Comfort food on the cob

As much as I've been enjoying the city life here in Dakar, a big part of me misses so many aspects of life in Karantaba. I was lucky enough to just have a taste of one of them: freshly grilled corn on the cob. In the village, when the corn on the farm was finally "coming to be ripe" (as we say in Gambian English) we would take some of the freshest ears and roast them right over a bed of fiery coals. It's not Jersey sweet corn or anything, but it's still delicious (especially when you have the satisfaction of being the one who grew the corn yourself).

This evening, I picked up a "sandwich foie" (grilled liver sandwhich -- I don't eat them often but was lazy tonight and they're tastier than they sound) and was walking home when I was surprised to see a woman and some kids roasting fresh corn (obviously imported from a nearby farm). An ear costs 100 CFA ("saifa"), about 25 cents. The two cobs she had on the charcoal grill we're already spoken for, so I asked her if she could send a kid to deliver one to my apartment when it was "ripe." It's not as common here for strangers to "small-boy" other people's children, but like anywhere in the world you can get what you want if you know how to schmooze ;~) I showed the boy, named Cherro Jallo, where my place is and he returned about 10 minutes later with some fresh corn on the cob, still warm.

Now that's comfort food!

And as I was just looking through some old pictures from The Gambia, I was inspired to tell you this little story and post a few photos from last year. Enjoy!

adam

Corn-shucking party. Besi xoli mboxa.

A few little girls roasting corn. Nyungee laka mboxa. You wouldn't see kids doing this in America, would you?

Corn nunchucks. You tie the big ones together so you can hang them up to dry.

Alieu at his mother's feet, playing with corn. Some kids make dolls out of them and braid the leaves. Especially when you get a red one (dereti xaaj; dog's blood) or one with purple kernels (njambouranka; not sure what that means, but Njambou is a girls' name).

Not a bad harvest. Yaa Haddy's house in the back covered in squash.

Dereti xaaj/dog's blood.

A few pix...

Been a while, hasn't it? Well of course I've been meaning to write for a long time, and I'm still planning on it. I've jotted down notes about my experience readjusting for a short time back home in the States, but I haven't taken the time to arrange or expound upon them. So for that, you'll have to wait a bit. (Sorry Mom.)

But in the meantime, here are a few photos. I haven't taken many at all in recent months, but I'll try to start.

I spent all day today (actually yesterday now since the power went out while I was writing this last night and couldn't post it till today) rearranging and cleaning my room at the new apartment in Dakar. Yes, I've been here for almost a month now, but I haven't spent enough time really setting things up. Now, however, it's beginning to look a lot better. Needless to say, this place is a lot different from Karantaba. I'm getting used to it, getting to know my neighbors and enjoying the amenities (I mean, I have my own bathroom with a shower!), but missing the village and the farm too. This time last year, I was farming everyday with the family. Getting out there in the morning, riding my bike home to take a bath and pick up the two big lunch basins, strapping them to my bike rack and riding back to bring lunch to everyone. Then chillin' out for a while on the farm, drinking some attaya and eating some dimba (bush mangoes) before getting back out there in the evening. That was a nice routine.

But things here are pretty cool too. More on that later. For now, here's my new pad...






Entering my room from the hallway.

The fan is imperative! It's not as hot as upcountry Gambia, but it's still really hot here. Uncomfortable to sleep without the fan on. Problem is, the power's been going out frequently. About once a day for at least a few hours lately. I've heard it'll be better once the rainy season is behind us.

A pretty comfy chair I snagged from the old PC Senegal doctor's house. It's PC property, so I had permission. My bed too which is very comfortable!


This was my big accomplishment today. Before I scrubbed it clean, I wasn't even sure this sink was supposed to be white!

This is as clean as the shower gets.


