Sunday, November 8, 2009

Musings and Bumsters

So I have been in the Gambia now for four days and I wanted to share a few musings I've had lately and some thoughts on bumsters. (Explanations to follow)

Written November 5th

On our flight from Brussels to Banjul I glance out the window. Down below I saw the stark contrast of desert, turning to hills to mountain. And on the other side the mountain fell away to unfurl more hills and desert. I couldn't help but be struck, moved, touched by the beauty of this simple transition. More importantly the beauty of the fact that I am able to witness it. I suspect this is a feeling I'll be having a lot as I find myself living, working, laughing and "enjoying" in the Gambia! What crazy ridiculous luck do I have that I get to witness and experience all this. How on earth have I been so fortunate. And more importantly how do I repay this debt to the universe or whomever I owe my gratitude. I think for now the solution is merely mindfulness-recognizing these moments of amazing beauty--and appreciation with perspective that not everyone is so lucky.

And here's one for Dad who knows how much I love lists.

Things that happened today/last night to make me happy:
1) drinking cold beers at an African bar on a warm night.....ahhhhh bliss.
2) waking up, rolling out of bed and going to the beach
3) the humor of bumsters on the beach*
4) swimming in warm, salty, ocean water and then drinking cold Fanta from a glass bottle with a straw
5) getting an ice pop of bissap juice which is called "wanjo" here but is nonetheless delicious

* "Bumster." These are basically young men who spend their days working out on the beach with the goal of trying to impress white female tourists to hire them as an escort for a week and possibly parlay that to a green card. Honestly when you think about it it is a fairly disturbing and desperate phenomenon that really speaks to the endemic poverty in Gambia. But it's also just really amusing to see men doing windsprints, push ups and squat thrusts on the beach.

Finally a quote from a Mary Oliver called "Toad"
"About this cup we call a life. About happiness. And how good it feels, the heat of the sun between the shoulder blades."

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Dear packing, you are not my favorite.

So as I prepare to leave for The Gambia on November 3rd I have been forced to encounter one of my arch nemesis, packing. Packing and I have a long and complicated relationship but it basically boils down to the fact that I hate packing and resent having to do it. If I could have any magical powers I would chose to never have to pack again. True story.
Needless to say packing to move to West Africa for two plus years has seriously affected my relationship with packing. So I thought that I would walk you all through my process and then perhaps you would understand why this subject brings me such angst. (Or maybe I'm just overreacting)
It all started at Costco. Courtney and I had quite a lovely day last week exploring the joys of this American phenomenon. Everything in enormous quantities, at low prices, with excessive amounts of packaging. I mean seriously, does my bottle of Claritin-esque allergy medicine really need a 8 1/2 by 11 inch buffer of cardboard around it?? But I digress, so though my Costco trip really was helpful for providing me with lots of necessities that won't be as readily available in Gambia I ended up with an entire "Ling Ling" dumpling box of stuff which I then had to figure out how to fit into my two bag, 80 pound luggage limit.
Next let me introduce you to the "staging area" aka Casey's room. Casey's room is a perfect staging area as it is right next to my room and can be easily accessed at all hours of the day when I have one of my neurotic, packing related panics but is removed from my room so I don't have to constantly be looking at the piles. My relationship with the staging area was all working out well until Casey came home for the weekend and I had to move everything out of his room so he could sleep there of all things! But despite the stress that moving my staging area caused me I was happy to do so because it meant I got to spend time with Casey doing somewhat menial tasks like getting our hair cut, grocery shopping and buying him a wool coat.
But now Casey is gone, I don't have to go to work at the high school anymore and I therefore must confront the packing monster head on. The first attempt at packing did not go so well as Beth came over, I got distracted loading books on tape on my iPod and we both got distracted watching multi-racial Cinderella with Brandy, Whitney Huston, Bernadette Peters, Whoppi Goldberg and Victor Garber.
Yesterday I made attempt number two and it wasn't a complete disaster. I wanted to be organized so I separated the essential and non-essential items. Than I wanted to split things between my two bags so that if one got lost I would have a little of everything in both bags. But it quickly descended into chaos as the idea that it might all fit made me so joyous that I just started throwing everything into bags with no sense of order.
So that's a (not so quick) summary of my relationship with packing. Let me just say that I have been listening to "Graceland" by Paul Simon a lot and I truly believe this CD is keeping me on the edge of sanity. Small victories!

Monday, October 12, 2009

"I make for you a better email..."

In keeping with my general attitude of celebrating humor and ridiculousness I thought my first blog post should of course have nothing to do with the fact that I'm a) moving to The Gambia for two plus years or that I am b) grappling with the many practical and emotional conundrums that a move of this sort entails.

Rather, I would like to relate a particularly hilarious conversation I had with a very kind man at the Peace Corps travel office while booking my flight from Burlington, VT (where I've been living since graduating from Beloit in May 2008) to Philadelphia where my Peace Corps adventure finally begins.

{With no offense meant to the individual described, as he was truly quite lovely, imagine all of this going on in a very strong Indian sub-continent accent}

Lindsey: (I paraphrase here) Hi, I would like to book my ticket for staging. I'm supposed to meeting in Philadelphia on November 3rd to go to The Gambia.

Man: (After much discussion of addresses and the fact that my Peace Corps posting is sadly enough not in India) Ok, well Lindsey you see the airlines, they are saying that they have no money, and since they are having no money they will not be issuing the paper tickets. And we too we have no money so we will be needing an email address for you so we can send you the information for you to print a flight conformation.

Lindsey: (again paraphrasing) lindseyellisgreen@gmail.com

Man: Lindsey, I have an idea for you, we make for you a better email, "Lindsey goes to Gambia!"

(Later after more discussion of timing and other such arrangements)

Man: Now we have made the flight and I must ask you about your seat. Will you be wanting a window, wave goodbye to Mummy Daddy for th-reee years or will you be wanting sit on the aisle and cry.

Lindsey: Window please.

And so it goes, my first blog entry and a truly hilarious beginning to Peace Corps service.