Written on December 29th, 2011
Last week, on Friday December 23rd, I got into a Peace Corps car and left Kerr Jarga Jobe for the last time. I left behind my family, friends and the happy life I had built there over the past two years and now I'm here, facing the future and (of course) reflecting.
Goodbyes are always difficult. Goodbyes in The Gambia (for me) are made much more difficult by the fact that people very very rarely cry here. I on the other hand have crying as my default setting in most emotionally overwhelming situations so I knew that this fact alone would make the goodbyes here even more challenging. But really, in the weeks leading up to my departure I had very little idea of what to expect and this made the whole time very challenging and overwhelming.
Peace Corps talked to us a lot about planning our goodbyes. So I of course had a list of people to call, a list of people to visit, a list of compounds where I wanted to go and drink attaya one last time and a list of final lunch spots in Kerr Jarga to visit. But of course, when the time came my lists were only nominally helpful, because I found for me that the best course of action was to wake up every morning and ask myself, "What can I do today to find closure?" So I walked around a lot, spent hours lying on my toma's bed, played with the kids, and helped my host moms cook lunch. Some days I didn't feel like I wasn't doing anything or I would worry that I wasn't doing enough to say goodbye and have closure, that I would have regrets about the way I left Kerr Jarga; but I realized that I couldn't let doubts and "what ifs" paralyze my last days in village so I needed to just live in the moment and focus on the present.
My perfectly planned and orchestrated goodbye was completely destroyed (in an amazing way) on the morning of Friday, December 16th. It was like any other morning really, I was puttering around my house, making my bed, drinking tea, listening to the BBC, when suddenly my host fathers face appears in my window.
Baay Waly: "Ramatoulie, Ramatoulie, Ramatoulie" (urgently)
Me: "What?!!? What's going on?"
BW: "Yaay Sarjo (my second host mom who I have known is pregnant since August) had a baby."
Me: "WHAT?!?!? When?"
BW: "Just now."
Me: "BOY OR GIRL, BOY OR GIRL???"
BW: "Girl."
Me: "AHHHHH HOLD ON I'M COMING OUT."
BW: "Ok, may Allah grant her long life."
I busted out of my house only to be met by my first host mom, Yaay Amie, with a mischievous grin on her face. "Ramatoulie, Yaay Sarjo had a baby....its a boy." To which I replied, "Yaay Amie do you not know the difference between men and women?"
To explain my level of excitement and my families level of teasing when I found out Yaay Sarjo was pregnant I really wanted her to have a girl so I could finally have a toma (namesake). I joked with her about eating good food and staying healthy for my toma and in my last weeks in village had been telling her to hurry up and have the baby before I left village. So she had done it, right down to the wire, but she gave birth to my toma exactly a week before I was to leave Kerr Jarga. This was incredibly convenient timing because here the tradition is to wait a week after the child's birth before you give them a name. Meaning that my toma, Ramatoulie, would be given her name on the day that I left Kerr Jarga for good.
I couldn't think of a more beautiful way to end things here, by leaving behind a Ramatoulie Joof to continue to be a part of the family and community. What perfect symmetry, to leave behind the ultimate reminder of my love for this family and village; I hope as Ramatoulie grows up she feels the same love and support that I have felt in my compound and community. Of course the coming of my toma made saying goodbye all the more difficult. What an honor that my host father and mothers love and respect me enough to give one of their children my name. And, as I made the joke often, now the compound will never be missing Ramatoulie because even when I'm gone my toma will always be there.
My last few days in village were a whirlwind. Many programs and meetings held in my honor to thank me. Many gifts given, many of which will not make it back to America because of their sheer ugliness. Many tears (on my part), prayers and thank yous. On my last night I spent one final time lying out on a mat under the stars, looking up at the sky and contemplating the beauty of a world where I can be Lindsey Green and Ramatoulie Joof at the same time and feel completely comfortable, loved and accepted as both people. I couldn't bear the thought of being away from my family for even a minute so my two teenage host sisters, Menghe and Mberry, slept over in my house on the final night. We slept in a sweaty pile of sisterly love.
