Because I know you all love pictures

Local newspaper (sorry, I can't get the pic to rotate)


Zoomed in...we're famous!


I painted our doorframes yellow/orange yesterday to add some color to our house :-)


Close up


Back door


The other night we cooked an AWESOME mediterranean dinner with Lisa, our sitemate a village over who conveniently loves food as much as we do! Hummus, falafel balls (hard to see, but they're there), breaded/fried eggplant, sauteed onions, fresh tomato and cucumber, fresh bread, and a key lime pie, complete with graham-cracker crust (not with the theme, but so amazingly delicious).


Team awesome dinner

My inner feminist flexes her muscles (written January 27)

I just had a very unsettling conversation with a relatively progressive (or so I thought) Gambian male I will not identify here, and I really feel the need to share the experience. He has been helping us fix a problem with our stove and he asked what I was going to cook for Jacob once it was fixed. I responded that we always cook together, and we will cook many things, both Gambian and American. He proceeded to spend the next 30 minutes or so lecturing us on how a man should NEVER do things like cooking or laundry or sweeping (unless there is no woman around to do it).

We tried everything we could think of to gently tell him that in America men and women share household work because that is the fair thing to do, that we are here to learn Gambian culture but not to give up parts of American culture that are important to us, that we do everything possible to act Gambian when we are out in the community but our home is our private space where we do what we want, etc etc. He refused to back down and kept asking me to promise that I would do all the cooking (I would be allowed to let Jacob help if he wanted, but only occasionally and I should not rest while he is helping). After simply refusing wasn't working, I repeatedly said "we'll see" and "maybe," but he wouldn't take that either and kept pushing. At one point Jacob stepped in and tried to defend/support me and was reprimanded and told not to. When a woman gets married, this man said, she understands her role will be to do household work. He said that even if that is not the way things are done in America, we are in the Gambia, we are here to learn the culture, and if we want to learn the culture, it is important that we start following Gambian gender roles, even in our home. I asked him what he thinks Jacob should be doing while I'm cooking, whether he should just be resting and brewing attaya, and he said yes. I responded by asking him how he would feel if he had been born a woman and had to do all that work while his husband sat and relaxed. He simply responded that he is sympathetic to all the work women do, but not enough to help them. The concept of putting oneself in another's shoes (or bitik flip flops) does not seem to exist here. Rather ironic since it is essentially the title of this blog, hm?

Needless to say, this was an extremely distressing encounter for me. This man was coming in and telling us how we should run our household. Demanding, in fact, that we promise to run it the way he thinks we should. And on top of that, he was claiming that we weren't really trying to learn Gambian culture if we didn't do so! What right does he have to do that?? It would be one thing if he was complaining about our interactions with the community...but this was criticizing our private lives...not ok in my book. However, this is coming from an older man in a position of power (who has helped us a lot already on top of it), so we very clearly needed to be respectful. Also, Peace Corps is very clear that the second goal of our service is to share American culture with Gambians, and this was a golden opportunity to do that. So bite your tongue, be respectful, and teach this man about American culture while he is telling me in no uncertain terms I should be doing all the cooking, laundry, cleaning, etc, while my husband lounges around and sips tea. Riiight. All things considered, I think I did pretty well (Jacob only had to give me warning glances a couple times), but controlling myself was one of the more difficult things I've had to do in a while. I'll be culturally sensitive until I'm blue in the face out in the community, but do NOT come into my house and tell me that if I want to learn Gambian culture I have to work myself to the bone while my husband sits around doing nothing. Arg. I'm sure this is only the first of many such encounters to come, so my hope and dream (as far-fetched as it may be) is that if this conversation occurs again two years from now, it will go quite a bit differently...

Rice Harvest Part 2 (written January 25)

After my post about going to the rice fields, I got a request for more information on rice farming in The Gambia, so here goes:

The three steps of growing rice are sowing the seeds in nursery fields, transplanting the shoots to give them space to grow, and harvesting the rice. There are three local/river rice harvests each year. In some areas of the country they also have highland/upland nerika (sp?) rice (Gambians call it "American rice"), which doesn't need to be grown in marshy areas (which are often far from villages and difficult to work in), is more resistant to drought, and is significantly more productive than the local rice. However, Gambians say the nerika rice is not as "sweet" (see Jacob's note about sugar in his last post). Peace Corps tells us that Gambians are very reluctant to try growing narika rice because rice comprises such a large portion of their diet...if the rice fails, they quite literally would go hungry...the stakes are very high. The is something the Agriculture/Forestry volunteers are working on. Increasing Gambian rice production is particularly important because even though there are three harvests, farmers rarely produce enough to last them between harvests, so every few months they have to buy bags of rice imported from Asia, as do the people who do not live near enough to the river to farm rice.

