This New American Life

It's not often you spend exactly one year in a place, but that's what I've just returned from: exactly one year in Dakar, Senegal, from July 14, 2009, to July 14, 2010. It was an incredible experience as you might imagine, and a great transitional year as well. I think coming back home directly from the village life would have been a much more jolting adjustment had I not spent this past year in Dakar, the capital city of Senegal. This also marks the end of my nearly 3 and 1/2 years of Peace Corps service. Yeah, I'm as shocked by that as you are. But what an amazing ride!

Your first question, if you haven't spoken to me recently, is probably "So what are you going to do now?" Well I have a simple answer for you: law school! It's not going to be an easy road, I'm sure, but I think it's a good decision, especially considering they offered me a full scholarship! I applied this past year and things just seemed to fall into place. Even though it will be tough and grueling, I think it's easier than not having any plan at all (some of the other returning PCVs I know who were going home with no plan seemed a lot more freaked out than I was) and I'm expecting it to be a stimulating experience.

I've already begun reading my assignments and can't wait to start discussing them in class. I'm moving to Brooklyn on Thursday and start class on Monday! It's pretty wild, considering tomorrow will mark 4 weeks since I've come back!

There's obviously so much to write about, but I only have so much time left so I'll just write what I can for now.

The Big Questions

Life can be distilled into which question you regularly have to answer. What do you wanna be when you grow up? What college do you want to go to? What's your major? What are you going to do after college? What do you do in Peace Corps anyway? What are you going to do when you go home? How does it feel to be back? Are you feeling ready for law school?

At various points in my life, I've been asked these questions with great redundancy. Obviously, one I've heard most recently is "So what did you do over there anyway?" My new answer is "How much time do you have?" because I've found that most people don't really want to hear the full answer. If you do, though, I'm more than happy to talk about it.

Another big question is "How are you doing with the readjustment?" Well, I think I'm handling it rather well. I'm still not used to everything, but I've done everything I could to jump into readjustment and go with the flow. I felt like I didn't have much choice, since I was starting law school, a very serious gig, a month after "reentry." Like I said, I think that's been a good thing.

My first day back, I started cleaning out the relics in my room at my dad's house (yes, I'm very thankful to still have a place to call home) that have been there for over 10 years. Each time I've been home in that time, my dad has implored me to clean out the room. I've often tried, but have found it difficult to get rid of things. This time, I felt like it was really time to start anew. Two days later, I spent about 4 hours at Bed Bath & Beyond buying all of the things I didn't even know I needed for my new apartment. The day after that, I got a new cell phone with a touch screen. A touch screen! The future is now! Keep in mind the iPhone didn't exist when I first left for Gambia. For many people, that was eons ago, but for me touch screen phones are still a novelty. (For the past 3+ years I've been using the same little Nokia with a green screen and black writing. But hey, it lasted forever and even had the snake game on it.)

All throughout this stage of re-acclimating to American life, I've been reflecting on my time abroad. Ultimately, I feel it was invaluable in giving me perspective on life that I didn't have before and most people never do. I continuously try to reconcile my resistance to abundance and what I often see as gluttony with my desire to not remain an outcast and a naysayer. Life is about balance, after all. So I've conceded, and will go with a touch screen phone and the mid-range fluffy towels to make myself a little more comfortable. Of course, I still think about my family in the Gambia all the time, but I think they would want me to be comfortable, enjoy my life, and I'm sure they would do the same in my position. In fact, they had a pretty hard time wrapping their heads around why I'd want to leave all of this to live in their village in the first place.

But I still feel like I haven't had enough time to completely readjust, and realize that it's a process that I'll have to continue to go through as I embark on this next journey in life. I try to take the time to stop and enjoy a particularly nuanced part of living in America -- fluffier q-tips, lightning fast internet, unimaginable infrastructure (underpasses, overpasses, and tunnels, oh my), clean streets, lush lawns and oak trees, any kind of food or music that I could possibly think of at my fingertips, the fact that I have only seen 2 or 3 bugs in the month since I've been back and neither of them was a mosquito, that I'm almost constantly comfortable regardless of what it's like outside, and the list goes on. It's difficult to continue to appreciate all of these things amidst thinking about law school, having to pay bills, and learning how to use my phone, but I manage.

Guilt

I'm feeling less of it now than the first mind-bending time I came home from Africa (when within days I went from riding in crowded overheated public transport on bumpy washboard roads to riding to my friend's wedding in a stretch-Hummer drinking champagne). I still can't get my mind around why or how the world is the way it is. How people here can have so much while people there can have so little. Yet I remind myself, as I said, that most people there would do the same if they were here. We're all just trying to get by, provide for our families, and do what makes us happy. Well most of us anyway.

The Future Is Now

So now I find myself in Brooklyn, a few days after I started writing this entry, in a gorgeous studio apartment on the 14th floor with a bay window that looks out at the Verrazano Bridge and a body of water who's name I'm not sure of yet. I have a touch screen phone, a laptop with wireless internet, and a printer. But there are still moments when I realize I just came out of a time warp. One was just last week, when on the way back from a Broadway show with my mom and grandmother, I had my friend Mitch on the phone. As we were about to enter the Lincoln Tunnel, I said "Hey man I might lose you, we're about to enter the tunnel." He responded, "uh, yeah we fixed that problem years ago."

I'm getting settled into this new American life. I've hung a few beautifully framed photos of the Gambia, a pair of wood-carved masks, and some other Africana. I just got off the phone with Yusupha Jobe, my old host in the village, since I wanted to speak to him and the family before school starts. I had been meaning to call him for quite some time. He was fishing down by the river, and fasting since it's Ramadan. I teased him, saying "I hope you're not stealing sips of water from the river!" He said his friend, Kebba Mbaay (the nurse I used to work with) saw me on TV when they broadcasted the Xeex Sibbiru (Fight Malaria) Song Contest I was involved in this past June.

We both said that we missed each other and asked about our families. Nyep ang ci jama, we both answered. They're all in peace. He asked me, Ana Amerik mbaa neex na? How's America, I hope it's nice. Neex na kaay, I replied.

Yup, it's damn nice.

Happy Besi Ndey! (Mother's Day!)

I promised my mom that as a Mother's Day gift I'd write a blog entry about her visit here last month. Well, that was a few weeks ago, but today is Mother's Day here in Senegal, so I figure this counts for something. Right, Mom?

First, let me say thank you so much to my mom (and Wayne) for making the trip out here to visit me!!! It means more than I can express, and I know that not only did we have a great time and meaningful experiences while you were here, but that almost more importantly, now we'll have so much more to relate to each other about when I'm back home. I didn't realize it during the first chunk of my time in Peace Corps, but having someone from home come to visit makes a huge difference in being able to relate the experience to people back home when you leave. Now anytime I'm reminiscing and mention people from the village or aspects of life there, at least you guys will really know what I'm talking about! So again, many many thanks making the huge leap out of your comfort zones to make this chapter of my life even more meaningful for me. (Dad, of course it would've been great to have you visit, but don't feel bad about not making it out here. You've already done so much for me in life.)

As with everything, there's so much to write about. When my mom and step-dad (Wayne) came to visit during the first week of April, a multitude of experiences were had, things discussed, and emotions felt. What I'm going to write about today, however, so that I'll at least publish something, is a story that stands out in my mind from their time here: our 3-day trip to my old village of Karantaba Wolof in the Gambia.

When my mom first decided to come and visit me in Dakar, I was honestly surprised and almost didn't even believe it. I mean, I've been living in West Africa for over 3 years now, and until they came last month I hadn't had any visitors from home. When I told my mom about this over a skype call around February, and explained that I was one of the only Volunteers I knew who hadn't had any visitors, she decided right then and there that she had to come. I guess the guilt trip, though not consciously intentional, had an impact.

At first, when I realized they were actually coming, I was excited to show them around Dakar, introduce them to the girl I've been seeing and her family, and give them a taste of what my life has been like for the past 3 years. But after some contemplation, I understood that staying in and around Dakar (we also planned on going a few hours away to Thies where I was going to lead an emotional health and yoga session for the new Trainees at the PC training center) would only give them a taste of what my life has been like for the past year. I spent the first two years in a tiny village in the Gambia, after all, which was a tremendously different experience than living in Dakar. Yes, I still speak Wolof here almost everyday, and it's still hot and dusty, it doesn't compare at all to life in Karantaba with Jobe Kunda (the Jobe family). If life in Dakar is somewhere in between life in the States and the village, it's much closer to life in the States.

I also learned of Njambou's wedding in my old compound, which was going to fall the very week that my mom and Wayne were going to be here. Njambou, one of my host-sisters of about 22 years, was finally getting married to Amadou Jallow, the man she'd been engaged to for a few years (at least since before I first arrived in the village). I started thinking that it would be crazy not to bring them to Karantaba if they were already going to be so close. We'd never have another opportunity like this. And what would my old host-family think if my "parents" came to visit me in Dakar and I didn't bring them to Karantaba, when they'd asked me "Are you going to bring your family to visit us here?" countless times throughout my two plus years there?

