Just thought I would post a few pics from Mariella’s returning party. Mariella was a volunteer and she returned for a visit for a week to see her boyfriend Max and to catch up with us all.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
In the last few weeks I have been visiting schools, when I don’t have lectures, and working with the teacher or observing their lessons. I thought I would post some pics of the different classrooms I see. The presence or absence of a sponsor makes a big difference.
The one I went to today had a sponsorship group from the Netherlands. They had a nursery school in the mornings that ran adult education classes in the evenings. Attached to the school was a medical clinic (it was just like a miniature hospital, very nice inside), a skills training centre with a gift shop and a computer training centre. The school had lots of resources and the children were even given a toothbrush each so they could clean their teeth at school.
Unfortunately the staff did say that the sponsors usually arrive with a truck load of stuff and often it isn’t things they really need. I did notice that many of their resources were still in boxes. Resources and books from overseas are only useful if the teachers know what they are for and how to use them. The books I have tried to get the children to read have been a waste of time because the stories are so removed from the lives of the children that they can’t predict or understand what they are about so the reading is meaningless.
The one I went to today had a sponsorship group from the Netherlands. They had a nursery school in the mornings that ran adult education classes in the evenings. Attached to the school was a medical clinic (it was just like a miniature hospital, very nice inside), a skills training centre with a gift shop and a computer training centre. The school had lots of resources and the children were even given a toothbrush each so they could clean their teeth at school.
Unfortunately the staff did say that the sponsors usually arrive with a truck load of stuff and often it isn’t things they really need. I did notice that many of their resources were still in boxes. Resources and books from overseas are only useful if the teachers know what they are for and how to use them. The books I have tried to get the children to read have been a waste of time because the stories are so removed from the lives of the children that they can’t predict or understand what they are about so the reading is meaningless.
Don't get tickets on yourself
After today I thought I should do a quick blog on the amusement of being a wealthy catch for a local bloke. Today made me smile so I thought it should be recorded.
Being a white female means that you attract a lot of unwanted attention and it is so constant that you learn to just expect it and fob it off. In addition to that being white means that people will bug you and try to get to you do things so they can get money off you. Today was one of those days.
I had just finished teaching observations and was getting ready to sit in a Gelli for a long while in order to go back to Brikama. I was on the ‘coastal road’ at the ‘turntable’ (roundabouts are so rare in the Gambia that the three I know of are significant landmarks in their area). I knew that transport to Brikama from the coastal road was difficult so I was ready to sit in a Gelli for around an hour at the turntable garage, waiting for enough people (around 20 or so) who wanted to go to Brikama to fill it. This is the usual procedure.
Suddenly a taxi driver pulled over and said ‘I am going to the end of coastal road.’ I said I am going to Brikama no thanks I will get a Gelli, assuming he wanted a town trip which you pay through the nose for. Then he said (in a you white people are stupid sort of way) ‘You will wait for ages, I will take you to the end of coastal road and you can get transport from there, 5 Dalasi’. I was in the middle of saying ‘no thanks’, the usual response to tricks to get money out of you, when I realized he made perfect sense and I was being a snobby idiot. So I said ‘You are so right, thank you’ and jumped in. Then he asked me my name and I told him Awa and asked his, Demba. Then he said ‘Awa, I would like to have an Awa for my wife’. I said I knew plenty and could find him one and he said ‘Why can’t you love me?’ I told him I had a boyfriend back home and all I could do was respect him. He then picked up some more passengers and left me alone but turned the radio up – the song was blaring I love you I want you to be my wife…. how appropriate. Needless to say he was right in the end and I got back to Brikama in no time – with a marriage proposal to boot.
Getting back to the college I encountered another encounter of the type. I had got into my office for not long when one of the students walks in, closes the door, and says ‘Madame don’t you remember me?’ I said ‘No are you in the class I have now?’ and then I suddenly remembered him. Last week the same student had walked in and asked to be my friend. Knowing that it is not customary for females to be friends with males without implying a relationship I told him I had a boyfriend and that he was jealous (sorry Nic!) and didn’t like me to be friends with males. In reply the student looked at me in a level way and he said ‘Look Miss I don’t mean to be impolite but how old are you?’ I told him thirty one and he said ‘Well I’m twenty one, it would just be ridiculous if I wanted a relationship with you I am way to young, I just want to be your friend!’ Well that cut me down to size! I did still refuse the friendship offer (he isn’t one of my students). He has promised me he will be persistent and visit me every week until I become his friend, which he followed up on today much to my amusement.
