Vicky in The Gambia

Greetings from Mr and Mrs Sonko!

2012-03-02T15:11:00.001Z

On the 29th February Nfamara and I tied the knot making us officially Mr and Mrs Sonko!!

It was an interesting day though not as straight forward as one might imagine a civil wedding to be! However once all the appropriate people were given their 'incentives' and all the unkown 'well wishers' paid to bugger off we managed to complete all the necessary paperwork and also enjoyed a lovely evening meal at a super hotel called Ngala Lodge.

Nfamara and I would like to thank everyone who expressed their best wishes and hopefully in the not too distant future I will be able to introduce you all to my wonderful husband!

Mrs and Mr Sonko

Some of my VSO friends and Nfamara's family who attended the signing

Waiting in the hall

Not quite married yet!

Reading the documents

Reading them aloud!

Nfamara signing

Me signing!

It's official - Mr and Mrs!!!

The lovely couple (also getting married on the same day) who lent us their rings?!! (That's a whole story in itself!!)

The wedding car (thanks to Suky who got ribbons to decorate the taxi!!) The driver assured us that the 'F' was the right way round when you sit in the car!!

The 'V' works fine which ever way you look at it!

The happy couple at Ngala Lodge

Catherine, Suky, Me, Lynn and Mary at Ngala Lodge

Daniel, Nathan, Nfamara and Gareth at Ngala Lodge

Suky and Nathan

Mary and Catherine

Daniel, Gareth and Lynn

Me and Nfamara

Nfamara at the end of the night

Me at the end of a lovely day!

Wow that's a big one!!

2012-03-02T13:53:00.000Z

Some of the boys from my compound were called to the garden the other day to help with a situation! The situation was a HUGE snake!

The boys calmly killed it and then carried it home in order to skin it (apparently you can sell the skin). I am told that some people eat snake but the Ceesay Kunda boys said that they wouldn't be eating it.

Though it was fascinating seeing such a big snake I am slightly alarmed by the fact that a snake of such size was living so close to where I live! I think that during my last few weeks here in The Gambia I will have to ensure that I actually do wear covered shoes when walking around at night!!! (Not that covered shoes would make a big difference if a snake that size was ready for the attack!!)

The journey to school

2012-02-23T19:21:00.000Z

As part of my role here in The Gambia I sometimes go out to schools with the monitoring team. Some of the 105 schools in the region are on the main road but the majority of them are off the road and scattered all across the countryside / bush land.

Whenever you go out to schools on monitoring visits it's fair to assume that it's going to be a bumpy ride however yesterday being thrown around in the back of the monitoring vehicle was the least of our problems - we had water to cross!

We went to monitor the school on the island of Jinack. There are four islands at Jinack, two of them owned by Gambia and the other two by Senegal.

For Suky (the other VSO) and I it was more like a day trip to Jinack than a monitoring exercise but between taking pictures of the exciting boat ride, the sandy surroundings and the coconut trees we did manage to compose ourselves enough to monitor the school on the island!!!

There is Jinack just over the water. At least we don't have to take that pathetic little boat that you can see!! Oh wait.....

The monitoring team (plus me who is taking the picture!!) From left to right, Suky, Tafa, Paul and Fabola

.....preparing to get in that 'pathetic little boat'!!!

Off we go!!!!

Jinack

The school at Jinack

One of the beaches

Ready for the boat trip back to the mainland

A very special wedding

2012-02-23T18:51:00.000Z

A few weeks ago in Kerewan there was a very special wedding. It wasn't a big affair but it was a memorable occasion especially for me as I was the person getting married! That's right - me!!!

I had a local Muslim wedding here in Kerewan. I'm not a Muslim though my husband is, and I wasn't actually at the Mosque when our marriage was announced but announced it was!

I spent the day and evening at my husband’s compound chatting with family and friends. It was a traditional Gambian marriage but by western standards it didn't really resemble a wedding at all!!! My husband and I intend to have a civil wedding here in The Gambia next week on the 29th February.

My husband is called Omar Sonko but friends and family call him Nfamara (I know that doesn't look like a shortened version of Omar but calling somebody Nfamara is a way of showing respect for that persons father/grandfather or uncle).

Early food preparation

Don't get too attached to this goat.....

The goat being slaughtered

Me with Nfamara's two sisters, Fatoumata to the left of the picture and Sainabou to the right

Nfamara with some of his nephews

Family (Nfamara's dad is the man sat with the children, three of his grandchildren, on the far left of the picture)

Nathan holding baby Assmao

The happy couple!

Some of my friends (the Kerewan crew!)

Nfamara's dad (Sulyman) on the left with two of his brothers

Nfamara and his friends (the boys hangout!)


At the Mosque (the two white guys are Nathan and Gareth - part of the Kerewan crew!)

The crew!!! From left to right, Nathan (Peace Corp), Me, Nfamara (husband), Suky (VSO) and Gareth (VSO)

The happy couple again!

Suky and I posing with some family members/guests

More posing...

...more guests...

....and more....

...and more!

Nfamara with some friends and family

Home for Christmas

2012-01-30T11:14:00.000Z

After 16 months in The Gambia I finally got the opportunity to go home (back to the UK) for Christmas and the New Year.

I had a wonderful time and it was great to see everyone. It was a bit cold but I survived!! I ate a lot (had to catch up on the sweet treats from the UK), drank and was merry. I had a fantastic Christmas with my super family.

School Pictures

2011-12-01T22:36:00.000Z

On a recent visit to Minteh Kunda Lower Basic School I decided to take a few pictures.

Men and their machines

2011-11-19T10:28:00.002Z

Recently I went to one of the villages where Nfamara has been working. The village is called Kerr Kartim and is very close to the Senegalese border. SWAMI (the company which Nfamara works for) have been contracted to do the digging in preparation for a water pipe. Currently the villagers have to get all their water from wells but in the next few days they should have a water supply and some taps ('pumpo' in Mandinka).

The village is inhabited by a Wolof community and is very traditional and picturesque (that's if you look past the industrial machinery currently working there!) The people in Kerr Kartim seem really nice and friendly and lots of children came out to look at me! One of the villagers made me a cup of tea!

I took a few pictures of Nfamara at work and even had a little go myself! I think I filled more of the hole in than digging it out though!

That's Nfamara sat in the machine to the front of the picture

The pipe going into the hole

A nice straight line

Nfamara in action

A wonderful Tobaski

2011-11-14T18:21:00.001Z

This year I spent Tobaski (Eid al-Adha) with the Sonko family. Nfamara came home for a few days and also my friend Lucy (VSO from Soma) came to stay. So Lucy, Suky (the new VSO in Kerewan) and I all celebrated this special feast at Sonko Kunda.

Though this was my second Tobaski in The Gambia it was the first time in my life that I’ve actually purchased live-stock!! As a gift to the Sonko family I brought them a ram. I tried not to get too attached in the hour or so the ram and I spent together but Lucy and I secretly named him!!

We all had a wonderful day and to make it extra special Nfamara and I wore 'ashobi' (which means we had matching material for our clothes).

If you want to know more about Tobaski in The Gambia check out the link below:

http://www.accessgambia.com/information/tobaski-feast-festival.html

My (our) ram. Purchased at a 'lumo' (big weekly market) and being transported to the 'garage' ready for the trip back to Kerewan

My (our) ram

The slaughter of a Sonko ram (not mine!!)

Dead Sonko ram

My (our) ram about to be slaughtered

Good-bye!

The slaughtered rams.

Lamin (Nfamara's eldest brother) and Sulyman Sonko (Nfamara's dad)

Alhagie (another of Nfamara's brothers) preparing meat

Nfamara cutting the meat (Sulyman, Nfamra's cousin helping)

Sulyman Sonko and Lamin

Nfamara's 'sparton' pose!

Nfamara being silly with the ram skin!

Meat for pre-luch munching

Me and some of the women at Sonko Kunda

Eee-be, Fatoumata, Aimee, Fatoumata and Surdase

Lucy with Fatoumta and Aimee

Nfamara and I in our 'ashobi'

Me and baby Asmao

Nfamara making 'lait'

Lucy and Suky in Nfamara's house at Sonko Kunda

Have you seen one like this before?

2011-10-23T22:15:00.000+01:00

I saw this strange 'bug' in my back yard the other day. At first I thought it was a leaf but then I realised it had legs!!!

After close inspection I could see that one of its wings was damaged (that's probably why it was stranded in my back yard).

Size guide!

Kaddy Jatou Susso's baby - Assmao

2011-10-11T14:31:00.000+01:00

I want to thank all those who expressed their sympathies regarding Kaddy Jatou Susso's death. It has been a difficult time for everybody but slowly emotions are settling and life is carrying on.

Many people have asked after Kaddy's baby (Assmao) so I wanted to reassure everybody that Assmao seems happy and healthy. She is still living at Sonko Kunda and stays with her grandmother (her father's mother).

Mimuna, the wife of another of Nfamara's brothers, feeds Assmao and also helps care for her. Mimuna is the mother of Ee-be (the little boy brewing attayah in the 'brewing at an early age' post) and she also has a baby girl called Isatou (who is about 8 months old now).

Assmao (sleeping beauty)

Assmao (awake)

Mimuna and baby Isatou

Baby baby-sitting!

