What made me smile today…(April 23)

I went to see the headmaster of my village school this morning to see if the water system, we installed, is functioning well. I visit the school every few weeks or so. As I started chatting with headmaster, Mr. Cham, in his office he suddenly started pointing to the wall-board full of papers saying something… All I was able to catch was: ”water”, “we did it”, “do you see”, “wrote”, “rules”, ”see there”. I was looking at him confused… Then he started hastily going through the papers on his desk…”I have it here”… “There”. He gave me the piece of paper with the printed rules for using the water system. I was awestruck!… We have been talking about them since the installation of the pump (in December) and it has always been “not yet”, “we are busy”, “it is hard to get senior teachers together”, “bla, bla, bla” or asking me to write rules for them which I refused... I finally accepted that it will not happen. Oh, well. Not the first time. But there they were not hand written but printed and shared with the teachers. Small steps… small things, small surprises that brings me joy.:)

Have a restful weekend!

Today Kucha (Sorel) sauce with rice for lunch

This is not my favorite meal but I don’t have much say in what is prepared for the lunch/dinner daily. Unless I constantly remind my family how much I like Benachin (fried rice), it will be eventually prepared. My host dad usually decides the meal of the day. Usually I do not get inspiration to cook for myself and I don’t, but when I am at home during the day I like to prepare lunch together with the women, chat and/or play cards. So today we cooked Kucha! First, my host mom makes a trip to market to buy the required ingredients: black pepper, chilli pepper, fermented African locust beans, tomato, tomato paste, okra, sorrel leaves, smoked fish, bitter tomato, and bouillon cubes.

In mortar pound black pepper, chilli pepper, fermented African locust beans, and tomato.

Pick kucha leaves from stems, wash them.  Pick the bones from the smoked fish which is usually Bonga, bony fish because it is cheap. Place pot with water on fire and add bitter tomato when it boils. Leave until bitter tomato softens. Then add the pounded ingredients and leave it to simmer for a bit. 

(In the mean time, my host mom was starching her clothes and me preparing the snack - papaya from the garden...hehe)

 

Add tomato paste, bouillon cubes, salt, and picked smoked fish. Leave it again to simmer. Cut okra and add it to sorrel leaves in a pot with water. 

 

When it is ready take it off the fire and place another pot with water, sorrel leaves and okra. Boil leaves for a bit until they soften (and water becomes pink:) - saltibarsciu color). Take out the leaves and pound them in the mortar. 

 

 Measure rice, clean it, wash it and place it in the pot with water on the fire. 

When the rice is ready, add sorrel leaves to the sauce. Mix it. Place rice in a bowl, add sauce on the top and viola - lunch is ready! Bon appetite!     

     

Reflection

I have been quiet for quite some time. To be honest I could not think of what to write, which might sound strange to you. Or more likely I have so much to share which cannot be expressed in few paragraphs on this blog. 

Half way to the finish line it is time to ask the question again: what was the reason to join PC? Well to escape routine, monotony, save the world (as my friend, Asta, teases me) and travel. As I was departing for the service I had low expectations (or tried to), some plans and fears of what is waiting ahead. During first months in the Gambia, despite trying to adjust to new culture and people, I got enough motivation to feel that I can move mountains. My spirits were high. Ah, so naïve. All of it crashed down when faced with the realities, which translates to banging head onto the wall or taking a place of Sisyphus. Over and over again explaining to my host mom that heartburn is an acid reflex and not the worms traveling up the throat while she just stares in disbelief; or constantly repeating to them to plant different vegetables in their garden and not the ones that the entire village plants and sells for nothing. So then in my mind I travel back to Lithuania, where I try to convince my grandfather to do something different from what he has been doing all his life. It is an impossible task. I realize we all are the same – we all have developed resistance and fear of change, including me. To understand and accept that is comforting in this work. I meant to do much difference, but now what makes me happy is hearing my host mom saying English phrases, my host sister saving the money, the school in my village having water, or a stranger observing in disbelief a toubaab woman washing clothes with her hands (“oh, you know how to do it.”). 

After a year mingling in this society I believe in “teaching a man to fish and not providing him the fish itself”. The created worldwide system is so interconnected and “screwed up”. The simple equation became long unsolvable mess of equations like our lives overcrowded with technologies and other unnecessary garbage. How to solve it? – many of us ask. How can one justify stripping a man naked and then handing out the small pieces of used cloth for him to cover himself? How can one steal vegetables from neighbor’s garden and then offer back the leftovers? I do not believe in the handouts and I do not believe in aid (with few exceptions) anymore. But I believe in education and in people who work hard in order for their children to have a better life.

I cherish the newly discovered patience calmly waiting for the gelli to fill, in queue behind doctor’s door, for the contractor who is late more than two hours. Time has a different dimension here. Saying “Time is money” does not apply. People own the time and they are not slaves of time, like I was in the States. I find the joy in sitting around and doing nothing, which is different from wrapping your life in efficiency and productivity. 

Do you think you are making difference? - my friend asked. I leave to answer this question for the community. When draining in a sea of harassment, and constant disturbances, I hear “Oh you are peace corps. You are doing good work. Thank you.” I believe that we impacted someone’s life in one or the other way.   

 More than anything this last year taught me a lot about myself, to leave the safety zone, to let go the control grip and to chill. Things will get solved sooner or later. 

However, I terribly miss my dear family and friends who are scattered between two continents. I am grateful for your acceptance, patience and support. Lots of love to you all!  

