Reflections on my service...

Now that I'm leaving Budapest and heading back to The Gambia, I thought it'd be a good time to reflect on the past 19 months I've had. As most of you know, the highs have been sky-high and the lows have been some of the lowest I've ever had. But throughout it all, I've had the most incredible support network [both in The Gambia and home], and I just want to THANK YOU all for being you. YOU are amazing. YOU have touched my life, and assisted my work here in more ways than you will ever know. YOU are in my heart, in every breath I take, in every thought I have.

I was visiting with one of my friends the other day... I always pass by her compound in the evening when I go for my daily walk into the bush behind Kuraw. She greets me with a smile, showing me her swollen thumb, expressing her concerns about getting better by the time the rains come so she can use her 'darbo' [hoe] to work her groundnut fields. I nod, amazed as always at the beautiful strength exhibited in each woman I have met here. I settle into her house as she starts calling the women in nearby compounds to come over and visit.

Before I know it, there are 7 women cracking peanuts in a 6x6 room and Sirra [my host sister] and I are squished into a small bench. The small tin of condensed milk [ley] and bag of sugar I have brought is excitedly passed around to Jansaba, who has collected the hot coals and starts heating the tiny blue kettle. They are all chattering happily and I am content.

Jansaba suddenly turns to peer at me...
"Isatou, you don't have a husband? What happened to Malik?" she asks me.
"He was never my husband..." I answer awkwardly. "I'm not ready, you know this! All the time you ask me this, Jansaba."
She giggles, then looks down to punch two small holes into the can of ley. "I miss my husband."
I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly. She was married? She looks so young!
"Where is he?" I ask. Sirra's head falls delicately into my lap and she starts to snore.
"Italy." She starts to clean the shot glasses used as drinking cups for attaya and ley. "He has been gone 6 years. Sometimes he calls."
"Why hasn't he sent for you?"
She shrugs her shoulders.
"But... you love him?" I ask, which may seem foolish, but a legitimate question in a land of arranged marriages.
"OH YES!" She exclaims, standing up. "I don't take boyfriend because of my love for him. Sometimes it seems so big I think it's not possible. Other days I think I cannot remember his face."

Is this what love is? I couldn't help wondering. So many people in this world are on the quest for TRUE LOVE, but is this an example of it? Waiting for a man who never gets in contact with you, who has probably married another woman who doesn't know you exist? And yet, clutching that one picture you have of that love at night while tears roll down your cheeks, only to awake before dawn to begin your relentless days of tirelessly taking care of his family?

Jansaba is a martyr of love, the epitome of a devoted woman. I pray that love will find her, that this isn't the case for her, that all she has ever wanted will return home to her... and to fill her open, awaiting, empty arms.

Budapest

This city is absolutely beautiful, and while it has been cold and rainy, Jessi and I have been having an incredible time! We've walked everywhere, from Gellert Hill to the Castle, all the way to the Jewish Synagogue and back to Matthias Church. We've gone to TWO MALLS [!!!!!!!!!] and had our pictures taken with a small Hungarian girl [still not sure why]. It's been a beautiful trip.

Tomorrow we leave for Slovakia and I cannot wait to see what it brings! :]

Headed to Kombo

Time to burn everything before the bush fires come...

I realize it's been an incredibly long time since I've written here, but I wanted to write a quick story about when I was traveling to Kombo.

As most of you know, it's pretty near impossible to get out of my village, unless I want to do one of two things: 1. bike 40km to Basse at 6/am to catch a car or 2. walk 4km at 5/am to catch a car out of Diabugu that goes to Basse and from there, 10 hours of travel time to Kombo. Neither of these are that appealing to me.

I lucked out when my good friend Ismala called me to tell me he was making an east-to-west trip from Wuli district to Kombo via north bank road... all I had to do was sit on the road around 7/am and he'd pick me up.

I walked to the road around 6:30... Kuraw is beautiful at that time of day, it's quiet and the women are all on their way to the garden, so I was able to greet them as they walked by.

Within a few minutes, I heard my name being called and turned around... 2 of my sisters were sprinting down the road from Kuraw to sit and wait with me.




They sat with me for 2 hours, waiting patiently for my car to arrive, chattering away about how they hoped I'd come back and that it wasn't time for me to go home to America yet. I [of course] became emotional, as my time is drawing near... I feel it every time I hug them, or snuggle them at night on the bantaba, or whenever Sirra offers to buy me a mintee from the bitik with her 50 bututs. It got me to thinking... how am I ever going to leave this place, knowing I'll never see these beautiful girls grow up?





...something I can't concentrate on at this time. I'll face it when December comes.

Pictures...

Bella boo.

buzzards.

