I woke up at 5 AM today after sleeping at 12 from making something for my family. Not done yet, gr. I'm making a kusudama ball - Google it, it's pretty - for them to remember me by when I leave. It's a project that I'll be doing for the next couple of nights in order to complete on time. Ida told me my family always talks to her about how they wish I could permanently stay, Kulari's too far, they'll miss me terribly... and that's awfully nice of them. I'll miss them a lot too, for sure. Anywho, I got ready and everything and was the first person out of my compound at 5:55 AM - the constellation was still sprawled across the sky and the treacherous crossing of the sand dunes got tremendously harder. The PC car came right on time and we drove to a meeting point where I ate a pound of boiled peanuts, no lie, and forced some of it on others so I wouldn't feel so guilty with a graveyard of peanut shells around me. Someone also had Oreos and I stuffed one in my mouth and never felt so happy to have one for breakfast. Elizabeth, being the saint that she is, gave me Tina Fey's new book "Bossy Pants" and I look forward to reading that in two weeks when everything's settled down. We crossed the ferry and THANK GOD I bought something along with me to do because we waited a lot. We drove 1.5 more hours to reach our destination, Jawara, where my emotional buddy's (Kelsey) site is. Along thew ay, we stopped to get breakfast in a populated town called Farafenneh - one of my colleague's sites. There is a bunch of Senegalese traders who sell/stop by there which makes Farafenneh a popular shopping destination in The Gambia. We ran into said colleague's community representative and he even remembered that I spoke Serehule! We also stopped to get the greatest deal ever - a huge watermelon for 25 D and I bought one for my family.
We finally arrived around 11:30 AM. There, we met up with Kelsey and she introduced us to her care group - a mixed gender (rare) group of respected community members who are trained in health techniques with Kelsey and her counterpart (a Gambian who she lives with who actually leads the class while Kelsey sits in the back to contribute) and venture out into the community to teach the village. How incredible and what a gold standard of a care group that was. They had teaching aids that Kelsey helped make (rice bag diagrams), skits, and everything. It was so inspiring. After, we toured around the village to see their pit latrine project which Kelsey helped secure one for every compound that did not have one. After lunch, we were off and finally made it back to Jenoi. We met the group who was scouting our marathon route (very weird and extreme method of bonding for PC The Gambia group) - one of them was Josh - my Serehule site mate from across the river! I spoke to him in Serehule for half a second before getting summoned to head back to training village.
I arrived, fetched water, gave my family the watermelon, took a shower, watered the plants, and went over to Alicia's with Elizabeth to check up on her. We chatted for a while before leaving and I came back to eat the last .5 pounds of boiled peanuts for dinner because dinner was not so delicious tonight. I did laundry, brushed up, and went back out to be with the family for a little bit. I was able to communicate with them that I Couldn't teach tonight because I was so tired and got up very early. I also made them laugh which always feels good because their life is so hard! Even the littlest thing is a good contribution. One of the ladies were in my house when she helped me bring my water in and noticed my Hello Kitty stuffed animal and I had to explain that. They called it my baby and when they asked for her first name, I said "Hello" and "Kitty" for her last name, lol. I seriously have a shit ton to do and it's like final exams all over again. It's the beginning of December and I'm making a Christmas gift for my group and the entire PC staff, making an origami thing for my family, making another origami thing for my friend Rohi, and making ANOTHER origami thing for my teacher, Ida. I have to study for the final exam which I am aiming to score the advanced level. Peace Corps homework is still on the horizon, I'm still in need to prep for a short health talk in Serehule, and I'm prepping for math lessons all the time. AH. Time to get my game face on.
Tuesday, December 10, 2013
Journal Entry 12/3
Today started off real sluggish. I'm never fully awake in the mornings but somehow I made it to Ida's on time and not scraggly looking. We didn't have a formal class today because we had a ton of homework to catch up on (due today, do today) with Ida's help. It was also really clutch to have a Public Health official in my group because she knows what's up. Anyways, our "class" was truncated by Peter the Driver driving/beeping 28 times in case we didn't hear it the last 27 times of his arrival. He always does that, but do trust me that he's a huge sweetheart and will do anything to help the trainees out. We climbed into the car and sped off to... model school!
Model School is one of our bigger assignments where we had to create a lesson plan and teach a health topic in English. The Serehule ladies picked hand washing for the topic and got everything assembled - teaching aids, A+ lesson plans that was created, edited, and activity/question filled, hell Alicia somehow pulled some strings to get our plan printed out! We really did do practically everything to prepare... except for actually practicing it through once. So, we arrived, had a couple of minutes to sit down while the kids ended their break, and got divided into different classrooms. Not going to lie, but the sluggishness from this morning still lingered on me but I guess years of tour guiding helps me get my go-face on in a matter of seconds. So, we went in aaaaaaand pretty much killed it. Class 9C was really the main component to our success - they were comprised mostly of young women in grade 9 with about a handful of young men. Altogether, there was about 30 kids split into 4 rows facing the front. We really didn't prepare for Grade 9 students since our lesson was geared for kids much younger and they all aced their pre-test so there was no need for a post test. They knew the concept of germs, one girl named Fatou was on FIRE with her contributions and knowledge of hand washing so we invited her up to be the teacher, we had so many great questions asked by the students, which leads to a very crucial component of our success - the students were happy to raise their hands and participate. We included a skit where I really got into acting and the drama was about me getting sick from food poisoning. Good thing I just had a personal run-in with that experience less than a week ago. Not only did students ask questions, but Elizabeth, Alicia, and I thought long and hard to create questions that would stimulate critical thinking and wrote everyone's answer on the black board for all to see. We also had an ice breaker/warm up activity to make sure all the kids were awake, unleashed the rice bag drawing of hand washing, demonstrated proper hand washing which they all knew but this is where we identified an area of confusion - the duration of time one should wash their hands. 30 seconds is the recommended but most people don't conveniently have a clock or a watch so we introduced a song to combat this obstacle. It's called "Scrub your hands" to the tune of row, row, row your boat. Luckily, they already knew it so it was a breeze. We called each row up while I raised the roof with the other three rows to sing for them while the group that was up washed their hands. All of the volunteers heard us, I'm sure. I encouraged everyone to scream and yell and sing. We attracted other students to look into our class because we were basically hollering the lyrics and it was the most fun. We saw a special demonstration of critical thinking when one of the guys asked whether it can be any song - as long as it was 30 seconds or more - to wash his hands to. We asked if he'd like to sing his favorite song for us to see if the duration was satisfactory and he actually said he was an artist and would like to sing one of his own original songs! I set the timer while Alicia started washing her hands and his song was about a minute long which was great. It was overall a fantastic experience and it made the three of us beam. The class was stellar and set our day right.
We debriefed, bussed back home, had lunch, and I studied for a bit before returning home. I had a pleasant conversation with Rohi/Alkaloo's daughter, watched as Ida ripped apart her host dad for not supporting his wife in her desire to expand their garden because that meant more work for him and he had like, 5 women against him and relented, hahaha. He said he would do it tomorrow morning so he better. I walked back, my namesake told me to take the skirt she made for me which was way too long to the tailor's (so I did) and make it especially pint sized. I did some chores, took a shower... then my site mate texted me that she wasn't feeling well!!! I grabbed my thermometer and went over to her place to take care of her for a bit. I was able to communicate with her family that she didn't want dinner and wanted to sleep/rest so leave her alone, I hope I got through. Anyways, I walked back, dids ome laundry, ate a little bit of dinner, and went outside to math. Math was hugely successful tonight and I got to have side conversations with the women and made them laugh. How? Because I now have the useful word "ass" in Serehule and I can explain why I'm terrified of having children - that they were, indeed, going to hurt my vagina, and well whatever it takes to make them laugh I'm up to do :)
Model School is one of our bigger assignments where we had to create a lesson plan and teach a health topic in English. The Serehule ladies picked hand washing for the topic and got everything assembled - teaching aids, A+ lesson plans that was created, edited, and activity/question filled, hell Alicia somehow pulled some strings to get our plan printed out! We really did do practically everything to prepare... except for actually practicing it through once. So, we arrived, had a couple of minutes to sit down while the kids ended their break, and got divided into different classrooms. Not going to lie, but the sluggishness from this morning still lingered on me but I guess years of tour guiding helps me get my go-face on in a matter of seconds. So, we went in aaaaaaand pretty much killed it. Class 9C was really the main component to our success - they were comprised mostly of young women in grade 9 with about a handful of young men. Altogether, there was about 30 kids split into 4 rows facing the front. We really didn't prepare for Grade 9 students since our lesson was geared for kids much younger and they all aced their pre-test so there was no need for a post test. They knew the concept of germs, one girl named Fatou was on FIRE with her contributions and knowledge of hand washing so we invited her up to be the teacher, we had so many great questions asked by the students, which leads to a very crucial component of our success - the students were happy to raise their hands and participate. We included a skit where I really got into acting and the drama was about me getting sick from food poisoning. Good thing I just had a personal run-in with that experience less than a week ago. Not only did students ask questions, but Elizabeth, Alicia, and I thought long and hard to create questions that would stimulate critical thinking and wrote everyone's answer on the black board for all to see. We also had an ice breaker/warm up activity to make sure all the kids were awake, unleashed the rice bag drawing of hand washing, demonstrated proper hand washing which they all knew but this is where we identified an area of confusion - the duration of time one should wash their hands. 30 seconds is the recommended but most people don't conveniently have a clock or a watch so we introduced a song to combat this obstacle. It's called "Scrub your hands" to the tune of row, row, row your boat. Luckily, they already knew it so it was a breeze. We called each row up while I raised the roof with the other three rows to sing for them while the group that was up washed their hands. All of the volunteers heard us, I'm sure. I encouraged everyone to scream and yell and sing. We attracted other students to look into our class because we were basically hollering the lyrics and it was the most fun. We saw a special demonstration of critical thinking when one of the guys asked whether it can be any song - as long as it was 30 seconds or more - to wash his hands to. We asked if he'd like to sing his favorite song for us to see if the duration was satisfactory and he actually said he was an artist and would like to sing one of his own original songs! I set the timer while Alicia started washing her hands and his song was about a minute long which was great. It was overall a fantastic experience and it made the three of us beam. The class was stellar and set our day right.
