Eating manners and cooking

 First time I dipped my hand in the food bowl I felt like back in the childhood – throwing it all over the table, myself and others. Barely anything gets into the mouth. That is exactly how it was…food was on the floor, on my lap and all over my face and my hand, and some in my mouth. Since then I have improved my eating capability using a hand.

The meals in The Gambia are served in the communal food bowl. The bowl is usually placed on the ground or a mat and people gather around it. One MUST eat only with one’s right hand, because left is used for cleaning oneself in the bathroom. The rice or other grain like millet or sorghum (which I have not tried yet) is the main part of the meal. In the middle of the bowl filled with rice the sauce with some vegetables is placed. Family who can afford meat or fish in the bowl, add that too. One eats only from the area closest to him/her going towards the middle. The eating goes like this: small pieces of vegetable, meat or fish (if available) are parted and mixed in with rice and sauce in the bowl. Small amount of the mixture then is picked with the hand, rolled in the ball so it sticks together and placed in the mouth. The process is repeated again and again until the belly is filled. If one needs to get a food item on the other side of the bowl, he should not reach and ask for the other person to move the item closer to the middle. I was told that one should not speak while eating, but I have had different experiences with that. Also when one gets satisfied he should move away from the bowl. When I eat with my family I constantly get encouraged to eat more: “Fatou, a domo!” (Fatou, eat!). Eh, there is only so much rice I can fit in my belly.

If the family is large then few bowls of food can be served: one for men, one for women and children (or children can have their own one too).

If you pass by the people who are enjoying their meal, they always, by tradition, invite you to eat with them. It does not matter if they do not have enough food – they always share it with you.

My family usually makes domada (peanut sauce with meat), durango (tomato based sauce with vegetables and fish usually), kucca (mashed sorrel leaves with bonny fish), benachin (fried rice), and rice porridge. The lunch is considered a meal of the day, which we eat at 2-3pm. Dinner is usually the same as lunch served close to 9pm. On rare occasions my host moms make rice porridge for dinner, which I really like. So rice, rice and more rice!

On several occasions I helped my host mom to cook benachin for lunch. It is a quite lengthy process and takes several hours to prepare (as every meal). First – trip to the market to purchase the ingredients. The beans are soaked and cooked separately before anything else. Then if the fish is served it is cleaned and washed. The black pepper is pounded (hmm… in pounder (?)) together with the hot peppers, onions, tomato and tomato paste. Then another pot is placed on the fire (they cook meals on open fire) with oil in which the fish is fried. After frying is completed the pounded ingredients are added to the oil and cooked for a bit. Then the water is added. The sauce again is simmered for a short while. Then vegetables such as bitter tomato, cassava and cabbage (never chopped) are added. In the meantime the rice is cleaned and washed. When vegetables are fully cooked, they are removed from the sauce and rice placed in the pot. It is also a time for bouillon (Jumbo) and salt. When the rice is cooked beans are mixed in together. Benachin is placed in a bowl, cooked vegetables and fish are placed on the top of it. Viola – meal is ready!

Transportation Experience and Naming Ceremony (March 30th)

Few days ago I nearly jumped when my host mom, Sima, announced that she is going to naming ceremony (kullyio) and that I am welcomed to come there too! The naming ceremony was for her sister’s husband’s newborn in another village, Batukunku, not too far from our village. The naming ceremony usually is performed 6-7 days after the birth (when possible). In Christianity it can be compared to christening. The baby girl was named Fatumata (first girl in the family). First boy in the family is usually named Mohamed/Lamin although it is not always the case.

After the lunch I rushed to put my only African outfit (completoo) that I got made for the swear-in. I was going there with my other host mom, Juju, because Sima went there a day before to help with preparation. Juju was wearing bright red completoo decorated with gold embroidery which suited her perfectly.

The place was not too far but to get there we had to switch three gelli gellis. First one got us to Brikama garage where we boarded a second one. Even though I already got used to the transportation conditions here, this vehicle amazed me. None on the interior details seemed original except for the vehicle body. It looked like it was assembled of different scrap pieces and so beat up that I would never think that it can possibly run, but it did! We waited some time for the car to fill with passengers. They usually do not depart half empty. The vehicle was approached by dozens of sellers who were selling water, doughnuts, ‘ices’ (frozen juice), bananas, peanuts, creams, towels, rugs, curtains and other things. I could do all the shopping while waiting in the car.

