African Roulette

"Hunger of the body is altogether different from the shallow, daily hunger of the belly. Those who have known this kind of hunger cannot entirely love, ever again, those who have not." -Barbara Kingsolver, The Poisonwood Bible

Life in Tenegfara is occasionally like Russian roulette, you never know what your going to get. By this I mean that when I walk down the paths and meet a person, as the social culture embedded in life we greet one another. But I never know what language I'm going to get, you see tenengfara speaks 4 different languages- mandinka(what I am trying to speak), pulaar/fula, wolof, and serehule. I've learned some greetings and basica phrases in all the languages so when I head to the wolof compounds I greet in wolof, this amuses the villagers so much. They laugh hysterically and look at one another saying, did you hear what she said..she said.....as if they all didn't understand me. Although they never say it, I know they greatly appreciate this small gesture I am making to their family, to their tribe, honoring their heritage.

I get by because the main language is Mandinka, most can speak it to some extent, however, fluently or broken it may be. But there are some who don't speak a word- they will greet in their respective language as others greet back in Mandinka. Any language goes. I learn which compounds speak which languages and go in greeting in that language- when communication fails you grab the nearest small child because most of them speak all 4 fluently- guess that's just what happens when all your friends come from different tribes. I see a great deal of respect between villagers, if there are 2 men who speak all 4 languages but one is fula and the other is serehule they will speak in wolof or mandinka, so there is no preference shown to a particular individual/tribe. Or if they go to one anothers compounds they will greet in the houses tribal language. In a span of 4 minutes sitting on the bantaba (local wooden platform/hang out spot) all 4 languages will be going on with various translations happening for those who are not multi-lingual. Its amazingly calm and utterly calumnious at the same time.

It also drives me crazy, work is hard enough to get accomplished with one language barrier, simply going to the water pump your going to have to get some one to translate to or for you. Meetings that I hold with the men and womens' groups have to be translated at least 3 times. We run on African- slowness but also the slow speed of 4 language translations. And simple things become more difficult- even though I know the words for all the things in the bitik, the bitik owner is fula and doesn't understand a great many things in mandinka, so I still end up pointing to certain items. Although this does give me a certain degree of comfort when I travel because you will run into many language barriers when you travel.

Its not just the language that causes barriers, its the culture of the tribes. For example, the wolofs have a certain way of doing things that the fula's don't do. So to get a job accomplished you have to find a meeting point not only in language understanding but in cultural understanding, the role of mentor and mediator constantly comes into play. Another aspect to the tribal difference is a great benefit to my experience here. All the naming ceremonies and marriages have different cultural elements, a wolof naming ceremony and a fula naming ceremony have many differences. Serehule weddings and wolof weddings don't even compare. Its a very cultural diverse atmosphere and I just try and stay open so that I can soak it all in, and hope that the memories bond themselves to my being so that when I leave this home for my next one, the things these people have taught me will be part of who I am.

Its like a tiny united nations making sure that all the tribes are happy and understand whats going on and agree to it, also knowing the strengths and weaknesses of a certain tribes thinking and action helps the work go easier- for example the wolofs out of all the people in tenengfara are the most open to change and have this attitude of 'lets try this and see what happens.' When I have seeds to plant that are foreign to them, they come to my door asking for them, or they tell me that they have fed moringa to their kids 4 times this week after I suggested it was one of the most nutritious items available for their diets. Of course, all this conversation has to come through translation and as they get accustomed to my western strange white ways of doing things and of thinking, I slowly slip into my Gambian self, and sometime pause in moments to think of what my friends and family would say if they could see me now.

"Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, and not-yet, and not at all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserved and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists....it is real...it is possible... it's yours." - Ayn Rand Atlas Shrugged

Outing with the Tenengfara Ladies

The first week I arrived at site, last May, my first task to accomplish was to open a bank account with my women’s group. We had gotten a $5000 USD  emergency relief grant for food aid, and couldn’t access the money without an group bank account.  So knowing almost no Mandinka, I, my counterpart who speaks English and has become my babysitter, and 3 women headed to the bank account about 25K away. Between all the bureaucratic non-sense, getting passport photos of 3 women in the middle of the African bush, paying to open the account, dealing with slight corruption, and directing this entire outing while speaking no local language. Let’s just say it might have been the hardest and most challenging work assignment I have yet encountered as a volunteer. The only things that were getting me through that week, was that the community would get the food it desperately needed and that I would never have to set up another bank account in Gambia again.