We debriefed, bussed back home, had lunch, and I studied for a bit before returning home. I had a pleasant conversation with Rohi/Alkaloo's daughter, watched as Ida ripped apart her host dad for not supporting his wife in her desire to expand their garden because that meant more work for him and he had like, 5 women against him and relented, hahaha. He said he would do it tomorrow morning so he better. I walked back, my namesake told me to take the skirt she made for me which was way too long to the tailor's (so I did) and make it especially pint sized. I did some chores, took a shower... then my site mate texted me that she wasn't feeling well!!! I grabbed my thermometer and went over to her place to take care of her for a bit. I was able to communicate with her family that she didn't want dinner and wanted to sleep/rest so leave her alone, I hope I got through. Anyways, I walked back, dids ome laundry, ate a little bit of dinner, and went outside to math. Math was hugely successful tonight and I got to have side conversations with the women and made them laugh. How? Because I now have the useful word "ass" in Serehule and I can explain why I'm terrified of having children - that they were, indeed, going to hurt my vagina, and well whatever it takes to make them laugh I'm up to do :)
Journal Entry 12/2
I was abnormally tired today. Morning was pretty successful, I got everything I needed to do in record time, got breakfast delivered early, and was out the door to wait on the road by the designated pick up time for Peace Corps (all the trainees had to go to Jenoi once more for a session). I even had time to chat with my family about how I don't have my ears pierced, the topic of "lopijuice" AKA the word for ass/badonkadonk - no lie, they love the fact that I know that word. Talk about power morning. Note that all conversations take place in Serehule and it takes a mental toll on me every time. SO OF COURSE the day I'm not rushed and on time the bus comes 40 minutes late, right? Right. On the plus side, all of us were able to get and eat our breakfasts! Elizabeth and Alicia even got to get a bean sandwich. I didn't even know Alicia's family sold them until now otherwise I'd be buying them every time we had to get picked up for Jenoi.
Okay, so we finally arrive in Jenoi and have our session (it was 4 hours of a history of development, logistical Peace Corps protocol stuff, and all led by Leon, the Country Director who went to UMass for his MPH). Leon's wife Abby was also there and she is just too kind because she brought fried doughnuts and cold drunks to feed us! Yaaaaaay! We introduced each other and reeled at how small the world was since they live in a town 1.5 hours away from me back in the States. Speaking of which, I just found the craziest thing. There's a PCV (PC Volunteer) named Kelsey who I'm paired up with as a support person in case I have any questions of anything, right? Well, I was adding her on FB when I noticed we had 12 mutual friends - way more than we should since I'm still a trainee who hasn't friended anyone yet. I investigate (read: stalk) further and find that our mutual friends are all my Thai friends that I made when I was studying abroad! I called her right away and she confirmed that we enrolled in the same program! Talk about a small world. I have so many things to reminisce with her in the near future.
It was hot as HELL by the time the session ended and I was so, so, so tired. We went back to Jalanbereh and had lunch but I was either fighting sleepiness or dehydration the entire time because I've never felt so drifty in my entire time here. All of my drowsiness was thrown out, however, when Elizabeth and I discovered a freakin rat in Ida's house so we screamed and ran out to get Ida's host mom to ask her to look through Ida's stuff. We saw one of her bags moving and distinct little footstep sounds. So of course when Bai, Ida's host mom, looks through the bag, the rat wasn't there! Elizabeth went back inside to poke at items in close proximity to Ida's bag and it was behind the poster the entire time. Bai ripped her husband from his shower - they're a pretty good looking couple - so he comes out and they chase the rat to the backyard while Elizabeth and I are standing in Nopetown like 10 feet away from the house, watching them through the doorway. Anyways, we resumed our lunch, I studied, and we waited for Ida to return home. We caught up with her, Elizabeth walked me home, I showered, dinnered, mathed, then bed. Pretty regular night.
Okay, so we finally arrive in Jenoi and have our session (it was 4 hours of a history of development, logistical Peace Corps protocol stuff, and all led by Leon, the Country Director who went to UMass for his MPH). Leon's wife Abby was also there and she is just too kind because she brought fried doughnuts and cold drunks to feed us! Yaaaaaay! We introduced each other and reeled at how small the world was since they live in a town 1.5 hours away from me back in the States. Speaking of which, I just found the craziest thing. There's a PCV (PC Volunteer) named Kelsey who I'm paired up with as a support person in case I have any questions of anything, right? Well, I was adding her on FB when I noticed we had 12 mutual friends - way more than we should since I'm still a trainee who hasn't friended anyone yet. I investigate (read: stalk) further and find that our mutual friends are all my Thai friends that I made when I was studying abroad! I called her right away and she confirmed that we enrolled in the same program! Talk about a small world. I have so many things to reminisce with her in the near future.
It was hot as HELL by the time the session ended and I was so, so, so tired. We went back to Jalanbereh and had lunch but I was either fighting sleepiness or dehydration the entire time because I've never felt so drifty in my entire time here. All of my drowsiness was thrown out, however, when Elizabeth and I discovered a freakin rat in Ida's house so we screamed and ran out to get Ida's host mom to ask her to look through Ida's stuff. We saw one of her bags moving and distinct little footstep sounds. So of course when Bai, Ida's host mom, looks through the bag, the rat wasn't there! Elizabeth went back inside to poke at items in close proximity to Ida's bag and it was behind the poster the entire time. Bai ripped her husband from his shower - they're a pretty good looking couple - so he comes out and they chase the rat to the backyard while Elizabeth and I are standing in Nopetown like 10 feet away from the house, watching them through the doorway. Anyways, we resumed our lunch, I studied, and we waited for Ida to return home. We caught up with her, Elizabeth walked me home, I showered, dinnered, mathed, then bed. Pretty regular night.
Journal Entry 12/1
Soma part two. Woke up. Got the early morning routine down to a T and was out the door by 6:50 without rushing. We boarded the regular taxi and were driving away like normal when...we stopped to pick up a friggin goat. Now this poor thing probably knew it was going to be someone's lunch because it kept on screeching his horrible goat cry for help and damn do they sound ugly. It's either the goat or donkey sex noises I hear at night but it's the most annoying sound and they make for the worst neighbors. They also continually remind me of how I'm not getting any but how every other animal is - injustice. Anyways, this goat is just screaming for help and all I'm thinking is when he's going to knock the back of my head in when it starts thrashing in retribution - WHICH it actually didn't do.
We finally get to Soma, talk to a guy who's part of a team to get the entire country hooked up to internet by 2014 (meaning tele-health care in the best scenario), got online, and got in transcribing mode. About two hours in, we found a current PCT named Nick who was really nice and also 4 of our coworkers biked to Soma! We caught up and I felt bad that I had so much time online because I needed them for e-mails, blogging, and I had a FB date to wait for. On the plus side, I found out that I'll have packages to look forward to in my near future! There was an HIV/AIDS awareness parade that went through the main road just outside of the internet cafe and that was another F Yeah Public Health moment. I finished all that I needed to do, was pretty happy by the time I exited the internet cafe, bought a watermelon for my family, and set off for the bus.
Today, the bus was friggin crazy with crying babies left and right shattering my eardrums. I felt like I was in Satan's armpit with how sweltering it was and how bad I/everyone smelled. I also felt like I was in China all over again with all the crowding and pushing on the bus. It was like a sauna and I was paranoid some guy who was sitting on the floor was going to look up my skirt but realized that it was sticking to me too well to give anything away - thanks sweat! When the bus finally moved, air finally circulated and I felt much better. I hauled my huge watermelon to Ida's (so heavy), had lunch (starvationnnn), chucked my skirt across Ida's house, and got my drawing on. I drew on a rice bag on procedures to wash hands for my Serehule group's one hour class on Tuesday for hand washing. This is right, I am drawing on rice bag because paper is hard to find in The Gambia but rice bags are not. It actually came out superb but it was hard as hell since I had to draw hands... I'll be a master in no time at this rate. I am lucky in that my hands are small enough to be drawn onto the rice bag like a stencil. Any who, for a reward, Elizabeth also bought a watermelon and I got a generous piece of it. As we're chomping away, I teach my site mates the game marry, f***, kill, yes I know this is an awful game, but it was really entertaining and I realize there's a special place in hell for me. After the sun finally started to go, I rushed back home, took a shower, studied forever, and just as ti was turning dark, the tailor showed up and gave me my dress! It's cute as hell and I'm squealing-ly happy about how sweet it came out. I can't wait to wear it AH I'm so excited that I'm going to implode. Everyone in my compound seemed to really like it - I did a mini-cat walk down the main way - but I'm just afraid it might be too short when I sit down but what the hell. It's a pain to get on and off but I bet it'll be easier with time and wash. It also doesn't help when I'm laced with 10 layers of sweat at all times. Anyways, dinner was dinner (coos and sauce - but at least the sauce is hearty and I chose to forget the fact that I'm scooping spoons of oil in my mouth), went out to math, aaaand bed.