Time to go! The driver sat into his seat, put key in, turned it and all we heard was burh burh burh… The car did not start. I sat behind the driver and noticed that the battery light was on – minor problem. The driver tried again and again – nothing. The passengers started murmuring quietly and looking around wishing for the vehicle just to work. Next the driver shouted then talked with a guy outside and we felt the push at back of the car. Burh, burh, burh and gelli gelli started. Valio! We slowly exited the garage (car park). Few times on the way it felt that vehicle would shut down. In addition, the driver had difficulty with shifting (the gear box seem to have problem as well). As we approach the stop points I notice that the he is very careful stopping (slowly, slowly). Hmmm..breaks are weak?? Anyway, I relaxed in the thought that the next village is not that far away and were are not going on the highway so whatever happened it would be fine. Well, before hitting the road we stopped at the gas station. Slowly, slowly rolled in and stopped perfectly next to the pump. With engine running we got some gas put in the vehicle. The gas tank of the car was under me and I was praying for the car not to blow up. This was a third vehicle that I had been onto and which stopped to put some gas in fully loaded with passengers – none of them turned the engines off during the gas transfer. Hmm… in USA it is considered dangerous and might cause an explosion but not in the Gambia. We slowly but surely reached the second town - Sanyang. Our next gelli gelli was ready to depart and had only few seats left – for us! The vehicle was not different from the previous one. In addition, this one had the exhaust fumes going from under the car to all the sides. I kept telling myself to trust the people who operated the vehicle - they know it better than I do.

We reach the naming ceremony safely and in one piece. The compound yard and house were filled with people – mostly women and children. Women were wearing their best clothes (completoos) of vibrant colors and large pieces of jewelry. The colors were bright, intense and looked so beautiful on them (with their dark skin). We greeted Sima’s family members and were offered a meal (rice with fish and vegetables).  Three of us shared the bowl in the entrance room that was constantly passed by people who stopped and greeted us. Quickly we stuffed our stomachs, chatted with few women (I just listened) and moved outside where I got to hold a sleeping beauty responsible for the celebration. Outside the compound the men with drums were inviting for the dance. The crowd of children and women (men do not usually dance together with women) gathered in the circle around them. In a few minutes the singing started followed by hand clapping and dance. There is so much energy and joyfulness during this part of the celebration. Women by one, two, and more dance in the middle of the circle… Sometimes during the dance women handed small bills of dalasi to the family (a tradition). The dancing lasts only few minutes - next dancer replaced the previous one and so on. Lots of drumming, laughing and clapping. The dancing was interrupted several times by gift money calculation and the naming of the gifts, the newborn received. I understood that the dance, in addition, is geared towards collecting the money and wishing all the best for the newborn. Some traditions and meaning of gesture I was not able to clarify with my family because of my poor language skills but as soon as I find out I will put it on my blog. The dancing ended together with the sunset and we rushed home while the gelli gelli are still in operation. About an hour later I was continuing the evening together with my family on their porch.

My day and visit to the first processing plant (March 28th)

I thought to share today’s schedule. My morning began with a short meditation and a cup of coffee. I have bought this Brazilian coffee with cardamom (label indicated Lebanese style coffee) which is pretty good I have to say. I have not find a place yet where I can get a good quality coffee here so care package with a tasty coffee is always welcomed. Afterward when looking for the wheelbarrow I run into my family preparing breakfast. So chat and a second breakfast together with my family followed. Then my host dad left for Tanji to get the fish for the week and my host mom, Sima, was getting ready the little one, Asi, for the nursery school. After the morning preparations were finished I was able to sneak with the wheelbarrow and continue working on the garden – to prepare the third, last, garden bed and to prepare the tree nursery soil and bed. Shortly after my host mom, Sima, was going to the market to buy ingredients for the lunch. Of course I joined her. The market was filled with women chatting, bargaining, laughing, shouting - truly harmonious chaos. It is a local market and the main goods sold there are food items for cooking lunch: vegetables, oil, fish (raw, dried and smoked), peppers, salt and few other not food related items. As I was passing the tables some women shouted disappointingly that I do not come greet them, so I spent part of the time meeting women and greeting them. We got some fish, bitter tomato, tomato paste, fresh tomato, dried fish, smoked fish and oil for the lunch meal. After we got back home I finished the bed and the nursery and got ready to go see the first Gambian processing plant.

I met this amazing hardworking women, Binta, yesterday when she was visiting my host mom, Juju. She has a successful garden of her own which I look forward to visit in the near future and also she is leading the effort of the processing plant. I learned that by accident trying to explain to my host mom, Sima, in Mandinka that I want to build a solar drier. My language skills are not that suitable for such complicated conversation so my speech sounded more like newly invented language. Binta came to help to translate (she knows English) and told me about the plant and different solar driers they use for the food processing. I was intrigued… The first processing plant in the Gambia and is run and owned by the women in the community. She invited me to visit and I with pleasure visited the place today. The plant did not operate for the last two years because they did not have support and market. But now they are trying to start it over again. At the moment 25 women work there: 5 each of the workday. The products they prepare at the moment are: vinegar and Pepper sauce (very hot!). When the mango season comes (in a month or so) they have equipment to prepare mango juice and mango jam. The other foods that can be processed in the plant are Ketchup and pineapple jam. Two largest problems that they face are water availability and marketing. They do have one tap onsite that is used for the garden. However, the electricity for operating the pump is very expensive for them to be able to support the plant operations. So they are planning to have the water piped from the water supply, for which time line is not known. In regards to the market, they need vehicle and a person with a marketing experience to help them market the products. Their plan is to visit the villages upcountry and market/sample/sell their products there.

