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

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

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

Jansaba suddenly turns to peer at me...

"Isatou, you don't have a husband? What happened to Malik?" she asks me.

"He was never my husband..." I answer awkwardly. "I'm not ready, you know this! All the time you ask me this, Jansaba."

She giggles, then looks down to punch two small holes into the can of ley. "I miss my husband."

I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly. She was married? She looks so young!

"Where is he?" I ask. Sirra's head falls delicately into my lap and she starts to snore.

"Italy." She starts to clean the shot glasses used as drinking cups for attaya and ley. "He has been gone 6 years. Sometimes he calls."

"Why hasn't he sent for you?"

She shrugs her shoulders.

"But... you love him?" I ask, which may seem foolish, but a legitimate question in a land of arranged marriages.

"OH YES!" She exclaims, standing up. "I don't take boyfriend because of my love for him. Sometimes it seems so big I think it's not possible. Other days I think I cannot remember his face."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bella boo.

buzzards.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                             [Jessi & I at the dolphin show at the Madrid Zoo! FANTASTIC!]

     [Jessi, Whitney & I before going to see "Carmen: The Flamenco Ballet." It was amazing!]

 [Strange creatures in the square... these people are everywhere! The rabbit scared me. I had to walk very quickly away.]

...hasn't fallen at all!

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

INTERESTING THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED IN SPAIN:

1. Freaking out about seeing McDonald's then promptly having a photo shoot at 5am. Tammy & I both nearly teared up over our meals. Then I immediately had diarrhea. Standard.

2. Stepping onto the Metro and greeting everyone with a big "Salaam maaleekum." It was very embarrassing.

3. Speaking Mandinka and not Spanish. It happens ALL THE TIME!

4. Going to the zoo with Jessi and watching her ask the man, "If we rent a buggy, do we have to be disabled?" After having rented the buggy, she attempted driving it down a wheelchair ramp and broke the fence on top of getting stuck. A nice Spanish dad helped us push it back up the hill and his daughter sobbed the entire time.

5. Watching the people be painted with silver and gold paint and then taking pictures of them as they pretend to be statues.

6. Getting free shots everywhere! What is the sense in that?! Do people know we are poor? We sure aren't attractive OR clean! OR healthy, for that matter.

[the south of France... yes, I went there! For free! I'm so lucky!]

[beautiful San Sebastian... again, I could live here]

[ a couple getting it on on the beach!!!! yikesers.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dean Pritchard decided to follow me.

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

Wrong. Dead wrong.

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

Liz starts laughing and I start to panic.

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

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

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

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

Maiyo in the garden

Amie in the garden

The walk back from the Garden :o]

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

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

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

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

Kuraw's on fire!

[a picture of Momodou and F.O.]

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

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

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

The Nursery School!

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

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

Ashley’s village is too fun.

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

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

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

“Hey Ash,” I say. “Let’s catch Oreo and teach Momma a lesson.”

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

Needless to say, we taught Momma a lesson.

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

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

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

“I’m so sorry, guys,” I choked out to James, Tavi, and Amber. “That was just… oh God… I’m so emotional.” And then I’m back to crying profusely.

“You know what? That was really neat to see,” Tavi said. And with that, I really lose it. I threw on my iPod headphones and cranked some tunes, trying to settle down.

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

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

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

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

[a baby fast asleep on a gele]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Maiyo & my little babe, Senne]

March 9th, 2009

>

> Wow, I have already been at site for 2 months. That is astounding to me! I

> have been struggling trying to load my pictures on my blog, so I will try

> to describe my village, Kuraw. It is set back from the road; you enter it

> by way of a narrow, dusty path. The north bank of the Upper River Region

> is a region unlike any other in The Gambia. It is filled with miles and

miles of African savannah⦠pale golden grass with the occasional large,

very green tree. So you can see Kuraw from the road. It is a small village

by The Gambias standards [about 39 compounds, approximately 550

people¦ make that 555 because of the 5 births that have happened since

January!], but it is beautiful. I live on the edge of the village,

directly across from a pump that overlooks the savannah, split only by the

reddened road. It's gorgeous. The mosque is only a few steps from my

door, as well as the school for the women's literacy program. On the

winding path into Kuraw,there is a large school and immediately adjacent is the nursery school I am working on getting running. Honestly, I need to get pictures up, and stat!

> Up behind the mosque there is a small beaten down path amongst the tall

> grass that winds right to Kuraw's stone circles. Again, I must get a

> picture :o]

>

> I spent the other night in Lizzy's village [truly my home away from

> home, her family is absolutely amazing] and had Modou pick me up on his

> motorbike the next morning. He took the back route [through the bush…

> what am I talking about, the entire URR is the bush] to Kuraw and stopped

> at several villages to check on projects he is been working on. It was

> really fascinating to see¦ one Fula village was digging a new well,

> their goal was 43 meters¦ they had already reached 27 meters deep and

> had yet to strike water [just an example of how dry it is during the dry

> season!]. Crazy.

>

> We rode through Kwonku and I was like, Modou! My host sister is

> here! A few weeks ago Manta's mother came for a visit and brought

> Sene, my 2 year old babygirl, back to her village. I have been a bit lost

> without having her tied to my back, or banging on my door naked at 7am

> saying, Isatoooooouuuuuuu!! I immediately wanted to see her, so we

> hunted down Tourey Kunda and sure enough, there she was. One of the older

> girls carried her over to me and she reached her arms out for me and said,

> Ma! [what young children call their mothers¦ haha]. I literally

> started tearing up. Modou was standing awkwardly beside me, stammering out

> a, Well, welll¦ shshshshshe recognized you INSTANTLY!

>

> I talked to her for a bit with her on my lap and then handed her back to

> her grandmother. We walked through the compound to Modou's motorbike

> when I heard women laughing and speaking in rushed Mandinka. Modou burst

> out laughing, and I immediately said, What! What are they saying? He

> replied, Sene is crying. She is saying she does not want you to go.

>

> Oh, for God's sake, I started crying. Typical. The tears started

> streaming down my face in the middle of a country where you are not

> supposed to show emotion. There are 2 cats strapped to the back of

> Modou's motorbike in this stupid basket thing and I'm trying to climb

> onto the back of it and I have snot running out of my nose and I can™t

> talk because I'm crying. Modou just stood there staring at me, a hot

> mess trying to get on a motorbike blubbering away, and he says, Oh, oh

> oh Isa¦ Isa? I'm like, MODOU GET ON THE BIKE WE'RE GOING.

> At this point, 2 of the girls were bringing Sene across the compound and I

> could see her crying and reaching her arms out for me¦ I just put my

> head down and cried into my chest. To make matters worse, I was sweating

> profusely and my hair was awry [again, typical]. GET ME OUT OF HERE, was

> all I thought.

>

> So we drove off. I didn't stop crying until we reached Kuraw, which is a

> good 45 minutes away. Talk about embarrassing. It's the first good cry

> I've had since being here, and it had nothing to do with not being home,

> or missing my family. It had to do with a 2 year old who I have become

> incredibly attached to in under TWO MONTHS. I am doomed when I leave,

> doomed!

>

This just arrived from Kasey so am posting for all of you to enjoy.

Hi Mom! It's Lizzy Lizzy. This is from Kasey. Happy Birthday!!#

[hi mum, can you post this to my blog? www.blogger.com My email is:

Kadyrose8@yahoo.com and my password is summer37. I LOVE YOU and happy birthday!]