We finally get to Soma, talk to a guy who's part of a team to get the entire country hooked up to internet by 2014 (meaning tele-health care in the best scenario), got online, and got in transcribing mode. About two hours in, we found a current PCT named Nick who was really nice and also 4 of our coworkers biked to Soma! We caught up and I felt bad that I had so much time online because I needed them for e-mails, blogging, and I had a FB date to wait for. On the plus side, I found out that I'll have packages to look forward to in my near future! There was an HIV/AIDS awareness parade that went through the main road just outside of the internet cafe and that was another F Yeah Public Health moment. I finished all that I needed to do, was pretty happy by the time I exited the internet cafe, bought a watermelon for my family, and set off for the bus.
Today, the bus was friggin crazy with crying babies left and right shattering my eardrums. I felt like I was in Satan's armpit with how sweltering it was and how bad I/everyone smelled. I also felt like I was in China all over again with all the crowding and pushing on the bus. It was like a sauna and I was paranoid some guy who was sitting on the floor was going to look up my skirt but realized that it was sticking to me too well to give anything away - thanks sweat! When the bus finally moved, air finally circulated and I felt much better. I hauled my huge watermelon to Ida's (so heavy), had lunch (starvationnnn), chucked my skirt across Ida's house, and got my drawing on. I drew on a rice bag on procedures to wash hands for my Serehule group's one hour class on Tuesday for hand washing. This is right, I am drawing on rice bag because paper is hard to find in The Gambia but rice bags are not. It actually came out superb but it was hard as hell since I had to draw hands... I'll be a master in no time at this rate. I am lucky in that my hands are small enough to be drawn onto the rice bag like a stencil. Any who, for a reward, Elizabeth also bought a watermelon and I got a generous piece of it. As we're chomping away, I teach my site mates the game marry, f***, kill, yes I know this is an awful game, but it was really entertaining and I realize there's a special place in hell for me. After the sun finally started to go, I rushed back home, took a shower, studied forever, and just as ti was turning dark, the tailor showed up and gave me my dress! It's cute as hell and I'm squealing-ly happy about how sweet it came out. I can't wait to wear it AH I'm so excited that I'm going to implode. Everyone in my compound seemed to really like it - I did a mini-cat walk down the main way - but I'm just afraid it might be too short when I sit down but what the hell. It's a pain to get on and off but I bet it'll be easier with time and wash. It also doesn't help when I'm laced with 10 layers of sweat at all times. Anyways, dinner was dinner (coos and sauce - but at least the sauce is hearty and I chose to forget the fact that I'm scooping spoons of oil in my mouth), went out to math, aaaand bed.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Journal Post 11/30
Today was pretty normal. We caught the 7 AM taxi to Soma, went online for 4 hours, went to eat at a restaurant, and found out all the computers were down for maintenance by the time we were back. When I say maintenance, what I really mean is that someone took apart the tower and used a lawn blower thing to blow all the dust out. Our decision to stay in Soma or leave was made for us since the internet was gone which meant we walked to catch a bus. For the first time in all of history for me, a bus that I needed actually came 10 minutes after I arrived. What was even better - three Peace Corps Volunteers came out of the bus! One of them was Shawn - one of the women I reached out to before I got into country for tips and advice. She's spectacular and such a kind presence. I met a new PCV and met up with one of them who I ran into on my way to site visit! He said he heard I was really good at language, I was flattered, but I attribute all my success to my teacher. We talked for a lot, a lot, and it's so sucky that Peace Corps is hiding us away from all the PCVs because they're such cool people. I want to unleash the crazy and ask them everything and anything but I think they'll think I'm weird so I'll hold off a little longer. We came back to Jalanbereh, I spent the entire afternoon organizing and sweating, took a shower, and went over to Elizabeth's to write out our one hour lesson plan. I'm so fucking thankful, I can't even put it into words, exactly how lucky and thankful I am that I'm in a group with Alicia who is a Public Health Official in the States because I'm learning so much from her. Everything she says to me, I hear, I remember, and I store it in the back of my head. I'm learning so much from her just by being with her and I'm so happy she teaches me. I'm also so happy I have Elizabeth, who's like a Gambian mom to me, and she just cares and looks out for everyone. We worked and listened to music for awhile before leaving to go home. We finished our lesson plan but decided that we needed to head back to Soma tomorrow to finish our own business and print our product out. When I went outside for math sessions, there's this one little kid and his name is Ousman. He's a chubster compared to everyone else his age and has quite the center of attention syndrome. He hits everyone if he doesn't get his way - especially kids around his age - and I think he's super spoiled. He's also pretty dirty but has so much life in him. He puts EVERYTHING in his mouth and especially his hands... which touches everything. So again, this reinforces the fact that he's just a dirty, way too hyperactive kid. He tries to catch my bag and I tell him not to touch. He tries to sit near me and pushes everyone out of the way even though clearly he is not there to learn. He reaches his drool encrusted little fingers at the peanuts I'm using as teaching aids and I tell him not to teach and then he tries to touch my book and again, I tell him not to touch, and now all the kids are yelling at him not to touch me lmao. I'm sorry but he is just ... I can touch him with a 5 foot pole and that's about it. All of the commotion kind of drove him away and finally I resumed normal lessons. The end.
Journal Post 11/29
Yesterday, I woke up after an 8-9 hour uninterrupted hibernation and was unsure if I should push my luck by getting up. After lying in bed and surveying my condition, I courageously sat up and dared to say I was better. I got ready, headed out, my entire compound seemed ready to greet me. Except it was only like, 1/10 of them since they were all at some huge immunization event for meningitis. GO PUBLIC HEALTH! I felt like a completely different person. On my way out, I caught a glimpse of the pump working again and bless the lawds because I was unsure about the well water. A snake-chain of people wrapped around the pump because that was where the immunizations took place. Again, Fuck Yeah Prevention/Public Health!
Anyways, I press onto Ida's and the entire length of the way I'm being greeted and asked if I was doing okay. Apparently news travels fast in the village without Facebook or anything (except for phones... but I doubt they really needed that anyways) but I felt very thankful that they were all concerned! D'aw they cared. But really, it's the culture, you're suppose to always ask/check on you when you're sick whereas in America you kind of want to be left alone to rest. Ida just told everyone yesterday to leave me alone.. Unfortunately, one day off from Serehule totally blindsides my language skills or I just barfed all capacity to speak it. It was nice to know everyone + kids still remembered my name! When I reached Ida's both Elizabeth and Ida were so happy to see me better. Apparently both of them weren't even feeling good yesterday either - they mostly lied down and even had some bouts of diarrhea which is never good. Ida said my family was super worried about me, so cute. We all caught each other up - apparently Ida had a grandchild and I told her about my little impromptu speech. She said ti was my security blanket - that everyone will start knowing me and saying my name just like in Jalanbereh. Also, apparently many of our friends also got sick - one of them actually called us to say her ENTIRE group including the teacher was sick... one of them was sent to the capital... and even the DOCTOR was sick. Damn. So that's why he didn't pick up yesterday! I read Ida the journal entries I wrote or the monologues I wrote in Serehule and realized that one of the prompts I wrote was a response to "What if you got sick, describe your conditions to the doctor" and realized I wrote my own doom wtf, my own downfall! I should start writing my dream life to come true - winning the lottery, having a super successful service, acing the language test, getting proficient in Serehule, picking up another language, kicking ass and taking names etc. So that's exactly why I knew what to tell my family when I was sick because I predetermined my own conditions. I hate myself.
Anywho, Ida and I chatted in English and Serehule until lunch finally arrived. Alicia told me earlier in the morning that she would be arriving in the afternoon since she was traveling from her permanent site visit and mid way through lunch she came! There was much rejoicing. We caught each other up and I found out some more people who were sick and vowed to call them later in the evening to check if they're okay (since it meant so much to me when Elizabeth came to see me). Alicia's story telling is award winning and unfortunately everything that could go wrong did go wrong in the beginning BUT got much better throughout her time there. She is also in the Upper River Region with me, in a town that's past mine but we're pretty much parallel to each other. We talked for a long, long time until Peace Corps staff arrived to do the Mid-Upper Arm Circumference exercise with a group of <5 year olds. This will be part of our baseline assessment in our permanent village. MUAC is a quick measuring method that can determine whether or not a child under five is malnourished. Funny thing is that the tape used for measuring the child's arm in this practice fits around my own mid-upper arm... which tells me I'm equivalent to a slightly obese 5 year old.