2011-10-07T16:38:00.001+01:00

When I returned from work today, little Kaddy was playing with her baby sister Sarjo (almost 5 months old now!) and also with Mama (from Ceesay Kunda). They all looked really cute so I couldn't resist taking a picture!!

Kaddy (sat down), Sarjo (sat between Kaddy's legs) and Mama.

Happy Mama! (Mama is a similiar age to my niece Hannah. Watching Mama change so much in the 14 months that I've been here always makes me think about Hannah).

Nfamara at Farafenni

2011-10-07T16:20:00.001+01:00

Just over two weeks ago a construction company in Farafenni contacted Nfamara because they needed an 'operator' (Nafamara's trade is in operating excavation machinery however work is very limited and in the year that I have been here, he's only been employed for a few days at a time - when not 'employed' he works on his families’ farm and takes any other odd job, such as unloading delivery lorries etc, whenever he gets the chance)

Well the company in Farafenni have required Nfamara's services longer than initially expected and now he has re-located to Farafenni until the work finishes. Great for Nfamara - not so great for me!!!

Last weekend I decided to go and visit him and we had a wonderful time. On Saturday evening one of his friends (Omar) came over and took Nfamara and I to a fishing village called Ballingo. When we arrived the fishermen were bringing in their catch and I couldn't believe the size of some of the fish!!

Big fish!

Nfamara and Omar

Another big fish!

Nfamara at the farm!

2011-10-07T15:53:00.000+01:00

The Sonko's have some farm land just outside Kerewan and every year they grow ground-nuts (peanuts) and cous. This year they are even growing water melon! (They also grow rice but in a different location because rice fields are swampy areas).

The men tend to the 'farm' and the women work at the rice fields and the 'gardens' (where they grow vegetables).

Whenever I get the chance, I go to Sonko Kunda just after 2pm (prayer time) and pick up the 'food bowl' (prepared by some of the women on the compound) and take it out to the men at the farm. Then the Sonko men (and anyone else working at the farm) and myself, all sit together (in a super little shelter built by one of Nfamara's brothers) and eat.

I took these pictures of Nfamara at the farm a while ago but I've only just got round to posting them!! Very soon the ground-nuts and cous will be ready for harvesting.

Nfamara stood in front of the 'shelter'

Ground-nuts!!

The bike that brings the lunch!!

Ground-nuts to the left of the picture, cous to the right!

Brewing from an early age!

2011-10-07T15:29:00.001+01:00

Lots of people here love 'attayah' (the green tea) and everywhere you go you will see people (usually men) sitting under a mango tree with their friends, drinking attayah. (Some women do drink it but they rarely sit and brew it, they'll often let then men brew and then take a glass or two at the compound whilst getting on with their daily chores).

Men of all ages seem to like attayah and once you get talking to people about it you will discover that individuals have their favourite brands of green tea and their particular way of brewing it.

Well last week I was at Sonko Kunda (Nfamara's compound) and I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw little Ee-be (Ebrima) tendering to the hot coals and brewing attayah!! Ee-be is about 4 and though his tea is not to the taste of the adults at Sonko Kunda, his lukewarm, extra sugary version seems to go down a treat with the other children on the compound!

Kaddy Jatou Susso

2011-09-27T08:49:00.002+01:00

Just over a year ago Kaddy Jatou Susso married Sherrifo Sonko (one of Nfamara's brothers). 14 days ago she gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. 7 days ago she celebrated a naming ceremony for her new baby. Yesterday I chatted with her on the compound as she cradled her daughter and last night she passed away. Today she will be buried.

I was informed that at 11pm last night she had chest pains and was taken to the local health centre and that she passed away an hour later. Cause of death unknown.

People here tell me not to cry and that this is God's will (In sa Allah). I can't stop crying, crying for Kaddy Jatou Susso, her baby, her husband, her family and her friends but also I can't stop crying for a people so familiar with death and suffering that they have had to learn to rationalise such sadness, accept it as God's will and quickly move on.

Please keep in your prayers the soul of Kaddy Jatou Susso, her family and her friends.

Kaddy Jatou Susso - A beautiful lady

Kaddy's baby - Assmao (picture taken 7 days ago at the naming ceremony)

Kaddy and Kaddy

Peace and quiet

2011-09-14T20:38:00.001+01:00

Living on a big family compound can be great and having lots of children around and people to talk to ensures that life is always interesting. However sometimes it's quite hard to get a bit of peace and quiet.

It's not only me that feels this way, a few times I’ve had adults and children alike seeking refuge in my house telling me to close the door and not tell people where they are just so that they can get half an hour or so of peace!

Well baby Sarjo (who is almost 4 months old now and as beautiful as ever) often finds it difficult to rest in her own house. Her 'loving' sisters just want to play with her, pick her up, carry her around and just generally keep her awake. So, whenever she gets the chance, Isatou (Sarjo's mum) will sneak Sarjo into my house and tell me to close the doors so that her baby can sleep in peace.

And sleep peacefully she does as I sit at the side of her tapping away on my computer! Peace and quiet at last - well that is until her curious sisters come banging on the door!!

Death by chocolate cake?

2011-09-14T20:10:00.001+01:00

On a recent trip to the Kombos, I decided to treat myself and splashed out on a black forest gateau from one of the western style supermarkets.

The picture on the box was enough to make your eyes water and both Lucy (friend and fellow volunteer) and I were keen to open the box and sample a piece.

Well the cake did not disappoint, it tasted wonderful - how we didn’t eat the whole thing I just don’t know - BUT.... I'm glad that we didn’t.......

About half an hour after eating the cake I started to feel a strange tingling sensation just above my upper lip. The tingling became more and more intense and I felt certain that I was going to come out with some sort of rash in the shape of a moustache above my upper lip.

At first this sensation was strange but when Lucy started to describe the same tingling sensation just above her upper lip the two of us started to panic!

After about an hour the tingling became more like a burning sensation and though it was confined to the moustache area both of us became more and more concerned that we were having an allergic reaction of some sort to the cake.

But why would we both have exactly the same allergy? And why would it affect us in the same way? There was only one conclusion to be drawn - we had been poisoned and we were both going to 'suffer' death by chocolate cake!!!

As Lucy and I contemplated our fate all I could think about were my poor parents having to tell people that they lost their daughter in Africa. "What happened to her?" people would ask. "Was she savaged by a lion? Crushed by an elephant? Fatally wounded in a tribal conflict?" "Not quite" they would have to say, "she was, well, err, she died of chocolate gateau."

Needless to say we didn't actually die and we both lived to tell the tale. By morning both Lucy and I were no longer experiencing the burning sensation though neither of us have any idea what it could have been that caused us to react that way?

Has it put us off chocolate cake? I'm afraid not however we decided it best not to finish the rest of the cake!

Anyone for a piece of cake?

Breakdown!

2011-08-15T23:04:00.001+01:00

I set off on my bike nice and early Sunday morning heading to Farafenni however about 10 minutes into my journey I started having some bike problems!

Over the last year I have become much more confident on my bike and now I really love it. I'm also getting much better at recognising when there is a problem and what it might be. And sometimes I even remember to check the petrol and oil before making long journeys!

However on Sunday morning I was at a loss as to what the problem might be! The petrol and oil were fine, I checked and cleaned the spark plug (the ignition and 'on' switch were on! - something that people always ask me when I breakdown!) But the bike sounded bad and the engine kept cutting out.

Being the skilful rider that I am, I was able to ride the bike very slowly to 'Riders' and then I sat and watched as the mechanics looked for the problem.

They basically stripped the bike (something way beyond my abilities - if I take the spark plug out I have to really concentrate on where it goes back and what was connected to it) and concluded that the last lot of petrol that I put in my tank was dirty (it was from them!) and that the sand/dirt in the tank had damaged almost everything, clogging it up and making it cut out.

So they cleaned everything up. Removed the tank and emptied the petrol (they showed me the sand and there was a lot of it!) and then poured the petrol back into the tank but filtered it through some material.

It took them almost three hours and though I watched carefully I don't think I can even remember how to take the seat off let alone anything else!

Once again I had a camera to hand and took some pictures!!

It would be painful if I tried to ride it like that!

I wanted to help but I was too busy taking pictures!

This is the bottom of the bucket that they emptied the fuel tank into - just look at that sand!

A year in The Gambia!

2011-08-12T19:51:00.000+01:00

Today is my one year anniversary in The Gambia. It has been such a wonderful life-changing experience. The year has had its ups and downs but I thank the Lord for the opportunity to be here and the many blessings that have been put before me.

Thanks to all my friends and family who have been sending me packages, cards, gifts and also those following the blog and sharing their interest in my 'adventure'.

Thank you EVERYBODY and thank you Gambia!!!

Big beetles!

2011-07-29T15:35:00.000+01:00

I mentioned in another post about some of the interesting insects that appear during rainy season so when I saw one of the big beetles (albeit dead) I was anxious to take a picture so people could see just how big they are!

Sometimes these things literally fall out of the sky and land on you and believe me - it'll make you jump!!

I used my mobile to give an idea of size!

Toilet Trained

2011-07-29T15:25:00.000+01:00

The other day I went out to my latrine in the morning to find a pile of poo in the corner. Yes - a pile of poo! It was animal droppings of some sort but a whole pile of them altogether, very strange indeed.