March 2nd, 2009

I am currently writing from a computer lab at a nursing school in Bansang. It's

9:00am and I can hear the sounds of the RCH clinic outside the door; screaming

babies, chattering mothers, and a chain being swung over the beam in the ceiling to

set up the scale to weigh the children. Liz and I arrived last night to stay in

Bantonto, Marnie's village, which is about 4km from Bansang. It was quite the trip

in yesterday [funny side note -- just logged into my Yahoo!email account and was

informed that it's 19 degrees at home. It's currently pushing 90 degrees here, and

only getting hotter. Surreal!]. I only have a quick minute to post this, and will be

in Kombo within a week where I will be able to write much, much more, but wanted to

let everyone know the following:

1. I am alive, and VERY well... although the other day, on a 9-hour trip to the

Married's site to get 2 kittens [due to an immense mouse problem in my hug], I

vomited out of a moving gele. Mid dry-heave I was propositioned for marriage by the

side of the car park... never have I looked better, obviously. Then Rachel drags me

onto the nicest gele I have ever seen [plush midnight-blue seats! dark silk window

curtains! a sunroof! SPEAKERS and a radio!] and I think, oh God, I'm going to vomit

all over the place. I am shoved into a seat next to a window. A beautiful Fula woman

sits beside me with her infant child. I begin sweating and shaking... the gele

starts to move, I get concerned because the woman in front of me has her arm hanging

out the window and I have no space to stick my head out. In one bold attempt I throw

open the window, stick my head out, start vomiting as all the school children

walking past scream "Toubab!" and immediately stop pointing

when they see what is happening. The baby next to me begins touching me in

inappropriate places and I can do nothing to stop it, as all I can concentrate on

is getting rid of whatever is in my stomach. The gele is moving so fast the vomit

ends up in my hair, and I am mortified. I finally pull my head back in, everyone in

the gele is asking me if I am feeling better, and the woman whose arm I pinched in

the window in front of me turns around and hands me a menthol coughdrop. I nearly

cry tears of happiness from the strangers around me.

2. I have been battling immense homesickness, but I am doing a lot better now. It

really is a rollercoaster ride.

3. Again, my hut has an insane amount of mice. I don't know what to do about it. The

kitties are smaller than the rats and spend their days sleeping, so they are of no

help. The most they do is have the runs on my bed, which I can't get mad at them

about, because my GI issues haven't exactly resolved, either.

4. My site is beautiful, breath-taking, amazing. There are unreal bush trails I can

go jogging on [where I constantly have Sting's "Fields of Gold" playing in my mind

as I pass through the wheat, unnoticed] & Amanda recently showed me how to get to a

cliff overlooking the river. The Gambia snakes its' way through villages, fields,

and trees... it was beautiful and serene. I will be going back soon.

5. I have fallen completely in love with my host family. I am not sure it's normal

to have such an attachment to them already, but I cannot imagine being without them.

They are all truly extraordinary. There is Maiyo, my 9 year old host sister, who

beats up any boy who says anything rude to me. She also knows when I need a hug or

to tell me she loves me. There is her sister, Manta, my age, who constantly thanks

me for the bra I gave her and will flash me any chance she gets. She washes that

thing every day. There is Sirra, Manta'sa 4 year old daughter, who is always by my

side wanting to help whatever I do. Senne, Manta's 2 year old daughter, is

constantly swaddled to my lower back, yelling "Ma! Ma!" while I pound rice with the

woman in the wooden mortars. Niara, the 15year old girl who is here to learn how to

cook, with her rockin' body and her soft, sad words when telling me about her

boyfriend who left to Kombo. Wuday, the amazing 16 year old girl

here to go to school, who is consistently helping me with my Mandinka and pushing

me to work harder. My host mother, Fatoumata, who brings me to every birth in the

village, whether it is 8am or 3am. Again, I am in love.

Okay, I think that's it for now. About a month ago I mailed home my flashdrive full

of pictures. I am hoping my mum will be able to post some and SOON :o] I miss

everyone terribly & hope all is well :o] Please send me emails, as I have a phone

now that allows me to check them. And thank you again for all the letters and

packages I have received, it makes the tough days seem a lot easier! I promise to

write more soon, I have a lot of stories in my head that need writing out. I just

want to say this, though... the difficulties of this have really hit me. And while I

definitely have my moments [aka crying into my bowl of oatmeal & syrup in my

backyard at 8am], I'm still here. I am STILL here, it's been almost 4 months, and

that astounds me. Also the fact that my family is coming in May is really helping!

:o]

** HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MUM! :o] I hope you don't have to work, and if you do, I hope it

goes by quickly... and that Nick takes you somewhere fabulous for dinner, YOUR

choice of course :o] I LOVE YOU!! **

Here are just a few pictures from swear-in this morning... :o]

I hit intermediate mid in Mandinka and I get to swear-in and become an offical Peace Corps Volunteer on Wednesday! Everyone did, and it's so exciting. I am so proud of our group, we are all still here, which seems to be quite the feat. I seem to be so happy here, despite major setbacks. It's really amazing :o]

On a side note, some more stories. We are staying at stodge, which is the Peace Corps Transit House in Fajara [an area of Kombo]. Lizzy, Marnie and I are in a room with 2 bunkbeds. I decided to go to sleep at 9 the other night because I was wicked tired. The girls stayed out in the living room to watch tv with everyone and socialize.

Around approximately 10:13pm, I hear Matt's voice. Now, he has quite the distinguishable voice. [side info: Matt is an agfo PCV and he's downright amazing/hilarious] Our bedroom door creaks open and the light is switched on. Okay, I think. No big deal, just Lizzy or Marnie. Then the light shuts off and I hear footsteps. Then the bathroom light goes on and I hear someone urinating. I remember thinking, okay, cover it up Kase, so I threw the sheet over my body and feigned sleep.

I hear the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing, the light being turned off, and someone leaving our room. Okay, no big deal. Just Lizzy or Marnie.

Lizzy strolls in around 11:30. I have yet to really sleep at all.

"Hey Lizzy Lizzy, did you come in to go pee?" I asked.

"Uh, nope! Been out in the living room socializing." She answered.

"I'm pretty sure Matt came in here and used our bathroom," I said.

"WHAT?! No he didn't. Why would he do that, there's a bathroom right down the hall!" Lizzy replied.

Well, I thought, that's very true. I must have been dreaming.

Since the light was on anyway, I crawled off the top bunk and went into the bathroom. Sure enough, the toilet seat was up. No surprise that there was urine in the toilet bowl as well.

"Ah-HA!" I shouted. "HE DID PEE IN OUR BATHROOM!" Lizzy rushed in and this became quite the show. Matt ends up walking by our room and we yell to him. He admits to urinating in our bathroom and then explains his reasoning as to why he used ours and not any of the other 12 bathrooms in the house.

He leaves, Lizzy and I go to bed.

30 minutes later, Rachel shows up, calls us all crazy, and tries to set Lizzy's bunk on fire.

About 15 minutes after that, the door opens again.

"Who's there?!" Lizzy asks.

"It's no one," a muffled voice answers. Then the muffled voice trips over the mess in our room and the bathroom light is flung on. Sure enough, it's Matt.

[pardon the swear, mum] "Your shit is EVERYWHERE!" he shouted. "I JUST WANT TO BRUSH MY TEETH!"

Needless to say, I got no sleep and it was an amazing night. We have the best half-roommate ever. Probably not as funny as I thought it was but hey, TIA.

I'll be coming back to the office later to write more, I have some amazing pictures from our night on the town last night that I want to post :o] Miss and love you all so much!

[My little Ousman, husband numero uno! Is he not fabulous?!]

So many amazing things happened this evening! Number one being, my mama musoo and Fatou came back from Kombo! This is wonderful for so many reasons, number one being that Fatou is no longer sick. Number two, my best friend is back! We were seriously inseparable. Yes, I know she’s 6 years old, but she is the only girl in this entire compound and we bonded. What can I say? THIS IS AFRICA.

Then, as they are getting off the gelegele, I notice a boy dragging in a sheep with a baby! The baby was probably 2 days old, max. Might I add, momma and baby are currently tied to my front porch post. Pretty amazing, despite momma sounding like a man.

Did I mention that I cried when I saw Dobally and Fatou get off the gelegele? Cause I did. And I am pretty sure they think I am crazy, but that’s okay with me. I am so incredibly happy for them to be back! Fatou came running up to me and I am sniffling away, struggling to find the Mandinkan words for “I missed you, you were gone too long, I’m so glad you’re back!” and instead I just crushed her to me and was blubbering away. Had we been in the states, someone would be yelling to ‘get that girl a Kleenex stat’. I promised Brendan’s host sister [also named Fatou] that I would help her with her homework tonight, so Fatou, Manding [she’s the 2 year old who has finally decided that she likes me] and Ousman trudged up through the town. It was the Von Trapp family, I swear. I have taught the little Ousman to sing the “Dayyyyyoooo… me say daaayyyyoooooo” song and I am determined to videotape it before I leave on Sunday.

We also went to visit Whitney. There was a boy there that told his mother he was going to marry me. His name is Ismila [pronounced iSmile-yah… perfect because he has a gorgeous smile!] and he’s actually super attractive. I told him my husband was in America, but he insisted he’s in love with me. He’s 27. Should be interesting, haha.