Being a white female means that you attract a lot of unwanted attention and it is so constant that you learn to just expect it and fob it off. In addition to that being white means that people will bug you and try to get to you do things so they can get money off you. Today was one of those days.
I had just finished teaching observations and was getting ready to sit in a Gelli for a long while in order to go back to Brikama. I was on the ‘coastal road’ at the ‘turntable’ (roundabouts are so rare in the Gambia that the three I know of are significant landmarks in their area). I knew that transport to Brikama from the coastal road was difficult so I was ready to sit in a Gelli for around an hour at the turntable garage, waiting for enough people (around 20 or so) who wanted to go to Brikama to fill it. This is the usual procedure.
Suddenly a taxi driver pulled over and said ‘I am going to the end of coastal road.’ I said I am going to Brikama no thanks I will get a Gelli, assuming he wanted a town trip which you pay through the nose for. Then he said (in a you white people are stupid sort of way) ‘You will wait for ages, I will take you to the end of coastal road and you can get transport from there, 5 Dalasi’. I was in the middle of saying ‘no thanks’, the usual response to tricks to get money out of you, when I realized he made perfect sense and I was being a snobby idiot. So I said ‘You are so right, thank you’ and jumped in. Then he asked me my name and I told him Awa and asked his, Demba. Then he said ‘Awa, I would like to have an Awa for my wife’. I said I knew plenty and could find him one and he said ‘Why can’t you love me?’ I told him I had a boyfriend back home and all I could do was respect him. He then picked up some more passengers and left me alone but turned the radio up – the song was blaring I love you I want you to be my wife…. how appropriate. Needless to say he was right in the end and I got back to Brikama in no time – with a marriage proposal to boot.
Getting back to the college I encountered another encounter of the type. I had got into my office for not long when one of the students walks in, closes the door, and says ‘Madame don’t you remember me?’ I said ‘No are you in the class I have now?’ and then I suddenly remembered him. Last week the same student had walked in and asked to be my friend. Knowing that it is not customary for females to be friends with males without implying a relationship I told him I had a boyfriend and that he was jealous (sorry Nic!) and didn’t like me to be friends with males. In reply the student looked at me in a level way and he said ‘Look Miss I don’t mean to be impolite but how old are you?’ I told him thirty one and he said ‘Well I’m twenty one, it would just be ridiculous if I wanted a relationship with you I am way to young, I just want to be your friend!’ Well that cut me down to size! I did still refuse the friendship offer (he isn’t one of my students). He has promised me he will be persistent and visit me every week until I become his friend, which he followed up on today much to my amusement.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
The Gasp
I have seen many things in the Gambia which have been difficult to see or hear about but this is the first time I have really found something that shocked me, something unexpected. Though I am still not sure if it is a good thing or a bad thing because of how amazing it was.
I have been organizing myself to go and observe students teaching over the last few weeks and this student was my last stop. I rang the evening before and was surprised to talk to a student with unexpectedly good English. Nothing impressed me more though than when I saw this student’s school.
Parfeh was out trying to locate me when I first arrived at the school (guided by a local) and I came to a fairly large mud brick room filled with small tables and around 80 mixed aged nursery school children. I didn’t know what else to do so I just started singing and the children good naturedly joined in. They were amazing for such a range of ages to be able to sing along in English with me so well.
Parfeh arrived and again I was amazed by how well spoken he was. He explained that he had only just started school this week and some of the children were new, but agreed to rehash one of the previous year’s lessons for me to observe (yeah I have to do that sometimes). He then taught a lesson on the abc combining letters, words and counting all of which the previous grade was able to do. It would have been nearly impossible to have used child centred methods with such a large group of children, especially with a few who had just started and still wanted their mums. However again it was amazing to see the rapport Parfeh had with the children, he really seemed to enjoy teaching them.