A week or so before my mom and Wayne arrived, I started looking for a taxi driver who could take us to Karantaba, since I didn't want to subject my mom to a full day's travel squished in a little station wagon and the number of other cars and vans we'd have to take to get all the way to the village. They didn't really have the time, anyway, because their visit was only going to be for 8 days. A Volunteer friend, Claire, recommended a guy named Abdoulai Gaye, so I gave him a call. He sounded nice enough and had an even nicer cab with air-conditioning, a CD player, and seat-belts. He came to my apartment one evening to discuss the trip and the price. I invited him inside and offered him some juice to drink, which he first declined but then enjoyed. I used Google Maps on my laptop to show him exactly where Karantaba is and how far, and explained the route we'd have to take, through Kaolack (in Senegal) to Farafenni (Gambia) and then east to Karantaba. I also warned him that the last 20 kilometers or so were pretty rough, on red dirt laterite road. But he agreed to make the journey and stay with us for two nights in the village.

My mom and Wayne arrived in Senegal and had a few short days to adjust to the climate and culture. (I'll write more about those first few days another time.) Then on Tuesday morning, we set out for Karantaba. My mom had gotten sick in the middle of the night, unbeknown to me until they showed up in the morning, so I was really proud of her and grateful that she still decided to go (thanks, Wayne, for encouraging her!). April is almost the peak of the hot/dry season upcountry, so it was amazing to me that my mom, who's not much of a traveler and never even been to Europe, made the trip here to visit me in the first place, let alone go out to the village.

So we set out from Dakar on Tuesday, Abdoulai Gaye driving, me sitting shotgun, and mom and Wayne in the back. Takes us about 40 mins to get out of Dakar, and our first pit stop is a gas station where we used a pretty nasty bathroom (though much cleaner than some others I’ve seen) with a ceramic squat toilet (I heard one guy in the Gambia call them squatty potties). I think it was my mom’s first time ever using one!

Abdoulai Gaye was a careful driver and a very inquisitive guy. When the rest of us weren’t sleeping, he was asking all kinds of questions about America (what it’s like where we live, why don’t men have multiple wives, what kind of work do my parents do, etc.) and my mom and Wayne were answering and asking some of their own with me as an interpreter. I enjoyed playing that role. Indeed, that was one of the aspects of having guests from home that I was looking forward to. Abdoulai was also very concerned about my mom and Wayne throughout the whole trip, asking if they needed a rest, food, whatever. He was really considerate.

The part of this trip that was so surprising to me was that Abdoulai was almost as shocked to find himself in Karantaba as my mom was! I figured that, you know, he’s from Senegal so he wouldn’t have a problem spending two days in the village. But while we were on our way there, we stopped in Farafenni for lunch after crossing the border into Gambia and dealing with some friendly but annoying immigration officers. More on that another time, but my favorite memory of that ordeal was while we were standing at the counter of the dusty, bar-windowed immigration post answering questions that were basically designed for the officers to practice their English (at which point I realized that I speak another language in addition to Wolof and English: Gambian English! my mom and Wayne could barely understand them) one tall, thin guy in an officer’s uniform walks up to Wayne and asks him to help him tie his tie! Wayne says, “Sure, why don’t you let me tie it on myself first, then slip it off and you can just slip it on and off whenever you want.” The guy was very thankful, even shy about it. It was hilarious!

So anyway, we’d stopped for lunch in Farafenni around 2pm, and it was hot! I mean, I’ve lived here for 3+ years now, so my mom could better describe the heat, but I’m telling you it was damn hot. Abdoulai and I were the only ones that were hungry, so we each got an order of “mafé” (rice with peanut sauce and meat) and as we’re eating, Aboulai turns to me and asks “Do they have ‘currant’ (electricity) in Karantaba?” I just laughed and said “No way, I told you this is a village out in the middle of nowhere.” He just shook his head, and you could see on his face that he was thinking “Man, what have I gotten myself into?”

We leave Farafenni and of course there are police/immigration stops every 15km or so, at which an officer (sometimes in plain clothes) invariably tells the driver that we need to pay 1,000 CFA or 50 dalasis (about 2 dollars) because we have a foreign vehicle. Well, the folks at the border didn’t tell us this and we had already paid for our visas and for the car’s papers (maybe 50 bucks in all) so needless to say I wasn’t happy about it, especially when the officers wouldn’t even greet me or my parents and just talked to the driver (a very rude thing to do in Gambian culture). After the first two stops, I started getting out of the cab when they told Abdoulai to come with them, so I could talk to them. One guy unhappily accepted 700 CFA at one, but in general these guys were all dicks. It was taking a lot of time out of our trip, and I was getting pissed off since we weren’t going to have much time to spend with people in Karantaba. At one of the last stops in Waasu, the customs guy asked us to open the trunk, so I got out and started berating him in Wolof (still with a forced smile on my face), saying “I was a Peace Corps Volunteer here for more than two years and I’m bringing my parents back here to go to a wedding in my compound and we’ve been stopped 6 times now and none of you guys have even greeted them! Is that good? Are we in Gambia or not?” He immediately apologized, laughing, and said it’s fine, close the trunk, and went to the window to greet my parents. Sometimes it helps to get a little pissed.

Finally, we make it to Lamin Koto, the small town on the north side of Janjanbureh (the island in the middle of the river, also called Georgetown or McCarthy), which is where the red dirt road begins: the final stretch to Karantaba. “Almost there, guys,” I said. Little did I know that the taxi would have such a hard time with the bumpiness of the rock-inlaid laterite road, and that Abdoulai Gaye would drive no more than 20 miles per hour, slowing down to a crawl at every extra bumpy patch. The last 25 kilometers of the trip (I was 5 km short in my estimation, so sue me) took us about two hours to traverse! Abdoulai wasn’t happy at all. In fact, he was exhausted from the 9 hours of driving he’d already done, and now it turned out that the road was worse than he expected. Ultimately, he really didn’t know what he was getting himself into from the beginning. “Yangee ma yobul fu sori, Adam.” You’re taking me to a far away place! I was like “yeah, yeah, I’m sorry” at first, or I said “come on, it’s not that far, this is what I told you” but after a while I just ignored him b/c I didn’t want to get into a discussion over the price. (We ended up giving him a nice tip when we got back to Dakar. He was a great driver all in all.)

We finally arrived in Karantaba after 6pm, a little before sundown, and actually passed the last police stop which is right in the village b/c I figured since I lived there it wouldn’t be a problem. But of course, there were new officers there that I didn’t know and one guy walked over to the compound after we pulled up all upset that we didn’t stop. I apologized and then Yusupha (my old “host-father”) went with Abdoulai to take care of things after a warm greeting. When we pulled up (the driver hugged each of us when we got out of the car, I think because it was one of his more strenuous journeys), it seemed that half the village was in and about our compound. About 15 women were just outside the gate of the compound, pounding lots of grain for the wedding that was to be over the next few days. And all the kids! I remembered almost everyone’s names, and started greeting folks and trying to introduce them to mom and Wayne, an overwhelming task. My mom started crying at one point, I thought at first because she just going through culture shock of being in such a different place, but she later explained it was because of how she saw everyone greeting me with such warmth. She’s been working on an essay about her trip since she returned home, and after reading part of it I told her that through her eyes (or words) I’ve realized that I am the kind of Volunteer I wanted to be: the kind of guy that knows everyone in the village, is well-integrated, well-liked and gets along with just about everyone. It’s funny how you don’t always notice things about yourself until you see them through someone else’s perspective.

After long greetings with the 50 or so people in the compound (there were lots of guests for the wedding), we entered my old hut to take baths and await our dinner. Wayne and I moved the bed outside and tied up the mosquito net I brought with me, since it was too hot to sleep inside. (I set up a small mattress on the ground and mosquito net outside for myself.) After we had all set up, the family brought our dinner, chere ak basse (coos and peanut sauce, a classic). It’s a dish I generally liked but this particular one wasn’t very appetizing. (The next evening's coos was much better.) My mom didn’t touch it because she still wasn’t feeling well from the illness of the night before, so Wayne, Abdoulai Gaye and I shared the bowl. None of us ate much.

As we were sitting outside around the bowl, in the dark by candlelight, I asked how everyone was holding up. My mom admitted that this was even more difficult than she was expecting, the heat, the dirt, and that she had already prepared herself for it to be pretty bad. She started asking about options for us to leave the next evening rather than stay two nights, which I really didn’t want to do but conceded to since I could see how rough the experience was for her. Thankfully Wayne said “let’s just sleep on it and see how we feel in the morning” because they did end up sleeping very well outside under the stars and the large eucalyptus trees in my backyard. (I was up early the next morning and heard at least one of them snoring.)

In the midst of this conversation, I was already feeling bad enough for subjecting my mom and Wayne (although he was holding up rather well without much complaint) to this rough journey, and Abdoulai starts asking me “Why would you come here, to a place like this? Why would you want to spend two years here? And why on earth would you want to bring your mother here?” I could see that he was almost as shocked as my mom by the difficulties of life in the bush. This surprised me, because he’s Senegalese so I figured he’d be better prepared for it, but he's from a large town near Dakar that's still close to the coast. Well, I started to answer his questions, all the while translating for my parents, but then said “look, you’re asking very important questions and I want to answer you but I’m exhausted right now, so let’s leave it till tomorrow.” I was also thinking about how I wanted to spend what precious little time we had with my host family that I lived with for two years, not this dude I’d already spent 11 hours in the car with that day. (I eventually realized that part of what I’d visualized for our trip – my translating questions about culture between my mom and host family, Yaa Haddy, Yusupha and others – actually did take place with Abdoulai. I’m not sure if that was more because of the amount of time we spent with him or what, but at least we got to do that with someone. It worked out really well having him as a driver. We could’ve had a real jerk who didn’t even want to talk. Instead we had this guy with his endless questions.)