Pretty crazy that we are already done with our training villages. We shall see how this goes!

I just took my language test and I think I bombed it. I legitimately think I bombed it and I am freaking out. I am going to finish typing this up, wait for Liz to get done her test, and we are going over to the office so I can post this.

If I didn’t pass, I don’t swear in. That means I stay in Kombo for an extra week and I don’t want that, I will be mortified. I have to hit intermediate mid. Please pray for me…. I am hoping that the LCF’s opinion will override any mistakes I made personally, as Babucar and Bakary both talk about how I am always with my family, greeting, speaking and studying Mandinka. And that’s all I’ve done since being in Kombo, is study.

Okay, deep breath. I will live. On a lighter note, I stuck my foot in a bucket of hot salt water for 30 minutes and you’d be appalled to see the amount of pus that leaked out of the wound. It is now saturated in Neosporin and looks like someone spit on my foot. The throbbing has somewhat slowed down, so that’s good.

Okay, I’m saving this and heading to the office. I miss everyone! I hope everyone is doing amazingly :o]

Just a quick blurb about my day yesterday/today. Yesterday was just wonderful. We all awoke at the Basse house at 6:30 and traveled 2km through town [again] with all our bags [again] and grabbed a Gele to Soma on the Southbank road. That equals pure torture.

I’m beginning to think that taking Seasonique was a bad idea, as my period decided to come while I was on the gele and it was not pleasant. We were smooshed among several Gambians and I am pretty sure our driver was 15. We ended up in the African Bush and we pulled over several times so the cops could inspect our luggage [apparently there is a lot of drug smuggling over here]. After about 9 hours of driving, our gele broke down. Let me please include a picture of this scene.

If you will look to the right of the vehicle, you will see Babucar, one of our LCF’s, praying. In the middle of the street. To the left of the vehicle is our driver with our other LCF’s and a random man attempting to fix the tire. To the complete left of the picture, you see a bunch of Fula children staring at the toubabs. This was surreal. I took this picture directly after having a gardia attack behind a large baobob tree [thank you again Liz for guarding].

We climbed back onto the gele and finally made it into Soma. Let me rewind a little bit and give a little story. Approximately one week ago, a small red ant viciously attacked my second toe [yes, Marsey, the hideous ET toe that’s longer than the big toe]. It was no big deal until the past few days. By the time we got to Soma, my entire foot was swollen to twice its’ size and was red. My ankle looked like it was pregnant and my toe was throbbing. My foot was FILTHY. We hopped on a gele and rode into Kwinella… on the way there, we passed by Bambako and Bumari. I saw Mustafa! He is such a sweetie. I hung out the window to yell to him and he was like, “SAAATUUUU!!!!” and waved, despite carrying a bucket of water on his head.

I tapped Babucar on the shoulder and said, “Babucar, Ismila le?” And he was like, “A be je” [Where is Ismile? He is there only]. I was like, man. Then Babucar goes, “Ismila a fele!” and points to the road. Sure enough, he is walking in all his African glory with a few of his buddies, sees me, and does a double hand-wave. When we got back to Kwinella, Babucar called my host father and told him to send Ismila to Kwinella after 9o’clock prayer. HE CAME. He brought attaya, we all drank it, and I didn’t get to bed until 11:30. It’s rather interesting and awkward and I don’t really know what to do about it. So that is all I will say about that.

Next. Liz and I sleep on the floor that is crawling with ants. I have a bizarre dream that she’s under the bed and wake up all messed up. 5:30am comes and we leave to go to Kombo. The gele is fairly uneventful. The only thing that really happened was an insane dust storm evaded the ‘bus’ and I inhaled it all. Lungs didn’t feel so great but that’s not a big deal.

And now, here I am. Off to study for my Mandinka test! I am very tired after 3 days of insane traveling, and I am broke, so I need to find a bank as well so I can cash the 20 my gramps sent me for Christmas :o] Love you all!

a picture of Lizzy and my delicious egg sandwich! HEAVENLY.

The naming ceremony... I am Isatou Demba, aka Saatu Demba, aka Isa! I realize I look like ET!

At the RCH Clinic with Whitney... this little baby's shirt said "Toubab" which means 'white person' or 'foreigner'. We get yelled that a LOT here.

My host mum [who is 25], Isatou, her son Ousman, [aka my future husband] and Fatou, my best friend, Isatou's niece. They are dressed beautifully for Tobasci!

Today is Tobasci. Tobasci is an Islam holiday that celebrates when God told Abraham to kill his older son, Isaac [or Ishmael, here]. When Abraham went to kill his son, Isaac/Ishmael turned into a goat and his life was spared. Here in little Bumari [and all of The Gambia] it is a huge celebration. I was in my backyard catching up on some homework when I heard one of my younger host brothers screaming. Thinking he was in danger, I ran through my house and out the front just in time to see 5 men holding down a ram and one of my older brothers slitting its’ throat. OHHHHHKAYYYY now. A little too much for me to see… so of course I turned right back around and went back into the house.

Curiosity obviously got the best of me so I peeked out my window. The ram was dead and they were arranging the head so the blood would drain. I almost vomited all over myself and retreated to the solitude of my backyard. I will eat the meat they serve me, yes, but watching them gut and skin a live animal is not my cup of tea.

About 30 minutes later, I heard a dragging noise. Sure enough, my family was bringing the carcass behind my latrine/backyard area. Within minutes I had about 8 buzzards flocking around. So much for peace and solitude today.

Everyone is dressed in their finest, in the most beautiful fabrics with the nicest shoes and purses. The girls are adorning beautiful hair with clips, while the men have fashionable hats on. Soon the children will be running around yelling “saliboo, saliboo!” which is like Halloween when we say, “Trick or treat!” I have a bag of mintees ready for them [have I mentioned mintees yet? They are not mints. They are not even candies. They are menthol cough drops and people, not just children, devour them here. Not something you see every day in America]. Today has been exhausting in ways, which is strange to me, considering this is my first full “personal day” I’ve had. Lots of homework and studying for me, and attempting to understand the conversations around me.

Well, just got a text from Andy. I guess it’s snowing like crazy at home… makes me smile :o] I hope you are all loving the Christmas decorations out everywhere, the songs on the radio, the beautifully decorated church sanctuaries. I know I am missing the annual Christmas concert and the Christmas Eve service, which will be hard, as I love them and my Christmas season is not complete without them. But I am here, I am doing God’s work, and I do love it here. God bless all of you :o]

Our 27km hike through mud. Yeah, this happened. No, I cannot completely clean my clothes since this.

Lizzy & I. You will never see me look this happy to be hiking again.

AFRICA :o]

It’s Christmas Eve, and I am back at Tendaba. Today, to help keep our minds off the fact that it was Christmas Eve, they had us all go on a 27km trek through the African wilderness. Sound easy? Yeah, I thought so as well, until I devoured two spam sandwiches before 11:30am and proceeded to have insane diarrhea underneath a tree in the middle of a rice paddy. Yeah, it happened. TWICE. I had Liz take guard, as in, don’t let the rest of the 25 people in our group walk down the road as I am attempting to find a prime area to completely unleash a demon. Pretty brutal.

The scenery was breathtaking and we had a good time overall. My legs are wicked sore right now and the blisters on my foot aren’t exactly attractive, but I got in an amazing shower and I feel GREAT. I’m planning on posting a video of Marnie getting stuck waist-high in mud… she drops the F bomb every two seconds because she was terrified that she was going to die, but I find it pretty humorous. Needless to say, I am a Mountain Woman… minus all the hair.

I got to talk to my mum and brother tonight, which was amazing :o] The owner of Tendaba allowed us a few free drinks, and Mike, our Country Director, sent up a bag full of Christmas cookies and cakes. DELICIOUS. You would be amazed at how good ‘American’ food tastes after you have lived off rice. I’m not even 2 months in! I’m in big trouble…. :o]

Right now, Lizzy and I are lotioning up our pathetic feet. I will write more later… Merry Merry Merry Christmas everyone, I love you all so much!