Friday morning brought the naming ceremony. The men of the village came to sit in our compound and pray while one man shaved the hair off the babies head, prayed for the baby and gave it a name. Her name, of course, was Ramatoulie. The whole compound had the same mood, equally ecstatic and sad because as we celebrated my toma's entrance into the world we all kept listening for the sound of the Peace Corps car pulling up. I did pretty well as far as crying in front of everyone was concerned but there were many quick trips to my back yard pit latrine to shed a few tears in private. Yet, when the car finally came, it was like a whirlwind, people stormed into my house, grabbed all my stuff, and within five minutes the car was packed and I was standing, staring at the dirt wondering how I got to this place and how I could possibly get in the car. Of course, the Lindsey reaction to this moment of decision was to start balling. My host father looked at me, looked at my host moms and siblings who at this point were all crying and yelled, "STOP CRYING." Which just made me and everyone else cry more. But it was time to just take that leap and leave, so I did the very un-Gambian thing of hugging my moms. Squeezing my little buddy Alieu. And then I remembered my cultural sensitivity so I said goodbye to Mam Goor, my two year old who I've known basically since he was born, by picking him up, licking his right palm and blowing in his right eye. (All strategies told to me by old ladies to prevent his grief over my leaving from making him sick). So even at my most intense and emotional there is always some weird cultural experience to be had.
And that was it, I was in the car and I was gone. It was incredibly strange but I felt liberated and ready to move on to the next thing. I feel sad when I remember saying goodbye but ultimately I feel complete satisfaction with my time in Kerr Jarga and I know I will take those people and memories with me no matter where my next steps take me. Hopefully my time spent in Kerr Jarga has made me more honest, compassionate, thoughtful and connected to the world and my place in it and I only hope I can make all of them proud. Especially my namesake, "small" Ramatoulie.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
A Thoughtful Tobaski
Written on November 7th, 2011
Another year and another Tobaski in the Gambia. Since it's the last I ultimately find myself thinking back to the first Tobaski in Sare Samba (my training village). Then I wasn't even one month in the Gambia and I'm fairly certain I had absolutely no idea what to expect from my time here, I didn't even know the name "Kerr Jarga" and it certainly wasn't a part of me as it is now.
I recently reread a letter my dad sent me on the 10th anniversary of September 11th. I was struck by how he described all of the energy put into Islamaphobia and fear since 9/11 as a "horrible waste." This is made crystal clear to me on a day like today. Just as we gather to feast and count our blessings on Thanksgiving, my Muslim friends and family pause today to give thanks, ask for forgiveness and pray that the coming year will bring as many blessings as the last--if not more. How selfish of us as Americans, how heartless for us to demonize a religion that holds so many of the same values as us. How self-centered and self righteous are we to believe that an entire group of people devote their lives to hating us and wishing for our destruction when it really couldn't be any farther from the truth. The people I have met--not just met--the people I know here in my heart and soul spend their days just like everyone else; thinking about their families, putting food on the table (actually, in the food bowl) and working hard to find a little security. Just as we are reluctant to generalize Christians we should check ourselves and be reluctant to generalize Muslims. My Gambian friends and family only share one similarity with those we deem to be Muslim fundamentalists--they pray to the same God, Allah--but I think we all know that's where the similarity ends.
On this last Tobaski I am reminded of how much is lost when we generalize about anything, Islam, Africa, Peace Corps, Kerr Jarga Jobe. Every thing, person, day and moment is different and unique. If we can appreciate this and revel in it then we are able to find not only peace but much greater understanding. I still struggle with this but in my time here I've realized that when I start to generalize I close off not just my options but myself.
Another year and another Tobaski in the Gambia. Since it's the last I ultimately find myself thinking back to the first Tobaski in Sare Samba (my training village). Then I wasn't even one month in the Gambia and I'm fairly certain I had absolutely no idea what to expect from my time here, I didn't even know the name "Kerr Jarga" and it certainly wasn't a part of me as it is now.
I recently reread a letter my dad sent me on the 10th anniversary of September 11th. I was struck by how he described all of the energy put into Islamaphobia and fear since 9/11 as a "horrible waste." This is made crystal clear to me on a day like today. Just as we gather to feast and count our blessings on Thanksgiving, my Muslim friends and family pause today to give thanks, ask for forgiveness and pray that the coming year will bring as many blessings as the last--if not more. How selfish of us as Americans, how heartless for us to demonize a religion that holds so many of the same values as us. How self-centered and self righteous are we to believe that an entire group of people devote their lives to hating us and wishing for our destruction when it really couldn't be any farther from the truth. The people I have met--not just met--the people I know here in my heart and soul spend their days just like everyone else; thinking about their families, putting food on the table (actually, in the food bowl) and working hard to find a little security. Just as we are reluctant to generalize Christians we should check ourselves and be reluctant to generalize Muslims. My Gambian friends and family only share one similarity with those we deem to be Muslim fundamentalists--they pray to the same God, Allah--but I think we all know that's where the similarity ends.