We had to gather some kids from around the area and I felt bad because I ripped two kids away from their late lunch to get measured. One of them cried because they were scared we'd give them shots or we're actually scary because we're toubab/foreigners, I'm not sure. Either way, it was very quick and it helped that her father trusted us and brought the two children along. None of them were malnourished and I surprised everyone, including myselef, when I explained what was happening in Serehule. Seth, the Agriculture/Forestry PCVL/RA was goofing off with the little boys who were over 5 but under 10 so they couldn't participate in the practice. He was headbutting small nuts/acorn things at the kids and they were so damn tickled by him while Daniel, the health PCVL, was actually doing his job and helping us! Well, it couldn't be helped since this really isn't Seth's forte.
After the PC staff left, we went to the tailor's to drop off our designs/fabric. It turns out that there are two in town and one of them is literally right behind my compound. The tailor spoke pretty good English and Wolof but not Serehule. There were a lot of nice women who were at his compound - one of them was from my own! She was the one who helped take care of me, Jaara. We gave him our designs and he took a few scraps of fabric, folded it up like origami, snipped away some bits, and showed us a miniature design. It was pretty crazy - like how did he know where to cut?! It blew my mind out of the water. It was getting late so he couldn't get us measured but planned to do so tomorrow morning at Ida's. We leave, I shower, dinnered, and went out to teach math.
Of course as I'm teaching, I get two calls from men. They had to be men from Kulari because I didn't give my phone number out to anyone at ALL in Jalanbereh. I gave it out to HM, which makes sense because he was my community representative, Wujare, which makes sense because he was leading me everywhere, small Musa, which makes sense because he's a small boy and knows great English to help me along, and this one guy named Malick who is the only questionable guy. He literally took my phone, entered some numbers, and it popped up my telephone number even when I said I didn't know it. He seems nice enough but you never know. Anyways, these two phone numbers weren't in my phone which means I didn't know them and the bad part about it was that yes, they were from men, and it was also like 9:30 at night! I am not happy. I said I didn't know who it was and I saw the numbers call me days prior in the afternoon, I just never answered,. Conveniently, I was sitting around a group of women. I answer, it's a guy, my mom takes the phone and she starts mumbling into it like a prank call and they hang up. ALL the women were laughing. My mom shushed them but seriously, she trolled him well. Literally minutes later, I get another call from a different number and I hand it off to my mom. She shushes the women and straight up answers in Serehule. I'm pretty sure she told him to never call again and take a hike. The guy hangs up. One of my sisters get the number from my phone log and calls back on her phone. Clearly the guy didn't expect it, she interrogates him a little, and hangs up. We all laugh and then shit gets serious. I proceed to get the security talk from the women. I'm amazed that I understand what they're telling me but they basically said, "Men are bad. Kulari's big. Don't make many male friends. Lots of female friends are good. Making friends with little boys is okay. Don't give out your number, say you don't know. Don't answer the door if someone knocks at night."
I laugh because they're truly concerned for my well-being when I leave Jalanbereh and the fact that I'm getting this talk in Serehule and semi-understanding. I'm totally okay with surrounding myself with women and I 110% intend to do so. There are lots of empowerment things I'm hoping to do with the women but I feel like in order to get anything done, the whole community needs to get involved - including the men. Also the fact that men make the last decision in anything puts a damper on my desire to just stay with the women and children, gr. I was touched by their concern and said I understood and promised not to give out my number, ever, and told them I would speak in Chinese if I got another weird call. They told me to tell my Kulari moms about this and they would fix it for me, haha. That was a really special conversation I had with the ladies.
Today was pretty normal. I greeted more family than usual, went to Ida's, I swear I really did vomit out my ability to language because everything to 100x harder. Ida left to go to her granddaughter's naming ceremony after lunch and the Serehule ladies just talked and talked and talked and talked and soaked/cleaned our feet and talked and talked. I finally saw the bottom of my feet! It's a lovely feeling I savor because Elizabeth literally bought a salon with her. We didn't even have to warm the water for our feet because the sun did it for us, that was how hot it was. It was really hot as hell and it's suppose to be cold season!? Balls. After the sun was just about setting, we went home. I fetched water, showered, had reliable tap water now, went out to math after dinner, and the women asked if the men called again - which they didn't! Go mom.
Math sessions are going well but I realized I have to ready problems for the older kids in order to have time to spend time with the younger ones. My closest sister, Numa, is really good at adding whereas her brother, Mohammad, excels at subtraction. They have trouble with the opposite haha. Fatimata, the 16 year old who was giving me attitude before but not anymore after my site visit, is behind them but I know she can do it. She just needs to take it slowly but it's annoying when the kids just throw out guesses out there and they're so damn VERBAL about it, it's loud and it breaks their concentration. No one understands the concept of waiting in line and they just keep on tapping me on the shoulder (I think they underestimate how hard they jab at me because that's how hard they jab at each other when they tap you for something) and I am forcing the concept of waiting on them. The little girl who use to be sassy and spoiled is understanding and I reward her for it. Anyone else who doesn't will just have to learn the hard way. What's also great is that most of them are coughing into their elbows now, and whenever someone doesn't I call them out for it and all the kids call them out for it, too. Slow behavioral changes, slow. I feel very proud when anyone remembers, however. It annoys me the most when I specifically say one person respond but they whisper answers into the responder's ear and it's usually WRONG and it entices the responder to just say what their friend/sibling said. I'm trying to skip the turn of the person who breaks the rules and I think they're slowly catching on. Right now, I'm making the older kids re-write the problems they get wrong and drilling problem after problem into them. If they get a problem wrong more than three times, I stop teaching the younger kids to focus my attention on them and they usually get it right away. For the younger kids, I surveyed their ability to write (which is... they're unable to write, they can't write the letter 2 or 5, and some of them get confused at 4) and backtracked a little to start with simple addition. I'm using peanut shells and asking them to pick out 1-10 in one pile, 1-10 in another pile, and ask another child to tell me how much it is altogether. I figured writing is beyond them at this stage, but it will come with time. I know they want me to write equations for them like I do their older siblings but they're totally overestimating their ability. At least they have the desire to learn.. I just have to guide them realistically. I can see improvement, however, since the youngest know 1-10, they might not understand the numbers completely but that's where the peanut counting is coming in. It's exhausting as hell, especially when the older kids interrupt me when they're stumped or they think they're right but it's actually wrong, or when people come into the compound and greet and greet and greet or someone tries to answer for someone else, ugh. Overall, it's a nice routine, and I think they really appreciate it and I feel like I'm actually getting math through to them!
Anyways, I press onto Ida's and the entire length of the way I'm being greeted and asked if I was doing okay. Apparently news travels fast in the village without Facebook or anything (except for phones... but I doubt they really needed that anyways) but I felt very thankful that they were all concerned! D'aw they cared. But really, it's the culture, you're suppose to always ask/check on you when you're sick whereas in America you kind of want to be left alone to rest. Ida just told everyone yesterday to leave me alone.. Unfortunately, one day off from Serehule totally blindsides my language skills or I just barfed all capacity to speak it. It was nice to know everyone + kids still remembered my name! When I reached Ida's both Elizabeth and Ida were so happy to see me better. Apparently both of them weren't even feeling good yesterday either - they mostly lied down and even had some bouts of diarrhea which is never good. Ida said my family was super worried about me, so cute. We all caught each other up - apparently Ida had a grandchild and I told her about my little impromptu speech. She said ti was my security blanket - that everyone will start knowing me and saying my name just like in Jalanbereh. Also, apparently many of our friends also got sick - one of them actually called us to say her ENTIRE group including the teacher was sick... one of them was sent to the capital... and even the DOCTOR was sick. Damn. So that's why he didn't pick up yesterday! I read Ida the journal entries I wrote or the monologues I wrote in Serehule and realized that one of the prompts I wrote was a response to "What if you got sick, describe your conditions to the doctor" and realized I wrote my own doom wtf, my own downfall! I should start writing my dream life to come true - winning the lottery, having a super successful service, acing the language test, getting proficient in Serehule, picking up another language, kicking ass and taking names etc. So that's exactly why I knew what to tell my family when I was sick because I predetermined my own conditions. I hate myself.
Anywho, Ida and I chatted in English and Serehule until lunch finally arrived. Alicia told me earlier in the morning that she would be arriving in the afternoon since she was traveling from her permanent site visit and mid way through lunch she came! There was much rejoicing. We caught each other up and I found out some more people who were sick and vowed to call them later in the evening to check if they're okay (since it meant so much to me when Elizabeth came to see me). Alicia's story telling is award winning and unfortunately everything that could go wrong did go wrong in the beginning BUT got much better throughout her time there. She is also in the Upper River Region with me, in a town that's past mine but we're pretty much parallel to each other. We talked for a long, long time until Peace Corps staff arrived to do the Mid-Upper Arm Circumference exercise with a group of <5 year olds. This will be part of our baseline assessment in our permanent village. MUAC is a quick measuring method that can determine whether or not a child under five is malnourished. Funny thing is that the tape used for measuring the child's arm in this practice fits around my own mid-upper arm... which tells me I'm equivalent to a slightly obese 5 year old.