I really want to help them and see them succeeding. So if you come across the grant or funding that support the women efforts in business in the developing countries, please, let me know. I was really amazed by her dedication and eagerness to work hard to make this processing plant successful. It will create the job opportunities for the women, serve as an example to encourage similar projects and help the country to be more self-reliant.

I spent the afternoon making the shelves for my books. Then the evening came and together the time for watering the garden. Before the sun went down I was also able to plant some cotton trees and squash.

Dinner is no later or earlier than nine o’clock, as usual. Rice porridge for the dinner – my favorite!

The Garden – II (March 27th)

The goal for today, Sunday, was to prepare the beds in my new garden plot for the planting which was accomplished with lots of help from my family! In the morning I heard someone hoeing in my garden plot. My host sister, Sona, was making that noise! I collected my tools and ran to join her but my host mom, Sima, took a hoe from my hands and started helping her. I was left with shovel, which was not useful at all – a shovel just kept bouncing back of the dried up soil (even after watering). Anyway, I just stared at the women ‘sprinting’ through the garden. Then suddenly my host sister, Sarata, stated making the beds. Her work was interrupted by the heated group discussion on the width of the beds. In the middle of it my host father, Kebba, who is knowledgeable in farming and gardening just took a shovel and re-constructed the beds. The beds were about 1 meter in width, which did make sense to me. When the time came for the chicken poop and compost/fertilizer my host  brother, Sana, was assigned for the job. So most of the time I was just watching/supervising…

Even though I was looking to making a garden myself, I appreciated all the help and enjoy working together with my host family on it. I tried very hard to let it go and enjoy the discussion on the width of the beds, which at the end was decided by my host dad (you wonder why?). I trusted their knowledge.

Now daily watering for about 5 days and the beds will be ready for the planting. I also hope to start the tree nursery this week, planting Grapefruit, Mandarin, Moringa and Jujube. I think all that will be more than enough to keep me busy.     

The Garden - I (March 23rd)

Few days ago I started the garden, or to be more precise, a nursery bed. It is located in my small back yard, near the bathroom area. My family has the garden in the back of the house where they grow vegetables and have some fruit trees (bananas, papaya and mango). There was still a small plot available for gardening behind my bathing area, which was kindly given to me upon the request. It was covered with leaves, trash and other things so the first step was to removal of unnecessary matter was completed today.

There is no such thing as a garbage can in the Gambian homes and streets. Although, there are some exceptions – few areas to my knowledge are: a tourist area and my work place. People throw garbage anywhere – on the floor in the house, yard, garden, and street. They do of course sweep their homes and yards and dump the garbage behind the fence. So the piece of garbage changes few ‘homes’ but does not travel too far from its initial point.  Garbage is a huge problem here. Part of it is culture (my guess) and part of it is lack of the waste management system. There is no centralized garbage collection system in place except for the Kombo area. Collected Kombo garbage is transported to the dump site in the middle of the city, which is another issue. Children and adults visit this dump site daily to collect scraps and other things. When we visited this site it was hearbreaking to see that. The garbage is constantly smoking. Afterwards I passed by the dump site (landfill) several times with gelli gelli and I had to cover my nose because I could not bare the smoke smell. People who residing next to it (including SOS Children Home) are breathing it everyday… Add another problem to the endless list of problems. I understand that such this picture is not unique only to the Gambia - in Lithuania there are people who also spend their days in landfills collecting the scraps to generate income. However, that was the first one I got to know personally. 

The garden… Even thought it has been a dry season for more than a few months now, I did not expect the ground to be as hard as a rock. The hoe was bouncing back of the ground like a spring with minimal impact. Although watering loosened the soil I still had to put in some sweat a bit until I finish the first and only nursery bed. Then I watered the bed for several days, before planting anything. My family has a big gang of chicks that generates a reasonable amount of this fertilizer but I was not familiar with using chicken dung for the garden so was hesitant to try it. I only added some Neem tree leaves (organic pesticide) to the soil to repel the uninvited guests (insects and etc.). A day before yesterday was the big day! I planted lettuce, tomatoes, carrots and eggplant. Yesterday I did another small plot along the fence in my back area for the pigeon pea. After consulting with the expert (another volunteer working a lot with poultry projects) I mixed with the soil some chicken dung, some compost I was able to locate and Neem tree leaves. I let it sit for a day and planted the peas. These plants are perennial and more like trees. They are also called NFP (nitrogen fixing plant) and are some sort of hybrid between the green peas and beans.

I hope that in the next two weeks I am (or ‘we are’, with the help of the women in my family) able to prepare the soil for sowing some other vegetables and replanting the ones from the nursery bed; and starting a tree nursery.