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.