He even asked to sleep outside with us, but I had Yusupha set him up in another compound. They took good care of him, and after a long next day that included our visit to the school (out of session), the lumo, and the drumming and dancing in our compound (pre-wedding), my mom (and Abdoulai) were already getting a little more used to the lifestyle (and especially the people) in Karantaba.

The next morning, we unfortunately had to leave, and after some painful, heartfelt goodbyes we embarked on our long journey “home.” After about 5 minutes in the car, all saying how great an experience it was, the car was silent as we all reminisced about the time in the village and how wonderful the people are there. I turned to Abdoulai Gaye, as the car rumbled along the rocky laterite road. “You know how you asked the other night why I stayed here, and why I wanted to bring my mother here? Now do you see why?” He had seen how the entire village greeted me, how even the people at the lumo from other villages and towns were so friendly, how I joked around with people all the time. He had, in such a short time, become friends with Yusupha’s nephew, who took care of him in his compound. He had been telling me “Nyi nyu baax nen” These people are good people. He looked over at me with a serious expression and nodded, “Waaw. Now I understand.”

Corn 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.

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,adamEating 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 15yo 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.

This update is from Adam's mom who talked with him on Mon., Jan. 21st. Here’s a short summary of the conversation:

Adam sounded happy and was enjoying hanging out with his PC band friends. He was suffering from a sore throat (hopefully nothing more than the start of an upper respiratory infection which he said is common during the dry season). Adam biked 75 km to a fellow PC Volunteer’s village where they performed with the band for the past 3 days. The new music was shared in different venues, informally around campfires and more formally with several school classes. The acoustics are difficult when performing outside. Adam and the others are thoroughly enjoying the experience.Things are progressing well with his health group at his village school. There is a new teacher who is coordinating the club with him. She has a great attitude and runs meetings when Adam can’t be there. They have lots of ideas including fundraisers, poster contests, etc… The weather is growing warmer and dryer. They haven’t had any rain since October. Adam is dreading the hot season but commented that most of the local people prefer the hot season to the cold season…hard for me to believe!He’s been somewhat in touch with US politics via the BBC, though I guess that could offer an interesting perspective. We didn’t have time to talk in depth about the primaries. Adam and his friend, Chris, made a cool music video on a hilltop with beautiful palm trees in the background. Chris performed an original song while Adam filmed with his digital camera. I’m hoping he finds a way to upload it online.

This post is from Adam's mom who spoke with him on Dec. 30, 2007.I caught Adam just as he was strolling back from the beach where he said the water was perfect and the temperature in the high 70's.Adam’s band is making great progress and has been invited to perform for a school group in mid-January and the new volunteer arrivals in February. He sang a bit of one of his songs which he and the band are busy rehearsing and working on harmonies. Over the Thanksgiving holiday Adam was able to purchase a used guitar for about $20-25 dollars from a man named Tim whose family had been living in The Gambia and recently returned to the states, leaving behind several instruments. This has been a great addition for the band.For the new group of volunteers, Adam and the band have been asked to demonstrate how they've used their creativity in their work. Adam has also been asked to do some demonstrations of the use of the stove and the making of the mosquito repellant. It's hard to believe that he's been in Africa for nearly a year now.If anyone wants to send a care package he can always use the following items: beef jerky, Cliff bars, mixed nuts (but no peanuts or cashews which are plentiful there), fruit leather, etc...Adam is planning on celebrating the new year on the beach with friends with a bonfire as a substitute for the ball dropping in Times Square – sounds pretty great to me.

This message is from Adam's Mom

I finally got to talk to Adam Thanksgiving weekend!!! He sounds great and happy. Here's a summary of the latest happenings in his life...

* He's been playing music with his PC friends at the PC Stodge. Adam, his new friend Chris and a few other vols have a great new idea that's turning into a cool project. They are planning for a band type festival focused around various health topics. There will be booths set up on different issues and live music of which they are in the creation stage. Some of the material has original tunes and lyrics and other is set to some well-known songs. For example, one song about how to make mosquito repellant from a particular plant is set to the Bob Marley song, Stir it Up! Other songs are about the importance of exclusive breastfeeding for 6 months, education, and safe sex. They are writing mostly in English and then translating into 3 African languages: Pulaar, Wolloff. and Mandika. The project has gotten full administrative support and approval.

* Adam expressed the challenge he's had with constant cultural readjustment. His trip home, while wonderful, knocked a hole in his routine as he worked to become re-acclimated to the pace of life in his village. Things are good with his host family and their relationship is solid. He's a bit curious about why none of them seem to have used any of the gifts he brought back from the USA. Any ideas why?

* If anyone want to send Adam a care package he could use some beef jerky (I still can't believe he's eating that stuff!), Cliff bars, and an acidophilus supplement.

* Josh is looking into the laptop program where you buy one and a 2nd one is sent to a developing country (not necessarily Africa). Adam seems very interested in this. So, let Josh know if you're interested in contributing.

*Adam shared lots of drama happening in his village's school. There are accusations that the principal is embezzling money and authorizing beatings of kids. He recounted one conflict that arose over a certificate a teacher received for going to a workshop. Apparently certificates are very popular items there and the principal insisted on keeping the certificate since, according to him, the teacher went on school time. The teacher felt that since he attended the workshop the certificate was rightly his. The principal held his ground and kept the certificate. A higher level ruling ended with the arrest of the principal!

*Another school issue had to do with an idea Adam had for a club about health. He wanted to use ideas he learned from his time at Close Up to organize the kids. When he returned to the school for a club meeting the teacher in charge decided on-the-spot to hold an election for club officers. So, right in the middle of the meeting, in a most undemocratic way kids were nominated, who didn't even want to serve as officers, and before he knew what happened the elections was over.

* In yet another school situation he heard about a teacher who beats the students with a stick when they don't perform accurately with their times tables. So, Adam went to the school on a day when he thought this might happen, hoping his presence might save the kids from a beating. While he was there a note was given to the teacher and school ended up being canceled. It turns out there was a major conflict between the Assistant Principal and Principal. Adam was asked by his family to attend a meeting where the conflict was to be resolved. So he went and at the start of the meeting they set parameters and talked about how they would conduct themselves during the meeting. Adam said that within minutes of the meeting beginning it had dissolved into a major argument, going against all of the prior agreements.

Happy Thanksgiving!

(it's no longer Tofurkey Day for me, at least not this year)

I just got down to Kombo yesterday (after a 30k bikeride to Bansang to meet up with Chris on Tues evening and an early morning departure yest) for the Peace Corps Thanksgiving extravaganza! PC is putting up all the vols for a few days and feeding us a big meal tonight ;~) Tomorrow we have the 40th anniversary commemoration of PC in The Gambia (hosted by Pres. Jammeh, although he might not attend), and Sat. we've got the All Vol meeting. So there's a lot happening.

Well, I'm off right now to head over to Thanksgiving dinner, which I've been really excited about! Of course I'll miss being home, but it'll be great to spend it with the other vols too ;~) Just wanted to send a quick note wishing everyone a happy thanksgiving. I have a whole lot to be thankful for...maybe I'll list all that next time I'm online ;~)

Love,

adam

Message from Adam's Mom

For some unknown reason I have been unable to connect with Adam via the phone for about 5 weeks now, hence no updates to the blog. Two weeks ago, my worried mom feelings kicked in big time and I called the PC office to find out if he was ok. Within 24 hours they had contacted him and called me back to say he was fine and they told him basically to "call your mother!" The day after he left a short but sweet message saying all was well and that it was likely a problem with the phone lines there. Anyway, since then still no luck reaching him. So, all of you Adam followers out there, if anyone hears from him please post a message so we can hear what he's been up to.

Home away from home...which one is which?

Ok, deep breath...whew. This is my first self-composed post (thanks mom...for posting other messages for me as well as forcing me to write this one :) in a really long time, so I won't write too much but will try to sum up what's been happening and how I'm feeling lately.

But first, I just want to take a quick moment to say how thankful I am to have wonderful friends/family, and especially to have supportive, loving parents. I don't think I could do this with out you guys!

I'm writing this from a comfy leather chair in an air-conditioned home by the beach in Jersey, so you can probably imagine how weird it's been being home for a brief moment. Here's how I've been describing it to folks here: I went from sleeping in a hut, pooping in a hole, and riding in packed gelegeles to a bed that's more comfortable than I remembered, poopin' in, yup you guessed it, a toilet (which is actually just another type of hole when you think about it), and riding in a stretch Hummer (yes, I felt a little conflicted about that one, but hey, at least we carpooled!) to one of my best friend's weddings.