On this last Tobaski I am reminded of how much is lost when we generalize about anything, Islam, Africa, Peace Corps, Kerr Jarga Jobe. Every thing, person, day and moment is different and unique. If we can appreciate this and revel in it then we are able to find not only peace but much greater understanding. I still struggle with this but in my time here I've realized that when I start to generalize I close off not just my options but myself.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Caught Up In It All
Written on November 3rd, 2011
I haven't written a blog in a very long time, more accurately I haven't written at all--few journals, no letters and only one poem--I would attribute it to a spectacular and unique case of writer's block. It's not that nothing has happened--in fact--everything has happened and as I go through it all I haven't felt the urge to sit down and write about it. Just as you don't blog about every successful meeting at work or funny Friday night out with friends, my level of comfort here is such that I don't necessarily feel like my daily activities are triumphs worthy of a written record. I feel in fact that my sense of normalcy in my life and work is a great sign of my success here as a Peace Corps volunteer. If you're going to be a great volunteer at some point you need to get so caught up in it all that nothing and everything is remarkable at the same time.
Our Country Director, Cornish, recently sent us this poem which is think is a very accurate reflection of this evolution.
It is a progression of connection…
at first, you are in your head and it’s
American, meets other.
Then you get more grounded, and
volunteer, meets villager or teacher, meets student.
And then, if you are lucky, the simplicity settles in, and it’s
human meets human,
heart to heart.
--Meleia Egger, RPCV Malawi 2008-2010
So though I've been floating around in my Gambian bubble I have in fact been busy.
Vacation in Guinea-Conakry
I escaped the end of a steamy Ramadan and found myself in the Fouta Djalon region of Guinea-Conakry breathing the mountain air and taking in the breathtaking views, blue mountain sky and swimming in crystal waterfalls. I went with six other volunteers, including my good friends Brian and Erica. We hiked for six days, squeezed into tiny cars, ate new and different street food, swung in hammocks, played charades, told life stories, discovered markets, met a missionary, went on a picnic with her, danced at a night club with middle schoolers and bumped along the worst road ever. It was a joyous adventure in a place I probably would never have seen otherwise. It got me ready to go home to the Gambia but also got me excited for travelling after Peace Corps.
Camp GAGA
A group of female PCVs worked together to organize and run a week long environmental awareness and leadership camp for 30 middle school girls and five teachers. I chaperoned two girls from my school, Hawa and Saffie, and co-taught a couple great lessons. Most notable was a lesson to explain population growth where we counted popcorn kernels into a jar to represent the worlds population growth over time to today's figure of 7 billion. It was inspiring to see the girls making the connection between the global community and the implications of population growth for themselves and their families in the Gambia.
The week was long and tiring but it was very special to be able to give the girls an opportunity to sing, dance, laugh, play and be kids without all the adult responsibilities they usually have at home.
The Fatou Show
This year is the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps globally and the 45th anniversary of Peace Corps in The Gambia. PCTG has decided to bombard the Gambian population with media to remind them of our presence here and what the heck we are doing here. The first part of this media campaign was for Peace Corps to appear on the "Fatou Show," a Gambian version of Oprah. At the end of September many PCVs and staff went over to the studio for the live taping where we spoke in local language, danced and some PCVs admitted to having Gambian significant others. Of course the Gambian-ness of the show was not lost on us as the power went out halfway through the show and we waited in the dark for a few minutes until the generator was turned on.
COS Conference
We all know that the end is near so in the beginning of October my group had our COS conference which is a chance for PC to give us information about what we need to do to wrap things up before we leave and we get a chance to work on our resumes and start a job search. Eek!!I think though we came out of COS conference with good information and advice the economy and job market in America is just plain scary right now and it is going to be difficult. Aside from all the scary future planning stuff we organized many different fun social events, the finale of which was the Gambian Prom. We rented out a nice restaurant in Senegambia for the night--had a delicious Mexican buffet. Each person in our group toasted a different person in the group and it was very touching how everyone had such nice and genuine things to say about each other. The night ended with a group slow dance--really cheesy and beautiful! It is rare to be part of a group of people who show such mutual love and respect to each other and it has been such a treat to spend the last two years working with this group of people. It is so wonderful to say that not only have I come to love and respect my Gambian community members but I feel the same way about my PC colleagues. Coming back to America is going to be hard (don't even ask about my very poor grasp of how to speak proper English) but I feel very lucky knowing that I'm rejoining life in America with such a great support system of fellow returning volunteers.