After the rice is harvested and transported back to the village, it has to be pounded with a mortar and pestle three times: once to remove the rice from the stalks; once to remove each grain of rice from its shell; and once to break the actual grains of rice into the "broken" rice that Gambians in our village eat almost every meal. NOTE - We're not exactly sure why Gambians like their rice broken, but our two hypotheses are that it makes it cook faster and/or it balls better (they don't use utensils, they make balls of rice and sauce in their hand and pop the balls in their mouths). If the rice was completely "ripe" when it was harvested, it can be pounded right away, even the same day it is cut. If it was still a bit green when it was cut, it needs to be dried for a few days in the sun before pounding. Some villages have rice milling machines that eliminate the need for hand pounding, but it seems most of them have fallen into disrepair, possibly because of the minimal value placed on an individual's time/effort Jacob mentioned in his last post.

Cooking the broken rice consists of the following steps: (1) Pick small rocks and debris out of the rice; (2) Wash the rice thoroughly; (3) Steam the rice for a while, using a pot of water boiled over a wood fire with colonder-like bowl on top and a strip of cloth tied around the pot where it meets the colonder to keep the steam from escaping; (4) Dump the rice into the boiling water and cook it the way we are used to; and (5) Before all the water is boiled off, remove the rice from the water with a large strainer spoon. Most Gambian dishes are a large communal bowl of rice with some kind of sauce poured in the center. The main types of sauces are relatively bland but delicious leaf sauce (plasas), spicy peanut sauce (domoda or durango) and a tangy red/brown sauce made from onions, peppers, tomato paste, vinegar, etc. The leaf and peanut sauces generally have ground/pounded fish mixed in; the red/brown sauce is generally served with fried (generally dried but occasionally fresh) fish or chicken (only if you're really lucky) and sometimes a small chunk of a commonly grown local vegetable (cassava, potato, sweet potato, eggplant, bitter tomato, cabbage, once in a blue moon a carrot). The exceptions to the rice/sauce rule are breakfast, which is generally porridge (porridge can be made from many grains but is generally made from rice in our village) and a couple kinds of very tasty kinds of fried rice that are served with everything pre-mixed.

I hope that answers all your questions about rice...keep the questions coming if there's anything you're curious about!

MODIFICATION FEB 7 - It has come to my attention that I left out a step that you must include when cooking Gambian rice (but not for the imported kind). After step 5 above, you add more water and remove it again a couple times to rinse the rice...it does something to the texture/stickiness I believe. Also, with the Gambian rice, you cook it in the pot until all the water is gone, instead of removing it from the water with the strainer spoon.

Cultural Differences Part 1 (Written on January 22)

Since arriving in The Gambia Sarah and I have noticed some cultural differences between the USA and The Gambia. What follows is a short list of some of these differences - this items are listed in no particular order and by no means is this a complete list. I plan on adding more in subsequent posts as I discover them...

- Sugar - Gambians have a serious sweet tooth. First, of all you have to consider Attaya, which may as well be the national drink. Attaya is green tea with sugar and occasionally mint. When I say sugar I mean a lot of sugar - like a one:one ratio of tea to sugar. One result of this is that anything that is good is also sweet. A good dinner is sweet, saying good night is the same as saying have a sweet night, a village can be sweet or not sweet, etc.

- Toubab/Mofingo - As a white person you will be "toubabed." People young and old (though mainly young) will yell "toubab!" at you whenever they see you, which is essentially them yelling "hey whitey." This is not considered rude nor inappropriate. Nor is it considered rude for me to yell back "mofingo," which is me yelling "hey black person."