I'm no expert in animal droppings but after close examination (not too close) and a discussion with my neighbour, I think the poo belongs to a lizard. However neither of us have any ideas why there would be so much of it and why it would all be concentrated in one place.

So the poo was in the corner of the latrine and as my back yard area is more like a nature reserve with every species of rodent, lizard and insects attempting to set up home there, I have come up with a theory about the pile of poo - I think that a lizard was backed into the corner by another animal (maybe a bigger lizard, rat or even cat - yes I’ve had cats in my back yard area) and then literally shit himself with fear! Hence the pile of poo!

Obviously this is only a theory and unless I catch the perpetrator in the act I will never actually know however I was impressed that the animal that left the droppings had the decency to do them in the latrine area!

And a story like this would only be half a story without pictures...

The pile of poo (droppings)

The poo in the corner of the latrine area (just to give you a bit of size perspective)!

Beauty Pageant

2011-07-29T15:06:00.001+01:00

Though my official role here in The Gambia is that of 'Primary Cluster Teacher Trainer', I often find that some of the work that I am asked to do falls very loosely (if at all) under that title.

Recently I was asked to organise a 'Miss 22nd July Scholarship and Beauty Pageant' at the regional office where I am based. Apparently this is an annual event and each region (of which there are 6) do 'heats' and then send the contestants that came first and second place to the final competition in Banjul. The event is sponsored by the President and the winning girl is awarded a scholarship. The competition is a way of promoting girls education.

There has been much discussion among people here about the merits of such a pageant however I do not wish to comment on that. I was merely carrying out what appears to be a 'VSO responsibility' in The Gambia, and was able to organise a successful event in a very short space of time.

As a one of the judges I was unable to compete which is a real pity because I even wore African dress for the occasion!!

Me all dressed up and ready to take my place at the judges' table

It's a very serious business this beauty pageant thing!

Obviously when Nathan heard that there would be lots of beautiful young women gathered in one place he decided to come over and see what was going on!

A few pictures

2011-07-10T17:10:00.003+01:00

This is Surdas (pronounced Sue-daze). One of Nfamara's nephews. I just think that he is SO cute that's why I have put the picture on my blog!! He's about 2 years old and a little tinker!!

I saw this little 'notice' in a Head Teacher's office at one of the schools I was visiting. It obviously hasn't been spotted by anyone more senior yet otherwise it would have been removed but I think it's hilarious and dare I say - close to the truth?!!

These children are also relatives of Nfamara (nephews). Here they are playing on my bike just outside Nfamara's compound (Sonko Kunda)

Try to wear covered shoes at night

2011-07-10T16:34:00.000+01:00

So rainy season has sort of started! It's rained about three times now (since the 15th) but mainly in the evening/night and it hasn't been particularly heavy.

After the first substantial night time rain, the following morning the fields were full of men and boys planting the groundnuts (peanuts – the big cash crop here). From now until the end of rainy season the men (and boys) will be out at the farms and in the fields looking after the groundnuts and the women (and girls) will be attending to the rice crop (as well as cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing, maintaining the gardens, looking after the children etc).

Though the rains can make life here more difficult in that everything gets really dirty and rubbish dumps overflow and sand tracks/roads become rivers etc, the rains also bring a relief from the heat. Just before it rains the heat verges on unbearable then there will be a breeze followed by a wind and then rain.
With the rains also come a whole range of interesting and exotic looking insects. You have hundreds of different types of flying insects (all swarming for the light), also bright red spiders, yellow and green ants, transparent beetles and also huge beetles the size of tennis balls!

However this year I have discovered something new, apparently the beginning of rainy season always brings out the black scorpions! There are brown/yellow coloured scorpions which are here all year round and though I’m told their sting is painful it’s not fatal – the black scorpion however is a different story!
If you are bitten by a black scorpion you have to go to the Health Centre immediately and receive a series of injections to counteract its sting. Failure to do so could be fatal!!

So I asked some locals what would be the best way to prevent contact with the black scorpions but I was told that they are everywhere at this time of year. They hide in dark places such as in your shoes, under your bed etc. The advice I was given was use a torchlight when you are doing anything in the dark and try to wear covered shoes at night!

As these creatures hide in dark places I was anxious that I might be stung by one without necessarily realising it so when I asked, ‘will know if I’ve been stung?’ the answer was a definite YES!!!

A (dead) black scorpion at 'Riders' compound. Apparently you kill them by beating them with a stick?

15th June

2011-06-25T22:06:00.002+01:00

The 15th June came and went and there was no rain!

Today (on the 25th June) it rained heavily during the day - I think that this is the start of the rainy season!

Baby Sarjo

2011-06-14T14:46:00.000+01:00

Baby Sarjo is doing just fine. She is so small and cute! Sometimes Isatou (her mother) will feed her and then leave her at my house for a couple of hours to sleep. I have a mosquito net permanently fixed in my bedroom so I place little Sarjo underneath it (mosquito nets are readily available here and most people have them but just don’t use them. It's quite frustrating as malaria is a big killer especially amongst children! Somebody here once told me that he thinks people don’t utilise the nets because they are given them for free and therefore never really appreciate their value, he believes that if people were sold them for a small price or were told to go and collect them, rather than just distributing them, then people would be more inclined to use them as they have put an effort into their acquisition. I don't know if that is true or not but I have seen mosquito nets in many Gambian houses and yet most of the people who have them admit to not sleeping underneath them).

Anyway little Sarjo often spends a few hours a day in my house lying on my bed under the security of my mosquito net. It's also an opportunity for Sarjo to get some undisturbed sleep as one of her big sisters (Bakaddy who is about 3) keeps prodding her and squeezing her face and fingers. It often begins under the guise of affection but if you watch Bakaddy carefully you can see that the 'gentle' stroke quickly turns into a jealous pinch!!

So I’ve decided to post a few more pictures of beautiful (bald) Sarjo!

Bless her!

Sarjo on my bed

What a cutie!!

Safe on the bed but not asleep!! Sarjo prefers to be held!

Mangoes and Rain

2011-06-14T14:23:00.001+01:00

Mango season is coming to an end. There are lots of mango trees in The Gambia and people here like the trees as they provide excellent shade. Many hours are spent talking, chatting, chilling and drinking green tea under a mango tree.

During mango season (which seems to have been the last three months or so) you often hear the thud of mangoes falling to the floor (you have to take care to dodge them if you were relaxing under the mango tree) and you will see lots of children and adults throwing stones into the trees in an attempt to knock the mangoes to the floor or prodding the trees with exceptionally long sticks (sold specifically for this purpose!)

I have eaten a lot of mangoes during the last couple of months and I think that now I have eaten so many that I am going 'off' them! When I hear the 'thud' of a mango falling to the ground I no longer run to locate the fruit! The novelty has worn off. However all is not lost as I am told that there are different varieties of mangoes and there is one particular type that I still really like and enjoy eating (I also want to note as a side that the way people eat mangos here is very interesting to observe)!

Very soon mango season will be over and perhaps if there are no mangoes for 8 months or so when they return I might be keen to eat them again? We will have to see.

Now rainy season is fast approaching. It rained in the evening in the 1st June and again in the evening the following day. Since then it rained once during the morning. When rainy season starts properly then it will rain heavily (on and off) for about 3 and half months. Everything here goes green, rivers fill up again and the sand 'roads' become streams! There are things about rainy season that I love and things about it that I hate! What I can tell you though, is that it gets HOT, really hot and humid and when it actually rains it's not like a shower, it's like somebody is pouring a swimming pool of water over your head!!

People here tell me that the rainy season starts on the 15th June. I have no idea why this date has been selected (the say the same day every year - 15th June). Originally when I heard this date it made me smile as I was sure that there could not possibly be an exact date when the rains start properly every year? HOWEVER as this date approaches I'm becoming more and more intrigued.

Today is the 14th and the sky has changed colour. It is still exceptionally hot but the sky is grey. My neighbour Isatou told me, 'Kaddy, the rain is coming'. There is definitely a difference in the atmosphere. So who knows? Maybe tomorrow it will rain and then the rain will continue for three months. Maybe the rains do start on the 15th June every year? How exciting! Watch this space!

A night at the pier

2011-06-07T12:36:00.000+01:00

A couple of nights ago Nathan, Nfamara (my friend) and I decided to go down to the pier in the evening and hang out together. When we were down at the pier we met some sailors who transport the ground-nuts (peanuts) from Kerewan to Banjul via the river. We all chatted and had a good evening.

However though it was quite cool in the evening by the river, one of our group wasn't feeling the cold - a bout of Dutch courage I suspect!

Now I don't want to get anyone into trouble by naming names (especially as his lovely mother sometimes reads this blog) but if you have a look at the pictures from that night you might be able to guess WHO had one too many!

Lopiz (one of the sailors)

Me and Nfamara (note the jumpers, jackets and long sleeve tops because it's cold!)

Nathan (Hmmmmmmm)

Baby is named

2011-06-07T11:59:00.000+01:00

7 days after my neighbour Isatou gave birth, the family held a naming ceremony on the compound. Here in The Gambia, at the ‘Naming Ceremony’ the baby’s name is announced (which is selected by the father, sometimes the wife won’t even know the name selected by the father until it is announced at the naming ceremony) and the baby’s head is shaved.

So baby now has a name and she is called Sarjo. She is still as beautiful as ever and was exceptionally well behaved when her hair was being cut off!!