So yeah, life is very strange these days. Overall, I've enjoyed being home (visiting with family and friends, eating all kinds of food (I think I've had sushi 4 times now!), and not sweating my booty off constantly) but I am looking forward to heading back home (the one in Africa, that is). There are innumerable things I've missed about America since I've been gone -- and I've been ecstatic about experiencing them again -- but right now I miss things about my other home: being far away from traffic, speaking Wollof, my community/neighbors/family over there, my garden, and, in particular, the other Volunteers. There's something about being back here that's a little lonely, not having other Vols around who you can really relate to.

I've found people's reactions to me (and learning about what I'm doing) especially interesting during the past 2 weeks. I've gotten everthing from "Africa...what the hell are ya doin' there?" to "wow, I give you a lot of credit. Thank you for being over there." to (the more ignorant remarks like) "watch out for them people over there, ya know they still throw spears." Lovely. (I responded under my breath, though I kinda wish I had yelled it "yeah, only if you tell bad jokes.")

I like talking about the experience, but it's been exhausting. Some people have a bunch of questions. My parents and some friends have asked some really great questions, but perhaps my favorite demographic group to chat with has been little kids. The other day and earlier today, I visited my mom's k-3 school to talk with the students during lunch/recess. I hadn't prepared a speech or any teaching aids, but it was fun and the kids seemed to enjoy it too! One young boy, after hearing that we don't have electricity but we do have cell phones in my village, asked "well, then how do you charge your cell phone?" They seemed most interested in the living conditions there. You should've seen all of their faces when they heard that I poop in a (non toilet-shaped) hole!

Ok, enough babbling for the moment, I can almost hear you asking "where are the pictures?" Well, here they are...some of them from one home, some from the other. See if you can tell which is which ;~)

Love,

adam/adrock/nadav/biraan

No, I wasn't parking cars, I was one of the "best men"...at Brian's wedding.

Pretending to meditate at Grounds for Sculpture. Mom and I did a little photo shoot.

This wishbone was almost impossible to break! I balanced the camera on a Nalgene bottle.

Rambo on my doorstep. He's becoming quite the little guard-dog.

A "football" match in Karantaba. I think this was during the semifinals.

Papa and Ajie playing with the punch-balloons my grandmother sent. Thanks Nanny, from me and the rest of the fam! They were tons of fun...for the few hours they lasted :)

Me and Rambo. Isn't he photogenic?Well, that's it for now. Hope you enjoyed it! I'm flying back to the Gambs on Friday, inshaallah. I'll probably be back online over the next week, since we have an in-service training in Kombo, b4 I head back to Karantaba. After that, though, who knows. More love,ad

This message is from Adam's mom who talked with him on Sunday, Sept. 2, 2007.

Adam is definitely coming home!!!! He arrives at JFK on Sept. 16 and returns on Sept. 28. The big reason is to be in his friend Brian’s wedding on Sept. 21. He's already stressing about how he'll connect with everyone is such a short amount of time. Here’s the latest from him…

One of the mother’s in his host family is pregnant and suffering with morning sickness that seems to last most of the day. Adam was reading up on remedies that might help her, one of which was mint tea. He’s doing really well with the language and I enjoyed hearing him talk to one of the kids who had wandered into his hut during our conversation. He sounded pretty fluent to me! He said he has good and bad days in this department. Sometimes his African language flows better and at other times he seems to stammer a bit. He said that understanding others can be difficult especially when they’re talking to one another – quickly. His vocabulary is developing nicely and he feels he can mostly convey his meaning to others when needed.A big event this week was a snake in the compound!!! Adam was at a football match (not our kind of football but the other kind) when one of the kids from the family was looking for his uncle. Adam told him where the uncle was and went back to watching the game. When he returned to the compound he found out why they were searching for the uncle – a large snake (about 2 feet long and 5” in diameter) had invaded the compound. And, it seems that killing snakes is a man’s job. The women chop wood and other energetic activities but leave the snake killing to the men who typically bludgeon the snake to death with a shovel or other tool. A shop owner from the village ended up coming that day to deal with the snake though one of the mothers was upset with Adam for not returning to take care of it (though the kid hadn’t told Adam about the snake matter at all). After the snake is killed the ritual is to cut off its head and bury it in the compound to ward off other snakes – let’s hope that works!!! There is a local school just about a ¼ mile walk from Adam’s compound. This is the season for many football matches where one village plays the other. It’s a rather big social event where the girls get all gussied up to watch the guys at play.

This message is from Adam's mom who spoke with him on Tues., Aug. 28, 2007.

I’ve been having trouble getting through to Adam the past few weeks – not sure why. I was sound asleep this morning when the phone rang at about 6:15. It was Adam calling me! We’re trying to put together travel plans so he can come home for his friend, Brian’s, wedding in Sept. I’m working with a travel agent and then communicating the plans to Adam. It’s a tricky way to plan a trip. So, far it’s looking likely that he will make it home around Sept. 16 and then return around Sept. 28. I’ll keep everyone posted. Here are the notes from our brief conversation…for which I was only half awake…

He was part of an emergency action plan drill recently where they have to go to assigned consolidation points. I guess that’s good and makes me feel like Peace Corps cares about his safety.He put a few of his host family members on the phone. First I “chatted” with his 4 year old sister or I should say she rattled off some words in her language and I had no idea what she was saying…but it was very cute nonetheless. Then I spoke with his 15 year old sister Kumba who has a good grasp of English. She asked me about the weather and how my family was, which reminded me of typical language classes from high school. She sounded darling and spoke English with a lovely accent. Lastly Adam put the grandmother on the phone who spoke rapidly and I had absolutely no idea what she said but it was interesting to hear the language being spoken. The whole atmosphere somehow reminded me of a slumber party with everyone just wandering in and out of Adam’s hut. Though it was before my morning coffee it was 4 hours later there.Adam’s garden is making progress, especially the carrots. He recently talked with someone who’s knowledgeable about the plant life there who told him the eucalyptus trees are quite toxic and will stunt growth of other plants. Of course Adam has 2 eucalyptus trees that are towering over his garden…so, we’ll have to wait and see what happens there…

This message is from Adam's mom who talked with him on Sunday, Aug. 12th. I had a nice conversation with Adam though it was a rather bad connection and at times felt like a long distance version of Charades! He sounds great and happy. Here’s the latest from The Gambia…

Adam has been busy planting his own vegetable garden with okra, carrots, butternut squash, hot peppers, tomatoes, and cabbage. The frequent rain takes care of watering. This is a new experience for him which he seems to be really enjoying. He’s also given some seeds to his family and other compounds, making him a Johnny Appleseed (or should I say…Adam Veggieseed)! So, one of his projects has now become promoting nutrition through gardening. Tomorrow he’s planning to plant soybeans to offer another option and good source for protein…hopefully, if all goes well.He’s also becoming a cook of sorts…that is a cook of mosquito repellant. He found a local recipe that starts with the leaves from a neem (sp?) tree. You boil the leaves in water until it turns a yellowish greenish color and then add vegetable oil. There might be more but the connection was so poor I think I missed some steps. Anyway it creates a lotion that repels mosquitoes and actually seems to be working. He’s shared it with his family and other compounds so I guess he is known not as a drug dealer but as the local “bug” dealer. Since they obviously don’t have any Tupperware to store it in I wondered how he’s passed it around. He said they have bowls for everything or else a reused a tin can. Adam is more motivated to help the local community in this way than with his previous hand washing effort. Both the bug repellent and gardening efforts seem to have more immediate results and a tangible benefit to the people – where hand washing doesn’t pay off in such an apparent way.Due to a mandatory training that occurs around the time of Brian’s wedding Adam will not be able to come home. He’s rather bummed about this as you can imagine. Me too... The weather is finally cooler and it rains often but not daily. He wore jeans today for the first time since being there!!! He often imagines how it would feel to be cold though he had a brief moment of cold while bathing in rain. In the midst of the moment it occurred to him that he actually felt cold and said to himself, “Holy sh## I’m cold!”

This message is from Adam's mom. I talked with Adam on July 30th and here are the notes:

He had a long day traveling back from a visit with a Peace Corps friend, Chris. He’s become one of Adam’s closest friends there. Chris has started a banana plantation with a large sum of his own money (which he was originally planning on putting towards a trip to Kenya) and in partnership with a local man. He’s planning on giving the profit to a school library.The weather is much improved. There’s been lots of rain and it’s not quite as hot. To illustrate, Adam said he can know sit inside his hut at night without constantly fanning himself and sweating. A large group from his training group met in Basse last week to celebrate several of their birthdays. Their group seems to be very cohesive and connected, which Adam is really enjoying. During the visit they all (I think about 18) stayed at what is called a Peace Corps transit house, with only 2 bedrooms and a main living room area. Somehow they all fit! While there is electricity it shuts off at 2:00 a.m. every day. So you go to sleep nice and cool and wake up in the middle of the night sweltering.

This message is from Adam's mom who talked with him on Sun., July 15th, 2007.