Mission: ‘Waterfalls’

After experiencing enough dry sandy plains a group of us decided to venture to southeastern part of Senegal to see the waterfalls. The travel was actually longer (4 days) than the stay (3 days), but not less adventurous.
 

Waiting and doing some fukajai (secondhand) shopping at the ferry crossing over River Gambia in Janjembureh.

Getting breakfast (egg sandwiches with sugary coffee)  at Manda Duane, Senegal border village, after negotiating the price for a set plas to take us directly to Kedougou, which will be about 4-5 hr ride through Tamba Kunda.

 
Admiring sidewalks, paved and marked roads...

Passing through Parc National du Niokolo-Koba  we saw some wildlife: unidentified bird, monkeys and bush pig.

  
Finally at 4pm in the afternoon covered in dust, hungry and tired we arrived to Kedougou.

 
Kedougou PC house is an incredible place to hang out. It looks like a campment and is run by the volunteers. We camped at the house for threenights.

 
Our camping site at PC house.


The following day we (six of us) together with other six people traveled to Segou. At first when they said that there will be tree people traveling in the trunk seat, four people riding in the middle seat, two – in the front seat and two on the top of the car we laughed. It is not possible! Well… in Senegal it is possible:).
 

Getting ready…

 Just a little uncomfortable...

 
Mesmerized by the baboon gang. ..more than few hundred of them playing, chasing each other, standing, climbing the tree. 


 

Hiking to the Segou waterfall  with our guide, Dauda.

 

 

 

Crossing the stream, climbing the rocks… 

 After about few hour hike covered in sweat we reached the destination, but the water was so biting cold.

Me, Jen, Kate, Stephanie, Hilary and Dauda.

Segou beauty…

 

 Guard for cattle - structure unseen in the Gambia.

 

Second day we headed to the Dendifello village, which is about 5km from Segou village, to see Dendifelo waterfall . Due to shortage of transport in the area we decided to walk the distance but got a lift by construction truck halfway into the hike.

 

Modern meets traditional…solar street lights in Dendifelo village.

 

Hiking to Dendifelo waterfall (about 30min hike).

 

Impressive Dendifello waterfall falling from 100m (I was not able to fit it in one shot).

 

Warming up by the fire set up by the locals who came together with a  group of tourists. They also shared the leftover lunch (rice) with us. Thank you! The snacks we brought with us were 2 packs of Biskrem cookies. Haha.

 On the third day we hiked to Bedik village, Estuar, on this hill. Most of the people in Bedik villages are animists who still practice the traditional way of life.  

 

Estuar village… all the people were gone to the fields, not a single person was present in this small village. It was so strange walking through deserted village – it felt like intruders. On the way out we left some CFAs to their village sacred tree (the donation they usually ask from the tourists per Patric, PCV living in Bandassari, the nearby village). 

 

Bandassari village which is located in the valley.

Further at the horizon - Guinea.

 

We were lucky to get a transport back to Kedougou. We did not tell the driver our destination in Kedougou, but he knowingly stopped at PC Kedougou house. Who else will be speaking local language and looking for lift on the side of the road?

 Dry season – sand and dust…

 

  

Spotted a crowd of baboons in Parc National du Niokolo-Koba on the way back to Tamba Kunda.

Language was a bit of a problem, because main languages spoken there were Fula (Pular) and French. All of us, except for Stephanie who knows Fula (different dialect though), speak Mandinka and English only. Kate and myself knew few French words and phrases which was helpful to get the prices. Traveling in beat-up and overcrowded setplases definitely was an adventure. On the way back from the border to Basse we had twelve people traveling in the wagon type car, including the driver. Two were in front passenger seat, one was sitting together with the driver in driver’s seat, four in the middle seat, three in the trunk seat,  and one on the top of the car. Again, do you think it is impossible to drive a car with a passenger in your seat? Think again:)

 

Story...

So I read a very interesting (hmm) story book used in the school curriculum in the schools here (not sure which grades though). I wanted to share one of them with you.

The Little Bird that would not stop Flying

Once upon a time, there was a little bird. One day, it learned how to fly. So it said:

-I will never stop flying!

Up, it flew and flew until one of its legs fell off.

-Ahh! That will not stop me from flying! Said the little bird. So, it went on flying until the other leg fell off too.

-I will not stop flying! Said the little bird again.

And it flew and flew until one of its ears fell off. But the little bird said:

-That won’t stop me from flying!

Then it flew and flew and flew until the other ear fell off. Again, it said:

-That will never stop me from flying!

On and on it flew until one of its eyes fell off.

Once more, the little bird said:

-I don’t mind! That will not stop me from flying!

The little bird continued to fly and fly until the other eye fell off too.

Again it said:

-That will not stop me from flying.

It flew and flew and flew until its nose fell off.

Again it said:

-That will never stop me from flying!

And on and on it flew until its belly fell off. It said:

-That would not stop me from flying!

The little bird continued to fly and fly until its chest fell off. Once more, it cried out:

-That would never, never stop me from flying!

So, it went on flying, flying and flying until its back fell off. Yes, the little bird said:

-That shall never stop me from flying!

And it kept on flying and flying until its tail fell off. Again it said:

-I will not stop flying!

The little bird continued to fly and fly until one if its wings dropped off.  Once more it said:

- That shall not stop me from flying!

On and on, the little bird flew and flew and flew until the other wing dropped off also.

And as the little bird fell down, it said:

-That shall not stop me from flying!

But when its beak fell off, the little bird was no more.

Few questions following the story:

·         <…>

·         Why was the beak the last part to fall off?

·         What lesson do you learn from this story?