The new djembe I bought a few weeks ago! I wasn't actually planning on buying one that day I went downtown, but I stopped to check one out and this dude Badou really wanted to sell me one. I got a really good price too. It was literally all the cash I had on me, minus 150 CFA left to take the bus home! He was a nice guy but wasn't too happy about selling it for that price; his starting price was 55,000 and I got it for way less. He told me he wanted to give me a good price since I'm a Peace Corps Vol and that I can already drum pretty well, and that he knows I'll bring my friends to buy more. But he said "when you bring your friends don't tell them how much you paid; let me do my work." So if you come here looking for one, don't tell him what I just told you!

Comin' home...but not for too long

As my time here in The Gambia winds down, I've been contemplating my next steps in life. And while I'm really excited about coming home, serendipity is telling me that I might not be coming back for good right now. But don't worry, I'll at least be home for a month and a half starting in June.

In February, I went to the annual softball tournament in Dakar (WAIST - West African Invitational Softball Tournament), my first time traveling there even though I've been living a hop, skip, and a jump away for two years. Before I left, I had a feeling I'd enjoy it. I mean, it's known as the Paris of Africa (or West Africa, at least) and although I don't speak French, I can speak Wolof, so I'd been looking forward to it. When traveling in a foreign place, it makes a huge difference when you're able to speak the language. Personally, I enjoy it a lot more.

While I was there, getting around like a local, sitting and having long chats with local artists and other interesting folks, I thought to myself "man, I really dig this place." Now, prior to Dakar I came up with a decent plan of what to do when I go back to the States: go back to Jersey for a bit and spend time visiting people, volunteer at a yoga school for a few months, go to grad school. I'd learned about these foreign language grants that you can get from the federal government during grad school, and one of my ideas was to get a grant to study Wolof and come back to this part of the world (maybe Dakar) to do a project with adult literacy or promoting health through music with local musicians.

But as I was in the midst of explaining that to another volunteer from Senegal, a thought suddenly burst into my mind: why don't I just extend here for a year? Rather than go home feeling like I'd still want to come back here, why not just stick around for one more year -- with an urban placement -- and do some work I'm really interested in. Senegal would be different enough from The Gambia to keep me interested, but also similar enough (almost everyone speaks Wolof there) that I'd still feel at home and not like I'm starting from scratch.

So on a whim I went to meet with the PC/Senegal country director to see if extending was even possible. During our half-hour meeting, I mentioned that I was interested in working with local musicians to promote positive health messages. He was excited about my ideas, language skills, and the prospect of having an experienced volunteer come join his crew (there's a lot of turnover in PC with volunteers coming for only two years, so when one wants to stay for a third it can be a great boon to a country's program). Then he told me some volunteers have been working with radio stations and that I could probably have my own radio show if I want -- in Wolof! That really sparked my interest. I've never worked at a radio station before but I've always thought it'd be fun.

It's been a slow process, but now it sounds like everything will go through and that I'll be home for a bit but then spending the next year in Senegal. I'll be posted in Dakar (I requested an urban placement -- change of scenery, easier communication with all you lovely folks from home) working with radio stations and coordinating grants with radio stations around the country where other volunteers are working. Other benefits are that it's a really nice place to visit, so you should start planning your trip over there!

I'll be home right around June 1, inshaalah. And I'll probably be going to Dakar in mid-July (PC sends you home for a month if you extend, and I have unused vacation days that I can use in conjunction with that month of leave).

I'm going back to Karantaba tomorrow and might not be online again till the end of May when I come back to Kombo before I fly home. But start penciling me into your schedules for the month of June. And I'll see you soon.

Here are a handful of recent pix to keep you occupied until then.

Nuthin' but love,

adam

Eating some of the first mangos of the year. Tasty but dangerous; the early ones can really burn your lips. I don't know exactly why, the enzymes I think. The word "demba" means yesterday in Wolof, and it's also a name. But kids in school say it stands for "Don't Eat Mangos Before April."

I few people said I looked like a monkey the way I was sitting and eating my mango.

Lai eating 'smores last week when Sainabou (Sarah, a volunteer who lived at my site from '03-'05) came to visit. It was very cool meeting her and chatting all about our experiences here. She stayed for 3 or 4 days and brought 'smores ingredients as well as pure maple syrup from Vermont which we used to make mango pancakes!