I had a nice chat with Adam tonight. When he answered the phone he said he was getting ready for bed so I asked what that entailed…so…that’s the first item below:

Getting ready for bed is pretty much the same there as it is here…you brush your teeth and go to the bathroom. The parts that are different involve taking your foam mattress out of your hut where you’ve kept it for the day to keep it dry (in case it rains since the rainy season is beginning) and placing it on your handmade wooden bed frame. The last step is to cover it all with mosquito netting which you tuck in very carefully around all the edges. What I forgot to ask is what happens if you have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night???Adam is safely back in his compound after a 13 hour trip from his time in Kombo (which ended up being for 2 weeks). It was an uneventful return trip except for a fight that broke out on the ferry (it’s a 3-car ferry) when the guy in charge wanted a passenger to pay extra for his luggage (which is quite typical there). When the passenger refused the ferry guy told him in strong language to back the truck off the ferry. When that didn’t happen punches flew and Adam wisely flew the scene.Sharon posed an interesting question to Adam in the comment from the previous blog. She wondered what he might feel differently about when he returns to the USA. Adam’s first reply was that he can’t imagine hating air conditioning – ever!!!To all the MPP folks out there - he LOVED your package - thanks!

New Pix...and yes, I'm alive!

I've been back in Kombo for about a week now for the All Volunteer Meeting (which I've termed the All Vol Ball) that took place on the 3rd, a party at the Julbrew (the Gambia's very own beer!) factory on the 4th, and generally just hanging out with other vols while I'm down here. Oh yeah, and eating lots of food (pizza, burgers, veggies, ice cream!) and spending time at the beach. I'm happy in my village overall, but it's nice to be down here spending time with friends and enjoying much cooler weather.

Sorry I haven't posted anything since I've been down here (for those of you that are interested) but it's just been a little too overwhelming to sit down at a computer after nearly 3 months and try to narrate my life. So I figure between my mom's updates and some pix, this'll be sufficient till the next time I feel like writing a novel :~)

I'm heading back upcountry in a few days, but before I go I'm planning on visiting some NGOs to look for funding for a skills center and community garden that are getting started in/around my village. And, before I go...I want to post some new pictures as well! So here they are, in no particuar order...

I'll try to get back online before I head back to Karantaba and write a little more, but for now, enjoy the pix and know that I'm thinking of you all. I hope everyone is doing well.

Love,

adam

One of my new best bros Chris and me at a bbq the other night at the Agriculture/Forestry APCD's (Assoc. Peace Corps Director) house...there was actually grass in the backyard!

A totem pole with (from bottom to top) me, Harinder, Erin, and Chris.

A rice-sack race in my compound a few weeks ago. I took the pic from my doorstep.

Some of my host bros/sis (Abdoulai aka Lai on the left, Alajie - from another compound - in middle, and Hanta on the right) posing for the camera after they realized I was conspicuously taking pictures of them.

Clockwise from top left: Rachel, Erin, me, and Chris at the beach the other day, shortly after almost drowning (not really, but there was a little scare with the riptide and the rocks), doing some yoga, and having a sandfight on the beach!

Yeah, we did a little photo shoot.

The 4 of us again flashin our butterfly gang signs.

Making our own crepes the other night...when the waiter told us there were no crepes (which PCVs get a discount on) b/c the chef was gone that night, I asked "can we make our own." Sometimes you just have to ask! The chef on the left, I forget his name, helped out but he wasn't the crepe expert. Me, Chris, Rachel, and Pete in the background.

The boys of our training group at swearing in back in April. Clockwise from top left: Chris, Tiny, Peter, me, Mike, and Pete. As you can see, I cleverly merged American and Gambian fashion in a nice ensemble ;~)

Me and Chris in our zen poses. This was at the US ambassador's house, btw, right on the beach.

Me and Fatou (the bride) at the wedding in my compound my first week in village. She doesn't dress like that all the time, she and Sulayman (my host bro) live in Kombo. She gave me the bowl as a gift. They received tons of bowls, fabric, and other stuff as wedding gifts, so I guess they figured there was an extra one for me. I actually use it a lot!

Lil sis Ajie shakin' her booty. I have a video of it too.

The puppy (the kids named him Bobby or Rambo ;) that my host dad got my first week. He's a lot bigger now!

Rambo/Bobby trying to steal my lunch.

Usman, my host bro from training village, showing you how to use the handwashing station. I thought I posted this a long time ago.

Sunset in my bathroom (wanag) in Karantaba.

Host bro Mustafa aka Tafa aka Taftaf showing you a baobob fruit that he found. Baobob (buy in Ollof) is a nice snack...dry but sweet and citrusy.

Host bro lil Sulayman on far right (he no longer lives in my compound, left with his mom to head back to Senegal) and my host uncle Dawda in direct center.

Tiny (in Sare Samba, training village) holding up the scorpion he killed that was crawling up his leg while he was laying on a mat in his compound. He was so excited he walked around the village to show me and the other vols. Thankfully I haven't seen many scorpions, btw, but I do have these huge (supposedly harmless) spiders called "fasi jit" which means scorpion's horse. Apparently, scorpions ride on their backs, or the spiders kill them and carry them off!

The following notes are from Adam's mom following a call on June 24th: I don’t know what happened last week but I was unable to get through to Adam, possibly due to high volume of calls for Father’s Day. I did get through today and we chatted for awhile. From time to time I could hear goats and sheep bleating and baa-ing in background. He’s doing well – here are the highlights…There was a very upsetting occurrence in his host family compound last Sunday when the Host dad beat one of the wives. Adam was in his backyard taking a bucket bath while this was going on so he was unable to do anything – and wasn’t sure what would be the right thing to do anyway. He felt very uncomfortable. The problem seemed to stem from the dad being upset about the baby having gotten dirty and needing to be bathed. He asked his wife to clean up the baby and she said she couldn’t since she was sweeping. A lot of arguing ensued but due to the language being spoken very quickly Adam couldn’t understand what was being said. In this moment he said he felt like more of an outsider than ever, not quite sure of his place. He stayed in his hut until things calmed down and thought about leaving. Instead he consoled the kids with some Traders Joe’s chocolate! He also wasn’t sure if the woman would want him getting involved. He wasn’t sure how to react to the dad so he pretty much avoided him for a few days. The following Tuesday he found the right moment to talk with the dad as he was having dinner with a storm brewing in the background. He basically told him that he wasn’t comfortable with what happened. He felt that the dad seemed to know that already and agreed that his behavior wasn’t right. Adam asked him what would help him stop behaving tht way towards his wife. He didn’t have much of an answer and Adam didn’t want to push the matter too strongly. He also talked with mom too so that she knew how he felt. He said he felt helpless - like a kid might feel in this situation. He also had a chance this week to follow up regarding the milk situation which the dad explained was just part of culture and that the woman weren’t angry with him but just letting Adam know how they felt.Most nights eat the family eats dinner around 8:30. The woman are constantly preparing food and grounding grains. They cook over fire with 3 big rocks that the pot sets on and also have a small metal grill that contains charcoal.He’s finding the mothers in his compound are not as warm as he would like. He would prefer not living in a family compound but that’s the way it is there and he doesn’t have a choice about it.Three other PC volunteers visited last week and he said it was good to have friends to talk with. Their visit lifted his mood considerably!For work this week he spent time with teacher of primary school who is starting a garden beside the river. They presented Adam with 2 nice heads of lettuce which he said was “the greatest thing ever to see”. They are trying to find a way to get a pump so they can more easily get water from river to irrigate their garden. Adam has some ideas for helping them to apply for funds. The first step is that their organization needs a constitution which he helped them to draft – something he felt skilled at helping with.He worked more on his needs assessment by gathering information by visiting different compounds and asking what they think are their biggest problems. They mentioned that the milling machine is broken which is requiring tons of hand grinding of cous. Some of the older guys want some type of business to make money. The head of another compound is trying to raise money for a skills center that would produce products like tie dieing and soap making.He’s had lots of time for reading and just finished The Color of Water, which he really enjoyed. He’s also spent time reading a yoga book I got him which had some very weird and wild body cleansing techniques – which he’s not going to try. One was to run a thread through your nose into your mouth and pull it out to floss your nasal cavity!!!Surprisingly he doesn’t miss showers as much as he thought he would since it’s so hot there – the bucket bath seems to work just fine.The weather has gotten just slightly cooler. They’ve had a few good storms which has helped things to green up as a result. He’s noticing that the trees always had green leaves during the dry season but the ground was just dirt interesting making it an interesting contrast with our winter where the trees have no leaves but the grass remains on the ground. I leaned more about how the cell phone works. It is charged at a government forestry station once a week. So, when it’s original host father said he took the cell phones to the “forest” this is what he meant!Adam mentioned that his hair was getting quite long and it’s just way too hot their to have any more hair than needed. So he asked a local guy to cut it for him and he was “butchered”. Fiona says he looks like a concentration camp victim. Of course the timing of this bad haircut isn’t so great (as these things usually go…), it’s just in time to meet all the other volunteers next weekend!!! He feels he’d be better off getting it all shaved off and may do just that.He’s really looking forward to going to Kombo next weekend and will be there by July 1st or 2nd. He’ll have email and internet access and will try to post more pictures.