That was true until a week ago. I have recently, completely a USAID grant for a community garden complete with a chain-link fence and a well. It is in the process of being approved by DC as PC Gambia has already approved it. Everything was going smoothly, bank account numbers turned in and then I get a call from the office that informs me that any government funds won’t transfer to the bank account we have near village because that bank is considered by the US to be unreliable. Now, yes, the previous money was also from USAID and went to that account, but I was told that it wouldn’t work for this grant, the only option we had was to go to a larger town, farther away with a bank that was approved by the US to transfer funds too. I thought it would be the same set up as the previous time, so I had meetings with the alkahlo and village leaders to request, 650D which is about $14 USD for transport for 2 women and myself. It was actually a huge argument, because to my home-people that’s a lot of money. After about 30 minutes for fighting back and forth between villagers, I had had enough and just said, fine, if you don’t want the garden, then don’t give me the money, I’ll simply call peace corps and tell them that we have changed our minds. Suddenly, everyone was agreeable and the money was given to me.

Early Monday morning, we headed to Soma, about a 2 hour journey once you are on a gelle. I wanted to leave at 7am because the gelles fill up fast, and the earlier gelles tend to stop less often. But everything here moves in Gambian time, which means slowly, and we got to the road around 8:30am, an hour and a half late, not bad. Travel went well, no incidences. We get to soma around 11, and as we are all hungry I treat the women to breakfast of egg sandwiches and tea. Then we head to the bank, the bankers immediately tell me that I need a tax identification number, it’s a new requirement, to open the account. These women can’t own land, officially own nothing that they can pay taxes on, so they don’t have tax ID numbers. The women’s group was registered with the state but they had forgotten the paperwork. And now it wasn’t just 1 passport photo, but 2, and they needed to have ID’s which they had but they had to be a new biometric identification card which the women didn’t have because they hadn’t left tenengfara in a few years. The bank manager absolutely refused to let us open the account, saying that we would have to go home, figure everything out and then come back with the proper paperwork. I was exhausted, I had been dreading this day and this was the last thing I wanted to hear. I told him that while parts of Gambia were moving forward with development and new regulations and rules, there were many areas of the Gambia that were standing still, while the bank had AC and a flat screen TV broadcasting CNN, the village has mud huts and pumps for water. It was a visual divide of the two worlds and it felt so much more powerful when I had two of my women from village with me.  I couldn’t go home empty handed only to have used the villages money for nothing. So I shed a few tears and showed the bank manager my passport and somehow managed to open the account by promising him that I would return with all the proper paperwork, ID’s, and photographs. The account was 500D to open, about $12USD, but much more than I had thought. After the bank was somewhat accomplished, we headed across the road to immigration where we had to fill out paperwork for the women to have their ID’s renewed. They had photos taken, and paperwork stamped which cost 50D, which is so ridicules. The ID’s themselves were 400D. The immigration office was more stressful than the bank; the officers are pumped up with their authority and find it part their jobs to ask me every question about myself, America…blanket harassment at times.  But we got the ID’s renewed, we got the bank account set up even without proper documentation, a few more 100D spent then we thought but it’s all for the garden. And hopefully, my bank account opening days are finished. But this time, I did it without my counterpart, the basics were accomplished in one day, and in this life we just have to focus on the positives. And in the end will be a garden which will increase food security for my village. 