Parfeh was unemployed and started his own school in 1998. He still has no sponsor so funds the school himself and has paid for his own tuition to do studies in ECD. He is really struggling but definitely not through lack of trying and he would be one of the most brilliant students I have seen in a while.
My gasp is one of shock that someone would actually have to teach 80 children of that age, especially in a bare classroom which was so hot you could fill a cup from your forehead (no exaggeration), or that even under those conditions some teachers are so gifted the children still learn. Imagine what a teacher like that could do if given the advantages of the Western World.
I have been organizing myself to go and observe students teaching over the last few weeks and this student was my last stop. I rang the evening before and was surprised to talk to a student with unexpectedly good English. Nothing impressed me more though than when I saw this student’s school.
Parfeh was out trying to locate me when I first arrived at the school (guided by a local) and I came to a fairly large mud brick room filled with small tables and around 80 mixed aged nursery school children. I didn’t know what else to do so I just started singing and the children good naturedly joined in. They were amazing for such a range of ages to be able to sing along in English with me so well.
Parfeh arrived and again I was amazed by how well spoken he was. He explained that he had only just started school this week and some of the children were new, but agreed to rehash one of the previous year’s lessons for me to observe (yeah I have to do that sometimes). He then taught a lesson on the abc combining letters, words and counting all of which the previous grade was able to do. It would have been nearly impossible to have used child centred methods with such a large group of children, especially with a few who had just started and still wanted their mums. However again it was amazing to see the rapport Parfeh had with the children, he really seemed to enjoy teaching them.
Parfeh was unemployed and started his own school in 1998. He still has no sponsor so funds the school himself and has paid for his own tuition to do studies in ECD. He is really struggling but definitely not through lack of trying and he would be one of the most brilliant students I have seen in a while.
My gasp is one of shock that someone would actually have to teach 80 children of that age, especially in a bare classroom which was so hot you could fill a cup from your forehead (no exaggeration), or that even under those conditions some teachers are so gifted the children still learn. Imagine what a teacher like that could do if given the advantages of the Western World.
Burama's Nursery
In an earlier post I mentioned visiting my student in Marakissa, a lovely guy who is very dedicated to his work. Burama was also very keen for me to visit his nursery so I thought it would be a good chance for some skills sharing if I went when Sherryn and her mother (who is also a teacher) were there. And it was.
We took along some paint and paper to do some hand painting with Burama’s class. He was, as usual, very excited to see us and very grateful for our time. I took a really deep breath however as I saw that this amazingly bright and enthusiastic student had the smallest classroom I had seen and fifty three year olds filling it. I guess it is a good testimony to how well the school is going as they are expanding quickly in class size. He did however have the best desks I had seen and some useful teaching resources, though very few.
The most delightful thing was that although the children had only started nursery earlier that week, when Burama spoke the whole class stopped and looked at him with admiration. He is an amazing teacher I don’t know many people who could do that with three year olds!
So the class went well, although very messily. The children were very proud of their art. Unfortunately we didn’t take any photos.
At the end of the lesson the children all went outside and Sherryn and Jean exchanged songs with the other teachers and made a big impression (Burama texted me he was the happiest guy in the world after our visit and we are now considered a member of staff).
We took along some paint and paper to do some hand painting with Burama’s class. He was, as usual, very excited to see us and very grateful for our time. I took a really deep breath however as I saw that this amazingly bright and enthusiastic student had the smallest classroom I had seen and fifty three year olds filling it. I guess it is a good testimony to how well the school is going as they are expanding quickly in class size. He did however have the best desks I had seen and some useful teaching resources, though very few.
The most delightful thing was that although the children had only started nursery earlier that week, when Burama spoke the whole class stopped and looked at him with admiration. He is an amazing teacher I don’t know many people who could do that with three year olds!
So the class went well, although very messily. The children were very proud of their art. Unfortunately we didn’t take any photos.
At the end of the lesson the children all went outside and Sherryn and Jean exchanged songs with the other teachers and made a big impression (Burama texted me he was the happiest guy in the world after our visit and we are now considered a member of staff).