January 6th, 2009

Happy New Year :o]

I haven’t written in awhile because I have been so busy, but wanted a chance to write about my day today. I am currently sitting on the floor at the Peace Corps Transit House in Basse. 2 days ago, we traveled to our sites to visit before our last 10 days in Kombo/swearing-in ceremony. My host family is absolutely amazing; instead of paying rent, I will purchase a bag of rice every 2 months for the family. This is truly astounding, and I am so grateful for them. I live in a round hut, and my backyard is HUGE! I have a ton of cockroaches in my pit latrine [not the best] and I had to fix part of my fence, but that’s fine. Yesterday, I opened my door to welcome the day, and a dog comes bounding in, wagging his tail and licking at my palms. Since then, he has not left my side. He is very well-kept, with a gorgeous roan coat and pale yellow-brown eyes. He follows me about Kuraw and chases the donkeys.

Oh, before I forget --- LOADS of horses in Kuraw. That is amazing, they ride them, they treat them well, I am in heaven and plan on shipping one home. Mum, be ready.

So, onto my day today. Bakary came to my site to help negotiate with my family meals, rent, and laundry. We were told a car would be picking us up at 5:30 this morning, and to be ready. I spent the night anxiously awaiting the dawn, hearing mice scurry around my head and listening to the deep breathing of Dean Pritchard at my feet [my dog. Anyone who knows me knows where that name came from]. By the time 5:00am crawled around, my bags were packed and I was ready. I was donning pants, a tank top, a hoodie, and my raincoat. Needless to say, I thought I was freezing; a quick look at the thermometer had me feeling my head: 72 degrees. I have a problem… and it is Africa.

I literally sat on my bamboo bed for 2 hours waiting for Bakary. He finally strolled in as my family began stirring around 7:30am. The car had not shown up, and we were to walk the 2km to Diabugu and try to get a GeleGele. Okay, I thought. No problem. We’ll just load up everything and hit the road, Jack. And off we walked, down the dusty road, greeting the pink African sun as it rose from its’ slumber.

[Time to paint a quick picture: I had 2 backpacks, a purse, and a big plastic bag that contained my mosquito net. One backpack was on the front of me, one was on the back, and I was carrying the plastic bag while the purse was slung over one shoulder. I looked a hot mess.]

Dean Pritchard bounded happily after us, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he chased after white birds that were freakishly large in size. The dusty road became incredibly tiring as Diabugu ceased to come in sight. 2 km is not far, yes I know this. Try strapping about 90 pounds to your body. Yes, I know I need to learn how to pack lighter. I realized this about 15ft from my door.

Finally, we reach Diabugu, where the policemen inform us that all 10 gelegele’s left at 6am. It is currently 8am. We are told they might all come back around 9 or 10am. Bakary hoists a bench onto his shoulders and carries it to the side of the road, and tells me to sit. Dean Pritchard curls up at my feet and promptly falls asleep. I drop my bags behind me and slump on the bench. I look around and think, probably for the millionth time since being here, This is Africa. Soon, 2 donkeys come strolling up beside us. The one in front has a rope tied to its’ front hoof and is currently tripping over it with his back hoof. Every 3 paces this happens, as if on cue. I notice the second donkey and poke Bakary.

“What’s on that donkey’s foot?” I asked.

“Why, it looks like he is wearing someone’s shoe!” Bakary exclaimed.

Sure enough, the donkey had stepped on some child’s plastic sandal and it had somehow climbed up his hoof and was strapped somewhere near his ankle. It was hilarious. Bakary and I laughed for a good 5 minutes about this, and I seriously debated on whether I was going crazy or not. I think I probably am.

After about an hour, a motorbike pulls up and Bakary speaks quickly to the man in mandinka. The woman on the back hops off, and Bakary looks at me, says, “Get your bags, you’re going to Basse.” Um, okay. WHAT?!

“But what about you?” I ask, trying to gather my things and wondering if I should take off one of my fifteen layers, as I am breaking out into a sweat because it’s well past 80 degrees and I am dressed for a nor’easter.

“I will try to get a gele. I must get Elizabeth in Darsalami, we cannot leave her.” He answered.

“Okay, but you’re leaving me! How will I find you?” I exclaim, as the man is strapping one of my backpacks to the back of his motorbike. At this point, I am slightly panicking. The Africell network is down and has been for 2 days, Basse is a huge city and I have no idea who this man is that I’m about to put my life into his hands.

“Well actually, you’re leaving me. And it’s okay, this man knows the police,” he answers, as if that will reassure me. Next thing I know, I’m on the back of a motorbike with a Gambian and we are puttputting into the distance. Dean Pritchard trotted off behind us happily for about 3 k and then turned around and headed home.

Everything was going fine until the man in front of me [still don’t know his name] ducks and I wonder what he is ducking for. Then I get hit in the face with a branch. Ohhhhhkay, I think. I’m having enough problems with acne over here, now I have a thorn in my face. That’s fantastic. Trust me, I’ve never looked better.

After about 40 minutes, we arrive to the river. We climb into a large metal canoe-type of boat and are transported across, motorbike and all. We end up getting to Basse and have to stop at the Police Stop. They interrogate the poor man [who, might I add, charged me nothing to bring me here] about who I was. He mentioned the Peace Corps, and then they asked for his registration.

“Bring the toubab into town and then come back here.”

All right, this is just fantastic. I am dropped off in the heart of Basse, in front of a Moritanian shop. At this point, I am literally soaked in sweat, and yet I do not take off any of my many layers of clothing. Instead, I put my backpacks back on, yes I understand I looked pregnant, and yes I knew there was a big chance I was going to get pickpocketed.

The Lord was with me today, as none of the above happened. I found a small ‘restaurant’ and completely ravished through a meat and mayo sandwich that was covered in flies. I thought it was delicious.

The man who owned the shop asked me my name and was interested in my story. I explained the events of the morning; he could not believe I was in Basse with no one to help me. “If you wait just a few moments, I could bring you to the Peace Corps house. It is about one kilometer in that direction, but I have my motobike.” Okay, sure, why not. I’ve already done several illegal things today, why not add more to the list? Perfect stranger that wants to bring me somewhere on his bike? Sure, sounds great. Truly. Let’s trust him.

Sure enough, I hop on the back of this motorbike [I am a pro at this point], a bit queasy from the greasy sandwich [still not sure what kind of meat that was? Hopefully not testicle again! Although I could not smell wet cat so I’m sure that wasn’t it] and hoping that I will not die.

We ZOOM off. I am talking insanely fast. There was no puttputting. This man FLEW. After about 3km, I start to get nervous. Okay, he said 1k away…. I’m going to die, he’s going to bring me into the African bush and rape me and then possibly eat me.

Nope, he was just lost. We found the Peace Corps house, and now I am here. WHAT A MORNING.

…this part written later: Lizzy and I have ventured into town 3 times today and had 3 separate sandwiches. This is becoming a problem. Is it really a wonder that I’ve sat on the latrine with gripping stomach pains and GI problems 4 times today? Not at all.

Our last walk into town was around 4pm. Everyone was closed up for prayer, and as we are scurrying through the heart of Basse, I hear a voice.

“Hey, hey you! Did you find your friends?” Sure enough, it was the nice man who had given me a ride. We conversed with him for a bit, asking if he knew where we could get sandwiches. “Well, everyone is closed up for prayer, but if you would like, I could open mine and send my small boy to get eggs! Would you like that?”

Well, TIA again. We just had the most amazing egg omelet and fried onions with mayo sandwich EVER. This man is definitely my new best friend.

I must get to bed now as I am tired and we are leaving around 7am tomorrow back to Kwinella. I have received 3 phone calls these past 2 days from my host sister and father, saying they miss me and I promised to stop in and see them…. As well as my Gambian boyfriend, Ismila Samiteh :o] Who resembles Taye Diggs very strikingly so…. But this is a story for another time. I shall write more later.

Lots of love and prayers to you all!