This is Africa

Carrying Water

There are many differences between the 'bush' and the 'city.' Many of them are differentiated by labels such as 'development,' 'civilization,' 'location of food,' 'the beach,' 'rice only,' 'dirty,' bucket showers,' 'showers,' 'pit latrines ' 'taxi,' or 'horse/donkey carts.' In the peace corps world at large the most commonly used terms  are 'posh corps,' and 'peace corps.' Now these are pretty easy distinctions. Posh describes a PCV who lives with amenities, such as, electricity, running water, television, easy access to resources, bottom line the basic comforts of development. Although, to be posh, you usually have to have several of the previously mentioned to count, there are many volunteers who might have only electricity at only certain times of the day while still living in the bush, while this is a luxury, they most likely would not be described as posh posts. While a 'bush' volunteer has none of the previously described. There are benefits and disadvantages to each, living in the bush, you know everyone and everyone knows you, there is a less likelihood of theft, much like a small town in America, there is an element of comfort and security that the rural provides...there are thoughts that if anything serious happened to me my village would run a trial like old times or just go off on whoever had caused me harm...what i'm trying to say is that the village protects their own.  If you live in a more developed area, a volunteer would tend to get 'toubabed' more often, there are challenges such as tourist season, a warping, imitation  and misunderstanding of western cultures which makes communication much more difficult, a exception of because you are white you are rich and thus must give me minti's or money like the tourists do, and a limited wide-spread knowledge of peace corps and its objectives. A bush volunteer would have to carry water for all of their needs, cooking, cleaning, laundry, showering, and ...you're screwed if you run out of water in the middle of a shower or heaven forbid in the middle of a bathroom break...believe me i've done it...but i'm terrible at keeping water in my house. You also have to power all of your movements, and by that I mean many times the only way to get somewhere is walking or biking, there are no opportunities for taxis, but hey if your really in trouble make sure you become friends with someone with a horse or donkey cart so they can get your butt to the road. To get food in the bush, I bike 14 k round trip to a weekly market where I can buy beans, spaghetti, soap, fish(?), seasonal vegetables, second hand clothes like piles of salvation army, which are really fun to look through, soda, milk, coffee, peanut butter, and pasta for the majority of what I buy. In village, I hope that the bitik is open, and I hope that they have bread! At the bitik you can buy tomato paste, onions, garlic, small bags of pasta, mayo, margarine, chocolate sauce, sugar, attaya, oil, candles, cans of condensed or evaporated milk...but just remember that they might not have these things. Larger bitiks have more than smaller bitiks, there is a large bitik 2 k away from me that sometimes has eggs!! So with these things you become really inventive, garlic bread from a frying pan, bean soup, spaghetti sauce from tomato paste, onions, and garlic. When I head into the city, I try to make sure my bag is as empty as possible so I can load up on foods and bring them back home with me.
To get work done, I'm actually pretty lucky in that I have a NGO 14 k trip away which has a generator and get this...wifi, so I can plug in and do grant work...which is where I am right now. But its not as easy as that. For example, one NGO has solar which is FANTASTIC, but if I need to go online I have to use my internet stick which costs do add up fast. The second NGO has a generator but most of the time its broken. So this is how my trips to use power usually go, I bike from home to town, trying to remember to bring water..because the bitiks in town are weirdly always out of water bags and I don't really want to drink the tap water. In town, I check out the NGO situation. ok...so more detailed this is how my morning went. I did remember water, I show up to town really wanted to finish the garden grant I'm working on. One NGO has decided to take the day off because its Tuesday  and why not stay home. The second NGO's generator is broken but they tell me that they are working on it...which in Gambia could mean it will be ready sometime today or maybe sometime next week. No one has come to work yet and its 10:30. So I sit...and I wait. And I get frustrated, so at around 11:30 knowing that I have a fully charged computer from the last time I was at an NGO, I head into the backyard and sit down on the cement, turning on my computer hoping to at least get some work done before the battery dies. I have already hand written essay questions and discussed the detailed budget with my counterpart, so I transfer information from my notebook to the computer. Everyone walking around laughs at the weird white girl who sits around doing work instead of just waiting for the generator. Then at  12:30 they have miraculously fixed the generator and I quickly plug into the power. Like I said before I am actually really lucky to have close by access to power, not many volunteers have that opportunity.
I don't know exactly where I'm headed with this whole blog post except that yeah, things can be really difficult and the basics of living like water supply and access and availability to food are limited at times. (water taps being on of only certain times of the day) And if your lucky enough to have some larger populations nearby you might get an NGO that will let you sit and take advantage of their amenities. In the beginning basics of living were a novelty, like ohh look at me I'm living in Africa in a mud hut and image if my friends could see me carrying water on my head. Then feelings shifted to f-this, there are cockroaches that crawl into my hut and carrying water is a bitch. Emotions have changed recently to, whats the ruffling sound inside of my hut at 2am.. cockroach...grab the nearest shoe..bye cockroach,  and hey mom is the water on at the tap yet?...ok water time because i'm thirsty. The novelty is gone, the period of fighting it is over, and now its just life. Yes, I live in Africa, yes its hot, the basics of living are somehow difficult, there are days that the daydreams of life in America are constant, but I fight to stay mentally here, because I want this, I asked for this, and I'm not going anywhere.
As we approach the one year mark, I set goals for the next year, what I want to get done for my home-people,  what I want to personally accomplish, and where I want to head next. But for now, its all about living and working in a rural African village where I see my siblings growing up so quickly and get teary at the thought of leaving all of this behind. After all, when else am I going to have to carry at least 24 L of water everyday.

Baby

Bureaucratic what-not

This is a spread sheet that PC gives to trainees so that we have an idea of what 'wacked' feelings we have are actually normal, and when they are not so we known when to get ourselves help...kidding....kind of. This list is in general pretty descriptive and does somewhat correspond to the times and emotions of a PCV,  although in one day or one week you can go through all your 27 months in country of feelings. This also doesn't include the happiness or feelings of bliss, so for parents and PC applicants, new trainees just remember that  no one ever lives by the list completely.