Me and Usman (my friend Umi's son) on the banks of the river in Karantaba Tenda, about 1 km from my village.

Teaching Kebba Touray (aka "Old Man Africa" according to Fiona) how to play guitar. He's a real character, I'll have to write more about him sometime.


Me and Njagga, a friend of mine at the lumo (weekly market). I help him break down his setup from time to time. But mostly we just chat and teach each other things in Wolof/English. One of my favorite new phrases he taught me: "bul yooka xaar mi kawar." Don't add more hair to the goat. Basically it means leave well enough alone. For example, if you're arguing with a friend and you've each said your piece, but then your friend starts it all up again, you can say "bul yooka xaar mi kawar." "Enough already."

Greeting Fatou as she passes by Njagga's place.

Almost time to go...but not quite



I came down to Kombo last week for our group's Close of Service (COS) conference. It was exciting but exhausting, especially since I didn't get here until 10:30pm on Wed. night after a 15-hour travel day. Ugh. Here's the (shortened) story behind that:


I woke up at the crack of dawn last Wed. morning, and left Karantaba in a gelegele to Bushtown (about 30k from me, across the river from Bansang) since there weren't any direct geles down to Kombo. Crossed the river to Bansang and got in a gele to Barra (the ferry port town across the river from Banjul), after waiting about an hour for it to fill up with passengers while I ate an "omlette" (fried egg and onion) sandwich. Once the gele was full, we started heading west towards Janjanbure (the island in the middle of the country where you have to cross the river twice) but went about 10k and just picked up someone's sack of peanuts and turned around. Back to Bansang, because the Jjbre ferry was broken, so the driver said.


So we backtracked to Bansang and crossed the river again to Bushtown, to take the northbank road to Barra. (Take a look at a map of the Gambia if you're confused. ) After driving about 2km on the bumpy, unpaved road from Bushtown (which I had just traveled on from Karantaba), our driver hit a dip, there was a loud bang, and then he started to veer off the road! As soon as the care moved over to the left (where there's an incline which would cause an overloaded van to tip over) and the car began to lurch, everyone inside immediately realized what was going on and leaned over to the right. It's about the closest I've ever come to tipping over in a vehicle other than a sled. The driver stopped and we all hurriedly jumped out of the gele.


This was around 12pm. I'd already been traveling four hours and was less than 30k from home. And that loud bang we heard appeared to be the reason why the car wouldn't go any further. The driver and apparante began looking underneath the car and trying to fix it, but no luck so he called another driver to come pick us up. So we waited...and waited...on the side of the road for more than 3 hours for the other gele to show up. One guy from Karantaba who lives in Barcelona and was just visiting pointed out that human beings are very funny; 10 minutes ago we could've died, and now people are complaining that they're hungry. Humans are funny, indeed, I agreed. At one point I just laid down on a bench-seat inside the gele and waited, but was startled by a few people on a horsecart who accidentally rammed into the door of our parked vehicle. Perhaps today just isn't a lucky travel day, I thought.


By this time I was getting a little worried that I wouldn't be able to make it to the conference on time. A few other passengers walked or took a horsecart back to Bushtown to try to find another ride. One old Mandinka guy was reprimanding the driver and then stormed off, only to come back to everyone laughing at him when the second gele finally arrived.


Back on the road, on the north bank of the river to Barra, where we'd have to cross again to Banjul. As we were passing one village I was practically asleep but awoke to another loud smash, this time because the (second) driver hit a cow right in the head! He was probably going 40kmph at least. We looked back and saw the poor soul laying on the road behind us. The driver pulled over about a hundred yards ahead, as people from shops along the roadside came out to look. I thought he was going to pay the owner of the cow or that a big argument would ensue, but no. We drove off. I asked the guy next to me in Wolof whether the driver shouldn't pay the guy. He said nope, the drivers pay to travel on the road but shepards don't. Fii Africa la, he said. Here is Africa. Dega la, I replied. It's true.