The following notes are from Adam's mom after talking with him on June 10, 2007:

Adam bought some fish to share with his family today from a traveling fish peddler who goes from village to village with fish strapped on his bike. The women in his compound cook the fish whole, chop it into chunks and then added on to top or in the middle of the communal food bowl on top of the cous - head, tail and all parts throw in together. As everyone eats people take pieces and toss it in your spot of the bowl. There are about 4-10 people eating out of the same bowl. It’s still “ridiculously hot” to use Adam’s description. There was a bit of a breather mid-week was less hot, which he described by saying he was not constantly sweating. Then last night it suddenly became very windy and dark. A dust storm rolled in. It was quite intense and when he returned to his hut he found the inside was completely covered in dirt. When I asked how he cleaned it off of everything he said, “with my hands”. Adam thinks often of how some of us would react to the living conditions there. OK, he’s not just talking about me not having a hair dryer…or air conditioning…he means all of you who are reading this blog too!Around July 4th all of the Peace Corps Volunteers who are stationed in The Gambia will get together in Kombo for a meeting. He will likely have internet access there and may be able to touch base with folks. He took one health trek this week where he mostly filled in forms and helped the nurses with their jobs. He’s been doing more thinking about focusing his work on helping mothers who are having difficulty nourishing their underweight babies. They do come in for health checks where they get vaccinations and vitamin A but nothing seems to be happening about the babies who seem seriously underweight.When I asked about the food sources that the people grow he mentioned that they do have chickens and other animals but use them almost completely for the money they can bring but not for the food they produce. The eggs that that are hatched grow into chicks and more chickens without ever being eaten as eggs.Back to the weather, a constant topic of conversation. Adam mentioned that everything is hot to the touch in his hut, his hair even feels hot. The local people swim in the river to cool off where there are hippos and alligators and also water born illnesses. Peace Corps rules do not allow the volunteers to swim.I wondered what they wore in weather this hot. Adam said that it’s surprising to see older men wearing really hot clothing like wool caps (almost exactly like his friend Max wore in high school!) and robes called kaftans with pants and shirt underneath. The women wear 2 piece outfits to go out of the compound. Otherwise they wear tank top, see through shirts or no tops at all! Adam chuckled that some of the scene is enjoyable but some women have birthed and nursed 10 kids and have “with boobs that have been through that much…well. you get the picture!”Also this week he gave an Informal health talk about pink eye in a different compound where a boy had developed the condition. He talked about using hot compresses and not sharing the food bowl. Good advice!!! He brought the people in this compound condensed milk as a gift when he visited. When he returned to his compound one of the mothers was upset that he gave milk to them but not to his compound. Of course he’s given them lots of other food items – just not milk. He’s thinking a lot about what this means. He also talked about how everywhere he goes people want him to give them things. If he is carrying a bag of mangoes they don’t ask for one - they tell him to give them one. He’s not sure how to handle these situations. He wants to be generous but doesn’t want to be liked for giving people things.

The following notes are from Adam's mom after talking with him on June 3, 2007:Adam’s doing pretty well but feeling a bit lazy due to the extreme heat. His sleep has been disturbed from the high temperatures. He’s even moved his bed outside of his hut since it’s slightly less hot out there. Notice I didn’t say slightly cooler – I think there are just degrees of hot! He thinks the temperature is about 44 degrees Celsius which converts to 111 degrees Fahrenheit!!! He said many of the folks in his compound have all moved their sleeping mats outside and some move back inside at about 3:00 a.m. when the temperature is finally a little lower. He’s certainly learned to appreciate a good shade tree! Here are a few other highlights from our call…He uses a clay pot to keep his drinking water cool – it’s a lifesaver – round with large bell-shaped top – he dips his drinking cup in it. It can also be kept outside and used a little like a "refrigerator". The one he has was given to him used but it leaks a bit and the inside coating has worn off. A new one costs about $2.00 so I told him to splurge and go for a new one!!! He went to a town named, Basse, by car this week to hang out with some of his PC friends. It’s called the 2nd capital but was much smaller than he had expected. The big excitement was that he had ice cream, tons of cold drinks, and his first hamburger in 7 years!!! It was so good he had another the next night plus a half of a chicken. He hasn’t been eating enough protein and when it was more readily available he went a bit nuts. He and the other volunteers stayed in a Peace Corps house with electricity, a kitchen with just a sink and stove. One room of the house had a/c but the power shuts off at certain times of the day and night so it wasn’t worth much. He had internet access last week but it was too slow to do more than read some web pages.The rainy season starts in a few weeks. He’s been told that the temperature will cool down but it will get much more humid which often leads to skin problems and other unpleasant side effects.The Peace Corps nurse will be visiting soon to check out health of new volunteers. I'm hoping he hasn't lost too much weight.He had a moment last week that felt good work wise. A woman who lives in a nearby compound named Fattu delivered her baby at the local health center. This wasn’t typical as most babies are born at home. He brought her a can of sardines which is one of the best sources of protein there (different from baby gifts around here!). He talked with her about breastfeeding, noticing that the baby is very small. They have a big naming ceremony about a week after the birth. The baby’s father expressed his appreciation for Adam’s support.The week before Adam had a harrowing experience – one that a mother does not want to hear about. He traveled to and from Bansang by which would be about 28 km over unpaved roads. However Adam didn’t take the unpaved roads. He used a map of bush trails left from other volunteers which took him across the river in a small boat and felt extremely remote - a feeling he liked until..... he came upon a troop of baboons (yes, groups of baboons are called troops...I looked it up). These can be pretty dangerous but thankfully they had the sense to not mess with him. On the return trip he saw 3 more troops of baboons, one while he was stopping at the river for a drink. He could feel them checking him out and he tried not to make any sudden movements. One let out a yell that cut to his core so he got out as fast as possible. My advice…stick to the unpaved road!!!

The following notes are from Adam's phone conversation with his mom on May 20, 2007. Enjoy:

He’s living in a hut that measures about 14’ x 14’. It’s made from mud bricks which are smoothed over so it looks more like concrete inside. The ceiling is quite high due to the cone shaped thatched roof which you can see from the inside. Last night was first drop of rain since he’s been in The Gambia and the roof didn’t seem to leak. The previous volunteer said there had been leaks but a new roof was recently added. He also has a small desk and of course a bed. Adam has become friendly with a 38 year old woman names Fiona who is a VSO volunteer. Adam doesn’t know what VSO stands for but thinks it’s an international organization that is similar to Peace Corps. Fiona lives in a “really nice hut" about a 5 minute bike ride away. She actually has a stove and a table which in addition to her hut being about 4 times the size of Adam’s is what makes it so much nice. Fiona is from Northern Ireland, very funny, and spends her time doing teacher training. She has a negative attitude about Americans which is tempered with a good sense of humor. She’s been there for about 2 years. This past week Adam was feeling ill for about 2 days with a mildly bloated stomach and slight fever. He said it’s not fun to be sick there due to the extreme heat making it hard to rest and also needing to use the pit latrine (not normally pleasant) more times a day!

The mail truck arrived today and he was thrilled to have received lots of letters. Lorien, he finally got your letters from March! He thanks everyone for writing. He had his letters nearly ready to mail but didn’t make the mail pick up since the truck came earlier than usual. He’s going to see if Fiona can mail the letters this week when she goes to the nearby town. On Monday he met with the peer health students mostly about planning their ceremony next Sat. Adam will give a keynote speech! He’s planning to say a few inspirational things. He went on trek on Tuesday – this was worst yet with tons of kids who spoke Mandika not Woloff so he couldn’t communicate. His job was to help fill out information cards on each of the new babies but he had great difficulty jotting the answers due to the language barrier. It was very frustrating, hot, and crowded with about 250 crying babies! He’s taking things like this slowly since he’s concerned about offending people. So he’s held back in asserting himself too much but will work on that soon. On Saturday he helped Fiona with a mentoring program for the teachers in training she is working with. Adam gave a run down of assignment writing basics – very basic things like to use capital letters to start sentences and put your name on the paper. It sounds like the education system is very rudimentary. Adam’s attitude is still very positive. He manages to remain focused on the good stuff in his life. While he has some down days they are mostly related to struggles with his work. He said that he felt like the PC training set up for defeat by describing his job as not likely not being too successful. Perhaps they were trying to prepare him for disappointment but it sounds like it has made him less hopeful about successes.

Here's another post from Adam's mom. This one is from a phone call on May 13, 2007:

Adam went to Bansang 20 km away via bush taxi (large van) called a gele gele, he visited training friends, this was the first time leaving new site. One of his friends, Mike hitched a ride with an ambulance to get there.Adam has connected with a Peer health group whose motto is to learn and teach other. The group is sponsored by a Canadian nonprofit organization and coordinated by a Gambian teacher. They haven’t been too active recently but Adam’s interest is spurring them on. He’s trying to get radio station to cover their upcoming ceremony of passing on to the next grade. They make very big deals out of all events such as this. Adam has some ideas to work on with them such as building a hand washing station to encourage cleanliness and a mud stove – so they have less of a need to find firewood.Adam shared a funny story that’s become an ongoing joke in the community: About a week ago Adam was at a different compound in his village where Fiona lives (another volunteer) there was an older guy there, the whole family jokes around a lot and has a good sense of humor. The older guy was talking Adam and asking “do you have a wife?” When Adam replied he didn’t he asked, “Why not?” Adam said, “I don’t want one now.” The entire conversation was in Olloff. The older guy then asked, “Do you have problem with the business? and put his finger in the air. Adam replied, “No it works very well.” All the others in the group were cracking up and another person said “Can you go two times in one night?” Adam replied, “ I could go 10 times in one night!” Then the older guy said he had 2 wives and would sell Adam one! Fatu one of the young wives has now made this an ongoing joke, so every time they see Adam they say 1 night 10 times and ask, if you don’t have a wife how do you know this? Adam then declines to say more using a local proverb: A donkey does not give birth in public…in other words…it’s too personal to discuss.Josh was here and asked Adam to speak some Olloff (sp?). He’s conversational with the language and has found that they talk pretty quickly. He can talk about the kind of music they like, food preferences, about America (they all think all Americans have lots of money). He said he’s learning the language, nda nka nda nka, which means slowly slowly.