We had to gather some kids from around the area and I felt bad because I ripped two kids away from their late lunch to get measured. One of them cried because they were scared we'd give them shots or we're actually scary because we're toubab/foreigners, I'm not sure. Either way, it was very quick and it helped that her father trusted us and brought the two children along. None of them were malnourished and I surprised everyone, including myselef, when I explained what was happening in Serehule. Seth, the Agriculture/Forestry PCVL/RA was goofing off with the little boys who were over 5 but under 10 so they couldn't participate in the practice. He was headbutting small nuts/acorn things at the kids and they were so damn tickled by him while Daniel, the health PCVL, was actually doing his job and helping us! Well, it couldn't be helped since this really isn't Seth's forte.
After the PC staff left, we went to the tailor's to drop off our designs/fabric. It turns out that there are two in town and one of them is literally right behind my compound. The tailor spoke pretty good English and Wolof but not Serehule. There were a lot of nice women who were at his compound - one of them was from my own! She was the one who helped take care of me, Jaara. We gave him our designs and he took a few scraps of fabric, folded it up like origami, snipped away some bits, and showed us a miniature design. It was pretty crazy - like how did he know where to cut?! It blew my mind out of the water. It was getting late so he couldn't get us measured but planned to do so tomorrow morning at Ida's. We leave, I shower, dinnered, and went out to teach math.
Of course as I'm teaching, I get two calls from men. They had to be men from Kulari because I didn't give my phone number out to anyone at ALL in Jalanbereh. I gave it out to HM, which makes sense because he was my community representative, Wujare, which makes sense because he was leading me everywhere, small Musa, which makes sense because he's a small boy and knows great English to help me along, and this one guy named Malick who is the only questionable guy. He literally took my phone, entered some numbers, and it popped up my telephone number even when I said I didn't know it. He seems nice enough but you never know. Anyways, these two phone numbers weren't in my phone which means I didn't know them and the bad part about it was that yes, they were from men, and it was also like 9:30 at night! I am not happy. I said I didn't know who it was and I saw the numbers call me days prior in the afternoon, I just never answered,. Conveniently, I was sitting around a group of women. I answer, it's a guy, my mom takes the phone and she starts mumbling into it like a prank call and they hang up. ALL the women were laughing. My mom shushed them but seriously, she trolled him well. Literally minutes later, I get another call from a different number and I hand it off to my mom. She shushes the women and straight up answers in Serehule. I'm pretty sure she told him to never call again and take a hike. The guy hangs up. One of my sisters get the number from my phone log and calls back on her phone. Clearly the guy didn't expect it, she interrogates him a little, and hangs up. We all laugh and then shit gets serious. I proceed to get the security talk from the women. I'm amazed that I understand what they're telling me but they basically said, "Men are bad. Kulari's big. Don't make many male friends. Lots of female friends are good. Making friends with little boys is okay. Don't give out your number, say you don't know. Don't answer the door if someone knocks at night."
I laugh because they're truly concerned for my well-being when I leave Jalanbereh and the fact that I'm getting this talk in Serehule and semi-understanding. I'm totally okay with surrounding myself with women and I 110% intend to do so. There are lots of empowerment things I'm hoping to do with the women but I feel like in order to get anything done, the whole community needs to get involved - including the men. Also the fact that men make the last decision in anything puts a damper on my desire to just stay with the women and children, gr. I was touched by their concern and said I understood and promised not to give out my number, ever, and told them I would speak in Chinese if I got another weird call. They told me to tell my Kulari moms about this and they would fix it for me, haha. That was a really special conversation I had with the ladies.
Today was pretty normal. I greeted more family than usual, went to Ida's, I swear I really did vomit out my ability to language because everything to 100x harder. Ida left to go to her granddaughter's naming ceremony after lunch and the Serehule ladies just talked and talked and talked and talked and soaked/cleaned our feet and talked and talked. I finally saw the bottom of my feet! It's a lovely feeling I savor because Elizabeth literally bought a salon with her. We didn't even have to warm the water for our feet because the sun did it for us, that was how hot it was. It was really hot as hell and it's suppose to be cold season!? Balls. After the sun was just about setting, we went home. I fetched water, showered, had reliable tap water now, went out to math after dinner, and the women asked if the men called again - which they didn't! Go mom.
Math sessions are going well but I realized I have to ready problems for the older kids in order to have time to spend time with the younger ones. My closest sister, Numa, is really good at adding whereas her brother, Mohammad, excels at subtraction. They have trouble with the opposite haha. Fatimata, the 16 year old who was giving me attitude before but not anymore after my site visit, is behind them but I know she can do it. She just needs to take it slowly but it's annoying when the kids just throw out guesses out there and they're so damn VERBAL about it, it's loud and it breaks their concentration. No one understands the concept of waiting in line and they just keep on tapping me on the shoulder (I think they underestimate how hard they jab at me because that's how hard they jab at each other when they tap you for something) and I am forcing the concept of waiting on them. The little girl who use to be sassy and spoiled is understanding and I reward her for it. Anyone else who doesn't will just have to learn the hard way. What's also great is that most of them are coughing into their elbows now, and whenever someone doesn't I call them out for it and all the kids call them out for it, too. Slow behavioral changes, slow. I feel very proud when anyone remembers, however. It annoys me the most when I specifically say one person respond but they whisper answers into the responder's ear and it's usually WRONG and it entices the responder to just say what their friend/sibling said. I'm trying to skip the turn of the person who breaks the rules and I think they're slowly catching on. Right now, I'm making the older kids re-write the problems they get wrong and drilling problem after problem into them. If they get a problem wrong more than three times, I stop teaching the younger kids to focus my attention on them and they usually get it right away. For the younger kids, I surveyed their ability to write (which is... they're unable to write, they can't write the letter 2 or 5, and some of them get confused at 4) and backtracked a little to start with simple addition. I'm using peanut shells and asking them to pick out 1-10 in one pile, 1-10 in another pile, and ask another child to tell me how much it is altogether. I figured writing is beyond them at this stage, but it will come with time. I know they want me to write equations for them like I do their older siblings but they're totally overestimating their ability. At least they have the desire to learn.. I just have to guide them realistically. I can see improvement, however, since the youngest know 1-10, they might not understand the numbers completely but that's where the peanut counting is coming in. It's exhausting as hell, especially when the older kids interrupt me when they're stumped or they think they're right but it's actually wrong, or when people come into the compound and greet and greet and greet or someone tries to answer for someone else, ugh. Overall, it's a nice routine, and I think they really appreciate it and I feel like I'm actually getting math through to them!
Journal Post 11/27
Welp, it's 3:30 AM and I've been up for the past hour. Why? I suppose it's my turn to deal with The Gambia Revenge because I vomited twice last night. I guess 1.5 months is my quota for being healthy because shit just went down. I'll start from the beginning. Yesterday went a bit like this...
Woke up. Twas cold. Got ready. Stumbled into breakfast. I was smart and didn't eat the onions and sardines and instead opted for the bread and chocolate bread option. We had language class and it really dawned upon us hard that there's only 2 more weeks left of training and a MILLION things to do. Fuck. We have three assignments due by next Tuesday - I gotta take some kid's Mid Upper Arm Measurement to determine whether or not they're malnourished, plan a one hour class about hand washing for kids and young adults in grade school, and some draft of a community action plan. On top of that, our final language exam is in two weeks! We had a bunch of sessions after that and found out that it was our last time in Jenoi, ever. My village site mate Elizabeth is a saint and mobilized everyone to chip in some cash to give to the kitchen ladies because they are so good to us - kind of like what the Resident Assistant's do with the maintainers at the end of the semester. I scrambled to make a mobile of cranes and one of the PCVs who were helping lead one of the sessions had pretty origami paper in her bag! Talk about great timing. I also found out this SAME PCV - named Colette - is from Cape Cod and transferred to UMass for a period of time in the 2000s! What a small world! We bonded over the small Western Mass. town and I told her all of the new stuff happening there, haha.
The sessions we had all day were technical and pretty fascinating - we sorted through trash and weighed babies. First, we talked about how to sort/deal with trash and how it's such a huge problem in The Gambia and there needs to be more emphasis on reduce, reuse, recycle, and we learned about creative ways volunteers have adopted to reuse trash! Seriously, it's brilliant. I hope to be a genius like that but I don't even know how inspiration for those ideas even strike. It was smelly and dirty and we even had a dying mouse that we had to kill in the trash we were tasked to pick. Awesome. After that, we weighed babies and tracked their weight on this "Road to Health" chart which maps an infant's health through their first five years of life based on weight.