Maiyo helping us cut up the snake meat over the pit latrine. sanitary, I know.

went on a hike with Bella boo, and came across this :o]

The snake meat. I am shuddering as I write this.

Pleasure & Pain

The past few days have been spent in Jessi's village, Sibanor. What a beautiful village it is! Besides being enormous, her family & friends are incredibly welcoming and not one person asked me to buy them something. Ha! That's huge!

We biked over to her friend's house the other day and became involved in a pretty intense conversation in Mandinka about sex. I realize that this may not be appropriate to write about in a blog, but between the two of us, we were pretty proud of ourselves. We first started talking about birth control and let her friend know of options she has, then we maneuvered into sexual intercourse and The Gambia. From what we could gather, it is all about the man, and nothing with the women. I realize that FGM is alive here and that could be a major stipulation, but Jessi and I tried talking to her, telling her to talk with her husband, encourage a more open relationship, and to not be afraid to tell him how she feels. She took everything we had to say more seriously than I thought she would, and we left with smiles on our faces.

Next day, we decided to henna our feet. I thought this would be great, I could go home with orange feet and cool designs, and Jessi could become a more 'Gambian woman.'

We arrived at 7pm. Oumi worked soooo hard on my feet, but the tape we had brought was useless and didn't stick that well. After she applied the henna, she stuck my foot in a plastic bag, duct taped it to my leg, then stuffed my foot into a knee-high sock. At this point, I had to pee pretty badly, but her house was full with 4 other women and 6 kids, plus Jessi & I. Finally I begged her to let me go to the bathroom, and she scolded me, saying I couldn't stand or my henna would be ruined.

Sure enough, her mother waltzes in with a tomato paste can.

I kind of stare at her, thinking I've got it all wrong. Nope. She wants me to hover over it and pee.

She ushers all the kids out and I am still sitting on the floor, wondering how I'm going to get my pants down, much less hover over a tin can and NOT get pee all over the floor. I somehow managed it. The women came back in laughing and Oumi's mum whisked the can away.

Then we ate coos and milk. And I got sick the next morning.

And we hobbled home on our feet... so this is what they now look like :

No, it's not gangrene. We are just clearly very much Toubabs still.

Back to Bumari

[Ash & I on the beach during our sector's one year anniversary in the Gambia]

I had the opportunity to go back to my training village today, and I took it. Brendan & I hopped in the Peace Corps car and I anxiously fidgeted the entire ride down. When we finally arrived, it was as if I had come home. I remember thinking to myself, When did this place become my home? And then I began debating my decision to go home for Christmas... which is really insane, if you think about it. But maybe in a good way? :o]

So we climb out of the car and walk into my old compound, which is right on the main road. My host father, Jatta, was laying on his prayer mat but immediately sat up when he saw me and started shouting, "Saatu! Saatu!" We then greeted each other, he complimented me on my Mandinka, then turns to Brendan and proceeds to say, "Seikou, when Saatu first got here, she was big and strong. Now, she is not...?" Then he turns to me, "Saatu, are they feeding you?" ...what a wonderful, wonderful man. He sent one of his oldest sons to buy gas so we could turn the generator on that night.

I ended up sleeping with Brendan in his compound. They made me this nice bed on the floor and while I was worried about mice, I slept like a rock. Before we crashed, Brendan wanted to take pictures of a controlled fire on the road into Bumari. We were out there watching this beautiful flame grow in the night, licking at the shadows of a baobob tree, looking as if it were reaching for the stars. I sat on a log and just watched the embers glow as the flames went out. It was beautiful. I had 3 children on either side of me, each just sitting, one holding my hand, the other 2 just talking quietly amongst themselves, and I observed the gray ash smoke against the blue of the night. And I felt renewed.

Days like these are blessings. I hope to never forget them, or the feeling I have in my heart right now.



[Jax dancing on the beach with cows in the background. Oh, Africa...]

Pictures

Dust Storm

I traveled into Basse the other day with a fellow PCV, Bjorn, as we were planning on taking a trip to Senegal with a few other volunteers. We headed into the main part of Basse to meet up with Tyler at the car park when he decided he wanted to go to the house to shower after traveling all day. He walked off down the crowded street of donkey carts, people, taxis, geles, and motorbikes. Within 3 minutes, Bjorn and I saw people sprinting in every direction with cardboard boxes, yelling about something, and watched as shop owners locked up their bitiks. We turned around simultaneously.

"What IS that?" I asked, peering down the street. My eyesight is notoriously terrible, but from the looks of it, we had a wall of sand headed our way.

Within seconds, Bjorn had turned his back to the storm quickly on top of us and I was crowded up in front of him. The wind seemed to be coming from all directions and I could not see ANYTHING. It was as if we were encased in sand and I had no idea what was happening.