The other languages spoken in the area are Mandika and Fula.

This post is from Jamie, Adam's mom. I've been jotting notes as I talk with him each week and will upload them to keep all the Adam fans happy and informed until he can gain access to a computer again.

Here's a synopsis from our call on May 7, 2007:

Tonight he was helping a 16 year old girl write an essay for a school assignment about a naming ceremony – in English. He’s frustrated because her skills are far below what she should have to write something like this. I gave him a few teaching tips but he’s got good instincts on his own.One of the brothers got married and it was a 4 day extravaganza. There was lots of drumming and dancing. They were floored by Adam’s drumming and dancing and want him to dance constantly. He said that others are not dancing but they keep coming to him to get him dancing and he feels he can’t refuse. They’ve been teaching him some different dances. The parents of the bride don’t come to weddings since the bride is now considered to be the husband’s mother’s daughter. All of the families are Muslim so there is no drinking at all. The beverage of choice is a Chinese green tea called Attaya made with a ton of sugar. They pour it into a shot type of glass and they all drink out of the same glasses.He saw them kill a sheep this week which he found interesting but not fun to watch.He went to help at the health center and mostly helped by filling forms. Then he spent one day at another base clinic where he helped with more forms and giving vitamin ear drops. He has also helped to weigh babies which is done in a harness attached to a scale. He said that most of the babies are calm but others scream and kick. I reminded him that he would cry before we even got to the doctors office when he was little! There were over 300 woman and children at the clinic which made it very hectic. They are working on a de-worming campaign (for ring worm) and he noticed that about half of kids are underweight. About half are breastfed for a full six months and it seems that some mothers are worn out from so many other kids that they can’t be bothered breast feeding the new ones that come along. Many women have 10 kids by 45. They do have different kinds of contraceptives but the husbands don’t like their wives to take them since they worry their wife will have sex with other men.With regards to polygamy he hasn’t learned too much about how that works yet. Some families have different huts and others have one big building with separate rooms, though it seems that there are several beds in a room and the kids sleep in the same room as the adults. He has rarely seen any affection between husbands and wives.A Peace Corps friend, Dan, came to visit which took a 2 hour bike ride from where he is stationed. Adam said riding isn’t bad and seems very safe though it’s brutal to ride in the heat of the dayHe has found that they have very little crime.He is in the process of defining his own job. He needs to decide which health issues to take on and how to go about it. My vote is for contraception!

Pictures!

I'm happy to finally be able to share a few pix from the past 2 months...captions below each photo (actually the formatting's a little messed up...so try to match up the caption with the pic instead ;). Don't forget to check out friends' blogs for more photos. No more time to write today and I'm leaving tomorrow for KW (my permanent site) so hopefully I'll talk to you soon, although it probably won't be for weeks at least.

Take care and enjoy a little peak into life here!

adam

Me and the "rude boys"...alkale's brother's sons. Nice guys but with attitudes.

The mosque in Sare Samba.

The girls of the compound...though that's not all of em! Yaa Haddy on the right.

Me and a monkey the other day.

The boys of Health and Community Development training group 2007. Calendar coming soon.

My bro Usman on the horsecart listening to my mp3 player on the way to Soma 2 weeks ago.

Sisters Jey and Mariama, left to right. I must have the most adorable fam here!

Sare Samba's alkale (village head/chief). Don't be alarmed, he does smile.

Some of my host sibs...picture taken from my door. Usman at top, then from left, Haddy, Mariama (aka Ajie), Jey, and Sagar.

Sister Aami holding little bro Moodu.

Yaa Haddy showing you how to eat with your hands ;~) Big house of the compound in the background.

Tiny and the Scouts dancing around the campfire, our 2nd week in SS.

Usman on my bike...I even got him (and all my other sibs who borrowed my bike) to wear my helmut.

Mariama (aka Ajie)...cute as can be, but dafa dof (she's crazy!) and hilarious.

Some of my host bros, in taekwondo stance in my hut.

Addresses?

I realized I never compiled a list of people's addresses before I left, so I actually don't have many folks to write to at the moment. Please email me yours if you'd like to write and be written to ;) Make the subject "My Address."

Jerejef! (thank you)

ad

By the way...

Check out the link to Beth's blog at the right side of the page if you want to read some of my friend's blogs!

I'm in!

I just swore in (or rather "affirmed in" in my case) as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV) earlier today at the US ambassador's residence (pretty cushy digs, if you ask me...right on the beach). So now it's official. Crazy, eh? It's an exciting time right now, swearing in was cool and the food was great. A bunch of other 1st-year Vols came to support us...but mainly for the grub. Tonight the 1st year Health Vols are taking us all out to a "winery" for drinks and all that...should be fun.

Anyway, like I said in the last post, it's really daunting to try to describe training in chronological order, so I'm just going to write more in stream-of-consciousness to make it easier. Otherwise, I don't think I'll be able to organize my thoughts. Alas, I don't have a ton of time now and unfortunately won't have much internet access at my site...I think the closest one is an hour or so bike ride and it's not too reliable. We'll see though. At least I have a phone now! I'll email the number to folks when I can, but you can get it from my parents or Josh if you know their numbers...I don't want to post any of that on the blog.

Ok...so...hmmm, let's see. Yeah, as I've said the experience has been wonderful overall and I'm still really happy to be here! Of course, there have been pitfalls and training, while certainly useful, has been tedious and exhausting at times. But ultimately, it's been great, my fellow trainees are fabulous, and I'm really psyched about the next 2 years. Even though that's a pretty long time, I know it'll go by quickly...the first 2+ months have!

Before I start babbling completely, I'll spend a few minutes answering your questions. Mom: the people and my relationship with them. My host family in SS was terrific...I really feel like I bonded with them. It was a very large family (although pretty common in the Gambia). My host father (who is a marabout...traditional healer and Koranic scholar...in his 60's or so, doesn't know his actual age) has 2 wives -- a man can have up to 4 here legally -- both named Haddy (a pretty common name) and I think 21 kids overall. It might be shocking to many of you our there in TV land ;~) but polygamy is part of the culture here, although not everyone practices it. Although I might not agree with it, mainly b/c in my view it's somewhat subjugating towards women, many people here (women included) support it and they have their reasons so I try not to be judgemental of it. And it's just one of those things that challenges your beliefs when living in another culture. My mom (Yaa Haddy) is a pretty jovial, strong woman. The other Haddy was my "bajen" or aunt. The women here are amazing in general in terms of how much work they do...laundry (which entails a lot more than just throwing clothes and detergent in a machine...not to downplay anyone's household chores back home :), fetching water from the well and carrying it, sometimes hundreds of feet, on their heads (I've been getting pretty good at that skill, btw), taking care of tons of kids, cooking, and lots more.

So anyway, one of my brothers, Usman, 13 years old, was one of my best friends in the village -- he speaks English really well, so he helped me quite a bit in the beginning when I didn't know the language at all. We joked around a lot...I tend to do that with most people as Gambians are generally friendly, especially if you make an effort to speak to them in one of the local languages. One of my big jokes with my whole family was telling them that cabbage was my wife...ya know, I love cabbage - so why don't you marry it? I told my family that I love cabbage and I'm going to marry it and they cracked up...it became a running joke for the last few weeks I was there. People are always asking if you have a wife/husband, if you want one, why not, how bout this person, and so on! So it's nice to have a good joke to get you out of that when people are teasing you. Yeah, so I had about 15 host bros/sisters living in the compound...ages ranging from 1 year to 17 years old. I spent a lot of time with the family, especially at night when the day of language and technical training was over, just chatting and hanging out. I tutored my host sister, Aami - 16 or 17 - some nights. She and Usman are both in 5th grade, which is like the equvalent of 3rd grade in the States, I think. My host sisters Kaani and Howa were both around 16 years old and were fun to hang out with. They were always so bright and smiley, even when they were working...pounding grains with huge mortar/pestals. Howa started teasing me -- in good fun -- about my voice being low and monotone. So after a while, when we'd greet each other (greeting is a big part of Gambian culture, btw: Salaam aleekum, Maleekum salaam. Nanga def, Mang fii rek. Naka suba si, Suba sang fii rek. Peace be unto you, And also unto you. How are you, I'm here only. How is the morning, The morning is here only. etc) she would do it in a really low voice and I'd do it really high, immitating each other.