Bike Trek
In my first year of service the HIV Bike Trek stands out as one of the best projects I did and the point at which I really hit my stride as a PCV. In July we all started talking about doing it all again, using our experience from 2010 to hopefully make the project more successful. So we expanded the Bike Trek from a one day to two day curriculum. Myself and Kelsey, another health volunteer, were selected to write a curriculum for Day 2 focusing on life skills and speaking out. We worked together for a few months drawing from our experiences teaching life skills here to write a lesson that we hoped would empower students to speak up and share what they've learned about HIV. If I do say so myself its a really strong lesson and we were very excited to see it taught on the bike trek. For the 2011 Bike Trek we had chosen to bike from Bansang to Basse and Suduwol to Basse in the CRR and URR, teaching at two schools on each leg of the trek for a total of four schools and about 700 students. But.....as always here.....the best laid plans are often not to be, and this was just another example because a week before the trek was supposed to start the President of the Gambia invited us to dinner smack in the middle of the Bike Trek (more on dinner with Jammeh later). So after a lot of shuffling we reworked the Bike Trek and taught four schools in two days. I was on team Badari in the URR and we spent four days and three nights sleeping in a classroom at Badari basic cycle school--fighting off bats and locking our door with pliers at night and working as a team during the day to educate about 120 students about HIV making sure to define sex, do a condom demonstration in front of thirteen year olds and generally being over the top. Due to the scheduling changes the Bike Trek didn't actually involve a lot of biking but it was still very powerful thinking about how many students we reached in two days and gave them information that they probably had never heard before. Just like the first time we did it, the Bike Trek for me serves as a great example of the power of PCVs working together, being creative and having a profound impact.
H.E.
Because this year is the 50th Anniversary for Peace Corps many PC countries have been having celebrations to mark the anniversary. For PCTG our celebration was marked by a very special invitation by the President of the Gambia; His Excellency (H.E.) Chiekh Professor Dr. Alhagie Yaya AJJ Jammeh, to a celebration of Peace Corps held at his rural residence in the village of Kanilai. On Thursday October 27th we all piled into buses at the Peace Corps Office in Kombo and health by police escort the one and a half hour drive to Kanilai. There we were served a feast for lunch after which we went to the parade grounds where we sat in the bandstand under ceiling fans and awaited the arrival of H.E. He roared in driving his Range Rover and then enjoyed a three hour program highlighting PCVs and their work in the Gambia. He was very kind, greeting each of us personally and even giving all of us a gift of clothing. The program ended at around 11:30 pm and we then went off to enjoy a delicious buffet meal. It was a great honor to be invited to Kanilai and now I can check meeting the president of a country off of my bucket list.
So there you have it. The remarkable and subsequently ordinary life of Ramatoulie.
I haven't written a blog in a very long time, more accurately I haven't written at all--few journals, no letters and only one poem--I would attribute it to a spectacular and unique case of writer's block. It's not that nothing has happened--in fact--everything has happened and as I go through it all I haven't felt the urge to sit down and write about it. Just as you don't blog about every successful meeting at work or funny Friday night out with friends, my level of comfort here is such that I don't necessarily feel like my daily activities are triumphs worthy of a written record. I feel in fact that my sense of normalcy in my life and work is a great sign of my success here as a Peace Corps volunteer. If you're going to be a great volunteer at some point you need to get so caught up in it all that nothing and everything is remarkable at the same time.
Our Country Director, Cornish, recently sent us this poem which is think is a very accurate reflection of this evolution.
It is a progression of connection…
at first, you are in your head and it’s
American, meets other.
Then you get more grounded, and
volunteer, meets villager or teacher, meets student.
And then, if you are lucky, the simplicity settles in, and it’s
human meets human,
heart to heart.
--Meleia Egger, RPCV Malawi 2008-2010
So though I've been floating around in my Gambian bubble I have in fact been busy.
Vacation in Guinea-Conakry
I escaped the end of a steamy Ramadan and found myself in the Fouta Djalon region of Guinea-Conakry breathing the mountain air and taking in the breathtaking views, blue mountain sky and swimming in crystal waterfalls. I went with six other volunteers, including my good friends Brian and Erica. We hiked for six days, squeezed into tiny cars, ate new and different street food, swung in hammocks, played charades, told life stories, discovered markets, met a missionary, went on a picnic with her, danced at a night club with middle schoolers and bumped along the worst road ever. It was a joyous adventure in a place I probably would never have seen otherwise. It got me ready to go home to the Gambia but also got me excited for travelling after Peace Corps.
Camp GAGA
A group of female PCVs worked together to organize and run a week long environmental awareness and leadership camp for 30 middle school girls and five teachers. I chaperoned two girls from my school, Hawa and Saffie, and co-taught a couple great lessons. Most notable was a lesson to explain population growth where we counted popcorn kernels into a jar to represent the worlds population growth over time to today's figure of 7 billion. It was inspiring to see the girls making the connection between the global community and the implications of population growth for themselves and their families in the Gambia.