Now we passed Farafenni and were actually making decent time on our way to Barra. But unfortunately it started getting dark, and coincidentally when the driver turned on the headlights it looked like he only had parking lights. You could barely see 10 meters in front of us! It took us almost 2 hours to go the last 50km of the trip, as the driver and those of us in front (I was sitting right behind him) strained our eyes to see the road and whoever might be crossing it.

We made it in time to catch what might have been the last ferry that evening. I said "bisimilai" (in the name of God) when I stepped onto it (as people here normally do while getting in a vehicle or embarking on a journey), just in case. It was that kind of day. The ferry ride which is about 45 mins was uneventful...until, that is, we got to the other side of the river (Banjul) and there was another ferry loading up at the dock. Our ferry got so close that it bumped into the side of the other ferry. It didn't seem like a big deal though, no alarms or anything. But as we were up against it, some people started hopping from our ferry to the other ferry to get onto the dock earlier. Crazy. But then we backed away, the other ferry left and ours docked. Another 10 minute gele ride and a 5 min taxi ride was all it took to get home from there. I was exhausted, but also thanking my lucky stars to have made it alive.


COS Conference


I got in late Wed. night and had to be up around 7am the next morning for the conference. We all went over to Safari Garden, a nice little hotel where we stayed for 3 days. The conference was definitely worthwhile. We covered a lot, from how to wrap things up here to how to talk to people back home about our experience here to a long group evaluation of Peace Corps and our work here. It was productive. We also presented our findings, which I believe were well received, to our country director and the assistant directors during a long discussion the last day.

As with many tranisitional periods in life, I'm sad about leaving but excited about the future. Who knows what's in store?


The fact that I just finished my COS conference means that it's almost time to come home! I'm excited about that, but I decided to extend till June (rather than leaving by our official date, April 15) for a few reasons. I'd like to spend more time with my family and folks in Karantaba and savor it before I leave. You know how I like to take my time with things. Plus I'm going to do a little more work with the Red Cross/Peer Health Group at the school, even though the teachers I've been trying to work with make it frustrating. And of course staying till June also means I'll be around for another mango season! Or part of it at least. Believe it or not, that weighed pretty heavily in the balance. Oh, this also means I'll get to take some unused vacation days perhaps to go to Guinea; if I didn't extend I wouldn't be able to use them b/c you can't travel within your last 3 months.

So anyway, I'll be home sometime between June and July, inshallah. I want to travel a bit on my way home too: a college friend in Madrid, an old MPP coworker who's now a PCV in Morocco, and these Dutch girls who I randomly met here and came to visit my village last July (I just got an amazing package from them and an invitation to stay in Amsterdam!). Feel free to meet me in Europe, or come visit here before I go! Seriously!


Visit http://courtinthegambia.blogspot.com/ to see a picture of all of us at the COS conference.

Got my language score the other day...

and I'm practically floating! I took the test on Monday for each of the 3 languages: Wolof, Mandinka, and Pulaar. And guess what? I scored SUPERIOR in Wolof!!! That's pretty much the highest score you can get, which indicates that you speak the language like a native speaker (or even better than some). I'm not sure I'm that good (I'm still learning new words or phrases just about everyday), but apparently Sarjo (our tester) thinks so. He said I do in fact speak better than some Wolofs. I haven't told too many people about it b/c I don't wanna brag but I'm pretty ecstatic. Learning a language and living in another culture were some of my primary reasons for joining the Peace Corps.

I also received a score of Intermediate-Mid in Mandinka, and Novice-Mid in Pulaar, which I really wasn't expecting. I just tested in those for the hell of it, knowing that I could speak at least a little and figuring even Novice-Low in either would be nice; you get official certificates for each. I suppose this means I'm officially multi-lingual;~) It's been a goal of mine for a long time, so I feel very satisfied. But I'm not stopping here!

I'm also happy about it because it'll look nice on the old resume, and especially if I want to apply for grants (like a FLAS grant) to learn other languages. I should be a good candidate for something like that. I'm definitely gonna look into it. We learned about it during the COS conference last week and it sounds like a pretty good deal...get paid to learn a language as part of a grad school program and possibly travel to the country and work on a project there. Could be a worthwhile thing to do in conjunction with a Social Work degree, no?