Well, it’s the day after Christmas, and once again, I had another dizzy attack this morning at 5am. To keep all of us sane, we decided to have a big slumber party at Marnie’s [they had us bike home around 3 on Christmas Day]. We were all feeling a little homesick, so it was nice to be together. I got up 3 times during the night to go pee, and then at 5am on the dot, I woke up to my world completely ending. I wanted to die. I am pretty sure I screamed/started moaning, because Lizzy and Marnie came rushing into the living room area and there I was, on the floor, pretty much naked, sweating, writhing on the floor. Sound pretty? It wasn’t. It was disgusting. I broke out into the most insane sweat, my head was on fire, the rest of my body cold… the girls were freaking out. Then, of course, I got violently ill… I was like, someone needs to help me get out of this house before I throw up all over Marnie’s nice linoleum floor. Poor Lizzy, she literally had to carry me to the latrine area where I completely wanted to end my life. My world was spinning, my stomach was cramping, I was sweaty and hot and wanted to die. After that, I dragged my sleeping bag outside and crawled into it by the latrine, not leaving until 10am when the sun came out and it started getting hot. Then I crawled back inside and lied on Marnie’s couch until I biked home around 1. And here I am, feeling not the best, but not feeling the worst, either. Just confused, and scared. I wanted to come home so bad today… I can’t even begin to describe how awful the dizziness is. I literally feel like I am dying. I don’t know what’s going on and that scares me, considering I am thousands of miles [and an ocean] away from home.

Anyway. Bedtime is usually my favorite part of the day, but now I am terrified to go to sleep, because that’s when the dizziness comes. If it would just come and go away, that’d be one thing, but it completely consumes my entire day. Not so fun. And I’m getting a bit sick of crying/wanting to be home. I just need to be well, figure this out, and get on with my life here. I am here only. I am here because I want to be, and I do want to make changes and get started on my projects. It would be a shame for something like this to cause me to go home… ugh but if it keeps up, I may start panicking. Coincidence that this always happens on Fridays, 2 days after I take my larium, one day after I eat Durango?

Anyway. I hope everyone had an amazing Christmas :o]

Just a quick blurb --- not the best day, I did not do as well on the language test as I thought. I bolted out of Babucar’s house and headed straight for Whitney’s where I proceeded to cry on her porch as she was fiddling madly with the lock on her door. I am past being capable of feeling shame. Needless to say, Tammy soon filed in with Brendan on her heels. I have never felt more like I had a family here than I did today. I realize that I was acting absurd but for some reason, it really set me off. They were all there for me in their own ways; in fact, Brendan suggested we have a Christmas party tonight to help cheer me up. Whitney and I biked to Kwinella, bought a kilogram of macaroni, a can of tomato paste, clove of garlic, and 5 loaves of bread. We just made the most amazing pasta dinner ever… Brendan brought white chocolate covered Christmas tree pretzels with green and red sprinkles. He also grabbed some gingerbread cookies he had received in the mail. Tammy showed up with her bag full of Christmas room spray, hot apple cider packets & hot chocolate packets, and her iPod with speakers, tuned to the Christmas genre. We have been rocking out and celebrating Christmas the only way we know how in this hot, tiny village.

Well, time for me to pack this up, we are hooking up Brendan’s PSP to my computer so we can watch Charlie Brown’s Christmas. I am a bit homesick but also feeling so blessed to be surrounded by such amazing people.

I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams….

I AM HOME SWEET HOME AND IT FEELS AMAZING! :o] I am back in the boom and feeling wonderful. I climbed off my bike and little naked Ousman came running up to me, dancing with his pink scarf and saying Mandinkan nonsense in his high-pitched voice. He makes my life here so much better. After giving him a high-five, I immediately asked where Faatu was… and she’s still in Kombo. After talking to my mothers, I found out that she is still really ill and they aren’t sure what her status is or when she will be home. This breaks my heart… I love this little girl. I miss her constant company amongst this herd of boys that my compound is composed of.

Anyway, on to a lighter topic. I talked with my family for almost an hour today, and it was HEAVENLY. I am in the most amazing mood, which usually is foretelling sickness [for further evidence, see below posts. Notice any coincidences? I rest my case]. Marse is doing amazing, she’s really doing wonderfully with the modeling gig and I am SUPER proud of her. She wrote a 23-page thesis that my mum edited [there are so many reasons why my family is extraordinary!] and she finished her finals last week. Zeke-o just finished finals a few days ago and is home as well. I have such respect for him, he is bearing an incredible load of science and math classes. I don’t know how he does it… I wish I had half of his intelligence! So proud of you too, Zeke. You’re in such a difficult program and you’re working hard… I just might have to put a post on your Facebook wall about it. Haha. “God Kasey, you’re such an idiot!”

So I am sitting underneath my bednet and I can hear the crickets outside. I just had white rice for dinner and some baobob crackers. I highly recommend Googling a baobob tree, they are very interesting. The fruit looks like it has a tail and it is fuzzy. Inside is chalky and the people make it into a drink. It’s wicked good for you and has a ton of nutrients but I can’t handle the tail, or the fact that you have to climb trees to get them.

Speaking of which, saw a pack of monkeys the other day when I was biking to Bambako! A whole 25ish of them went sprinting across the road not even 16 feet in front of me. It was unreal! Definitely reminded me of where I was :o]

Well, sadly enough I am tired and need to catch up on my sleep. I have a busy day of language learning tomorrow… and I am proud to say that I think I completely aced my language test yesterday. I should know my results tomorrow! :o]

I hope everyone is in the Christmas spirit and loving life as much as I. God be with you.

I’m seriously not loving being here at Tendaba. I love my roommates and being with everyone, but I really miss my host family. And I’m concerned about Faatu and hope she is doing okay… I’m at the point where I can’t remember what I’ve written and what I haven’t, so long story short: she’s really sick and is in Kombo. I’ve heard nothing since they took the GeleGele on Wednesday. She better be back and in nothing but good health when I return home to Bumari.

[Quick definition of a GeleGele: think of an old school Volkswagon bus used as a ‘bush taxi’. Fill it to the maximum with Gambians and Senegalese. Stack large piles of plastic chairs, luggage, goats, rams, sometimes even sheep on the top of this bus. VERY dangerous… we’ve had several tip over. I am determined to get a picture, it’s ridiculous and borderline insanity… and by that I mean, it is PURE INSANITY].

Lizzy and I had our first language session with Ida today to learn our second language, Sarahule. A little overwhelming, considering we have our second language test in Mandinka in 2 days. I’m excited to be learning about all the different groups in the Gambia and to become fluent in their languages, but it’s a lot to take in at once. I mean, in less than 3 weeks we will be by ourselves in a village with no language or cultural facilitator. On our own. YIKES! I’m terrified yet super excited all at the same time.

Just wanted to write a quick blurb before I headed off to get dinner. YUMMM. Still can’t believe I’ve lost 9 pounds since being here, what with everything I eat.

Well, I’m back at Tendaba and I am drunk blogging. Over here in the Gam, they sell such things as Gin, Whiskey, and Brandy packets at bars for 5 dalasi each… which in American money totals about twenty cents. Needless to say, when we went on one of our field trips to Soma, a bunch of people stocked up on gin packets and that was my dinner tonight. Sometimes, you just need a piece of home… even if it comes in a little plastic bag.

I guess I should start by describing Tendaba. Basically, it is a camp in a small village in The Gambia. It is right on the river and is full of mosquitoes. There are a bunch of huts and motel-style rooms, with a few buildings [used for training purposes], a couple bars [excellent], and a kitchen/buffet/dinner area. I’m not a huge fan of the place itself, but I love being around everyone again. I have made such amazing bonds and relationships with so many of my fellow trainees that I feel so blessed to actually have them in my life, even though I’ve known them for not even 2 months.

ANYWAY. Received some mail today, a few packages and a card from Andy. A little heart-wrenching… but something I needed to read. I guess I have a few things to say. One, I’m in this for the long run. I don’t plan on coming home anytime soon. This is something that has taken root inside my heart and it has blossomed into this amazing need. I’m here, and I’m going to do what I set out to do; I need to just find the means to do it.

This isn’t to say that I don’t miss home, because I do at times, however, I don’t have any desire to be home. It sounds awful… but I’m here for a reason, and it feels right.

Anyway, I’m going to head back down to the bar.

Love love loves.

I’ve been reflecting a lot lately on my Peace Corps process. I remember panicking more than once, worried that they would not want me to serve. I asked my mother on more than one occasion, “What will I do if they don’t want me?” I put my everything into coming here to serve, banking my entire life on this one decision that would either make or break my very near future. It’s crazy to think of it now, as I am here, sitting here writing about a time when I was terrified one day and excited the next. I can adamantly say that so far, nothing has happened like I thought it would, and I am very glad about that. Every experience I have undergone has tested me, who I am, and the very core of my being. I feel as if I have proved myself on more than one occasion. It truly sounds ridiculous and I can admit that, but it is also something that cannot be understood unless you go through it. Again, I’m sorry for the absurdity of this. I have a lot of thoughts in my head and it’s rather difficult to unscramble them.