One thing that helped me break the ice with my family was the ukulele...I broke it out the 2nd or 3rd night in SS (and the 1st night in my new village, where I'm going on Sunday) and played some tunes for the fam. Mostly Bob Marley, since that's about all I can play on the uke - it's tougher than guitar - but they taught me a Wollof proverb (Ndanka ndanka mooy japa golo ci nyaay bi...slowly slowly catches the monkey in the bush) that I put to music. They loved it! It was pretty simple, but people were singing it to me my whole time in SS! I also taught some taekwondo to my host brothers. They were really into it, and had some lessons from a previous trainee in the village. My 2nd week there, I taught a yoga class mostly in Ollof, which was fun...nokee chee beer, nokee chee beetee - breathe in, breath out. A funny moment that day was when I meant to ask "how is your body (yaram)" after some stretches but instead said "how is your coward (yambar)." Usman still hasn't forgotten about that ;~)

Overall, people have been great...although it can get frustrating dealing with the same questions over and over again from different people. Everyone wants you to stop and chat with or at least greet them. Regardless, it's fun and each time you stop to talk it helps with language practice.

Ok Mom, so that was a start to answering your first question ;~) As for the next one, what'll I be doing next: I'm heading to a relatively small village "up-country" called Karantaba Wollof. I visited there last week and really liked it already. The family there -- also fairly large -- is great, there's a lumo (weekly market) right there, and the people all around seem friendly. I was only there for 3 days last week, but people already told me that my Ollof is good -- Dega nga Ollof, You hear Ollof, they say. I think they're so impressed partially b/c the PCV that I'm replacing apparently didn't speak much other than the greetings. But I'm feeling pretty confidant/proficient with the language already. So anyway, for the next 3 months, affectionately referred to as "3 month challenge" I'm supposed to stay in my village (or at least not spend the night outside of it), work on my language skills, conduct a community needs assessment (pretty extensive but very useful in determining my future work), and just try to integrate. I'll also be helping out at the health center down the road, working with my counterpart (a community health nurse named Kebba) going on "treks" to other villages (weighing babies, giving advice to mothers, vaccinating kids, etc), and possibly beginning to teach at the local school. I'm gonna take it easy in the beginning (as is recommended) so I'll still have time to myself and so I don't burn out.

Mitch: how coincidental you're also going by the same name as me ;~) I always had you pinned as an Abdulai! Send me an email or letter sometime soon to let me know how you're doing! That goes for everyone else, btw.

Sharon asks -- what about the food? Yeah, I've been eating a fair amount of meat. It's amazing how drastically my diet has changed in the past few months. I started eating anything that was put in front of me right off the bat, but surprisingly and fortunately I haven't had any problems adjusting. Of course, that's not to say I don't miss fresh veggies/salad/fruit/the list goes on. But the food here is really tasty! We eat a lot of coos (chere in Ollof) which is kinda like coos coos but is made by pounding a grain, then steaming it and more that I don't fully know about yet. It's got a bit of a sour taste, and some Vols hate it, but everyone in my training village liked it a lot. It's often served with basse sauce, which I don't know how to describe...it's yummy though. We didn't get many fresh veggies (at least not in SS, maybe more so in KW in the right season), but sometimes ate my wife :~) cabbage, aka supame, and other veggies I'd pick up at the market...only a few times b/c SS is very far from any big markets. In training villages, we have breakfast and dinner with our families, but eat lunch with our LCH - Lang and Cultural Helper - which is provided by Peace Corps. Then, we had more meat (chicken, beef, spam...not my favorite, but I'm trying to stay healthy and not loose weight) and veggies (supame, potatoes, carrots, onions, eggplant...yikes!) than with our families.

I have gotten sick a few times so far. Once was my second week in SS. I just felt really bloated (like it took forever to digest my food) and a little feverish for one evening, but felt better after going to the Boy Scout campfire. The Scouts are pretty big here, and Tiny is really into Scouting so worked with the local scout leader to organize the campfire for Founders' Day, complete with dramas from the kids on health and gender issues (I can't remember exactly what at the moment). And picture this: Tiny (a nearly 300 pound white dude) in his boy scout uniform (with had and shorts) dancing around the campfire singing I'm a Little Teapot to the beat of We Will Rock You! Hilarious! We all danced around the fire at one point while the kids were singing. It was a good time and definitely helped ward off my illness :~) Pictures coming soon...and by soon I mean when I have a chance, which could be tomorrow (hopefully) or in a month or so ;)

The other times I got sick were once in Tendaba (a safari-kinda resort on the river where we had 2 separate weeks during training, mainly to learn technical/personal health stuff) which wasn't too bad, just a little diarrhea (sorry, too much information?), and then my last week in village I got pretty sick just for one day. Diarrhea all day and vomitted once, but I spent the whole day in bed...even though it was ungodly hot!...and felt much better the following day. I try to be really careful, washing my hands/treating and filtering my water/taking my malaria pills, but sometimes you just can't avoid getting sick. I eat out of the foodbowl with my family -- you probably don't want to heard this but whatever :) -- which many volunteers don't do but I think it helps with integration, and it's probably not totally hygenic since not everyone washes their hands.

Sharon also asked: "Also, more about the people you have met, not only from PC, but also about random encounters that might make for good anecdotes. Made friends with any locals yet? Lastly, heard or played any good music?" First, yeah, I've played the uke for my families and with other PCVs, and since we've been in Kombo this week I've jammed quite a bit...there's a guitar at the Stodge (the PC hostel). It's been a lot of fun...we've been having some good singalongs. And towards the end of training in SS, Allison, Cassandra, and I rode our bikes to Kayaff (the village where Chris, Rachel, and Courtney were staying...good friends) to see a Kora show. It was very cool...and my host mom went there on a horse cart with other important women from our village. I got to see here all dressed up in her complayt.

Yeah, I've been making friends with locals, as you can see above, but I'm sure I'll have more opportunities to do so now that I'm going to my permanent site. Training was so intense that I didn't have too much time to just sit and chat with folks in the village since I wanted to spend time with my family. Hmm, random encounters. Well, you'll appreciate this one. I went to the lumo in KW last week, my second day in the village, with my younger host bros Abdulai and Alajie (10 and 14, respectively, I think). I was chatting with various people around the market and stopped to chat with some young guys (in their 20s probably) selling mangos (my first wife, btw). ;) We went through the usual greetings, how are you, peace only, how are your homepeople, they're there, how's the afternoon, it's here only, etc. and then chatted for a bit. They teased me a little, of course, but only in good fun and were laughing at me mainly b/c they're impressed that a toubab (white person) can speak Ollof. They invited me to sit down so I did, and then a short, stocky young guy wearing a gold/diamond encrusted 2PAC belt buckle, a skull cap, and a 50 Cent t-shirt (tons of people have those here, and Destiny's Child too) walked up and one of the others (Sulayman, I think) jokingly said, "hey, this guy's a nigga, do you know what that is?" I was like, "yeah, it's a bad word" or something like that, and the dude, Amadou, sat down and we chatted some more. That was the first time I've heard the word nigga since I've been here. Amadou was actually a pretty nice guy although definitely a little pompous. He told me I should come visit him in Bansang (south of me where there's a hospital and internet), and that he would help me find a wife ;~) Ummm.

Elana asks: what kinds of stones do we have here? Hmm, not many that I know of, sorry. I'll have to look into it for you. But as far as I know, there aren't any diamonds here like there are in Sierra Lione or elsewhere. Speaking of which, I just watched Blood Diamond the other night at the Stodge.

Phew, that's it for questions. I hope you're enjoying reading this. Sorry to babble so much, but it would just take too much time to collect my thoughts first. I've already been here for 2 hours!

So, before we part, I'll just mention a few highlights from my life the past few months:

For my final project/presentation during training, I built (with the help of Usman and my other host bros) a hand-washing station (rahasukay). Most people here use these plastic kettles (satala) to wash their hands, but it bothered me because unless you have someone pouring the water for you, you can't wash both hands simultaneously. So we built the rahasukay. I'll show you pix of it sometime ;~)

My last weekend in SS, I rode on a horsecart (sereti fas) with my host mom, Usman, and my bro Moot (sounds like Mort) to Soma (about an hour away, where they have a big market, cold drinks, etc). I walked around with my bros, bought some fruit and veggies and a soccer ball as a parting gift for the kids, and then we went to a packed "theater" to watch a Jet Li movie. The theater consisted of a bunch of benches in a dark room, fans on the ceiling, and a nice flat screen TV in front. It cost 2 dalasi per person (which is only about 10 cents) for a full length film...not bad. It was fun, mainly because I was just getting the local feel for things and I was the only toubab in the joint -- some people actually call me naar instead of toubab b/c they think I'm Lebanese/Mauritanian.

Ok, that's all I got for the moment...I'm about to head back to the Stodge to relax before going to the party at the winery. I'll try to get online again tomorrow to post pix and write more, but I'm not sure I'll have time since we're skipping town on Sunday. I hope everyone is marvelous and that I'll hear from you soon...preferably in a letter since I'll have very limited internet access :~)

Nyu endu jama (may we spend the day in peace...the response is jamaa jama...peace and peace),

biraan