Months in Country	Issues	Behaviors/Reactions
1-3	Too much structure, Too much routine, Fatigue	Withdrawal, anxiety, feeling incompetent, nervous, restlessness, irritability, weight and or health changes Coping Strategies:  -explore independence -make plans for first 3 months -visit new site-establish relationships/familiarity with Gambia, PC staff -gather skills for immediate use
4-7	Assignment, separation/solitude, uncertainty of role, Language	Fright, frustration with self, loneliness, weight or health changes, homesickness, uselessness Coping Strategies:  -Develop in-country correspondence- Visit peers/host family- Efforts to establish support links with NGOs and government services- Technical research for future use- Language study- Establish schedule, routine, sense of “home”- Establish hobbies to do in public
8-10	Slow work progress, Language Plateaus, cross-cultural frustrations, Lack of support	Comparison with other PCVs, over-zealousness, home sickness, intolerance with host culture, uncertainties about adaptation Coping Strategies:  -reunions with group/site mates -cards, letters home to forgotten Relationships -talk with friends about slow starts & failures -simple projects: cooking, personal crafts, meetings, garden for self -consolidate friendships
11-15	Mid service crisis, doubt about program, role, self, government, reflections	Impatience with self,  complaining, lethargy, feeling useless, haughtiness with new trainees, confusion in resolving frustrations vs. victories Coping Strategies:  -Plan vacations  -Review work plan; set new goals  -Celebrate one year anniversary  -Find new recreation  -Physical activity: "Get in shape" -Write letters  -Explore better in-country relationships -Return to language study and practice -Visit new volunteers
16-20	Increased and more defined work pace, project work, awareness of time constraints, realization of own limits, post PC considerations	Hyperactivity or apathy, procrastination, self-recrimination, resignation, disappointment, downgrade achievements. Coping Strategies:  -visit new volunteers-physical activity; “get in shape” -focus on relationships in village -re-examine goals and time frame -apply for GREs, write grad schools -explore work possibilities in neighboring villages- look to collaborate on projects with volunteers.
21-23	Project work, awareness of time constraints, realization of own limitations, post pc-considerations,   depression about perceived lack of accomplishment, consideration of extension, checked out	Resignation, downgrade achievements, monument building, withdrawal into work, panic, procrastination, frustration with self, moodiness. Coping Strategies:  - Focus on relationships at site   -vacation/travel -review work plans, assess feasibility -plan “closing out”, & follow-up -work with counterparts on planning for departure, follow-up -collaboration with 1st year PCVs -consider post-PC planning; first draft of resume; 4-Mo. personal calendar
23-27	Trauma of Departure, Concern about social re-entry, Bridging new and former identity, redefinition of career goals, redefinition of host country based on relationships	Fright, confusion, alienation, anxiety, panic, giddiness, impatience, obsession with planning and scheduling. Coping Strategies:  -check on trends, US popular culture amongst Trainees - Job search /Apply for GRE, write grad schools  - do self-analysis: i.e. factors of self-growth; work accomplishment, to consolidate self-confidence -work on self-image -shop for art, crafts, etc. -write friends, make social plans -post-PC travel plans -transfer work skills, area-specific knowledge to trainees - Contact friends at home, make social plans

Welcome 2013!

Tenengfara has started a seed bank for this coming rainy season. Each family sends a 50+ k bag of groundnut to be stored in a building where it waits to be planted. This ensures that there is seed for the coming season- instead of being sold or being eaten, we are starting to think about the future. 

She really did not like that hat being on, even though she looked super cute!

This time of year everyone burns their fields for fear of fire jumping into their compounds. I came home the other day to learn that 4 houses in my village had burned down. This is what happens when fires get out of control, although I wasn't there to witness I heard that every person in the village grabbed a bucket and ran to the nearest tap- this is the african fire department. That evening with fear in their minds, the young men of the village went on weed patrol and burned all the fields. This is the youngesters in my family standing at the front watching the fire.

I went to go help a woman with her onion garden and I returned with a kitty. It doesn't have a name yet, because well I've only had it for 2 days and names are given on day 7 (duhh), he is going to get a naming ceremony. He's a fisty little thing, not wanting to sleep anywhere but on top of me or eat anything besides tuna because hey, its go much better than rice and peanut sauce. He sure does help with those lonely moments of being a volunteer- and he's got to learn to eat rice just like the rest of us, he's a gambian cat after all.