Tie Dye
One of my neighbours does tie dye to pay her school fees so we arranged for some lessons with her. Here are the pics of a lovely afternoon. The lesson was about 2 hours late so we had a great time sitting and chatting as visitors dropped in and out all afternoon to greet my ‘strangers’.
Wet Season
I think the wet deserves some kind of mention in the blog. Lately we have been getting really heavy downpours. Paul’s comment was “I think you just had Victoria’s yearly rainfall in one night”. Said with a smile until we were in the market when the next one came!
One night during Paul’s stay we went out to tea at a restaurant in the market. While we were eating tea the heavens opened and the rain came. We waited for a while but once the rain here starts it doesn’t stop. So we decided to risk it, however all the streets of the market had turned to rivers. Rivers that contained all the indiscretions that I have seen occur in the market such as spitting snot balls or peeing in a side street to disposing of rotting fish and vegetables. This mix of delights was currently swirling alongside plastic bags and all sorts of discarded rubbish in knee deep water both sides of the only escape route. It is times like these when you wish your imagination could be switched off. It was only bettered by walking past the actual rubbish dump with rotting goat carcasses and wading through water even deeper that was swimming with waste. Needless to say the shower was a very good friend that night!
The other bonus of the wet season is the increasingly hotter days, matched quite nicely by power outs that take up at least 20 hours each day. This combination makes for increasingly frustrating times as computer batteries flatten, fans don’t work, internet shortages and phones that run out of charge. I have to say though that it is so much worse for the Gambians because at least I can leave my phone in overnight and catch the 2 or so hours of power. The Gambians can wait for ages to actually have their phone charged at a friend’s house with power. Let alone the businesses, such as the saw mill who have probably only got to work a total of one day in the week.
It is a tough time but everyone manages so nicely with a smile.
I thought you might like the photos of the taxi who found the absolute worst of the wet season. We smiled when we saw what was in the back window!
One night during Paul’s stay we went out to tea at a restaurant in the market. While we were eating tea the heavens opened and the rain came. We waited for a while but once the rain here starts it doesn’t stop. So we decided to risk it, however all the streets of the market had turned to rivers. Rivers that contained all the indiscretions that I have seen occur in the market such as spitting snot balls or peeing in a side street to disposing of rotting fish and vegetables. This mix of delights was currently swirling alongside plastic bags and all sorts of discarded rubbish in knee deep water both sides of the only escape route. It is times like these when you wish your imagination could be switched off. It was only bettered by walking past the actual rubbish dump with rotting goat carcasses and wading through water even deeper that was swimming with waste. Needless to say the shower was a very good friend that night!
The other bonus of the wet season is the increasingly hotter days, matched quite nicely by power outs that take up at least 20 hours each day. This combination makes for increasingly frustrating times as computer batteries flatten, fans don’t work, internet shortages and phones that run out of charge. I have to say though that it is so much worse for the Gambians because at least I can leave my phone in overnight and catch the 2 or so hours of power. The Gambians can wait for ages to actually have their phone charged at a friend’s house with power. Let alone the businesses, such as the saw mill who have probably only got to work a total of one day in the week.
It is a tough time but everyone manages so nicely with a smile.
I thought you might like the photos of the taxi who found the absolute worst of the wet season. We smiled when we saw what was in the back window!
P.S. Did I mention how hot it is?????
Ugly on the outside but Sweet on the Inside
Sherryn and her mother Jean came to visit last week. My first experience for Sherryn and her mum (apart from the market which takes about a month to acclimatize to), was to watch the fishermen come in again. I had also organized to meet Diana, another ECD person, in Bakau as well. However I never quite imagined what the result of Sherryn smiling sweetly on the Bakau Guest House balcony would be!!!
The lady who serves at the bar in the guest house remembered me from the week before and was quite friendly and chatted to us. She then waved to her fisherman friend who then spied Sherryn and was instantly besotted.