Basically, I didn’t realize just how much I was capable of doing until I got here. I rely so much on myself, and on God, that it is extraordinary. The past week has been very trying, where I have had diarrhea 15+ times a day. I have been weak, lost weight because I couldn’t eat, and was all-around miserable. Still, I pushed through and went on the field trips, did my work, spent time with my family. Took matters into my own hands, stayed hydrated… it’s scary to be sick over here because you have such a lack of resources. The nurses told me to change my diet but it’s nearly impossible. All I have to eat here is rice and potatoes. So, I dove into the granola bars my mum sent me [thanks mum! They’re delish].

I sent my mother a letter about a week ago. I am hoping she types it out and posts it or forwards it to everyone, as I wrote a lot about my experiences so far. I wish everyone were here to feel what I feel. It is different every second of every day, and the process of taking just one small step on the African soil can cause me to have epiphanies. But I am truly in love with this place, this situation that I am in, the journey I am on. I’m glad you are all able to be on it with me :o]

Know that you are all in my hearts and prayers, always. If anything, I pray more than ever…. Perhaps it’s because my host father is the imam, or because people around me pray 5 times a day :o] But regardless. I reflect a lot on my home life, and while I miss certain superficial things [ie. Snow, Christmas, decorations, songs, food], I honestly don’t have a physical desire to be home. I know this will probably change and it’s only been 5 weeks, but it’s been a difficult 5 weeks. And not to get on my soapbox but, I’m kind of proud of myself.

Anyway, I’m at Babokar’s right now with Whitney listening to Christmas music. I’m about to make some hot chocolate and put this thing away, my battery is at 38% and quickly dying. I spoke on the phone with my mum today and it was wonderful. I love her so much and couldn’t do this without her continuous support, as well as the support from my sister and brother [although Zeke, if Chase answers the phone again when I phone you and he calls me ‘dear’, I’m going to kill him].

You’re all in my hearts…. Merry Christmas & Razzleberry Dressing :o]

[this next part was written 2 hours later]

I am back at Babokar’s. I was served dry cous with a side of ram testicle soup for lunch, so Tammy and I are making EasyMac on the gas ‘stove.’ I wish I was kidding. I tried one piece of testicle, couldn’t get past the fact that it was slimy-chewy and smelled like dead, wet cat, and came up here.

Oh, This Is AFRICA.

I went to an RCH Clinic today and it was absolutely amazing. From 8-noon I rotated shifts between weighing babies, de-worming them [not easy, I came home with a bunch of vomit on my pants], giving them their vitamins, watching injections be given, and giving pre-natal exams with pregnant women. I cannot even begin to describe how extraordinary this experience was. It was probably the first time since being here that I actually felt as if I was doing something, instead of observing the wonder going on around me.

We arrived around 8 this morning and there was a group of women with babies/children under the age of 5 sitting on benches waiting for us. When the RCH nurse showed up, it was instant chaos; Sarah, one of the PCV’s who is leaving in April, was like, “Okay, who wants to weigh babies?” I instantly raised my hand and a baby was thrust into my arms. Analyzing their immunization cards and noting their weight change was fun, albeit crazy-hectic at times. Trying to explain in Mandinka that their baby has lost an extreme amount of weight in only a month was difficult… most women would not tell you their child was sick unless you came right out and asked.

During a pre-natal visit with one expectant mother, another mother rushed in with her 2 week old baby girl swaddled in fabric. Pushing aside the cloth, she showed the midwife her child was completely covered in a bacterial skin infection and was refusing to nurse. It was heartbreaking. The most the midwife could do was prescribe hydrocortisone cream and send her on her way… and recommend a legit clinic/hospital. The rest was left in the mother’s hands.

A pre-natal exam for a pregnant woman over here consists of the following:

1. Get Weight. Most of these women were 7 months along and I weighed a good 15 pounds more than them. A bit disturbing…. I need to lay off the rice.

2. Blood pressure. We were taught how to do this, and it is an old-school BP machine, also difficult to hear the pulse with hundreds of screaming children in the room next door.

3. Bring the woman into the next room, have her lay down. The nurse can tell how far through her term a woman is by the position of the bellybutton. She would then place her fingers on the bellybutton and count the length until it reached the sternum. If the woman was 36+ weeks along she would grab the head of the baby [or at least search for it]. We were able to do this… to feel the baby’s head from outside the womb. Very intense! Amazing.

4. Try to find baby’s heartbeat.

5. Depending on how far along, give her vitamins and anti-malaria medicine.

Yup, that’s it. Pretty astounding! These women are incredibly resilient. Honestly. I am still in shock over the things I saw today.

Anyway, I am off to make neem cream with my host family. Neem leaves are off a tree and act as a natural mosquito repellant. By creating a lotion, people here are more likely to use it. So off to do my second good deed of the day :o]

Love & hugs…. And completely happy & content with where I am & what I’m doing right now…

Ps. Marsey goes for a hair modeling audition today at 2pm! I am so excited for her and wish I was home to experience this with her. I will patiently await her phone call tonight around 8pm :o] love you sissy!!!!

Yesterday, I wanted to die.

Truly.

I awoke at about 5am and my world was rocking. Not spinning, but rocking violently. I was clutching the bed with all my might and still felt as if I may fall off. When the rocking finally subsided, my body became instantly hot and I broke out into a cold sweat. Within minutes I was crashing through my door and into my backyard, grabbing at my bucket to hurl in. And upchuck I did. To all of you who have had to hold my hair back as I am crying, whining, complaining about not feeling good and “I can’t puke it just won’t come up”…. You would have been proud yesterday. No tears, just an insane amount of rice. This happened 4 times [with the dizziness]. The second time I awoke to my world rocking, I was throwing up so hard that I nearly went in my pants. So as I am vomiting, I am dragging the bucket to my latrine and voila! Both ends at once. Did you know that’s possible? Well, it is. One of my moms was outside bathing and I could hear her tentatively say, “Saatu?...Saatu saasaa?” Which basically means, Saatu’s sick? Oh yes, I was.

Needless to say, I was a whole bucket of misery [pardon the pun] yesterday. Marnie ended up coming over around 11am and made me some Gatorade and brought me some crackers. I finally stopped throwing up around 1 but the diarrhea has yet to cease, even today. Lucky, lucky me!

Sorry Zekeo for calling and waking you up at not even 6am making you get mom. I guess I haven’t changed in that aspect :o]

Anyway, by 4 last night I was feeling 100x better. Liz and I biked to Bambako and we spent the night at Marnie’s. She has got some insane animals at her place. At around 5am [just before the PA system went off and just after Mice Wars 2008 occurred in her ceiling] a donkey came barreling through her compound braying as loudly as can be. What was on its’ tail? A dog, barking as if he’d lost his head. Absurd, I tell you! But entertaining nonetheless.

I came back this morning so that I could have a one-on-one with Bakary at 8am. I’ve been doing work since 9, getting caught up on what I missed yesterday and just generally trying to get ahead. I’m battling with some homesickness today for some reason. Maybe it’s because I know tomorrow is the first day of December and it doesn’t feel like it. I’m listening to Christmas music right now, but it doesn’t feel the season. I need to find a tree to decorate.

Oh, yeah. Amidst my cleaning this morning, I found a mountain of maggots in my house. FILTHY. I am no longer the girl you once knew…. Between the ants, mice, cat turds, bed bugs, mosquitoes, diarrhea/vomit at the same time, maggots…. Man. How could I not have changed??

Today I walked through fields of gold.

I couldn’t help but think of that song by Sting as Whitney, Brendan and I decided to go exploring in the fields. The deeper we went into the African Savannah, the higher the golden rice grew. Soon, the path had dwindled into a mere spindle and I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. The setting sun cast a golden glow on the heavenly meadow around me, & I was content.

I haven’t written for a few days because I’ve been in Tendaba since Monday going through intensive training. It was wonderful to be with everyone again, but I am not a huge fan of the place. To put it bluntly, it was ant-infested. The river was beautiful [as was all the scenery] but the room I actually stayed in with Marnie was God-awful. I was standing in the bathroom [which is basically a toilet, a sink, a drain, and a hand-held shower head attached to a tube] showering when I noticed massive hoards of ants seeping out of the tiles. I screamed [seems to be my new thing], for everywhere I turned, there was a colony of ants running towards me [do ants run? YES THEY DO].