The week was long and tiring but it was very special to be able to give the girls an opportunity to sing, dance, laugh, play and be kids without all the adult responsibilities they usually have at home.
The Fatou Show
This year is the 50th anniversary of Peace Corps globally and the 45th anniversary of Peace Corps in The Gambia. PCTG has decided to bombard the Gambian population with media to remind them of our presence here and what the heck we are doing here. The first part of this media campaign was for Peace Corps to appear on the "Fatou Show," a Gambian version of Oprah. At the end of September many PCVs and staff went over to the studio for the live taping where we spoke in local language, danced and some PCVs admitted to having Gambian significant others. Of course the Gambian-ness of the show was not lost on us as the power went out halfway through the show and we waited in the dark for a few minutes until the generator was turned on.
COS Conference
We all know that the end is near so in the beginning of October my group had our COS conference which is a chance for PC to give us information about what we need to do to wrap things up before we leave and we get a chance to work on our resumes and start a job search. Eek!!I think though we came out of COS conference with good information and advice the economy and job market in America is just plain scary right now and it is going to be difficult. Aside from all the scary future planning stuff we organized many different fun social events, the finale of which was the Gambian Prom. We rented out a nice restaurant in Senegambia for the night--had a delicious Mexican buffet. Each person in our group toasted a different person in the group and it was very touching how everyone had such nice and genuine things to say about each other. The night ended with a group slow dance--really cheesy and beautiful! It is rare to be part of a group of people who show such mutual love and respect to each other and it has been such a treat to spend the last two years working with this group of people. It is so wonderful to say that not only have I come to love and respect my Gambian community members but I feel the same way about my PC colleagues. Coming back to America is going to be hard (don't even ask about my very poor grasp of how to speak proper English) but I feel very lucky knowing that I'm rejoining life in America with such a great support system of fellow returning volunteers.
Bike Trek
In my first year of service the HIV Bike Trek stands out as one of the best projects I did and the point at which I really hit my stride as a PCV. In July we all started talking about doing it all again, using our experience from 2010 to hopefully make the project more successful. So we expanded the Bike Trek from a one day to two day curriculum. Myself and Kelsey, another health volunteer, were selected to write a curriculum for Day 2 focusing on life skills and speaking out. We worked together for a few months drawing from our experiences teaching life skills here to write a lesson that we hoped would empower students to speak up and share what they've learned about HIV. If I do say so myself its a really strong lesson and we were very excited to see it taught on the bike trek. For the 2011 Bike Trek we had chosen to bike from Bansang to Basse and Suduwol to Basse in the CRR and URR, teaching at two schools on each leg of the trek for a total of four schools and about 700 students. But.....as always here.....the best laid plans are often not to be, and this was just another example because a week before the trek was supposed to start the President of the Gambia invited us to dinner smack in the middle of the Bike Trek (more on dinner with Jammeh later). So after a lot of shuffling we reworked the Bike Trek and taught four schools in two days. I was on team Badari in the URR and we spent four days and three nights sleeping in a classroom at Badari basic cycle school--fighting off bats and locking our door with pliers at night and working as a team during the day to educate about 120 students about HIV making sure to define sex, do a condom demonstration in front of thirteen year olds and generally being over the top. Due to the scheduling changes the Bike Trek didn't actually involve a lot of biking but it was still very powerful thinking about how many students we reached in two days and gave them information that they probably had never heard before. Just like the first time we did it, the Bike Trek for me serves as a great example of the power of PCVs working together, being creative and having a profound impact.
H.E.
Because this year is the 50th Anniversary for Peace Corps many PC countries have been having celebrations to mark the anniversary. For PCTG our celebration was marked by a very special invitation by the President of the Gambia; His Excellency (H.E.) Chiekh Professor Dr. Alhagie Yaya AJJ Jammeh, to a celebration of Peace Corps held at his rural residence in the village of Kanilai. On Thursday October 27th we all piled into buses at the Peace Corps Office in Kombo and health by police escort the one and a half hour drive to Kanilai. There we were served a feast for lunch after which we went to the parade grounds where we sat in the bandstand under ceiling fans and awaited the arrival of H.E. He roared in driving his Range Rover and then enjoyed a three hour program highlighting PCVs and their work in the Gambia. He was very kind, greeting each of us personally and even giving all of us a gift of clothing. The program ended at around 11:30 pm and we then went off to enjoy a delicious buffet meal. It was a great honor to be invited to Kanilai and now I can check meeting the president of a country off of my bucket list.
So there you have it. The remarkable and subsequently ordinary life of Ramatoulie.
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