Next thing I know, a truck had pulled up to us and Bjorn was pushing me into it. I was completely covered in sand... I had it in my eyes, ears, mouth, all over my body, some was sinking into my bag... it was absolutely insane. I loved it.

The Rain in Spain...

                             [Jessi & I at the dolphin show at the Madrid Zoo! FANTASTIC!]
     [Jessi, Whitney & I before going to see "Carmen: The Flamenco Ballet." It was amazing!]
 [Strange creatures in the square... these people are everywhere! The rabbit scared me. I had to walk very quickly away.]

...hasn't fallen at all!

This place is so strikingly beautiful. Everywhere we go, we see couples in love. It's so wonderful to witness! Except for the ones who decide to get a little frisky on the beach... notice bottom photo for an example of that. We have spent a lot of time walking, eating, sleeping, drinking delicious wine, walking some more, falling asleep on park benches, grass, cement blocks, the metro... oh wait, that's just me. I really think I have narcolepsy... must figure that out when I get back to The Gambia! 

INTERESTING THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED IN SPAIN:

1. Freaking out about seeing McDonald's then promptly having a photo shoot at 5am. Tammy & I both nearly teared up over our meals. Then I immediately had diarrhea. Standard.
2. Stepping onto the Metro and greeting everyone with a big "Salaam maaleekum." It was very embarrassing.
3. Speaking Mandinka and not Spanish. It happens ALL THE TIME!
4. Going to the zoo with Jessi and watching her ask the man, "If we rent a buggy, do we have to be disabled?" After having rented the buggy, she attempted driving it down a wheelchair ramp and broke the fence on top of getting stuck. A nice Spanish dad helped us push it back up the hill and his daughter sobbed the entire time.
5. Watching the people be painted with silver and gold paint and then taking pictures of them as they pretend to be statues.
6. Getting free shots everywhere! What is the sense in that?! Do people know we are poor? We sure aren't attractive OR clean! OR healthy, for that matter.

[the south of France... yes, I went there! For free! I'm so lucky!]
[beautiful San Sebastian... again, I could live here]
[ a couple getting it on on the beach!!!! yikesers.]

Time To Catch Up...

[first stop in Spain? MCDONALD'S! Tammy & I had an entire photo shoot at 5:00am. It was fantastical.]

It has been much too long since I have sat down and written a decent blog post... so I will begin with our trip to Dakar. As my family so conveniently realized after they landed in Senegal, Air Senegal was bankrupt and there were no flights into Banjul. The crew decided to leave at 5:30am to make sure we made it on the first ferry and into Dakar. We flew out of Senegal at 10:20pm, so we were giving ourselves quite a bit of leeway.

Everything went perfectly, including the horse cart all 7 of us took across the border. We were piled on the wooden crate [literally, that's what it looked like] with an enormous mountain of luggage. I felt really bad for the horse.

I slept in the car into Senegal with my head nearly out the window. When we finally got to Dakar around 5:00pm, I used the bathroom and my entire face was gray thanks to the filth that is pollution/exhaust/dirt. I looked like Bert from Mary Poppins.





Anyway. We get on the plane, all of us are ecstatic, including Tammy who was vomiting yellow froth in the bathroom thanks to the Doxy [it's okay, she ate 2 airplane meals later on, including my turkey]. Never have I been so happy to be on a plane, even though our meal was cous and turkey... of course I devoured the cous and wouldn't touch the turkey. I had some leftover water in my cup so I decided to wash my white headband in it... not thinking anything strange of it until Jessi starts elbowing me and Tammy starts laughing hysterically. But it worked! It was clean!

We arrive in Spain and our first stop is McDonald's, of course. Hotcakes? I THINK SO! Absolutely delicious, even though they don't have syrup here. I was absolutely okay with it.

[Jessi & I after our new haircuts in Madrid! The woman worked miracles!]

Family Was Here!

I just spent the last 2 and a half weeks with my incredible family. I am awaiting Marsey Jo's email from the book/journal she kept while they were here. It was pretty amazing to have them experience The Gambia with me. I wanted to post a few pictures while I had the chance... I am currently sitting in the Dakar airport with 6 other amazing PCV's. We are on our way to Spain! Where I will be clean [let's hope], slow down the diarrhea [probably will get worse... what up Mickey Dee's], and attempt to dress pretty [again, not going to happen]. ALSO, our hostel has wireless, so I will be able to write more about what it was like to have my family here.

Now, the girls want to check their email/facebook. It's amazing how fast wireless is here! I am in awe.

[and as far as the sleeping-on-the-boat picture goes, I don't sleep a lot here, but yet narcolepsy hits me at the most random places. Nice.]

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!! **