting going, as we were taking the south bank [I live on the north bank], we were stopping in Bansang [not really close to Kuraw], and I had nowhere to sleep. Then we reached Bumari, my training village.

I am leaning out of the back of the land cruiser, scanning both compounds my family lived in: empty. I hop to the other side of the vehicle to peer into the road that leads into Bumari, and I see my mama musoo walking. I yanked open the window and leaned over Amber and yelled to her. She came rushing up, grabbing my hand through the window, not even greeting me but almost scolding me, saying, “Where have you been? We MISS you!” And I start crying again, my heart completely swelled up with missing my old family, and suddenly I hear, “Saatu?” I whip my head around, and there is Ousman’s mom! I literally scream and crawl over James, grabbing ahold of her hand and at this point, tears are literally running down my face, I cannot speak in any Mandinka except to say, “I miss you so much, I love you very much, I really miss you” and she is saying it back, tears start forming in her eyes, and then Peter says, “KASEY WE MUST GO!” So I tell her I will see her soon, say goodbye to my mama musoo, and we drive off. I could not stop crying… I looked out the back of the vehicle and they were standing in the middle of the road waving at us.

“I’m so sorry, guys,” I choked out to James, Tavi, and Amber. “That was just… oh God… I’m so emotional.” And then I’m back to crying profusely.
“You know what? That was really neat to see,” Tavi said. And with that, I really lose it. I threw on my iPod headphones and cranked some tunes, trying to settle down.

I finally get my bearings together by the time we get to Soma. We decide to stop and get silafando for our families [a traveler’s gift]. I am standing by the land cruiser with my back to the road when I hear, “Saatu!” Mind you, I am never called Saatu in Kuraw, it is always Isatou or Isa. I whip around, and my host father from Bumari is on the other side of the road.

And the waterworks began again. ‘This is ridiculous,’ I kept thinking to myself, ‘Get yourself together!’ It was just so amazing to see them all. I felt so blessed.


So, we left Soma. The rest of the trip up country was pretty uneventful until we hit Bansang, which is very close to Marnie’s village [who was still in Kombo]. I find a gele that’s going to Basse and decide that since it’s already 6pm, it will be very dark by the time we get to Basse and I should just stay with Ashley in Helakunda. I spent 45 minutes sitting in the gele, eating pieces of pound cake and playing with the baby sitting next to me. I also admonished the 13 year old aparante for smoking cigarettes. He was not pleased with me, needless to say.

We begin our journey to Basse at a little after 7. It is starting to get dark. I am starting to panic, alone on a gele with dozens of men… but I arrive safely after breaking down twice. Thank goodness Ashley lives on the way to my home… just on the south bank :o]

[a baby fast asleep on a gele]

Stone Circles & Tears

Wow, I have already been at site for 2 months. That is astounding to me! I have been struggling trying to load my pictures on my blog, so I will try to describe my village, Kuraw. It is set back from the road; you enter it by way of a narrow, dusty path. The north bank of the Upper River Region is a region unlike any other in The Gambia. It is filled with miles and miles of African savannah… pale golden grass with the occasional large, very green tree. So you can see Kuraw from the road. It is a small village by The Gambia’s standards [about 39 compounds, approximately 550 people… make that 555 because of the 5 births that have happened since January!], but it is beautiful. I live on the edge of the village, directly across from a pump that overlooks the savannah, split only by the reddened road. It’s gorgeous. The mosque is only a few steps from my door, as well as the school for the women’s literacy program. On the winding path into Kuraw, there is a large school and immediately adjacent is the nursery school I am working on getting running. Honestly, I need to get pictures up, and stat!

Up behind the mosque there’s a small beaten down path amongst the tall grass that winds right to Kuraw’s stone circles. Again, I must get a picture :o]



I spent the other night in Lizzy’s village [truly my home away from home, her family is absolutely amazing] and had Modou pick me up on his motorbike the next morning. He took the back route [through the bush… what am I talking about, the entire URR is the bush] to Kuraw and stopped at several villages to check on projects he’s been working on. It was really fascinating to see… one Fula village was digging a new well, their goal was 43 meters… they had already reached 27 meters deep and had yet to strike water [just an example of how dry it is during the dry season!]. Crazy.

We rode through Kwonku and I was like, “Modou! My host sister is here!” A few weeks ago Manta’s mother came for a visit and brought Sene, my 2 year old babygirl, back to her village. I have been a bit lost without having her tied to my back, or banging on my door naked at 7am saying, “Isatoooooouuuuuuu!!” I immediately wanted to see her, so we hunted down Tourey Kunda and sure enough, there she was. One of the older girls carried her over to me and she reached her arms out for me and said, “Ma!” [what young children call their mothers… haha]. I literally started tearing up. Modou was standing awkwardly beside me, stammering out a, “Well, welll… shshshshshe recognized you INSTANTLY!”

I talked to her for a bit with her on my lap and then handed her back to her grandmother. We walked through the compound to Modou’s motorbike when I heard women laughing and speaking in rushed Mandinka. Modou burst out laughing, and I immediately said, “What! What are they saying?” He replied, “Sene is crying. She is saying she does not want you to go.”

Oh, for God’s sake, I started crying. Typical. The tears started streaming down my face in the middle of a country where you are not supposed to show emotion. There are 2 cats strapped to the back of Modou’s motorbike in this stupid basket thing and I’m trying to climb onto the back of it and I have snot running out of my nose and I can’t talk because I’m crying. Modou just stood there staring at me, a hot mess trying to get on a motorbike blubbering away, and he says, “Oh, oh oh Isa… Isa?” I’m like, “MODOU GET ON THE BIKE WE’RE GOING.” At this point, 2 of the girls were bringing Sene across the compound and I could see her crying and reaching her arms out for me… I just put my head down and cried into my chest. To make matters worse, I was sweating profusely and my hair was awry [again, typical]. GET ME OUT OF HERE, was all I thought.