Here are a selection of some of the pictures that I took on the day.

Isatou (before her 'make-over')

Isatou (after her 'make-over'. Isatou changed outfits at least 4 times during the day of the naming ceremony!)

Danfar (the proud father)

Ebrima (Isatou's first child)

Basi (Isatou's second child)

Bakaddy (Isatou's 3rd child and my 'toe-mar' meaning we share the same name, not sure about the spelling though!)

The head shaving begins

Close shave!!

Sarjo is starting to get mad now!!

Wow, almost there!

Good girl! Nearly finished.

Bald baby!

Me and Isatou (not sure why I look so manic?)

Isatou, little Kaddy and Nathan (Nathan is not a giant, Isatou is just very short!)

Basi (big sister) holding baby Sarjo (support that baby's head!!!)

Naba (lives with Isatou and her children) holding baby Sarjo

A bit about the place and people

2011-05-23T15:57:00.000+01:00

For those that might be interested I thought I would write a little to give you more of an idea what life and people are like here in The Gambia. I don’t want generalise and so I want to begin by clarifying that what I say is based on my experiences so far, the things that I have seen and some of the people that I have met.

Gambia is divided into divisions and the division that homes Banjul, the capital city, is by far the most ‘western’ of them all. This area is also known as the Kombos and is where most of the tourists will stay during their time in the Gambia. Though Banjul itself is relatively ‘shanty’ by western city standards, unlike many other areas in the Gambia it has tarmac roads throughout and a regular flow of traffic. There are quite a few important Government buildings in Banjul including The State House (The President’s home) and many departments of the Ministry are based there. Banjul also has a ferry port which links it to Barra in the North Bank Region (North Bank Region being where I live).

As far as I am aware not many tourists actually stay in the capital though as there are few accessible beaches and little amenities there – it’s like a ‘working’ city, therefore most of the tourists will stay along the north and west cost of the Kombos area outside of Banjul. In these areas they have supermarkets, banks, nightclubs, restaurants, cafes, gymnasiums, hotels etc and for many tourists and wealthy Gambians the life they could live here would be very similar to back in the UK (only much hotter and not as good roads).

People in the Kombos area dress differently to those in other parts of the Gambia and though you will always see traditional outfits they will often have an extra flare or be made from much more interesting and expensive material. Also many Gambians in the Kombos will wear western style clothes varying from jeans to suits. It’s a much more ‘fashionable’ place and women wear clothes that in other parts of the Gambia would be really frowned upon.

The culture of the Kombos is different too. Many young people go out to nightclubs and boys and girls mix more. Also people socialise at cafes and restaurants. Some Gambians drink alcohol (unlike anywhere else in The Gambia) and there seems to be a work ethos in the Kombo area, shops opening on time, businesses running effectively, there is competition for jobs therefore people applying themselves at work (all things which I have found less evident in the rest of The Gambia).

Though Gambia is called the ‘smiling coast’, in the Kombos areas I have found that the only people who have the time or inclination to smile at you are hotel staff, shop/market vendors, beggars and ‘bumsters’. (The latter is the name given to local Gambians who try to earn a living from obtaining money, meals, clothes, contacts and sometimes sex from tourists).

In terms of housing most Gambians will live in ‘compounds’ (a walled area with a series of houses inside). Compounds vary in size and quality of housing but they usually home members of the same extended family. In the Kombos area there are many individual homes (which are not typical anywhere else in the Gambia) and compounds in which all the houses are for renters.

The quality of housing in the Kombos area is relatively good with some wealthy Gambians living in deluxe mansions. There are poorer areas of the Kombos though and the housing in these areas is more typical of what you might find elsewhere in The Gambia – that is a two room structure with an outdoor kitchen and toilet/latrine area. Electricity and water is supplied to the Kombos 24 hours a day however there are frequent power cuts and occasional interruptions to the water supply.

In terms of diet and health many people from the Kombos eat a variety of food from local dishes to more western cuisines. More affluent Gambians enjoy a greater range of food whereas the diet of those less fortunate will rely almost entirely on Gambian dishes (they are rice-based dishes) as these are cheaper to buy the ingredients for and to make. I am told that Gambian food is very high in fat (oil is used excessively) and many people here suffer from high cholesterol.

So now to the rest of The Gambia! From what I can gather pretty much everywhere outside the Kombos (and more so of the divisions to the east of Banjul) is referred to as ‘up-country’. Up-country life is very different to that in the Kombos and religion plays a big part in day to day life. The Gambia is a Muslim country (something like 95% of the population are Muslim). Consequently the views, behaviour and expectations of people up-country are more closely linked to the religious interpretations concerning attitudes towards women and the ‘roles’ and responsibilities which individuals have in the family.

Based on life in Kerewan (where I live) I think that it is fair to say that most married man will have at least one wife (up to four) and each wife will have an average of 5-9 children. Compounds here usually comprise of a ‘senior’ (used in authoritative terms rather than reflecting age) man (sometimes a few senior men in the case of brothers), their own mother and unmarried sisters and then each of the men’s wives and children. Then as and when the senior men’s sons gets married he will bring his wife/wives to the compound and any subsequent children will also live there (when women marry they leave the family compound and move to their husbands). Therefore compounds up-country can be very crowded with sometimes as many as four people or more sharing a single room.

I have noticed that many poorer Gambians don’t live in their houses in the same way that we do in the UK. They merely use their houses to sleep in as all other activities take place outside the house. Even watching the television often takes place outside the house with a television being set up somewhere on the compound and everybody gathered round to watch. Therefore as many of the Gambians I have met here don’t really have their own ‘private space’ they consequently have little possessions (as there is nowhere to put them). This is particularly true for the children and any possessions that they do have, maybe a mobile phone, a photograph or a toy of some sort, they have to keep with them at all times otherwise it will simply be picked up by another child.

One of the consequences of this is that children especially, are often unable to look after things properly. If they have school books they often get damaged or lost and if they have been given an item (for example a toy) it is only a matter of time before it is broken or discarded. This can be a little disheartening for westerners to see, when their well meaning gifts end up in the hands of those they were not intended for, broken within minutes or used in a way that defeats the purpose of its invention (such as a filing cabinet being tipped on its side and used as a bench).

Women are responsible for the day to day running of the compounds up-country. They prepare and cook all the food for the men and children, they wash and iron the clothes, clean the houses, look after the infants, collect the water and work in the local gardens (there are many women’s gardens in The Gambia where women will grow vegetables often to supplement their own meals and sometimes to sell at the market).

Many people up-country believe that a women’s role is in her home and therefore most women in these areas seldom leave their compounds (other than to the places that their daily chores take them to). Girls over the age of about ten will often help their mothers with work on the compound and occasionally some of the boys might help out too. I have been told that if a man has to do very little in terms of household tasks and being responsible for the children then it is a sign that he has a good wife. There are many excellent wives in Kerewan.

When it comes to meal times here Gambians eat from what is called a ‘food bowl’. That is the food is prepared in one large bowl and put on the floor then people all gather round, usually crouching on the floor and eat from the bowl. There is an etiquette involved with food bowl eating; you must always wash your hand before you begin (most people here eat with their right hand) and you must only eat food from the section of the food bowl which you are crouched next to. If some of the meat, vegetable or other ‘shared’ item is in the section in front of you then it is your responsibility to tear it apart with your hand and then throw it (as equally as possible) to other sections of the food bowl. Any part of the food which is non-digestible such as bone or gristle is spat onto the floor.

Up-country eating from the food bowl seems to be a social activity and people are always keen for others to join them when they are eating. Wherever you are, around meal times people (even strangers) will call you over and ask you to eat with them. Though men always invite me to eat with them I have noticed though that Gambian men and women seldom eat from the same food bowl at the same time. Usually if there are not separate bowls for women and men the food bowl will be given to the men (and boys) first and then the women will eat afterwards and then the children (girls and very young boys) after the women.

People up-country (well in Kerewan at least) eat rice everyday for every meal. For breakfast they will usually have a rice-porridge, and then for lunch and dinner another rice-based meal (perhaps with a different ‘sauce’ for variety) and then late in the evening they might eat rice porridge again. On the whole people don’t seem to find this excessive consumption of rice to be a problem and many of the less travelled people of Kerewan (which is probably most of them) are not actually aware of any alternatives to rice. Occasionally people will eat cous and sometimes bread but the bread will often accompany the rice.

Generally peoples’ diets here are not very good and few vegetables are consumed even though they are grown locally. I was once told that vegetables are ‘for poor people’ so I think there might be a stigma attached to eating too many. The local ‘bittikos’ (small stores usually at the front of some body’s house) sell a whole range of biscuits and sweets all in bright colourful packaging with Arabic writing on them. Most Gambians have a sweet tooth and adults and children alike often consume a lot of these sweets and biscuits. People don’t seem to understand the importance of a balanced diet for nutritional purposes and though most people are able to get the quantity of food needed for growth they seldom get the variety of vitamins and minerals required for healthy developmental growth.

This doesn’t seem to affect their daily lives though and despite not having a healthy diet Gambians continue to do many hard laborious jobs (often in the heat). Some men go out to collect fire wood in the ‘bush’ all day, others dig sand for construction whilst some build and the women are constantly fetching and carrying water, working in the gardens and rice fields and carrying their young around on their back everywhere they go.