“Marnie, GET IN HERE!” I yelled, attempting to cover up my boobs with my hands and my other unmentionable with the loofah sponge.

“Are you good?” Marnie asked back.

“JUST GET IN HERE!”

She busted through the door, stares, and goes, “I had no idea you had your belly button pierced!” I just about flipped, pointing to the wall. She proceeded to allow a whole slew of swears to come out of her mouth, said, “That is absolutely disgusting,” and then we moved into the med unit. Pretty much that sums it up. Lizzy, Marnie and I crashed there nearly every night. Thank goodness for small miracles… and I missed Bumari and my host family.

My site is Kuraw Arafang. Swear-in date is January 15th, 2009. I am super-close to some of the most amazing people I have ever met. COME VISIT. I need my home people to meet my PC people.

Well, one of my host moms just brought in my dinner… Durango, DELICIOUS [peanut sauce drizzled on rice]. I am so happy to be back here and eating her food again. It’s amazing.

Miss you all, and hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I will write more later :o]

I think it’s entirely too early for me to be feeling this drained already. Maybe I’m getting sick, or maybe I’m already sick of seeing such sickness around me. Yesterday we were drinking aataayah in Tammy’s compound and playing the Gambian version of Crazy 8’s. There was a little boy, probably 5 years old, who had ‘sick eyes.’ He was just standing there, sniffling, his eyes duller than dull. I looked at him, said, “Naa sii” [come sit], and he crawled into my lap. It was instant heat… I am not kidding, the kid was burning up. I am no judge of temperatures but he was well over 103. I just snuggled up to him, rubbed his back, and tried to not focus on the fact that we’d already had one little child pass this past week. I’m not ready for another one.

Not to mention last night I was fishing around in my suitcase for my pajama bottoms when I came across a mouse. Since when am I afraid of mice? I screamed bloody murder and refused to get out from under my bed net. I had to pee and finally crawled out of bed around 1:30am to squat over the latrine. I could hear that blasted thing chewing on my notebooks and I was IRATE…. I finally put my iPod on and fell asleep that way. This morning I completely cleared out my room and suitcases trying to find the wretched rascal… in its’ place, I found mounds and mounds of mouse poop. Ugh.

I am more than ready for a cold bucket bath and sleep, but I have an insane amount of work that I need to get done. And I am yearning for first snowfalls, snowflakes on frosty windows, and twinkling lights on verdant Christmas trees.

Missing home.

Today started out like every other day has been for me. I first awoke to the sound of my host father’s voice booming over the loudspeaker at 5am, calling all fellow worshippers to join him in the mosque for the first prayer of the day [I live with the imam. He is wonderful]. I dozed off to the quiet Koranic humming until I heard the shifting of morning activity around 7am. My host mothers were gathering rice and beginning to pound it so they could make rice porridge for breakfast. This is usually when I attempt to climb out of my bed, dust the lingering bugs off my body, and walk out into my backyard.

The view never ceases to amaze me. I have taken several pictures but feel as if they don’t do it justice. I cannot begin to explain how amazing it is to take a shower outside, to the sweet melody of birds and to enjoy the majestic view of the African sun crawling over the horizon. Breathtaking.

I then walked the dusty path to Bakary’s house [my language facilitator/professor]. All was going well as we did our daily morning lessons, when suddenly we heard a scream. Hoards of people began running in the direction of my compound, and Bakary immediately followed.

When he came back, he has a somber look on his face… my host sister, Fatou [lovingly nicknamed LeLe], had died en-route to the clinic in Kwinella. The screaming was that of one of my host mothers. I was completely distraught; while I have only been in this village 5 days, this news was enough to break me. Fatou was only 2 and I didn’t realize how sick she truly was. Kwinella is 2km from Bumari [the village I am in]. To think they were steps away from a doctor shakes me to the core… this life could have been spared.

Needless to say, the funeral was the most heart-breaking thing I have ever been through. The women and men are separated… I was sitting adjacent my host mothers but was blocked by a tin door. After the prayers that were led by the men, several women began wailing. I got goosebumps and several of the PCV’s with me began crying. My mother began screaming, “Why, Why, Why?!” and it just did me in.

And now, I sit on my floor in my hut. My compound is quiet, too quiet. Doors are shut that are usually open like loving arms. The children are not running joyously about, kicking my pink soccer ball around the yard. Even the goats have stopped their bleating.

I feel terribly alone, and so sad. It is incredibly difficult, trying to give my condolences to my family, and having this steep language barrier.

I’m not sure when I will be able to post this entry, but I had to write it out while everything was fresh in my mind. These are the times when I miss home, and my ability to express emotions with people who understand me.

I miss you all terribly.

We had our naming ceremony today! My Mandinka name is Saatu Demba, and I absolutely love it. We were all dressed up in beautiful Gambian clothing, were given pancatos [which are like doughnuts…heavenly!], and then danced. Fun, entertaining, and interesting… the entire village showed up for this, so it was pretty cool.

After that, we had a few hours of language training, and then Brendan and I decided to do some goat-hunting. He has the cutest little white goat in his compound [and he still has his umbilical cord, so he’s super young]. We were playing with him and I named him Mustafa. Now everyone in Brendan’s compound calls him that as well… it took me forever to get the kids to understand that I was not going to call him ‘Baba’, which is mandinka for goat.

I’m wiped, it’s not even 8pm and I’m ready for bed…. So off I go.

Well, now that I’m in a better state of mind, I feel as if I can write about what’s been going on. Yesterday was incredibly overwhelming, hence the fact that I only wrote in list-style. Yesterday was the Big Bang. Yesterday was the “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” Yesterday was the epiphany that I was actually in Africa. Maybe it had to do with the fact that four of us were dropped off at this random village, surrounded by several children. We turned to look back at our bus as it sped down the dusty road and on to the next village… I can only imagine what our faces looked like.

I used the latrine! I made sure to bring my can of bug spray with me and attacked those neon-green flies the second they came out. Rather interesting, actually. And when I have to go numero dos, or have to 7667, or ‘doughnut’, I throw on my headphones and just hang out. That way, I don’t hear everyone having conversations in mandinka around me and forget that there are people gardening less than 2 feet away. Yikes! It’s a lot harder than it seems, let me tell you!

I talked with Liz and Marnie last night. My compound is the middle destination point between all three of our villages. Marnie is under a mile from me [thank you Jesus!] and Liz is about 3 miles in the other direction. I think Liz is going to bike over tomorrow, we have a lot of free time and all three of us seem to be a little overwhelmed, to say the least.

I can’t get over putting bleach in my water. I was told it’s the same as drinking pool water, but I don’t go out and dunk my head under the chlorinated pool and guzzle. I know I need to start drinking more but…. Yechhhh!!

The bed net. I don’t even know where to go from there. I dreamt all night that I was in a coffin. We’ll just leave it at that.

Today has been super mellow. We ate breakfast together [my family made rice with peanuts! I LOVED IT. It tastes like the oatmeal I ate every morning in radiation!]. Then Brendan, Whitney, Tammy and I walked to Kwinella with Kate [she is a PCV who is approaching completion of service next week]. Kwinella is about a mile’s walk and the scenery is beautiful. I took pictures so be ready for me to post some soon!

I am incredibly thankful to my host family, even though they cannot understand a word I say to them. I live right next to the cook of the Peace Corps, so my meals are AMAZING. Ps. It’s just like National Geographic here, if you get my drift. I am totally going to be walking around topless soon. Just you wait!!!!

Well, I’m going to go out into the heat and find my family to see if I can practice more of my language skills. Wish me luck… as I am sure I will need it. Miss all of you so much!!!!

November 14th, 2008

Things That I Learned On My First Day in a Real Village:

1. Bed nets do not work. Tuck them under your mattress all you want… be prepared to share your sheets with a few spideys and other interesting creatures.

2. You are a foolish Toubab. It doesn’t matter that you’ve graduated college with a bachelor’s degree and can spell anything in the world; the fact of the matter is, you have no idea what these people are saying to you and you pee everywhere BUT in the latrine. Epic failure.

3. Do not eat your dinner on the floor. Do not continue chewing your rice if you bite into something crunchy… it is not a spare bean, it is not an undercooked piece of rice, it is a BEETLE and it is NOT how you should be getting your protein.

