I see in the Gambia….

In a girl balancing a large bowl full of water on her head which both of us struggled to lift from the ground

In a women wearing the completos of vibrant colors idly sitting around the dance field in a kuliyo (naming ceremony)

In the ecstatic eyes of dancing women in the clouds of dust

In Brikama car park where young boys scream the destinations trying to get the travelers into the gelli gelli so they can get a small pay

In the gelli gelli and taxi which look like they are making a trip to the scrape yard before the last breath

In women fetching water in their gardens in the heat of the day so they can have some money to feed their families

In the labyrinth of family lineage – mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins and a number of other family members – that makes the head spin

In the mud huts with the grass roofs which are well suited for the unbearable heat but probably not for the violent rain

In the men gathered in the bantaba to spend a lazy day and share ataaya while their women are banding their backs at home

In the eyes of children screaming toubaab with curiosity, anger or fear hoping for minti, money, gifts or attention

In the hands being dipped into the food bowl filled with rice and durango sauce that are quicky filling the stomachs

In a young guy calling me “boss lady” hoping that the greeting will impress me   

In an intense greetings that are directed to every person one meets personally

In the prayer calls five times a day with the first starting before the sunrise

In my co-workers patiently waiting for the electricity to come back on in the middle of the work day

After six months here it all feels so familiar and close but at the same time so foreign and distant...