As far as pass times go the main one here (for men) is drinking a green tea which is known locally as ‘attayah’. The brewing of the tea follows a special procedure involving one very small tea pot, a charcoal burner, two small glass cups and a lot of sugar. The tea is poured from glass to glass several times before being served. It is then poured in small quantities in each of the glasses and passed around the group. Once you have finished your drinking you return the glass to the brewer who then re-fills it and passes it to another person in the group. The whole attayah making process takes about three hours and usually takes place in the shade under a mango tree. Though women drink attayah (myself included) I am yet to see a group of women gathered under a tree drinking green tea. I think this is often because they have very little spare time for this type of socialising.

Up-country people tend to be very friendly and here you can see why the country is called the ‘smiling coast’. The intentions of friendliness vary considerably from a general pleasantness and desire to greet people to a more motivated agenda of wanting to get something from you. As a westerner you are perceived as wealthy and an opportunity for a better life so many people will be friendly towards you and engineer friendships with the intention of getting money, sponsorship or belongings from you. Many Gambians have told me that good fortune and wealth is a gift from Allah rather than it being attributed to hard work and endeavour (or a mixture of the two) so therefore if a Gambian is fortunate enough to get employment and applies himself and works hard he is then expected to give financial handouts to the members of his family. In theory this is a lovely concept however I have met many Gambians who have found the expectations of handouts to family and friends financially crippling and say it often de-motivates people when it comes to applying themselves and bettering their personal situation.

Well I hope that this has given you more of a picture of The Gambia and the people. I hope that I haven’t made too many generalisations and as I have stated before all of this is based on my limited experience here. Everywhere in the world there are good and bad people, friendly and unfriendly, rich and poor and The Gambia is no exception.

New Baby!!!!

2011-05-19T16:36:00.001+01:00

Within a few months of arriving in The Gambia it became apparent that my lovely neighbour and friend Isatou was pregnant. Women in the Gambia don't talk about pregnancy, I am told that discussing it is a bit of a taboo (this was unfortunately something that I neglected to mention to my dad when he came out here to visit me and I remember cringing with anxiety as my father innocently asked a nervous and reluctant Isatou questions about her pregnancy in what to her must have felt like an inappropriate interrogation!! Bless them both!)

Anyway Isatou has looked like she has been 'ready' to give birth for about three months now, she was huge (and she has such a little frame). These last few months she's been really tired, hot and bothered and unfortunately despite her 'condition' there is little to no reprieve for women here, she was still getting on with her daily chores of collecting water, sweeping, cooking, cleaning, washing, ironing and looking after her other children, albeit at a much slower pace.

Well in the early hours of Wednesday morning, 3:26am to be precise (18th May 2011), Isatou gave birth to a beautiful little girl at Kerewan Health Centre. (Isatou is 27, this is her fourth child; she has a boy called Ebrima (9) who stays with relatives in Bakau (Kombo) and then two girls Basi (7) and Kaddy (3) who live with Isatou at Ceesay Kunda).

The adorable little baby (which I keep calling 'my baby' to everybody's amusement) has no name yet however the Muslim religion here dictates that 7 days after birth there will be a 'naming ceremony' during which the baby is given a name. (Isatou tells me that the father chooses the name of the children).

Baby is gorgeous and as far as I’m aware mother and baby are fine (from what I can see antenatal and postnatal care here in the Gambia is quite different to that in the UK).

So I’ve put some pictures of my lovely baby below! Next Wednesday is the 'naming ceremony' In shalla (that's Arabic for 'If God wills it') during which I will take more photographs and then put them on my blog!

Senegal and Catherine!

2011-05-19T15:38:00.003+01:00

On Monday morning I set out to visit one of the schools that I plan to work with over the next few weeks. The school is in a rural community in the north of the region close to the Senegalese boarder. I have visited the school before with the 'Cluster Monitor' but I followed him there on my bike and paid little attention to the route that we took. If I am being really honest I find that once you get off the road and out into the 'bush' (sort of like 'outback', uninhabited areas where people might grow crops, graze cattle or just never visit - also home to hyena, bush rat, snakes, scorpions etc etc) everywhere looks the same. However on this fine Monday morning, I set off on my own with a full tank of petrol, a freshly cleaned spark plug, a bottle of water, a map and a head full of 'directional advice' - ready to 'find' the school.

Now at this point I have to comment that many of the Gambians that I have met have been notably poor at giving 'directional advice' and unfortunately the advice I was given regarding reaching this particular village was no exception. (Many Gambians have given me directions with no 'left' or 'right' just actions, no landmarks/features to indicate position and the directions are often relayed to me in a different language). In this particular instance I was told that all I had to do was 'turn there (I deduced that he meant 'off the road') go that way (he motioned left) and take the road (other than the one main 'North Bank road' there are no other 'roads' up-country so I concluded that he meant 'track' rather than 'road')'.

I followed the main road until the point at which I believed that I should turn off and then carried on following the 'road' (which like I said is really a 'dirt/sand track' etched out by years of donkey carts travelling between villages). I continued on the track going through villages, woodland and bush trying to stop my bike from tipping in the sand whilst also dodging chickens, goats, sheep and children (who always chase my bike waving and shouting 'toubabo' at me). At various points the track forked with both routes looking equally as established however I just thought to myself 'if you keep to the left and go straight then you won’t get lost and stranded in the bush!' Oh happy I was on my little adventure.

After a while though the villages became sparse and I had spent a considerable amount of time just following the now even less established track north bound. I was aware that I was literally in the middle of the bush. The 'happiness' was wearing off but luckily the impending panic turned to relief as a spotted another village in the distance.

As I rode into the village I could see the surprise (boarding on astonishment) of the locals. I stopped by a well, got off my bike and greeted the small crowd that had gathered using the universal Muslim greeting of peace. I then used my best Mandinka (one of the Gambia languages) to explain that I was lost and to ask for 'directions' to my intended destination.

Within a few seconds it became apparent that nobody in the village spoke Mandinka (or English) and that communication was going to be difficult. As this realisation was taking place some of the bolder members of the community began to 'touch' me, they stroked my hair, touched me, my clothes, my bike and seemed to marvel in the unfamiliarity of it all. A little disturbed by the fact that I was clearly the only 'toubab' (foreigner/white person) who had stopped off at this village for a LONG time (maybe even EVER) I decided to thank the villages, quickly get on my bike and ride off (I must confess that I've seen too many films in my lifetime and as wrong as it is I couldn't help but think that it was only a matter of time before they either made me a member of the village, the alkalo's (chief) fourth wife or killed me believing me to be a white devil or infidel - either way I would never escape)!

I sped off (not too quick and with extra caution as I was concerned that if I fell off my bike here I really would be at the mercy of the villagers) and returned back down the track from which I came. Fortunately after a short while I came across a cattle herder who was able to point me in the direction of the village I was trying to get to. His 'direction' took me off the track and caused me to drive straight through the bush in the hope that we really had understood each other during our brief communication. Amazingly after some time I saw another village in the distance and headed there in anticipation.

This time I had the right place!!! The Head Teacher was pleased to see me and said that he was concerned when he saw that I was late to arrive as he was worried that I might not have been able to find the school! I told him about my exciting journey, told him the route I had taken and pointed out the direction from which I came from. The Head Teacher was really amused. He said that I had crossed the Senegalese border and the villages that I visited were in fact Senegal not Gambia. He explained that there is no boarder control in various up-country rural areas and that these are usually the chosen routes for people wishing to take the 'back way' between the Gambia and Senegal. If I had been 'caught' by Senegalese immigration I would have been in really big trouble!!

So technically I can now say that I have also been to Senegal. It wasn’t an intentional trip and I don’t have the stamp in my passport to prove it however I'm sure that in some of the Senegalese villages just over the Gambian boarder they will be talking about the 'toubab woman on a motorbike' for months, maybe even years to come!!

Just to complete this story (and explain how 'Catherine' got in the title) when I was at the school observing and working with teachers the Head Teacher asked me to come and greet a lady who was eager to see me? Apparently a few years ago a white woman visited this community, an American Peace Corp by the name of Catherine. At the time the lady (who was eager to see me) was expecting a child. Once the child was born her husband named her 'Catherine' after the white woman. Well the child was born and she is now about 3 or 4 years old and when she saw me arrive at the school she thought I was Catherine (who she was named after but never met) and in excitement she left the school and ran into the village to find her mother to tell her that Catherine (her name-sake) was here at the school to see her!!

I really wanted to pretend to be Catherine! The little girl was so cute and so excited about seeing the lady she was named after!! However the Head Teacher seemed a little shocked by my desire to impersonate somebody else and said that he had explained to the mother of the child who I was and though she was disappointed that I wasn’t in fact Catherine she still wanted to greet me! I took a photograph of little Catherine and told the Head Teacher to tell her and her mother that she had a special name and that I was so happy to see them both because she shared a wonderful name with MY little sister!

Catherine (stood in the Head Teacher's office. Also that's an interesting picture in the background?)

Kaddy come quick, your house smells of gas!

2011-04-01T14:22:00.000+01:00

Today I was sat in the office working on a report when I received a telephone call from somebody from the compound (Ceesay Kunda) asking me where I was and telling me that my house smelt of gas. Concerned about the potential gas disaster I told the caller that I would return home immediately and I quickly set off on my motorbike. As I left the office the Regional Director asked me where I was going and I briefly explained the nature of the call I had received and he too urged me to head home with haste.