Gotta go. I'm going back to Karantaba for a few days and then to Dakar next weekend for WAIST (West African Invitational Softball Tournament, where PCVs, embassy folks, and others from the whole region go to play and enjoy). I'm psyched because I've never been to Dakar and I'm looking forward to using my rockin' Wolof skills ;~p and seeing some live Jazz and/or Ndaga/Mbalax music.

But first, here's a picture I don't think I've posted before, of me and a Kora player (I think his name is Basiru Jobate) jammin' on the bus sometime last year. There's a story behind every picture, of course, but no time to tell this one right now.

Jama to your mama;~)
adam

Hello out there?

Happy Thanksgiving folks!

I don't have a lot of time but I just wanted to wish you all well and post a few photos. It's been a long time, as usual, so I have a bunch of stories but you'll have to wait a while before they're all told. In the meantime at least, I'll share this:

Here's a little anecdote that'll prove how small the world really is. A few months ago I finished reading a hilarious book called The 13 and 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear, which my friend Connie sent me from Madrid, Spain. I'd never heard about it before but I really enjoyed it. Here in the Gambia, we have piles of second-hand clothing at markets called "fuga jaay" (pronounced fga jie, which basically means "shake n' sell" in Wollof) where you can get lots of t-shirts and stuff from America and other industrialized nations. I bet some of the clothes you've ever donated to Goodwill have ended up here. Perhaps I've bought some of them and now wear them on the farm. Anyway, last week I made my way up to the school in Karantaba, and believe it or not, a girl named Hulay was wearing the shirt you (hopefully) see below. Isn't that awesome?

Hope you all have a great day with your families or whoever you're with. I'm about to head out to a Thanksgiving dinner for PCVs which should be a lot of fun, with great food including cranberry sauce (yum!), but I'm looking forward to hopefully spending Thanksgiving back at home next year.

A few things I'm thankful for: you for reading my blog, cold water and ice cream, shade, music, family, friends, my health, free speech, humor, and peace. Not all people have the fortune to be able to sit and appreciate these things today, but I hope you're thankful for what you have.

Take care and enjoy,
adam

Me and the boys threshing peanuts from our farm. Nyungee bacha gerte...we're threshing groundnuts. It's fun but tough, as it really tears up your hands. You toss them around with hook-shaped sticks (which in this case Yusupha got from the bush and burnt before bending them) like little Japanese habachi chefs. Maybe that's where the term "bacha" comes from, ya think?

Me and Lai (not pictured) plucking sorrell (bissap in Wollof, wonjo in Mandinka) flowers from the seeds in order to make juice. Here's a photo of the flower below.

Hulay in her Captain Bluebear shirt.

Not much to say but here are a few pics...

(I tried posting this over a week ago but wasn't able to. Since then, I went back to village for a naming ceremony and a week of readjustment/farming, then came back down here to Kombo to participate in a male auction fundraiser --raising $ for nursing equipment-- and to do a photo shoot for the Peace Corps Guys calendar. Pictures of that to come. On my way back tomorrow morning...short stay in Kombo this time b/c I want to get back now that the rains have started. The 1st big rain hit last Wed. and it was awesome. Now it's time to plant! I'm gonna focus a lot of my time in the next few months on farming -- working with people to plant a locally robust type of rice and just to become more self-sufficient generally to combat the increase in food prices. And if nothing else, at least I'll get some exercise...and some dirt between my toes:)

I just got back from London...yes London! I never anticipated going there but my friend Rachel was going to visit her sister and, since we had the amazing offer of a free place to stay, Chris, Erin and I decided to tag along. It was a blast, too much to write about right now (it's almost 1am and I'm planning on going back to Karantaba in the morning). We did everything from going to parks and gardens in the marvelously cool weather to finding ourselves in the middle of a party on the subway (called "last round on the underground" because it was the night before they changed the law that allowed people to drink on public transportation). We even got to see the new Indiana Jones movie on the big screen. And of course we ate tons of amazing food...sushi, Indian, home-cooked, smoothies, and I had berries and yogurt just about every morning for (at least part of) my breakfast.