- Violence - Corporal punishment is common and accepted. If a baby is crying people will say "shut up or I will beat you." Yesterday, we saw a roughly 6 ft tall teenager hit a 10 year old girl with a stick and kicked her when she was on the ground and no one stepped in to stop it. The same extends to animals. Also, I never knew that you could pick up a young kid by the armpit until I came here. In general, life here is a bit rougher than we were used to at home.

- Work - There is no cultural imperative to help out if you see someone else working. Your sister might be pounding rice for tonights dinner and there is no pressure to step up and help. It is completely appropriate for me to sit and watch and read or brew attaya or nap. I can watch a group of women do laundry all day and no one will think less of me if I don't step in to help. Also, there seems to be an odd gap (maybe age 17-25) where you don't have to work. Most of the time when I see someone in this age group he/she is brewing attaya or braiding someones hair.

- Time - There is no value placed on time. We hired a carpenter to build a solar dryer for us. He charged us for the materials and then asked for whatever we felt was right for his time. Whereas at home, the cost of labor would have been the most expensive part. Additionally, a significant amount of time is spent pounding rice or other food items to turn them into something edible. This is not only time consuming but very difficult. However, it is free. If I could magically produce a rice milling machine for free and charge people less than $1 each time they wanted to use it, I don't know how many people would use it. Who would pay to use the mill when pounding is free? The value of time is never accounted for.

- Greetings - It is essential (and you will be yelled at if you don't) to greet everyone you see. The questions and responses in this process are formulaic and only vary by time of day. (Hope there is no trouble - There is no trouble; Hope you are at peace - Peace only; How are the home people - they are there only; etc).

- Questions - People like to ask questions. By that, I mean it is normal for someone to ask where are you going; where are you coming from; what is your fathers/mothers name; what is my name; etc. They also like to state the obvious...such as walking up to you when you are sitting writing and saying "you are sitting" and/or "you are writing." This is not just making small talk with the toubabs who have limited language skills - they do it to each other too.

- Laughing - It is not rude to laugh at someone based on their actions. We get laughed at a lot for attempting to speak Mandinka, as well as any other local daily activity we attempt (e.g., pounding, cooking, doing laundry).

- Sitting - Some of the time I like to stand. It is more comfortable than sitting in some positions. This, however, makes people very uncomfortable. People will consistently ask me to sit until I oblige. Apparently standing like that makes me look like a soldier...

This is just a short list of observations, which is by no means comprehensive, but I figure a short list is better than none...enjoy!

Rice Harvest (written January 19)

Today we went with one of our local counterparts, Amie, to the rice fields. This time of year, most of the women in the village go to the rice fields every day to harvest their rice. Due to the donor visits, Amie was unable to go several days last week, and she got a bit behind...so she was very glad to have two extra pairs of hands, albeit inexperienced ones. We left the village at 10am, walked an hour to the fields, worked until 5pm when the tide started coming in, then walked an hour back. It was a long hard day, but it was also very productive. Amie was hugely appreciative of the help (and surprised how much rice we cut!) and we gained a huge amount of respect from our community. As I mentioned before, rice fields are very beautiful and peaceful, so I actually found the repetetive work quite therapeutic. Here are a few pictures:


Rice almost as far as the eye can see


Amie and me working


Ami carrying a finished boulo of rice - Gambians carry anything and EVERYTHING on their heads!


Lunch break


Action shot



Jacob's action shot


Amie's action shot


Me and Amie


Tide coming in


Me with a completed boulo of rice


Four of our ten completed boulos


Amie magically made our boulos into this hairy creature and covered it with a cloth...a donkey cart will come retrieve the rice later.

Reflections on being a "toubab" in Africa (written January 18)

I referenced in my last post that two different foreign donors visited our village in the past week. The Gambia has a long history of "toubabs" (white people) coming to the country and handing out everything from money to candy to school supplies to medicine. Sometimes the people doing this are well-meaning philanthropists and sometimes they are tourists here on vacation (and sometimes some of both). Unfortunately for us, in addition to perpetuating probably the least sustainable and effective form of "development," this has created a very strong expectation in the local people (especially the children) that every white person they see has a lot of money and can be convinced to give them hand-outs if they are persuasive enough. Not surprisingly, volunteers working here really struggle with this mentality. This is really the first major experience we have had with people making completely wrong assumptions about us based on our physical appearance, and while frustrating, it does provide a valuable window into the experience of minorities in many places around the world.