As I arrived at the compound I was surprised to see the two men from the compound (Dad and Step-dad) calmly sat outside, especially considering the potential danger, however I dismissed it as 'cultural differences' and quickly rode through the gate.

As I pulled up to my house there was a whole crowd of compound people gathered round laughing, clapping and shouting something. It took a few seconds to work out what they were saying but then it became apparent that they were saying, 'April fools, April fools'.

My first thought that went through my head was, 'are these people for real?!!!' They called me from work telling me about a gas leakage all as part of an April fool’s joke? I'm at WORK for goodness sake!' However within a few minutes I burst out laughing - half of me was relieved that my house wasn’t going to blow up and the other half of me was amused by the compound people's lack of awareness of the inappropriateness of their April fools 'joke'.

Bless em!!!

Run for Cover!

2011-03-09T12:20:00.003Z

When I first arrived in Kerewan, VSO supplied me with a large gas canister which I attached to my gas stove. Though I'm a little ashamed to admit that I don't actually know how much gas the canister holds I can tell you that the canister itself is about a metre high, exceptionally heavy and that it lasted a whole 6 months (being used daily) before it finally ran out. But run out it did so I had to look into getting it refilled.

Despite the fact that refilling the canister sounds like a relatively simple task, it really isn’t! The empty canister has to be taken to the nearest big city to fill it (Farafenni) and it is far too large and impractical to transport around. So after much negotiation I managed to get somebody to agree to do the transportation and I handed over the rather large sum of money which was required to fill the canister.

When I finally got the canister back in my house I reconnected it to the gas cooker only to find that the tap at the top of the canister (which turns the flow of gas on and off) would not turn. I tried several times but was unable to turn the gas on. So I gave Nathan a call and asked him if he would come over and give me a hand.

Despite his best efforts Nathan too was unable to turn the gas tap on therefore I decided to ask a couple of the men on my compound, perhaps there was a knack to it which Nathan and I just didn’t know about?

Well the compound men came in to help and there didn’t seem to be any special technique to it at all, they just went for the sheer force approach. Within minutes of being in the house one of the men did something to the gas tank which suddenly caused the tap to blow off altogether and the gas to come bellowing out of it.

Everyone’s instincts are different and as soon as I heard the bang of the gas tap hitting the ceiling I ran to the nearest exit (which for me was at the rear of the house). The two men from the compound who had come to ‘help’ also ran for cover (out the front of the house), one of them pulling the door closed on the way out leaving poor bewildered Nathan stood in the middle of a gas-filled room! I don’t want to spoil the end of the story but for the sake of all those who worry about my well-being - both Nathan and I survived this ordeal!

Within seconds the whole house was full of gas as the entire canister just emptied there and then in the middle of the living room. (That’s 6 months worth of gas!!) Intrigued by the noise and commotion a whole crowd of people quickly gathered round the front of the house and once they had seen and smelt what had happened they all started shouting at me (who was stranded at the rear of the building) not to enter the house again.

Well I stood out the back for a few minutes but then the gas was all around me so I had no choice but to run back through the gas-filled house to the front of the building. For the remainder of the evening I sat outside the house with all the doors and windows open however the gas just wouldn’t disperse. Needless to say I couldn’t sleep in the house that night. I did have to go in to get some overnight essentials and the whol ordeal left me a little delirious and light-headed.

So how do I feel about wasting so much money, time and effort and having a house full of gas? Well to tell you the truth I feel bloody lucky because if the gas leakage had happened only half an hour or so later than when it actually did then it would have coincided with the electricity coming on and that initial surge of power could have been disaster for all of us in the house. On reflection we were all very lucky indeed!!

Pigtails?

2011-03-04T14:07:00.000Z

For some time now a few of the girls on my compound have been putting pressure on me saying that I should braid (plait) my hair. The girls (and women) frequently plait their hair and every few weeks they will have new and wonderful styles.

Usually friends/sisters/mothers will braid each other’s hair but occasionally if there is an event coming up, a special occasion or you just feel like something different, then there are people in the town who you can go to who are known for being able to do good plaiting.

So recently I caved in to the pressure and went to see Julde (a really nice girl who stays in the compound opposite me and who is known for her plaiting ability!) to see if she would be able to braid my hair. Apparently a few years ago Julde braided a 'toubabos' (white person) hair (a previous VSO) and was up for the challenge!

I sat on the floor in Julde's compound whilst she set to work. Four hours later Julde announced that she had finished and all those around (a small crowd had gathered to see the toubab hair show!) were suitably impressed. Though I hadn't actually seen my hair, about half way through I realised that Julde was creating 'pigtails' (something Westerners like myself usually associate with children!) so I was happy to see that Gambian's clearly didn’t have the same perception of pigtails as we do in the west!!

After the initial shock of looking in the mirror and realising that I was now a 31yr old woman with pigtails, the hairstyle really grew on me (excuse the pun)!!

I've had my braids in for almost a week now and I’m actually starting to really like them. I love the fact that I don’t have to wash my hair (or even think about it)! Admittedly putting my motorbike helmet on was a little tricky but I seem to have mastered that now!! I'm even starting to think about what style of braids I will have next!!

The Family Visit!!!

2011-02-23T14:20:00.003Z

I've been in The Gambia for just over 6 months now and I'm still having a wonderful time. I'm learning new things every day, meeting new and interesting people and I feel like I’m really getting to know the place.

A couple of weeks ago my Dad and sister (Cathy) came out to visit. It was really great to see them and we had a super time. They had an action-packed week and even managed to do an overnight stay in Kerewan!

During their stay here we went to church in Bakau and then to Bakau fish market and watched the fishermen bring in the evening catch. We went on a long (but lovely) boat trip to Juffureh, an old trading post and slave factory (made famous by Alex Haley's book 'Roots' and believed to be the home of the legendary Kunta Kinteh) and learnt more about the slave trade and the historical role that Gambia had during those days. We took a smaller boat over to James Island (recently renamed Kunta Kinteh Island). We also went to another fishing village called Tanji and also strolled on one of the beaches in the Senegambia area.

Like I mentioned earlier we went to Kerewan so dad and Cath got to experience the ferry crossing (Banjul/Barra) as well as getting to see where I live and meeting some of my friends and compound people. We also got to eat two home-made Gambia dishes, chicken yassa and benachin (courtesy of Aja Ceesay). We wet for strolls, evening drinks, saw crocodiles, visited craft markets and local gardens and fended off numerous bumsters!

We had a great time and I really enjoyed their visit (and that's not just because I got to stay with them in the luxury hotel with running hot water and an unlimited power supply)!!! Both Dad and Cath are talking about coming out again and I really hope they do!

I want to thank everyone who sent things out with Dad and Cath, the bats, balls etc were really popular and the children love them. Thank you as well for the luxury items that were sent out for me, they are fantastic and you've been so generous. Luckily Nathan doesn't eat that much chocolate and the taste is far too rich for the locals so more for me!!

Me and Dad at Calypso (one of our favourite hangouts)

Dad with his feet in the Atlantic Ocean

Bakau fish market

The fishermen bringing in their catch (Bakau)

The hussle of the fishmarket (Bakau)

Juffureh/Albreda

Statue at the slave museum at Juffureh

Juffureh (at the museum)

Cath and I meeting the Alkali of Juffureh (this is the village leader and this lady if one of the two female Alkali's in The Gambia)

Dad and the Alkali

James Island (now Kunta Kinteh Island)

Bakemo (Ceesay), Dad, Buba (Ceesay) and Cath at Tanji fishing village

Tanji fishing village

Some of my Kerewan friends (from left to right, Lamin, Famara, Sainey and Famara)

The fish at Tanji (they smoke them like this until they are brown and almost burnt looking and then they last a long time)

The fish being smoked (Tanji)

Me and Cath at the hotel (Ocean Bay, Cape Point)

Dad and Dad (Dad with Dembo Fula Ceesay, the big dad on my compound)

Me with two of my Kerewan friends, Sainey and Famara

Nathan helping to start the fire so we can brew green tea

The ferry (loading ready for the crossing from Bajul to Barra)

The ferry loading (from Barra to Banjul)

Buba, Me and Bakemo outside my house in Kerewan (Buba currently lives on Ceesay Kunda and Bakemo grew up here but now lives in America)

Up-country housing (near Tambana)

Dad outside my house fanning the attayah burner

One of the crocodiles in the water next to Calypso bar

Hyena and attayah!

2011-01-21T12:19:00.002Z

I want to begin by thanking people for their Christmas cards and the Christmas gifts that I have started receiving. I know that Christmas has finished but it's really cool getting post and when I do I put the cards up in my house. I know I haven’t got them all yet but thanks again for sending them - it's greatly appreciated!

Well the new year has been a great one and already I am embracing the new experiences of 2011!!

A couple of days ago I was out visiting schools and once again I encountered motorbike problems! The rear tyre got a puncture. I was quite impressed with the fact that I realised there was a problem so soon! The bike started swaying from left to right as though there was a huge wind pushing me from one side of the road to another! It was scary!!

I pulled over and called riders for help! It was whilst waiting for the tyre to be fixed that I got talking to some local people and they told me about a man in a nearby village who went into the 'bush' and killed a hyena! I was keen to see this hyena so I left my bike by the roadside and went to investigate.