He ran up all the steps to the balcony to introduce himself – Foxy Brown. Then he ran down to find us the best butterfish he could, after ‘convincing’ us that butterfish was the best fish around. Then he decided that we should get it cooked at the fish market and eat it straight away. I wasn’t really sure if he was on anything but I think he has been the most delightful character I have met in the Gambia – he just made me smile so much.
After deciding we had to cook the butterfish he led us all down to the fish market and took us on a ‘tour on steroids’ of the fish market. He darted in and out of each place making certain we were taking enough photos of everything we saw. He showed us each different variety of fish, where they cook the fish, the boats they catch the fish in, the sellers, where they smoke the fish and where they dry the fish. Each stop was very comical, he was really quite gorgeous. Then on the way back to fillet the fish he mentioned that Sherryn could become his wife, to my extreme jealousy. Foxy is not my type but I was in Gambia for ages before I got that sort of compliment (if you call it that) – Sherryn managed it after only one day!
So after announcing his undying love, Foxy then proceeded to fillet our fish whilst chasing away any bumsters who came near. One, however, got in the most beautiful saying before being chased off ‘Butterfish are like me – Ugly on the outside but sweet on the inside’. I couldn’t think of a better way of describing Foxy actually.
After the fish was nicely filleted Foxy directed the ladies on how to cook it for us and then took Sherryn, Jean and myself on a lovely walk along the beach in the sunset, promising Sherryn he would cook her a barbeque on the beach before she went home. In the meantime, however, Diana arrived so we headed back to the guest house but soon got our dinner delivered by Foxy who also stopped for a drink and to give Sherryn his phone number. A really gorgeous evening (though I’m not so sure Sherryn agrees ;-) )
The lady who serves at the bar in the guest house remembered me from the week before and was quite friendly and chatted to us. She then waved to her fisherman friend who then spied Sherryn and was instantly besotted.
He ran up all the steps to the balcony to introduce himself – Foxy Brown. Then he ran down to find us the best butterfish he could, after ‘convincing’ us that butterfish was the best fish around. Then he decided that we should get it cooked at the fish market and eat it straight away. I wasn’t really sure if he was on anything but I think he has been the most delightful character I have met in the Gambia – he just made me smile so much.
After deciding we had to cook the butterfish he led us all down to the fish market and took us on a ‘tour on steroids’ of the fish market. He darted in and out of each place making certain we were taking enough photos of everything we saw. He showed us each different variety of fish, where they cook the fish, the boats they catch the fish in, the sellers, where they smoke the fish and where they dry the fish. Each stop was very comical, he was really quite gorgeous. Then on the way back to fillet the fish he mentioned that Sherryn could become his wife, to my extreme jealousy. Foxy is not my type but I was in Gambia for ages before I got that sort of compliment (if you call it that) – Sherryn managed it after only one day!
So after announcing his undying love, Foxy then proceeded to fillet our fish whilst chasing away any bumsters who came near. One, however, got in the most beautiful saying before being chased off ‘Butterfish are like me – Ugly on the outside but sweet on the inside’. I couldn’t think of a better way of describing Foxy actually.
After the fish was nicely filleted Foxy directed the ladies on how to cook it for us and then took Sherryn, Jean and myself on a lovely walk along the beach in the sunset, promising Sherryn he would cook her a barbeque on the beach before she went home. In the meantime, however, Diana arrived so we headed back to the guest house but soon got our dinner delivered by Foxy who also stopped for a drink and to give Sherryn his phone number. A really gorgeous evening (though I’m not so sure Sherryn agrees ;-) )
A workshop to remember
I just had the very best weekend. Paul sadly flew out early Friday morning, but then I was kept busy b y leaving to give a workshop in a small rural village called Illiassa.
Tamba, one of my students, is a man with a lot of get up and go. I had visited him before and was incredibly impressed by the way he ran his school. He runs an excellent nursery and in addition has a chicken farm and orchard which produces fresh produce for the village and enough to sell to the city areas to help pay the schools running cost. He is hoping to expand to a day care and a small farming enterprise to train rural youth. In addition to all this he organizes a yearly workshop in his village to provide additional training for ECD facilitators. The workshop is free, with catering and accommodation, if participants pay their own travel costs. Tamba is amazing!!!
