1) I became a resident of Saare Samba:
My training village was a truly magical experience. Saare Samba is small, tucked away 5 k off the main road and nestled in the "armpit" of the Casamance/Gambia boarder. It is the kind of place where everyone knows every ones business and you are truly welcome everywhere. The pencha (big wooden bench) under a large mango tree was the perfect place to relax, the water tap a place to socialize and I literally could not go 5 feet without someone calling my name. Speaking of....
2) I Changed my name:
Well not really but I adopted a Gambian name- Ramata (which at my permanent site has been changed to Ramatoulie). One of our first days in village we had a naming ceremony where we were wrapped in a white cotton shawl, our head were mock shaved and we were given new names by our host family. Therefore we all have namesakes "tomas". Mine was my host mother, there is really no easy way to describe my relationship with her. After she gave me her name I got to know her more and even though we can barely communicate I am in awe of her. She works hard, loves and cares for her family and has a great sense of humor. She could do pretty dead on impressions of all of the Peace Corps trainees in the village.
3) Thanksgiving in The Gambia:
We spent Thanksgiving all together at a tourist camp called Tendaba where we did all of our technical training. Thanksgiving was definitely an experience. We had been able to ask for ingredients in advance to make our favorite T-day recipes so I ended up making apple crisp with the help of others. But the wackiest experience happened in the making of the corn bread. The corn meal boxes had little white worms in them so we had to sift through them. We had an assembly line of plates and spoons, smashing down the cornmeal to see if worms crawled out and then removing them. It took some real teamwork but in the end the corn bread was really good!
4) An Encore to Tobaski:
The day after Thanksgiving was Tobaski, a huge Muslim holiday where each family sacrifices and eats a ram. I experienced this holiday before when I lived in Dakar but experiencing it in the village was really different. Most families took 3 days off from working in the fields. As my host father, Ousman, said, "The first day we only eat, the second day we enjoy." We did eat, almost an entire ram and we did enjoy dancing by moonlight and drinking attaya. I figured out the reason you have a 3rd day off because the third day everyone is sick from eating and enjoying. I, and my pit latrine, were luckily spared.
5) We all Went a bit Crazy:
It would not be doing justice to my experience of the last 8 weeks if I didn't talk about my mental experience. Imagine being reverted to a 3 year old status at best at 23 years old. Learning a new language is not easy and neither is being completely immersed in a new and completely different culture. I had no doubt that I would adapt and adjust but still there were some moments when I wished I could do more than greet people and express basic needs like and overly verbose 3 year old.
The stress of it all caused us to find some very small/strange things instantly hilarious. Like figuring out how to use the word "waame" which means "unpredictable meteorological phenomenon." And the day that while studying negation in Wolof class we figured out how to say, "You don't know me, I'm crazy." In wolof--a phrase I promptly heard my training mate Wells yell at his little sister when she was bugging him.
6) Imparting American Culture:
One goal of Peace Corps is to teach other about America and its people. Here's how I'm doing my part-
* I gave my host brother Talla a singing greeting card that sings about dancing. Using my broken Wolof I translated the lyrics and he carried it around calling it his radio. Something most of us would have quickly disposed of has given him endless pleasure.
* I taught my host brothers and sisters "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes" and "The Macarana." The latter they had trouble pronouncing so they keep calling it the "Macaroni"
* I got a paint your own menorah in my care package from Beth and used it as an opportunity to teach my host sisters and brothers how to paint. They loved painting it and it is now hanging on the wall in my very Muslim host fathers room--oh irony!
7) Getting Lost:
I was able to spend Christmas with all of the trainees at Tendaba. Peace Corps was sure to provide us with lots of activities so we would not spiral into home sickness. One activity, on Christmas Eve, was the Marathon March. The Marathon March is supposed to be a 27 k hike through mud flats, brush, river and rice fields, making a circle. But for our group walking for 27 k and about 7 hours would have been to easy. Instead less than half way through our hike the guide led us into really tall (over 7 feet) grass and promptly got us lost. We were trying to get to the river (Gambia's largest natural resource) but we couldn't find it. The guide would climb up in a tree, look both ways and just look perplexed. Not a good sign. So we wandered around lost in the grass for 4 hours. Back tracked to find our way out and then walked back the way we had come, never reaching the river. All in all we were walking about 10 hours and walked about 30 k. The upshot was I slept like a baby that night and was completely justified in spending all of Christmas day lying by the pool reading.
8) I Live Here:
The past few days I finally visited my permanent site, i.e. the village I will call home for the next 2 years. My village is Ker Jarga Jobe on Gambia's North Bank about 30 k from the ferry to Banjul. The village is larger than Saare Samba but its not huge, it has about 2,000 people. There is a health center in the neighboring village (Kuntair) which is 1 k away. There is also a skills center in Ker Jarga where women learn how to make different crafts, fabric, bags etc. I have been impressed by how welcoming everyone here has been. They are clearly very excited to have a PCV. My host family is growing on me--it is bigger than my training village host family. I now have 2 moms and a formidable host father- Baay Waly-who is a mason. He is really concerned about looking out for me which I'm sure is something my real dad will appreciate. I have 10 host brothers and sisters and have yet to get all of their names straight. All in all Ker Jarga is picturesque and I can definitely see myself happily living there for the next two years.
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