It wasn’t long before I saw a crowd of people all gathered round the gate of a compound just off the road. I walked into the compound, greeted everyone and then made my way over to the group of men kneeling over something on the floor. When I saw the hyena I couldn’t believe my eyes - it was huge!

Even though the hyena was dead (and in the middle of being skinned) it still looked terrifying! I was both excited by what I was seeing but also petrified to think that these things live in the bush and so close to me!!!

The guy who had killed it (he shot it) was a hunter (a hardcore little man who roams the bush at night). As I got talking to people about hyenas it became apparent how difficult they are to kill. Apparently they move around in groups and they are really intelligent? Also they are supposed to have very strong jaws and once they bite they don’t let go!

There is quite a degree of superstition and myths surrounding hyenas here in The Gambia and people's beliefs vary dramatically considering where they live (my Gambian friends in Kombo for example think that eating hyena is bad luck whereas here in Kerewan the prospect of eating this unusual meat seems to excite people)!

I really wanted to take a photo but I didn't know how appropriate that would be so I politely asked the crowd if I could take a picture. The gathering were also excited by the kill (it's not a common thing to kill a hyena) and they were keen to let me take a photo. A little later the mechanic (who had arrived to fix my puncture) showed up and he purchased some of the meat.

Later that evening one of the guys from Riders cooked hyena and Nathan and I joined him for dinner!! Paul didn't seem keen on trying the meat so he stayed at home.

It tasted good! Quite salty and a bit gristly (but that's just because they don’t prepare the meat cuts properly here)! Not all Gambian's have tasted hyena and from what I can gather it's quite a 'bush' thing to eat! So not only am I becoming a Gambian woman I’m now a Gambian bush woman!!!!

As a side I also want to mention that I can now brew my own attayah (that's the green tea that people drink here). The brewing process takes some time and the little tea pot and the glasses that you pour it in to get really hot but I’m slowly burning away my fingertips and soon I won’t feel the pain at all!!!

The kill!! The guy knelt down is the hunter.

This man wanted to show me how sharp the teeth were!!

Me brewing green tea!

Christmas, New Year and new friends!!!

2011-01-04T15:06:00.000Z

I decided to spend Christmas and the New Year in Kerewan rather than heading for the bright lights of the city. Many VSOs return to England for Christmas or go to Kombo. Some stay in a posh hotels and lots of VSOs had family around who had come over to visit them (escaping the cold weather in the UK!)So my decision to stay 'up-country' on 'my own' came as a surprise to many!

Christmas kind of crept up on me! As I have mentioned before there were no signs of Christmas here in Kerewan, not a single sparkle of tinsel and it was actually quite refreshing! I think it will be unlikely that I’ll ever have such a 'commercial free' Christmas again!

On Christmas morning I got up nice and early and rode my motorbike to Farafenni (about an hour and a half ride) so that I could attend a Catholic Church service. Farafenni is much bigger than Kerewan; it has a huge hospital, a market, gelly (transport) park, immigration office, police station etc. Consequently it has a few 'ghetto' like places on the edge of town and it was in the middle of one of these that the church was situated.

I parked my bike in a more secure area in the town itself and then walked to the church. I got quite a few stares!! Needless to say I was the only white person at the church! The service itself was in Jolof (one of the local languages here) with occasional bits of English thrown in.

After mass I purchased some material so that I could make some cushion covers for my house (I love the material here, one of my neighbours recently commented that my house was decorated with so many random colours and materials - it wasn't actually intended as a compliment but I took it that way!) and then made my way home.

My bike broke down (again) on the way home but luckily it was very close to 'Riders' (the garage) which was really convenient! I finally got home around 3pm!! When I got in I gave out some sweets to the people on the compound (this is a traditional thing that you do on special occasions, I’ve mentioned it before but to remind you it is called 'saliboo') and wished them all a merry Christmas. This went down really well and for the rest of the day every time I saw someone from the compound they started singing merry Christmas to me (in the tune of happy birthday!!)

I then made mash potatoes and gravy (I'd purchased a bisto on my last trip to Kombo)!! I made enough for everyone to try some and then sat eating it whilst listening to Christmas songs. The people on my compound were intrigued and many of them now think that this is what white people 'do' at Christmas!!!

In the evening time I sat outside my house and brewed 'lait' (this is a sweet milky drink made out of condensed cream and it's absolutely gorgeous - you brew it in a similar way to 'attayah'). Me and my compound people (or my compound people and I) sat outside until late evening chatting and drinking lait whilst listening to Bob Marley. It was really nice. A very spiritual Christmas. Good for the soul!!

Which brings me on to new year!! I had intended to go to the big city for New Year because apparently that is where the party is at! However due to circumstances (namely Nathan's indecisiveness - but that's a whole different story) I ended up staying in Kerewan.

Though I had a lovely time at Christmas I felt that I wanted a change in scenery (people wise) for the New Year celebrations! Conveniently just before the New Year I made some new friends here in Kerewan! A new set of people and a new place to hang out! So on new year’s eve I went to my new friends 'spot', drank lait (the pass-times are quite similar!)listened to music (I have appropriate music for every occasion and my new friends were suitably impressed with my music collection and knowledge of particular artists!!)and then chilled with them for the evening. They were great company and just what I needed for the New Year!!

So I had a 'different' Christmas and a 'different' New Year experience but both were wonderful! The only thing lacking of course was family! (Oh and good food, presents, board games, alcohol, crackers etc).

There were no holidays for Christmas and the new year as they fell on weekends and now things are pretty much back to normal in Kerewan (or 'the wan' as Paul and I affectionately call it). I have noticed that I seemed to have gained a lot more respect from many locals here for staying around at Christmas and New Year, (I don’t think many VSOs do that) and now, as well as my 'new friends', I also have lots more people wanting to greet me, talk to me and inviting me to drink and eat with them! I'm becoming quite popular!!

Busy Busy!!

2010-12-23T10:49:00.001Z

Been looking for ages in the newspapers here and also on the net to see if I could find some sort of news report about the Busy Signal concert that I went to. Nothing to be found!

In the end a friend of mine in Barbados said that he'd heard about the concert!!! So I decided to widen my research!! Found the following article (see link below). Apparently there were 50,000 people inside and 10,000 outside who couldn't get in!!!

And finally in response to some of the comments on my blog! - I think Busy is great - wonderful infact but don't get me wrong, Beenie Man is a legend!

http://rjrnewsonline.com/entertainment/busy-signal-performs-gambia

Busy Signal Concert

2010-12-14T11:20:00.002Z

On Saturday night I went to see a Jamaican artist called Busy Signal perform at the Independence Stadium at Bakau.

The crowd was huge and absolutely insane and the crowd-control (by the police and military) was like nothing I have ever experienced before.

That's all I'm prepared to say on my blog!!

Don't really know what I was thinking going to see a 'dancehall/ragga' artist in Africa!

Though I never actually made it home that night I had an awesome time and it was an incredible experience.

Busy is crazy but I think I’m in love with him!!!

The Rodent War Chronicles (part one)

2010-12-06T14:05:00.002Z

I am beginning to accept that my dealings with rodents will be an on-going concern during my stay in The Gambia. Consequently, I felt it important to title my post in such a way that demonstrates that I have reconciled myself to this and acknowledge that there may be many more posts relating to rodent issues. The war chronicles have began, there will be victories and defeats on both sides and blood will be shed (hopefully not mine)!

Following the discovery of ñino jalo in the latrine area there have been further developments. Ñino Jalo was spotted one evening when I returned from a trip to Kombo and it was the next day that I went to work and found out the name of the strange creature. When I returned from work that evening I was talking to my neighbour, Isatou (mother of Bassi and little Kaddy) and she said that during the day (when I was at work) she saw a ñino jalo in her house, she cornered it and then called one of the boys from the compound to kill it. (Apparently he beat it with a stone).

Well being an optimistic person I thought that this was wonderful news and that Isatou had killed 'the' ñino jalo! I believed that there was very little for me to do now and I didn’t even bother setting a rat trap (though if truth be told I did keep looking at the plug hole every time I used the latrine area).

To my horror, the next morning when I woke up and went to the latrine there were large droppings littering the floor?!!Oh no! How could this be? Surely there was only one ñino jalo in the whole of The Gambia and Isatou killed it?!!

Reluctantly I had to accept the possibility that there might be more than one ñino jalo and though I’m sure Isatou killed the hideous beast that lived in my plughole (please please be true) there may be others around. So the trap was set.

Now the trap is a vicious little thing (actually it's quite big) and the metal bit that springs back to kill the rodent is so fast and strong (not to mention loud), I really believe that it could cut your fingers off, it would break your hand at the very least! Setting the trap was quite scary and when I put it on the floor in the latrine area I did so delicately and was anxious the whole time about the slightest vibration setting it off and giving me a heart attack.

Well a few days passed and the trap was empty and rather than admit that the location of the trap or the food source placed on it (a lump of meat covered in peanut sauce courtesy of Isatou) needed changing I was happy to believe that all the ñino jalos that lived in my vicinity were dead. That is until one morning when I got up and saw the trap upside down with the lump of meat close by!