The plan was to meet Glynn, a fellow lecturer who comes from England, at the ferry terminal and make our way to Illiassa. I met Glynn in the ferry terminal but walked into the terminal to be greeted with a huge ‘Awa Colley’ because a big group of my students were also meeting up to travel to the workshop and were happy to see me. We all travelled together on the same ferry but Glynn and I and her niece who was visiting, used the internet before leaving and so had to wait for the next ferry for the transport to Illiassa to fill and leave. This meant sitting in a hot car in the hot sun for two hours before taking off. We arrived a long time after the students.
When we did arrive, however, we received the most heart-warming welcoming from the students who greeted us like long lost friends, even though it had only been two weeks since college closed. It was great to catch up and I found that chatting to the students was just like chatting to a friend, which is unusual because often it is difficult to get a conversation flowing due to the difference between the cultures.
That night we all sat in Tamba’s compound and ate a dry rice and fish dish out of shared bowls with our hands and the students grouped together and caught up and sang their ECD songs in beautiful voices. They also started dancing and decided that a certain ECD lecturer needed to learn the Gambian way of dancing. It was a great night.
That night it turned out that I was staying in the village chief’s house. It also turned out that the village chief was a friend of Ejay’s father (Ejay is my neighbor) and is Ejay’s namesake. A small world! It was a hot night as there was no power and the room was stifling but it was an experience none the less.
The next day I was first to kick off the workshop with a session on teaching approaches, which I have been told was well received. Mostly I just loved the rapport the students had - it was similar again to the last day of ECD. I then had to quickly leave to make it in time to meet Sherryn from the plane. This meant going and sitting by the road and waiting for a car going back to Kombo.
I was lucky I didn’t have to wait long, but the gelli I got on was going to a compound where the people were all travelling to a naming ceremony. This was unusual because the gelli drove down to a compound and then parked and waited for the family to eat lunch, say prayers and load the gelli. So I sat on a log with the children and watched as a goat and sheep were tied to the roof of the gelli and bags of rice were loaded on top.
The people of the area I was in however must not have seen many white people and they were keen to have a conversation with me, despite my limited Mandinka. A lady came along and sat down and tried to chat to me, and then decided to be my voice and told everyone what she thought I should be saying. The result was the whole family standing round and staring down at me – not a really comfortable situation.
Eventually the gelli left and I had a great trip with the family who were really keen on trying to understand my every action – which involved regularly trying to chat to me in a language I didn’t understand. A really beautiful experience because they really were so kind. I was at least able to play with the babies which made for a fun ride.
Once at the ferry I said farewell to the family and by chance met up with some Agriculture volunteers, one being a VSO that I knew. The group was mostly from Canada and over to share farming experiences with the villagers. The ferry ride was most interesting however because right at the very end it crashed. I was sitting near a window and watching the ferry pull up to a dock because we had arrived at the same time as another ferry was unloading. I noticed the dock getting close and didn’t think anything of it until I saw the Gambians frantically moving their children away from the window. Luckily, I moved too and about the same time there was a big bang and the window smashed. It really wasn’t too bad and the ferry was still ok. It did give me a fright thought.
Tamba, one of my students, is a man with a lot of get up and go. I had visited him before and was incredibly impressed by the way he ran his school. He runs an excellent nursery and in addition has a chicken farm and orchard which produces fresh produce for the village and enough to sell to the city areas to help pay the schools running cost. He is hoping to expand to a day care and a small farming enterprise to train rural youth. In addition to all this he organizes a yearly workshop in his village to provide additional training for ECD facilitators. The workshop is free, with catering and accommodation, if participants pay their own travel costs. Tamba is amazing!!!
The plan was to meet Glynn, a fellow lecturer who comes from England, at the ferry terminal and make our way to Illiassa. I met Glynn in the ferry terminal but walked into the terminal to be greeted with a huge ‘Awa Colley’ because a big group of my students were also meeting up to travel to the workshop and were happy to see me. We all travelled together on the same ferry but Glynn and I and her niece who was visiting, used the internet before leaving and so had to wait for the next ferry for the transport to Illiassa to fill and leave. This meant sitting in a hot car in the hot sun for two hours before taking off. We arrived a long time after the students.