So we drove off. I didn’t stop crying until we reached Kuraw, which is a good 45 minutes away. Talk about embarrassing. It’s the first good cry I’ve had since being here, and it had nothing to do with not being home, or missing my family. It had to do with a 2 year old who I have become incredibly attached to in under TWO MONTHS. I am doomed when I leave, doomed!


[Maiyo & my little babe, Senne]

The Kittens!

This just arrived from Kasey so am posting for all of you to enjoy.
Hi Mom! It's Lizzy Lizzy. This is from Kasey. Happy Birthday!!#



March 2nd, 2009


I am currently writing from a computer lab at a nursing school in Bansang. It's
9:00am and I can hear the sounds of the RCH clinic outside the door; screaming
babies, chattering mothers, and a chain being swung over the beam in the ceiling to
set up the scale to weigh the children. Liz and I arrived last night to stay in
Bantonto, Marnie's village, which is about 4km from Bansang. It was quite the trip
in yesterday [funny side note -- just logged into my Yahoo!email account and was
informed that it's 19 degrees at home. It's currently pushing 90 degrees here, and
only getting hotter. Surreal!]. I only have a quick minute to post this, and will be
in Kombo within a week where I will be able to write much, much more, but wanted to
let everyone know the following:

1. I am alive, and VERY well... although the other day, on a 9-hour trip to the
Married's site to get 2 kittens [due to an immense mouse problem in my hug], I
vomited out of a moving gele. Mid dry-heave I was propositioned for marriage by the
side of the car park... never have I looked better, obviously. Then Rachel drags me
onto the nicest gele I have ever seen [plush midnight-blue seats! dark silk window
curtains! a sunroof! SPEAKERS and a radio!] and I think, oh God, I'm going to vomit
all over the place. I am shoved into a seat next to a window. A beautiful Fula woman
sits beside me with her infant child. I begin sweating and shaking... the gele
starts to move, I get concerned because the woman in front of me has her arm hanging
out the window and I have no space to stick my head out. In one bold attempt I throw
open the window, stick my head out, start vomiting as all the school children
walking past scream "Toubab!" and immediately stop pointing
when they see what is happening. The baby next to me begins touching me in
inappropriate places and I can do nothing to stop it, as all I can concentrate on
is getting rid of whatever is in my stomach. The gele is moving so fast the vomit
ends up in my hair, and I am mortified. I finally pull my head back in, everyone in
the gele is asking me if I am feeling better, and the woman whose arm I pinched in
the window in front of me turns around and hands me a menthol coughdrop. I nearly
cry tears of happiness from the strangers around me.
2. I have been battling immense homesickness, but I am doing a lot better now. It
really is a rollercoaster ride.
3. Again, my hut has an insane amount of mice. I don't know what to do about it. The
kitties are smaller than the rats and spend their days sleeping, so they are of no
help. The most they do is have the runs on my bed, which I can't get mad at them
about, because my GI issues haven't exactly resolved, either.
4. My site is beautiful, breath-taking, amazing. There are unreal bush trails I can
go jogging on [where I constantly have Sting's "Fields of Gold" playing in my mind
as I pass through the wheat, unnoticed] & Amanda recently showed me how to get to a
cliff overlooking the river. The Gambia snakes its' way through villages, fields,
and trees... it was beautiful and serene. I will be going back soon.
5. I have fallen completely in love with my host family. I am not sure it's normal
to have such an attachment to them already, but I cannot imagine being without them.
They are all truly extraordinary. There is Maiyo, my 9 year old host sister, who
beats up any boy who says anything rude to me. She also knows when I need a hug or
to tell me she loves me. There is her sister, Manta, my age, who constantly thanks
me for the bra I gave her and will flash me any chance she gets. She washes that
thing every day. There is Sirra, Manta'sa 4 year old daughter, who is always by my
side wanting to help whatever I do. Senne, Manta's 2 year old daughter, is
constantly swaddled to my lower back, yelling "Ma! Ma!" while I pound rice with the
woman in the wooden mortars. Niara, the 15year old girl who is here to learn how to
cook, with her rockin' body and her soft, sad words when telling me about her
boyfriend who left to Kombo. Wuday, the amazing 16 year old girl
here to go to school, who is consistently helping me with my Mandinka and pushing
me to work harder. My host mother, Fatoumata, who brings me to every birth in the
village, whether it is 8am or 3am. Again, I am in love.

Okay, I think that's it for now. About a month ago I mailed home my flashdrive full
of pictures. I am hoping my mum will be able to post some and SOON :o] I miss
everyone terribly & hope all is well :o] Please send me emails, as I have a phone
now that allows me to check them. And thank you again for all the letters and
packages I have received, it makes the tough days seem a lot easier! I promise to
write more soon, I have a lot of stories in my head that need writing out. I just
want to say this, though... the difficulties of this have really hit me. And while I
definitely have my moments [aka crying into my bowl of oatmeal & syrup in my
backyard at 8am], I'm still here. I am STILL here, it's been almost 4 months, and
that astounds me. Also the fact that my family is coming in May is really helping!
:o]

** HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MUM! :o] I hope you don't have to work, and if you do, I hope it
goes by quickly... and that Nick takes you somewhere fabulous for dinner, YOUR
choice of course :o] I LOVE YOU!! **