At first I was too scared to turn the trap over, though it didn't look like anything was underneath it the thought of having my hands so close to a killer ñino jalo terrified me. I was brave though and realised that it had to be done - so I called Paul!!

The trap was turned over and it was rodent-less. There was however a tail!! I assumed that it was the tail of a rodent but Isatou (who seems to be thriving on my ñino jalo issues) inspected the tail and announced that it belonged to a lizard. I felt bad that I had trapped a lizard’s tail but I’m sure that their tails grow back?!!

I have to confess that it took me a couple of days to remove the tail from the trap - it was all a bit gross. After removing the tail I left the trap (not set) outside for a while and temporarily forgot my ñino jalo concerns (I don't think that I actually forgot it - I just put it to the back of my mind though I still made sure that the doors to the house were closed properly, even when popping in and out the house and I also inspected the latrine area before entering and did all my business in there with an eye on the plughole).

Ñino Jalo was becoming a distant memory, that is until the other day when Isatou ran into my house shrieking with excitement, 'Kaddy, Kaddy, ñino jalo, ñino jalo!' She came into my house, grabbed my hand and led me next door; through her house and out into her cooking and latrine area (which is literally separated from mine by a wall about 6ft high - at the bottom of which there is a hole big enough for a cat to get through). She pushed past the children who had gathered to see the spectacle and pointed eagerly to a bucket in the corner. 'Ñino Jalo' she said, 'ñino jalo'.

At first when I looked down at the bucket I couldn’t see anything but then after close examination I saw the nose of a rodent hiding behind the bucket (the rodent thought it was hiding but in fact it was trapped there by the blood-thirsty crowd). Apparently it had come from my latrine area through the hole at the bottom of the wall and into Isatou's latrine area. One of the boys from the compound was summoned. The boy broke a piece of wood in half and using the jagged edge he speared ñino jalo in the side. He then used the piece of wood to pull it out from behind the bucket and crushed its head with a large stone. Ñino Jalo's little leg shook for while and then stopped.

The killing of ñino jalo was a strange emotional experience for me. As I watched the make-shift spear plunge into ñino jalo's side and then the stone crushing down on its head, I was aware that I was witnessing something unpleasant HOWEVER I was also aware that another ñino jalo was being eradicated (possibly the one that lived in my latrine) and I couldn’t help but feel relieved and a little bit excited.

I took a photo of ñino jalo as it was being carried out the house so I thought that I'd share that joy with you all!! I think all the ñino jalos in The Gambia are dead now however I still set my rat trap that evening - just in case!!!

The killer trap (with the tail attached!!)

A closer look at that tail!

A dead nino jalo (the last one in The Gambia?!!)

Janding returns from Mecca

2010-12-06T11:56:00.006Z

Over the last week or so there has been a lot of talk about Janding returning from her trip to Mecca (Janding is Step-dad’s first wife). I know that going to Mecca is something that Muslims try to do but many of the Muslims in The Gambia could never afford to go to Mecca so when people do, their return is a huge event. And I mean HUGE!!!

Of the five wives that live on the compound, three have been to Mecca; Janding being the third (I made an error in one of my earlier blogs concerning Ceesay Kunda, I said that both Dad and Step-dad had two wives each but in fact, Dad has three wives). I am told that having so many people from the one compound make the trip to Mecca is rare and a sign of the Cessay family’s status and wealth.

Well on Friday evening Janding returned and the celebration began. Janding was dressed in a white robe, decorated in gold chains and seated on an arm chair in a central part of the compound. A large mat was laid out in front of her. Food was constantly being cooked in huge pots and served throughout the day. Juice and a variety of soft drinks were flowing, grapefruits by the plenty and music, drums and chanting could be heard from Friday evening until Sunday afternoon. The material canopies that were erected around the compound to provide shade gave the place a regal feel and everybody was dressed in their finest outfits.

Over the course of the weekend people came to visit the compound and greet Janding and, though I was working on both Saturday and Sunday and therefore missed the bulk of the visitors, I must have seen at least two hundred people come and go!

On Saturday as I left for work in the morning, I was told to look at the cow that had been purchased to slaughter in honour of Janding’s return (and to feed the many visitors). Though it was only a couple of weeks ago that I witnessed the rams being slaughtered without too much dismay, I was glad that I wouldn’t be around when the cow was killed - I couldn’t help but feel disturbed when I saw the huge and helpless beast, bound and lying on the floor. Needless to say I disguised my emotions well and was able to assist when instructed by the excited crowd to take photos of the poor beast and then another of Janding stood over it!

The party lasted 2 nights and almost three days and gradually the visitors started to leave, most had left by Sunday evening (though not all). It was the biggest celebration that I have seen so far since being in The Gambia and from what I am told they don’t get much bigger than this. I also found out that when a woman returns from Mecca you add ‘Aja’ to the beginning of her name (so Janding is now called Aja Janding) and if it is a male who has returned you add Alhajie to the beginning of his name.

Finally, (and I hate to say it but..) the beef was delicious!

Lisa preparing some 'meat'

Some of the visiting children (and Paul)!

Everybody loves the camera!!

More children!!

The cow

Visitors under a conopy

Excited children! (The middle two, Bassi and Awa live on the compound and are frequent house 'guests'!)

Some of the important men (Dad is seated on the chair on the left holding his youngest child - Mama)

Janding (on the right) with the cow

Aja Janding (the little girl just ran up next to Janding when she saw me taking the picture!)

Oustide my house! The visitors enjoying their food.

More visitors, more food!

Cooking

Jenoba (one of Janding's daugthers)

Enjoying the shade of the canopy

Busy? (I had to go through the lengthy Mandinka greetings with everyone here - one at a time!!)

Some of the men getting away from the crowds (hiding?!!)

Breakdown!

2010-11-28T11:02:00.000Z

Yesterday I set off on my bike around 2pm to attend a meeting at a school. About half way through my journey the bike's engine just cut out. Luckily at this point of the journey I was on a main road so I pulled over and decided to do the routine checks they tell you about in training.

I'm no mechanic but I realised that something quite serious was wrong when the 'kick start thingy' (told you I was no mechanic) had no resistance when I put my foot on it, it simply dropped down when very little pressure was applied. I also checked the oil and water and pulled the little fuel tube away from the little fuel 'bit' that it's connected to (to make sure that fuel was flowing to the engine) - I saw all this done during training!

Within about 20 seconds I realised that this was too complex a breakdown for me to deal with (basically unless it involves turning the fuel tank setting to ‘reserve’ then I’m stuck - and sometimes I even find that a bit tricky as the ‘turning thing’ can be difficult to manoeuvre) Anyway I called 'Riders' (they are the NGO that deal with our motorbikes, they did the training in Kanifing in the Kombos and have workshops across The Gambia – fortunately one of those workshops is in Kerewan – apparently before they had a workshop in Kerewan, when you broke down you would have to wait for someone to come from Kanifing in Kombo)!

The guy from Riders asked me what the problem was so I gave him my detailed analysis (as specified above). I sometimes get the impression that the guys from Riders don’t think women are suited to riding motorbikes! I’ve NEVER seen a Gambian woman ride a motorbike and during our motorbike training one of the trainers said that he was going to ‘go through the points slowly because we all know how women’s heads get muddled and they are easily confused’!!! Following the brief and rather disjointed telephone conversation (during which I confirmed that women were easily confused because I couldn’t actually tell him where I was. I remembered the name of a couple of the villages that I had passed through but not the last on – but at least I was on the main road?!) the guy from Riders told me to hold on and that he would come and find me.

So I was stranded! Luckily I had a bottle of water, reception on one of my phones and a camera!! Yes a camera! Therefore enabling me to take some ‘memorable’ pictures of my first breakdown!!

After about an hour the guy from Riders turned up on his motorbike? (He clearly didn’t think that my breakdown was going to require much attention)! However after a few minutes examining my bike he announced, ‘this is a serious breakdown’. These words filled me with joy! Which seems quite strange because why would anyone want a serious breakdown? This would mean that I would be without the bike for a while? But the truth is that as I was waiting for the mechanic to turn up I started becoming anxious and concerned about how embarrassed I would be if he was able to start the motorbike within a few seconds. (One morning I was unable to start my bike from outside my house so I called Riders and they said that they would come and look at it later. When I returned home from work and before the mechanic from Riders had arrived, I decided to try the bike again and to my surprise it worked!! I then had to ring Riders and tell them not to come out because my bike worked now. Once again confirming the belief that women and motorbikes are not well-matched)!

So a serious breakdown! I knew it!!! There was no vehicle to transport my bike back to Kerewan so the mechanic suggested that we tie a rope between our bikes and that he would tow me back. However there was no rope so after a few unsuccessful attempts with bungee cords he then produced a bandage! (The people here are so resourceful). This was a success and he was able to tow me back – that is until his fuel ran out and we came to a standstill again! After he had transferred fuel from my tank to his (using my water bottle, so now I was out of water!) we continued on our way!!

My bike is currently with Riders and hopefully I will have it back in the next few days. (For anyone interested in bikes apparently the piston is broken?) It was funny though because the day before my breakdown the speedometer on my bike had stopped working and I had been meaning to take it to Riders the following day but I’d just been too busy. Following my breakdown the mechanic asked me how fast I was going and I had to confess that I didn’t know! Women and motorbikes hey?!!!!

Nothing this way!

Nothing that way!

Stranded with my camera!!