When we did arrive, however, we received the most heart-warming welcoming from the students who greeted us like long lost friends, even though it had only been two weeks since college closed. It was great to catch up and I found that chatting to the students was just like chatting to a friend, which is unusual because often it is difficult to get a conversation flowing due to the difference between the cultures.
That night we all sat in Tamba’s compound and ate a dry rice and fish dish out of shared bowls with our hands and the students grouped together and caught up and sang their ECD songs in beautiful voices. They also started dancing and decided that a certain ECD lecturer needed to learn the Gambian way of dancing. It was a great night.
That night it turned out that I was staying in the village chief’s house. It also turned out that the village chief was a friend of Ejay’s father (Ejay is my neighbor) and is Ejay’s namesake. A small world! It was a hot night as there was no power and the room was stifling but it was an experience none the less.
The next day I was first to kick off the workshop with a session on teaching approaches, which I have been told was well received. Mostly I just loved the rapport the students had - it was similar again to the last day of ECD. I then had to quickly leave to make it in time to meet Sherryn from the plane. This meant going and sitting by the road and waiting for a car going back to Kombo.
I was lucky I didn’t have to wait long, but the gelli I got on was going to a compound where the people were all travelling to a naming ceremony. This was unusual because the gelli drove down to a compound and then parked and waited for the family to eat lunch, say prayers and load the gelli. So I sat on a log with the children and watched as a goat and sheep were tied to the roof of the gelli and bags of rice were loaded on top.
The people of the area I was in however must not have seen many white people and they were keen to have a conversation with me, despite my limited Mandinka. A lady came along and sat down and tried to chat to me, and then decided to be my voice and told everyone what she thought I should be saying. The result was the whole family standing round and staring down at me – not a really comfortable situation.
Eventually the gelli left and I had a great trip with the family who were really keen on trying to understand my every action – which involved regularly trying to chat to me in a language I didn’t understand. A really beautiful experience because they really were so kind. I was at least able to play with the babies which made for a fun ride.
Once at the ferry I said farewell to the family and by chance met up with some Agriculture volunteers, one being a VSO that I knew. The group was mostly from Canada and over to share farming experiences with the villagers. The ferry ride was most interesting however because right at the very end it crashed. I was sitting near a window and watching the ferry pull up to a dock because we had arrived at the same time as another ferry was unloading. I noticed the dock getting close and didn’t think anything of it until I saw the Gambians frantically moving their children away from the window. Luckily, I moved too and about the same time there was a big bang and the window smashed. It really wasn’t too bad and the ferry was still ok. It did give me a fright thought.
Where does you rubbish go?
Well now I know. Last week I was busy preparing for a workshop and I left bags of my teaching aids on my doorstep. My over eager security man however mistook the bags for rubbish and took them away to dispose of them. An hour later we realized what had happened and Mr Touray had to take me on a rubbish tour of Brikama to find them (the security guards mobile was off).
It turns out that sometimes my rubbish gets dumped in a big hole beside the road, and sometimes it get scattered along a path in a forest. Not exactly what the environmentally friendly side of me wanted to know. To clarify there is no rubbish disposal system in the Gambia so one Saturday a month everything is burned on a day called set settal where all the businesses close in order to dedicate time to cleaning up.
After an hour of following my security guards likely ride home we discovered my teaching aids, scattered in the rain, along a track in the forest. Wet and useless. However I did get the toy frog and brand new bottle of honey back in reasonable condition!!!!
It turns out that sometimes my rubbish gets dumped in a big hole beside the road, and sometimes it get scattered along a path in a forest. Not exactly what the environmentally friendly side of me wanted to know. To clarify there is no rubbish disposal system in the Gambia so one Saturday a month everything is burned on a day called set settal where all the businesses close in order to dedicate time to cleaning up.
After an hour of following my security guards likely ride home we discovered my teaching aids, scattered in the rain, along a track in the forest. Wet and useless. However I did get the toy frog and brand new bottle of honey back in reasonable condition!!!!
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