Lunch happened - it was some kind of rice with a vegetables on top. After we ate, Elizabeth and I presented the gifts to the kitchen staff and they were very happy and did a little dance. Impromptu dancing always occurs. I even got to the a picture with my favorite kitchen staff of all! I snapped a few shots of the training camp, walked back to the kitchen to grab a few pieces of watermelon, and finished up with a lesson about personal health and nutrition in the Gambia. As everyone was packing to go home, my stomach started feeling a little weird, but nothing urgent. I applied some Chinese medicinal oil on it and put my hand on my stomach for warmth (I think this is just what my grandma accustomed me to when I was a kid, so I feel like I'm perpetually rubbing my stomach like a weirdo). We stopped in Soma so that the trainees could get a road gift for our families since we haven't seen them in nine days!!! I got a sizable pack of milk biscuits from the toubab/foreigner store. Ida also went with me to go fabric shopping for the Christmas gift I'm making everyone because unfortunately she didn't get what pattern I wanted in Kombo. However, I will use the fabric she got me regardless, and you'll see how very soon. I ended up getting scraps of see-through silk, three strips actually (2 turquoise and one sunburnt orange) for 25D. Not bad! I hope it'll suffice. The origami stars I'm making are small and it's a cute little travel present. I did just realize I have to make, like, 300 more... but that'll be saved for days where I have to wait forever for a bus to pass time. It's very important you always bring a book or something to do while you're waiting for something, because there will be waiting.
I arrived back home and it seems like every kid in Jalanbereh materializes out of thin air to greet me. Many of the kids from my compound rush out of my compound to hold my hand and lead me back home. Everyone was yelling my name, saying hi, it was such a warm welcome to be home. I feel like they're my posse, and they're my little force field against unwanted male attention which I get way too much of in Kulari. Anyways, I said hi and distributed the crackers to my family but rushed inside because I was racing against the sun to unpack everything before it set. Unpacking was a success but my stomach is feeling less and less of a success with every minute. I intended to go outside to take a quick shower but discovered and INFESTATION of these ant things where if you squish them they unleash this acid that can chemically burn you in my goddamn pit latrine. If you can imagine the horror as you see the silhouette of a hundred big ants emerge from a hole in the ground where you're suppose to have your genitals near, but they're red and have the potential to chemically burn you, you can imagine my horror as I dump water down it in frenzy. I was stupid to do that and waste water instead of insecticiding the shit out of them, but I'll remember to do it later. The battle concluded in a stalemate when I realized the sun was setting and ain't nobody got time to shower at night while bugs collide into you from all sides. I decided to resume mass destruction tomorrow. My stomach is really, really queasy after dinner but as soon as I stepped back into my house, dinner was delivered. I took one whiff of what was delivered to me and felt an overwhelming need to hurl so I slammed the lid back shut and sat down with my hand on my stomach, rubbing that medicinal oil again. I bet I looked like a loser from outside because I was just hunched over in my one chair with my lamp spotlighting me.
After 15 minutes, I decided to go out and explain to my family that I didn't feel well, I'm sorry I can't talk but I want to rest, but they were all so excited to talk to me! I felt bad but that but that feeling wasn't as strong as the need to barf. I set my dinner down, walked back into my house, bee lined straight to the back door, and hurled. I swear to God I hurled at least 1.5 pounds out. I could see and smell my lunch, in fact it was the same color and the rice wasn't even digested. It's weird that I could smell it, though. I was having like an out of body experience just watching myself retch and if you ever played Diablo, you know those monsters that barf out little crawly monsters to hurt you - well that's what I felt like with my hair in my face and just hurling my life out. I was like a fountain spewing gross red half-digested rice. As soon as I finish vomiting, I look to my right and see my compost pile. I think, "Damn. Why didn't I just barf there? My vomit is organic...right?" So the next thing I do is call my PCVL/RAs and asked if vomit could go into the compost pile. Lo and behold it can! I mean shit I didn't want to waste a pound of rice, that could be used. So then I grab my shovel and next thing I know there's a sheet of vomit on top of my compost. I felt really good but I could never imagine myself in a small country in West Africa shoveling my own vomit into a compost pile at night. You know after you barf, you have this moment of clarity? Moment of health? Well, that happened, and I was almost crazy enough to go back out but I decided against it and got ready to go to bed. This is at 8:30 PM by the way.
I couldn't really drift off to sleep even though I was tired yet happy that I vomited and got it all out. I kept on laying, laying, laying there waiting for sleep to take me over but at 10:30 an arrow of nausea pierced me in the stomach and I wanted to barf. This barf-feeling could not be suppressed and try as I did, I ended up throwing up in my mosquito net, all over half my sheets and blanket. SWEET. Halfway through vomiting I managed to throw out everything I kept in a zip lock bag next to my pillow and dump my stomach contents in there but to no avail because of course there was a rip in the bottom small enough for all my vomit to drip through. And back onto my sheets. Needless to say I am a mix of confusion, sickness, and annoyance at that moment but I kept it cool, mostly because I didn't have the energy to do anything else. I cleaned up my tent by using the rest of my sheet and blanket to soak up all the vomit. I didn't want the rats or ants or whatever lives in my house at night to get all up in my vomitty sheets so I just threw it in my empty water bucket and put the lid on it. I was drained but realized I still needed new sheets but I only bought ONE sheet to Gambia... but guess what Ida bought me... two meters of fabric which I'm not using which is also long enough to extend past the length of my body. I threw the piece of fabric down, laid down, and went straight to bed.
I woke up at 2:30 and haven't drank water since my last vomit movement. Why? Because I didn't have time to wash my water filter and I have absolutely no reliable water source since the tap was broken. I'm thinking, "Well shit because I know I lost a metric boat load of electrolytes but I'm not dumb enough to drink well water at this point because I know my stomach can't take it... what do I do?"I decided to journal, forget my overwhelming thirst, and promised to call Ida at 4:30 AM before the 5 AM call to prayer and ask her to send someone over with some packaged water. At 4:30 AM I called Ida and was she awake? No. So I feel like shit for making her get up, on top of already feeling like shit, and she said she would deliver the water to me and to call the Peace Corps Medical Office. I dialed them up after that but they didn't respond. It took awhile before the Nurse called me back and I told her the scoop and they told me to keep them updated with my status.
Soooo I'm lying in bed, afraid to get up less I barf again, but I'm dying to pee. I don't feel queasy but I also don't want to risk elevating my body. At 6:30 AMish, Ida personally comes to deliver water herself, I ripped three packages of water and dumped it all into my three water bottles, had 1 liter of water and 1 liter of water with Gatorade. Ida was nice enough to communicate with them I wasn't feeling well, leave me alone to rest, wash my vomitty sheets after I rinse them through first, etc. She also got me a small cup of tea but all I tasted was plastic because it was boiling water in this small plastic cup and ugh it doesn't taste good but it was warmth in my stomach which felt nice. I drank through the plastic, showed Ida out, and went back to sleep for another hour. I woke up and decided it was time to get the rinsing over with. I don't know how I mustered the energy to do so, or the brain power to figure out how exactly I would rinse my sheets, but it worked and now I have even more vomit in my compost pile. I took the sheets out, health waning, told them what was happening and my mom noticed that my skin was hot. Great. They told me to go back into my house and that they'd make white porridge/congee for me, hell yeah. I went back into my house, sat, drank a lot of water, and waited for my breakfast to come. One of the ladies came into deliver it and actually returned my bucket which I had the dirty sheets in, which means they washed that shit right away. That was really sweet they were on top of taking care of me. She told me to eat it all and I really tried but my biggest desire was to lay down and sleep. I had a couple of spoonfuls before submitting to my bed again and she cleaned my place up a little, too.
I went to sleep for another hour until Elizabeth comes knocking at my door to check up on me. My head feels a lot stuffier than last night and I'm a bit dizzy but I let her in. She feels my temperature and determines that I have a bit of a fever, so I lie down while she gets me Tylenol and Ibuprofen and instructs me to drink water. She is such a mom and I love her for it because when you're sick in Africa, it's really nice to have a mother figure to be there for you. It's really funny because every time she gives me something I have to get up, unzip my mosquito net, go through another mosquito net, take the thing she wants to give me, retreat back into my first mosquito net, zip my mosquito net back up, and lie back down. It's pathetic, but there are no bugs getting through here. YOU SHALL NOT PASS. Elizabeth was a saint and took care of washing my water filter for me, instructed my family to fill my bidong up again because I used all the water in it to wash my sheets, and left to go to Ida's. She said she wasn't feeling well either, really achey all over. I wish I could do more but I couldn't.
I went back to sleep until 1:30 when Ida came to deliver me lunch. At first I didn't hear her and I think I scared her, haha. I got up to let her in but the smell of food reminded me of all my vomit last night so I didn't take any of it. She brought my breakfast congee out that I didn't finished and got me a tall glass of hot water. I put green tea in it and damn did it taste good. She left after checking up on me and she wasn't looking too good herself. Concern? Or just felt like shit? I couldn't decipher, I was too lost in my fever. I took the tea with me to bed and drifted off to sleep... only to be woken up an hour later because I felt like my butt was wet. My first thought: Fuck, did I pee myself? Because I'll be really upset. It turns out I didn't wet myself, I just spilled my tea. No worries, so I just take off my pants and resume sleeping. Half an hour later, the woman who delivered my breakfast comes to check up on me and tells me that my sheets are dry. I'm lying in my bed with panties and a tank top on and think, shit, since I threw my pants across the room and she was looking in from my window. I wrap the fabric I used as my sheet around me, got up to get the clean sheets, threw them back in bed, and went back to sleep. Fast thinking. Bless you Ida for getting me those two clutch meters of fabric.