4. Cockroaches can fly. Most of the time, directly at you.

5. Inviting the local children into your house once means they will come in whenever they want, whether you are attempting a bucket bath or not.

6. Why would they call it a bucket bath if you can’t fit into the bucket? Splashing water on yourself really doesn’t constitute as bathing. Oh well… swipe on a few more things of Secret and you should be good to go for the time being.

7. Don’t wear tampons [this one coming from Whitney]. They will become lodged inside you and the string will suddenly disappear. You will attempt fishing it out and then your language professor will walk in. Try explaining that one.

8.You will be joyously happy one minute and the next you will be sitting underneath your bed net that doesn’t really net the bugs crying. Hysterically. Convinced you are crazy. Listening to Brandy and KCi and JoJo and other depressingly sickeningly old school songs.

9. When the nurse tells you to filter your water and then put 2 drops of bleach into it, that doesn’t mean dump in the whole bottle, causing your water to be sweet AND warm and ultimately poisoning you.

10. Convincing yourself that you can do this, that you can stay and go through this amazingly terrifying experience will be the hardest thing you can do. Lean on those who have gone through it before. Text and call your neighboring PCT’s. Share your fears about this blasted latrine. Or better yet, just conquer it. In my case, the most regular person in the world, I cannot go. I just can’t do it. Lord help me when I get dysentery.

Well, I'm here! It has taken me forever and a day to get to a computer/phone. I have been soooo busy but it's incredibly wonderful here. For a place that's incredibly hot, I truly feel at home. Strange? I miss the snow!

Let's see if I can recap these past few days quickly. There are only 4 computers here and I have 5 people waiting.

Brussels airport is CRAZY. We got there early, had a 4 hour layover, no one wanted to tell us what we were doing and by the time we figured everything out, we had 30 minutes. For you who don't want to hear this, toughen up: I had the runs like no tomorrow [stupid cheese lasagna in a box from Belgium... HONESTLY!]. The bathroom stalls there are separate rooms... VERY cool.

Get into Gambia finally, it's about 100 degrees [no lie]. The airport is INSANE, lots of Gambian men talking to you, they want you to be their wives and take your luggage. Very intense.

[RANDOM but the people in the room just mentioned it... could someone please tell my dad that spam is a delicacy here??? I've had it like 6 times. I wish I was kidding!Thanks.]

We arrived at the hotel [GPI - it's for missionaries, we have toilets but no TP... just water kettles. I DONT THINK SO... made friends fast with Marnie who has a whole suitcase full of the goods]. My roommate is super super nice and from Ohio. In fact, everyone is SO nice.

Okay.... basically these past few days have been intense language training. I try to sleep as much as I can but we are up at 6:30am and go straight until 8:30pm [which is when dinner ends]. They try to give us 2 hours of personal time a day but it doesn't really work... or hasn't yet.

Yesterday we went to a reptile farm which was SO cool, lots of huge snakes, turtles, and lizards. OH! Lizards are EVERYWHERE! They're the Gambian version of squirrels, I'm convinced. I'm going to catch one... when I told the guard that at GPI, he yelped and said, "You crazy! They bite!"

We went to the beach on Sunday which was amazing. Took lots of beautiful pictures and have two new nicknames from the boys in the group: Brown Town and Olive Goodness. There's a girl here, Liz, who is part cherokee, Irish, Scottish, and English with a little bit of Mexican. We get along really really well!

Today we went to the market and it was NUTS. A man came up to me trying to sell me a shirt... let's see if I can do this in true Kasey story-telling fashion:

man: Ohhhhh hello nice lady, nice lady. You want to buy nice shirt?

me: uhhh, no thanks.

man: So nice! Looks, so green! [it was hideous. HIDEOUS. I wouldn't SLEEP in this shirt.]

me: I'm sorry but I won't wear that.

man: What about your boyfriend?

me: My boyfriend wouldn't wear that either.

[at this point, David is overhearing our conversation *the big brother of the group* and goes:]

David: Yeah, I wouldn't wear that.

man: Oh, you are her boyfriend?

David: Yes.

man: You are so lucky! I see she is very special. If you miss out on her, you are missing a diamond!

David: Oh yes, I know. She is sooo special.

At this point, I am trying to run AWAY from the man and he follows me.

man: NICE LADY! nice lady with the boyfriend, please buy my shirt! You will be more special if you buy my shirt!

It was borderline nuts but I have loved every minute I have spent here. My only fear is I am missing so much at home. I miss my friends and family so much, it's insane.

By the way, have some requests for LETTERS and toilet paper. Please, please save me from the latrine that I will be facing on Friday.

I am learning Mandinka and have learned so much already! I would type it out but they have funky letters and you probably wouldn't be able to pronounce it anyway but.... welcome or hello is: Salaammaleekum.

My number is: 011 220 706 0791 if anyone wants to call me. I get my phone tomorrow because the one I ordered off pricego.org is TERRIBLE. I GET FREE INCOMING CALLS. If you can call me at least just to get one of my eleven calling cards, I will give you their numbers! SERIOUSLY. Starting tomorrow!!!

I miss you all so much. I have written entirely too much and taken up way too much time but will try to get on here as soon as I can.

Love you all,

Kase

[ps. Greg- super cute PCV here whose boyfriend just broke up with him. We are talking SMOKIN and fantastic. You need to find a way to call me/come visit.]

Well, I made it to Philadelphia! It's currently 9:50am and I have been up since a little before 5. The drive to the airport was fine. I squished myself into Marsey's car and we pretty much rode in silence. Not a lot of tears once we got to Portland; just send me on my way. When I put my bags up on the scale, I was in shock; 140lbs COMBINED! That's more than my entire body weight. I think I was still sleep-deprived, as I passed out before the airplane was in the air and I woke up drooling as we were landing. I am also pretty sure I had been snoring [which NEVER happens], as my mouth was wide open and the old man next to me was staring in horror at the drool smeared across my face.

But anyway.

Navigating through the Philadelphia Airport was interesting. I could not for the life of me find the Holiday Inn Shuttle, I couldn't walk more than 10 feet without stopping to take a breather [thanks, luggage]. So, I attempted to 'hail a taxi'. Yeah. Right. 

Next thing I know, I'm struggling to heave my large bag off the sidewalk towards a taxi when this angry taxi driver crawls out of his car behind me and starts yelling at the cab driver who is helping me. Seen the movie 40 Year Old Virgin? Picture the old guy who works at the store with him who is always saying he doesn't wear a turban on his head and doesn't walk around saying, "Do you want a slurpy?" Except this man had a turban. And my cab driver was Jamaican.

Needless to say, funny yet borderline uncomfortable.

I get to the hotel safely [$29 later!!!!! On top of the $100 mum dished out at the airport for my obese baggage]. I paid the nice taxi driver and tipped him a little extra; "hey lady, this bag is really heavy!" Yes, I know, I see the beads of sweat popping out on your forehead and my arms are still burning.

I got stuck in the circular doors. Does anyone realize how embarrassing this is? IT STOPPED MOVING. I started panicking and this nice Australian man wiggled my 'lighter' bag through the crack and carried it in for me while I tried to shove the doors ahead and push my black bag in. Seriously, I'm going to be in big trouble once I get to Belgium.

Did I mention that the first thing I notice about my hotel is that it's located directly adjacent to the Philadelphia Fire Department? Wonder who that immediately reminded me of. Goodness, I'll be missing you something awful.

Well, it's time for me to find some food [perhaps smooshed pumpkin bread? oatmeal creme pie crumbs?] and attempt to rearrange all my luggage. My goal is to find 40lbs to transfer and stuff into 2 backpacks.

Wish me luck...xox Kase

Well, my first time writing a blog... and what a time to begin! My mum has just stomped upstairs and demanded I finish packing. Whenever I walk into her room and see all my stuff littered on her floor [and NOT in my open suitcase], I get this stab of nostalgia. I have to keep telling myself, I can do this, I can leave everything I know and love to enter a country where I'm going to be surrounded by complete strangers.

They will become family, I know that.

I will be up bright and early tomorrow morning to make my 7am flight to Philly. Saying farewell to my sister and mother is going to be killer.

Signing off now, Jo is on her way over as well as my dad, and so the goodbye's begin! Wish me luck...xoxKase