As much fun as I had, I'm still glad to be back in the Gambia, but the heat is ridiculous. Apparently the rains haven't started in full force yet so it's gonna be pretty awful when I get up there again, probably for the next two weeks or so.

Anyway, I want to get some sleep but I'll post a few pix before I go...mainly because my mom begged me to ;~) I miss you all and will try to write more soon. Wow, was my last post really in

March?!

Cheers,

adam

At Juicy Jones, in Barcelona...perhaps my favorite restaurant in the world. Our first real meal outside the Gambia. I stumbled upon this place my first time in Barcelona in 2006, and have eaten there I think 5 or 6 times now in the 5 days I've spent in that city. Chris, Erin, and Rachel said it was worth spending a day in Barcelona just to eat there (which is about all we had time for)!

Enthusiastically eating some amazing vegan Indian food at Juicy Jones. My mom always says I need to take more pictures of myself, so I made sure to on this trip ;~)

At Kew Gardens in London, enjoying the greenery.

The guys on Guy St. Chris, me, and Woijech (pronounced Voycheck), Rachel's brother-in-law from Poland.

Pictures and a quick update!!!

Once again, it's been too long since my last post. Hope you can forgive me. Life these days is as interesting as always. This past week since I've been down in Kombo, I've gone to Tendaba to help with training the new group of Health and Community Development volunteers (I can't believe I've been here for more than a year now, which makes me a veteran in some ways), participated in a phone call with a class of 1st-graders from my mom's school (which was wonderful!), and had a few meetings regarding our "health education through music/drama" project. I'm pretty exhausted from all the traveling, especially considering I was sick before I left (with what I think was dissentary...you don't even want to know), but I feel like I've been productive lately which is nice.

Rachel and I just got back from a big meeting with the director of the Health Education Unit of the Department of State for Health (essentially like meeting with a guy who works just under the US Surgeon General) about the band and our ideas. He was very nice and totally supportive of our project, so now we're "partnering" with a government agency, which gives more legitimacy and sustainability to what we're doing. (In case I haven't mentioned it before, the members of the band -- me, Rachel, Chris, and Ellie -- want to implement a big educational event in Bansang, to promote various health messages through music, drama, and art, involving local musicians and artists. We're hoping to find enough funding to bring the Peer Health Group from my school, with whom I've been working a lot lately rehearsing dramas and such, and the drama group from Ellie's village to Bansang for the festival.) We had another meeting with the Nova Scotia Gambia Association, the group that established Peer Health Groups around the country, and we're collaborating with them as well! We're aiming to hold the event in June, just as the rainy season kicks off, which will be a good time to focus on malaria prevention methods (insecticide treated bed nets, homemade mosquito repellent a.k.a. "neem cream") among other things. In addition to music and dramas about these health topics, we are also planning workshops and demonstrations to increase the breadth of our impact. It's exciting!

When I was sick last weekend (which was really rough) my host mom (the older woman in my compound) Yaa Haddy prayed over me and a band of cloth that I tied on my head to heal me. Although I may be skeptical about the efficacy of that kind of medicine, it was really sweet and I appreciated it tremendously. I'm feeling more and more a part of my compound, like people really think of me as one of the family.

Helping with training was terrific! I got to meet the new Vols for the first time (I skipped the initial welcoming of them -- typically older Vols meet the new ones at a bar called "the come in" on their 1st or 2nd night in country -- since it would've meant another trip to Kombo and I wanted to spend more time in Karantaba), and teach them how to make neem cream. Rachel and I sang our neem cream song (to the tune of Stir it Up) and everyone enjoyed it. They seem like a great group...enthusiastic, interesting, funny people!