By 4:00 PM, I wake back up and I'm drowning in my sweat. I deduced that either my fever broke or it was actually hot. It turned out to be both. I sat up and drank a bunch of water... and actually felt pretty good. That's a relative term. I was still hot and clammy as hell but had enough energy to wash my tent from any vomit shrapnel from last night. It was a success and luckily there wasn't much that tainted my tent. My energy reserves were just ending as Elizabeth walked over. I let her in and laid back in bed. She was happy that my fever broke but took my temperature anyways. It was just below the normal which explained why I felt dizzy and was a bit clammy. Right after she took my temperature she asks me who owned a fancy car in my compound and I said no one, but a minute after that, wailing broke out which only meant one thing - someone died.
SOMEONE DIED. While I'm feeling like death. This fricken timing is ridiculous. I gather 5 minutes for myself and watch as a stream of people pour into my compound and more women join in on the chorus of wailing. It is loud and can't be mistaken for anything else - it is all mourning. I finally receharged myself enough to go outside and ask what happened. They were all dropping the word "death" and the name "Bambo." I recognized the name but I never actually met the guy. I knew he was the son to one of my dad's two original wives (not my direct mom or namesake) since I wrote it down during my family tree assignment. As soon as the car started driving out, the gates to my compound closed and the women all gathered in a group, crying together. I was consoling them while Elizabeth went inside to call Ida. Elizabeth passed the phone to the person I was consoling and then told me Bambo was one of my brothers. He was completely fine in the morning and was out with his friends until he literally dropped down and died. I felt awful because I legitimately didn't know who he was! Elizabeth deduced it was probably an aneurism. Ida informed me that Bambo was born physically deformed and my family encouraged him to stay out of my way because they thought his physical appearance would scare me. Of course it wouldn't! But my family didn't know that. So, he ended up as my NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR who listened to music in his backyard and I've never been able to see him.
Anyways, I hit another wall and and to retreat back into my house. After 20 minutes, I realized the sun was setting fast so I went outside to dump a few cups of water on my body and went back inside in time to catch Ida. She explained the situation to me. They think Bambo was sick internally but was perfectly fine on the outside so no one suspected anything wrong. It was just a perfectly normal day for him fetching firewood in the morning, going to his friends house, and while they were talking he just collapsed and died. The way death is so incorporated into every day life here is disturbing. It's literally a part of the circle of life. While my health is returning, my next door neighbor dies. While a child is born, another dies. It's hard to wrap my head around because it's so sobering. I even feel detached from it because it just happens all the time and it's absolutely awful. They absolutely mourn here for the dead but the body's usually buried before sundown on the day that the person passes, and life goes on. It goes on, albeit solemnly, but it goes on. In the States, if someone passes, it lingers on and the body usually isn't even buried until a week later. I'll have a deeper post about death in The Gambia and my feelings toward it later.
Ida told me to call the Med Office to update them, which I did. Both she and Elizabeth were on their way out since it was getting dark fast. As I was waiting for my dinner, Elizabeth ran back because she thought she left her keys in my house but it turns out she took mine, had hers all along, and had to run back. My dinner came and I felt bad they still had to cook for me even though there was a recent death. Crying would break out here and there, and I could see a queue of flashlights ambling in and out of my compound as both the men and women prepare for the funeral. One of the women came to deliver my dinner but as soon as I peeled back the lid, I saw a flurry of black specks all up in my congee and a twitching ant. I totally didn't blame them but I took the dinner back out and crashed in bed once again. This time, I fell asleep for 8 full hours and all I could hear while I drifted off was very abnormal silence that fell over my compound.
Woke up. Twas cold. Got ready. Stumbled into breakfast. I was smart and didn't eat the onions and sardines and instead opted for the bread and chocolate bread option. We had language class and it really dawned upon us hard that there's only 2 more weeks left of training and a MILLION things to do. Fuck. We have three assignments due by next Tuesday - I gotta take some kid's Mid Upper Arm Measurement to determine whether or not they're malnourished, plan a one hour class about hand washing for kids and young adults in grade school, and some draft of a community action plan. On top of that, our final language exam is in two weeks! We had a bunch of sessions after that and found out that it was our last time in Jenoi, ever. My village site mate Elizabeth is a saint and mobilized everyone to chip in some cash to give to the kitchen ladies because they are so good to us - kind of like what the Resident Assistant's do with the maintainers at the end of the semester. I scrambled to make a mobile of cranes and one of the PCVs who were helping lead one of the sessions had pretty origami paper in her bag! Talk about great timing. I also found out this SAME PCV - named Colette - is from Cape Cod and transferred to UMass for a period of time in the 2000s! What a small world! We bonded over the small Western Mass. town and I told her all of the new stuff happening there, haha.
The sessions we had all day were technical and pretty fascinating - we sorted through trash and weighed babies. First, we talked about how to sort/deal with trash and how it's such a huge problem in The Gambia and there needs to be more emphasis on reduce, reuse, recycle, and we learned about creative ways volunteers have adopted to reuse trash! Seriously, it's brilliant. I hope to be a genius like that but I don't even know how inspiration for those ideas even strike. It was smelly and dirty and we even had a dying mouse that we had to kill in the trash we were tasked to pick. Awesome. After that, we weighed babies and tracked their weight on this "Road to Health" chart which maps an infant's health through their first five years of life based on weight.
Lunch happened - it was some kind of rice with a vegetables on top. After we ate, Elizabeth and I presented the gifts to the kitchen staff and they were very happy and did a little dance. Impromptu dancing always occurs. I even got to the a picture with my favorite kitchen staff of all! I snapped a few shots of the training camp, walked back to the kitchen to grab a few pieces of watermelon, and finished up with a lesson about personal health and nutrition in the Gambia. As everyone was packing to go home, my stomach started feeling a little weird, but nothing urgent. I applied some Chinese medicinal oil on it and put my hand on my stomach for warmth (I think this is just what my grandma accustomed me to when I was a kid, so I feel like I'm perpetually rubbing my stomach like a weirdo). We stopped in Soma so that the trainees could get a road gift for our families since we haven't seen them in nine days!!! I got a sizable pack of milk biscuits from the toubab/foreigner store. Ida also went with me to go fabric shopping for the Christmas gift I'm making everyone because unfortunately she didn't get what pattern I wanted in Kombo. However, I will use the fabric she got me regardless, and you'll see how very soon. I ended up getting scraps of see-through silk, three strips actually (2 turquoise and one sunburnt orange) for 25D. Not bad! I hope it'll suffice. The origami stars I'm making are small and it's a cute little travel present. I did just realize I have to make, like, 300 more... but that'll be saved for days where I have to wait forever for a bus to pass time. It's very important you always bring a book or something to do while you're waiting for something, because there will be waiting.
I arrived back home and it seems like every kid in Jalanbereh materializes out of thin air to greet me. Many of the kids from my compound rush out of my compound to hold my hand and lead me back home. Everyone was yelling my name, saying hi, it was such a warm welcome to be home. I feel like they're my posse, and they're my little force field against unwanted male attention which I get way too much of in Kulari. Anyways, I said hi and distributed the crackers to my family but rushed inside because I was racing against the sun to unpack everything before it set. Unpacking was a success but my stomach is feeling less and less of a success with every minute. I intended to go outside to take a quick shower but discovered and INFESTATION of these ant things where if you squish them they unleash this acid that can chemically burn you in my goddamn pit latrine. If you can imagine the horror as you see the silhouette of a hundred big ants emerge from a hole in the ground where you're suppose to have your genitals near, but they're red and have the potential to chemically burn you, you can imagine my horror as I dump water down it in frenzy. I was stupid to do that and waste water instead of insecticiding the shit out of them, but I'll remember to do it later. The battle concluded in a stalemate when I realized the sun was setting and ain't nobody got time to shower at night while bugs collide into you from all sides. I decided to resume mass destruction tomorrow. My stomach is really, really queasy after dinner but as soon as I stepped back into my house, dinner was delivered. I took one whiff of what was delivered to me and felt an overwhelming need to hurl so I slammed the lid back shut and sat down with my hand on my stomach, rubbing that medicinal oil again. I bet I looked like a loser from outside because I was just hunched over in my one chair with my lamp spotlighting me.
After 15 minutes, I decided to go out and explain to my family that I didn't feel well, I'm sorry I can't talk but I want to rest, but they were all so excited to talk to me! I felt bad but that but that feeling wasn't as strong as the need to barf. I set my dinner down, walked back into my house, bee lined straight to the back door, and hurled. I swear to God I hurled at least 1.5 pounds out. I could see and smell my lunch, in fact it was the same color and the rice wasn't even digested. It's weird that I could smell it, though. I was having like an out of body experience just watching myself retch and if you ever played Diablo, you know those monsters that barf out little crawly monsters to hurt you - well that's what I felt like with my hair in my face and just hurling my life out. I was like a fountain spewing gross red half-digested rice. As soon as I finish vomiting, I look to my right and see my compost pile. I think, "Damn. Why didn't I just barf there? My vomit is organic...right?" So the next thing I do is call my PCVL/RAs and asked if vomit could go into the compost pile. Lo and behold it can! I mean shit I didn't want to waste a pound of rice, that could be used. So then I grab my shovel and next thing I know there's a sheet of vomit on top of my compost. I felt really good but I could never imagine myself in a small country in West Africa shoveling my own vomit into a compost pile at night. You know after you barf, you have this moment of clarity? Moment of health? Well, that happened, and I was almost crazy enough to go back out but I decided against it and got ready to go to bed. This is at 8:30 PM by the way.
