The day began (almost) like any other. 7:30 AM: wake up to Rhythm crying and scratching at the kitchen door to be let out. Go let her out, make breakfast, and - in a progressively delirious state of mind (on account of pulling a long string of nights in which I return home by 1:30 or 2:00 in the morning, so I’ve been getting about five hours of sleep a night for almost a week), decide how the day should unfold.
Read More… (923 words)

Hey all -

I was going to try to make this a quick post, but it turned out that I had more to say than I thought I would. So it’s not quick, and rather lengthy. Hope you don’t mind.

So yeah, lots of folks are down in the Kombo area now, as it’s Christmas time as, frankly, in a country that’s 95% Muslim, there’s not a very strong Christmas feeling about the place… that, and the lack of snow, reindeer, ugly lawn ornaments - or lawns, for that matter, upon which to affix said ornaments - and men dressed in Santa outfits standing outside the local bitik ringing a bell while soliciting money for the Salvation Army (see, people ask you for money often enough without the pretense of being Santa Claus on a regular basis, so wearing the jolly-old-saint-Nick outfit is a little unnecessary … although, come to think of it, if someone here approached me dressed as Santa, I would probably give them a few dalasis for their ingenuity).
Read More… (795 words)

Last week, I went out and bought a bunch of supplies to build Rhythm a little crate, or cage if you prefer, because she’s getting big and able enough to wreak quite a bit of havoc if left to her own devices. So I bought a bunch of tools - a drill, hammer, saw, a bunch of nails, tape measure, metal caging material, screws, bolts, and all kinds of other stuff with which to build something like a dog crate. Everything except the wood for the frame - the store I went to didn’t sell wood (I’m thinking 2×2 inch dimensions), and the place that did apparently was trying to toubab me with an unusually high price. I’ll probably go this week sometime with Mustafa, the Peace Corps guy who repairs PCV houses, to see where he buys his materials.
Read More… (608 words)

Dear Susan (and all the students of your eighth-grade homeroom!) -

I’m sorry it’s taken so long to write back, but things have been kind of crazy here. Lots of volunteers were recently in town over Thanksgiving, and as a result the limited computer facilities at the PC office were inundated by my upcountry counterparts who, unlike the technologically privileged few of us in Kombo, normally have no internet access.

In any case, I’m replying now, and I hope this correspondence finds you all in good health.

So, without further ado, let’s get to your questions, shall we?
Read More… (2159 words)

There are some things that have recently been sources of frustration in my new life out here in The Gambia. For the first few months at site, things were going well - but in retrospect, I think the causes of stress were there, but they just hadn’t built up to the point where things snapped. Well, things didn’t so much snap, but rather that things that at one point were left to simmer below the surface have now come above the surface so that I’m really very aware of the problems, and it’s driving me a little bit nuts.
Read More… (780 words)