I loved the phone call with students from my mom's school! It was part of Peace Corps Week, so the idea was for the students in Ms. I's 1st grade class to have a chance to ask me questions about the Gambia and Peace Corps. The kids asked great questions (from "Why is it important to prevent people from getting mosquito bites and how do you do that?" to "How do you cross the river?") and I had a lot of fun answering them. They even asked me to sing a song, which I did acapella (the school song that Chris wrote which contains English and Mandinka) and they even sang me a song about Dr. Suess! I was pretty verbose as usual, and time just flew by during the hour-long call, so a few students didn't get a chance to ask their questions. My mom just emailed them to me, so here they are...along with my answers.

From Maria: Do you have tools to fix your bike or your clothing? Yes, I have a pretty cool multi-tool and a patch kit that Peace Corps gave me to fix my bike. Luckily, I haven't had to use them too much ;~) I do have some needles and thread, which I've used to fix a few articles of clothing, but we also have many good tailors all around the country who can make and repair clothes of all kinds.

From Elena: What season is it now in The Gambia and what is the weather like? We're transitioning right now from the cold season (which isn't that cold, more like the "comfortable" season) to the hot and dry season. I've been dreading it for a while now. The Gambia is closer to the equator than New Jersey, so it stays hot here pretty much all year. But the cold season (from Nov. - Feb.) was fantastic! The sun was still a little too hot during the afternoon most days (probably around 80-90 degrees F), but some nights were really cold (or at least they felt really cold here, though it probably never got below 50 F!). We'd all sit around a small fire in the compound every night, although lately it's getting a lot warmer so the fire is less and less necessary. It's so dry right now! I've only seen the tiniest bit of rain since October...just once a few weeks ago, not even enough to make the ground wet. But I've heard that when these rains occur around Feb or March, they make the mangos sweeter :~) The hot season generally lasts from Feb to May/June, and it gets ridiculously hot! Too hot. (Dafa tanga jil! It's sooo hot!) Up to 120 degrees in the sun! You spend most of your days just sitting in the shade and sweating during the afternoon, and I sleep outside (on a bed under a mosquito net). The first rains will come, inshallah...godwilling, in late May/early June, and then it cools down and gets much wetter and greener. People start farming again once the rains start. The landscape changes tremendously during the rainy season (lush and green), which lasts until October. Then we'll be back to the cold season again...woohoo!

Thanks for asking such great questions, guys. Mom, please pass the message along to the whole class ;~) I'm looking forward to keeping in touch with them. Thanks to you too, Mom, and Ms. I for showing the kids a powerpoint presentation and checking out the Gambia on GoogleEarth before the call. It was a great experience!

As promised, here are a number of pix taken in the last few months. Captions will be below each photo. Enjoy!

Take care everyone. Love and miss ya,

adam

Learning how to make a fence out of coos stalks that we grew on the farm. I'm pretty good at it now.

More fencemaking.

The finished product.

Me in my hut after Kumba, my 16yo host sister, helped me clean it.

On my new mattress. Well, actually it's an old foam mattress on a new straw-filled rice sack mattress. Much better than before.

Nyungee lapa. We're beating coos...to get the grains out, which will then be pounded before cooking.

My toma (namesake), a chameleon. The kids in my compound call it my toma b/c of how slow I am. This one was on the eucalyptus tree in my backyard, and then it spent a week or so in the papaya tree in my bathroom area.

Here are some of my favorite pix ever! Of the boys from my compound when we went out to the farm to make music and sing. I have some great videos of this too!

Lai, Abdulai (aka Puff Daddy), and Tafa.

During the naming ceremony in my compound, late December, 2007, just after Tobaski. Here's baby Fatou and an elder from another village praying over her.

Dawda Jobe (aka Maam --grandpa-- Dawda or Pa Dawda) praying over baby Alieu.

A few nice sunset pix from behind our compound.

Tobaski prayers. People from 3 or 4 villages meet under this huge tree for prayers during Korite (the end of the month of Ramadan) and Tobaski (the big holiday which fell right around Christmas this year, when every compound kills a ram and everyone eats lots of meat).

Me in my Kaftan during Tobaski. Although many people are trying to convert me, I've only participated in the prayers for the cultural experience.

Clockwise from top: Abdulai (aka Puff Daddy), me, Lai, and Tafa on the farm.


Sitting on a donkey cart stacked with peanuts.