I couldn't really drift off to sleep even though I was tired yet happy that I vomited and got it all out. I kept on laying, laying, laying there waiting for sleep to take me over but at 10:30 an arrow of nausea pierced me in the stomach and I wanted to barf. This barf-feeling could not be suppressed and try as I did, I ended up throwing up in my mosquito net, all over half my sheets and blanket. SWEET. Halfway through vomiting I managed to throw out everything I kept in a zip lock bag next to my pillow and dump my stomach contents in there but to no avail because of course there was a rip in the bottom small enough for all my vomit to drip through. And back onto my sheets. Needless to say I am a mix of confusion, sickness, and annoyance at that moment but I kept it cool, mostly because I didn't have the energy to do anything else. I cleaned up my tent by using the rest of my sheet and blanket to soak up all the vomit. I didn't want the rats or ants or whatever lives in my house at night to get all up in my vomitty sheets so I just threw it in my empty water bucket and put the lid on it. I was drained but realized I still needed new sheets but I only bought ONE sheet to Gambia... but guess what Ida bought me... two meters of fabric which I'm not using which is also long enough to extend past the length of my body. I threw the piece of fabric down, laid down, and went straight to bed.
I woke up at 2:30 and haven't drank water since my last vomit movement. Why? Because I didn't have time to wash my water filter and I have absolutely no reliable water source since the tap was broken. I'm thinking, "Well shit because I know I lost a metric boat load of electrolytes but I'm not dumb enough to drink well water at this point because I know my stomach can't take it... what do I do?"I decided to journal, forget my overwhelming thirst, and promised to call Ida at 4:30 AM before the 5 AM call to prayer and ask her to send someone over with some packaged water. At 4:30 AM I called Ida and was she awake? No. So I feel like shit for making her get up, on top of already feeling like shit, and she said she would deliver the water to me and to call the Peace Corps Medical Office. I dialed them up after that but they didn't respond. It took awhile before the Nurse called me back and I told her the scoop and they told me to keep them updated with my status.
Soooo I'm lying in bed, afraid to get up less I barf again, but I'm dying to pee. I don't feel queasy but I also don't want to risk elevating my body. At 6:30 AMish, Ida personally comes to deliver water herself, I ripped three packages of water and dumped it all into my three water bottles, had 1 liter of water and 1 liter of water with Gatorade. Ida was nice enough to communicate with them I wasn't feeling well, leave me alone to rest, wash my vomitty sheets after I rinse them through first, etc. She also got me a small cup of tea but all I tasted was plastic because it was boiling water in this small plastic cup and ugh it doesn't taste good but it was warmth in my stomach which felt nice. I drank through the plastic, showed Ida out, and went back to sleep for another hour. I woke up and decided it was time to get the rinsing over with. I don't know how I mustered the energy to do so, or the brain power to figure out how exactly I would rinse my sheets, but it worked and now I have even more vomit in my compost pile. I took the sheets out, health waning, told them what was happening and my mom noticed that my skin was hot. Great. They told me to go back into my house and that they'd make white porridge/congee for me, hell yeah. I went back into my house, sat, drank a lot of water, and waited for my breakfast to come. One of the ladies came into deliver it and actually returned my bucket which I had the dirty sheets in, which means they washed that shit right away. That was really sweet they were on top of taking care of me. She told me to eat it all and I really tried but my biggest desire was to lay down and sleep. I had a couple of spoonfuls before submitting to my bed again and she cleaned my place up a little, too.
I went to sleep for another hour until Elizabeth comes knocking at my door to check up on me. My head feels a lot stuffier than last night and I'm a bit dizzy but I let her in. She feels my temperature and determines that I have a bit of a fever, so I lie down while she gets me Tylenol and Ibuprofen and instructs me to drink water. She is such a mom and I love her for it because when you're sick in Africa, it's really nice to have a mother figure to be there for you. It's really funny because every time she gives me something I have to get up, unzip my mosquito net, go through another mosquito net, take the thing she wants to give me, retreat back into my first mosquito net, zip my mosquito net back up, and lie back down. It's pathetic, but there are no bugs getting through here. YOU SHALL NOT PASS. Elizabeth was a saint and took care of washing my water filter for me, instructed my family to fill my bidong up again because I used all the water in it to wash my sheets, and left to go to Ida's. She said she wasn't feeling well either, really achey all over. I wish I could do more but I couldn't.
I went back to sleep until 1:30 when Ida came to deliver me lunch. At first I didn't hear her and I think I scared her, haha. I got up to let her in but the smell of food reminded me of all my vomit last night so I didn't take any of it. She brought my breakfast congee out that I didn't finished and got me a tall glass of hot water. I put green tea in it and damn did it taste good. She left after checking up on me and she wasn't looking too good herself. Concern? Or just felt like shit? I couldn't decipher, I was too lost in my fever. I took the tea with me to bed and drifted off to sleep... only to be woken up an hour later because I felt like my butt was wet. My first thought: Fuck, did I pee myself? Because I'll be really upset. It turns out I didn't wet myself, I just spilled my tea. No worries, so I just take off my pants and resume sleeping. Half an hour later, the woman who delivered my breakfast comes to check up on me and tells me that my sheets are dry. I'm lying in my bed with panties and a tank top on and think, shit, since I threw my pants across the room and she was looking in from my window. I wrap the fabric I used as my sheet around me, got up to get the clean sheets, threw them back in bed, and went back to sleep. Fast thinking. Bless you Ida for getting me those two clutch meters of fabric.
By 4:00 PM, I wake back up and I'm drowning in my sweat. I deduced that either my fever broke or it was actually hot. It turned out to be both. I sat up and drank a bunch of water... and actually felt pretty good. That's a relative term. I was still hot and clammy as hell but had enough energy to wash my tent from any vomit shrapnel from last night. It was a success and luckily there wasn't much that tainted my tent. My energy reserves were just ending as Elizabeth walked over. I let her in and laid back in bed. She was happy that my fever broke but took my temperature anyways. It was just below the normal which explained why I felt dizzy and was a bit clammy. Right after she took my temperature she asks me who owned a fancy car in my compound and I said no one, but a minute after that, wailing broke out which only meant one thing - someone died.
SOMEONE DIED. While I'm feeling like death. This fricken timing is ridiculous. I gather 5 minutes for myself and watch as a stream of people pour into my compound and more women join in on the chorus of wailing. It is loud and can't be mistaken for anything else - it is all mourning. I finally receharged myself enough to go outside and ask what happened. They were all dropping the word "death" and the name "Bambo." I recognized the name but I never actually met the guy. I knew he was the son to one of my dad's two original wives (not my direct mom or namesake) since I wrote it down during my family tree assignment. As soon as the car started driving out, the gates to my compound closed and the women all gathered in a group, crying together. I was consoling them while Elizabeth went inside to call Ida. Elizabeth passed the phone to the person I was consoling and then told me Bambo was one of my brothers. He was completely fine in the morning and was out with his friends until he literally dropped down and died. I felt awful because I legitimately didn't know who he was! Elizabeth deduced it was probably an aneurism. Ida informed me that Bambo was born physically deformed and my family encouraged him to stay out of my way because they thought his physical appearance would scare me. Of course it wouldn't! But my family didn't know that. So, he ended up as my NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOR who listened to music in his backyard and I've never been able to see him.
Anyways, I hit another wall and and to retreat back into my house. After 20 minutes, I realized the sun was setting fast so I went outside to dump a few cups of water on my body and went back inside in time to catch Ida. She explained the situation to me. They think Bambo was sick internally but was perfectly fine on the outside so no one suspected anything wrong. It was just a perfectly normal day for him fetching firewood in the morning, going to his friends house, and while they were talking he just collapsed and died. The way death is so incorporated into every day life here is disturbing. It's literally a part of the circle of life. While my health is returning, my next door neighbor dies. While a child is born, another dies. It's hard to wrap my head around because it's so sobering. I even feel detached from it because it just happens all the time and it's absolutely awful. They absolutely mourn here for the dead but the body's usually buried before sundown on the day that the person passes, and life goes on. It goes on, albeit solemnly, but it goes on. In the States, if someone passes, it lingers on and the body usually isn't even buried until a week later. I'll have a deeper post about death in The Gambia and my feelings toward it later.
Ida told me to call the Med Office to update them, which I did. Both she and Elizabeth were on their way out since it was getting dark fast. As I was waiting for my dinner, Elizabeth ran back because she thought she left her keys in my house but it turns out she took mine, had hers all along, and had to run back. My dinner came and I felt bad they still had to cook for me even though there was a recent death. Crying would break out here and there, and I could see a queue of flashlights ambling in and out of my compound as both the men and women prepare for the funeral. One of the women came to deliver my dinner but as soon as I peeled back the lid, I saw a flurry of black specks all up in my congee and a twitching ant. I totally didn't blame them but I took the dinner back out and crashed in bed once again. This time, I fell asleep for 8 full hours and all I could hear while I drifted off was very abnormal silence that fell over my compound.
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