Pictures of our house

Our compound


Our house


Front room, standing in the front doorway and looking straight in and to the right


Front room again, looking straight in and to the left


Close up of the batik we got at the craft market in Bakau


Front room again, looking all the way to the left


Front room again, looking all the way to the right


Back room


Our backyard

Pictures from the last couple weeks

Beautiful ocean view at a restaurant in Kombo


And again


Aren't we cute?


Pretty flowers in Kombo


Sarah and Casey enjoying one last afternoon at the beach in Kombo


All loaded up and ready to head off to site (in case you're wondering, yes, fitting under the power lines was a challenge...)


Village ambulance, donated by a Welsh donor


New building at the skill center


People watching the dedication ceremony


Our good friend Fatou dancing at the celebration


I got my hair braided again, this time with red extensions


And again

Cooking in The Gambia (written January 17)

We've been at site for almost a week now and so much has happened that it's difficult to choose what to write about. Over the past week, we've met (and greeted ad nauseum, of course)* countless people, some of them countless times, unpacked and decorated our house, which included three trips to the tailor to get curtains made correctly, but in the end accomplished the goal of not being able to see people walking by while getting dressed, attended two lengthy dedication ceremonies in the same day, fled from multiple konkerons**, met two different groups of foreign donors, attended a football (soccer) match that ended in police threatening to use tear gas on the crowd, rode our bikes to a nearby village and had dinner with other volunteers in the area, rode our bikes to our training village, visited with friends, and were wisked away to an impromptu late-night meeting about water access and small enterprise upon our return, and helped cook several Gambian dishes. Cooking is completely different here, so despite the fact that we consider ourselves relatively good cooks at home, we are having to start over from scratch here. It is fun, but also a bit daunting!

To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here is a step-by-step description of cooking a traditional Gambian dish called "ebey," which we helped with yesterday:

-Evening before - Decided to cook ebey the following day and agreed to meet in the morning to cook it.
-9:45am - Arrived at our friend's compound, found she had already got cassava from somewhere and was finishing cutting it into pieces and putting it to soak in a bucket of water
-10:30am - Departed for Soma to buy the rest of the ingredients for the dish (two kinds of dried fish, two kinds of tamarind, hot peppers, palm oil, jumbo cubes (boullion with MSG and Vitamin A added))
-10:45am - Arrived in Soma in record time after hitching a ride with a man from our village with a car who was going that direction.
-11:45pm - Departed Soma with the aforementioned ingredients, plus a few other items Jacob and I wanted - vegetable oil, bananas, "donkey soap" (laundry soap), and a gallon tub of groundnut (peanut) butter (we got the tub filled for $7-8!). Despite our protests, our friend insisted on having her brother carry the heavy tub of groundnut butter back for us.
-12:45pm - Arrived back at our friend's compund after walking the whole way back and started peeling the tough skin off the cassava (peeling the chunks in our hands and cutting inward because everyone insists any other way is too dangerous - unfortunately cassava skin is too thick for our vegetable peeler to be effective).
-1:15pm - Finished peeling the cassava and ate lunch #1 while we waited for the "kitchen" (small room with a wood cookfire) to be available. Give the cassava peels to the goats. Put tamarind in a bowl of water to soak.
-1:45pm - Got wood from a room in the back of the compound, put the cassava on to boil, and pounded the peppers with a wooden mortar and pestle (you have to be careful not to pound to vigorously or you will splash hot peppers juices up in your eyes). Removed fish from the bones/skin/innards and tore into small pieces. Gave the scraps to the dog and chickens.
-2:15pm - Ate lunch #2
-2:45pm - Removed the cassava from the boiling water, pounded it in the mortar and pestle (along with the pounded peppers that were still in it), returned it to the pot to cook for another 10 minutes or so, and repeated three times.
-3:30pm - Mashed tamarind in the bowl with fingers, added jumbo cubes, then added the mixture to the cassava pot, along with the fish. Cooked for a few minutes, then added vinegar, palm oil and salt to taste. Took a bowlful out of the pot and floated it in a bucket of water to cool it slowly.
-4:00pm - Finally eat the ebey (chewing carefully and spitting out tough cassava fibers, tamarind seeds, and fish bones on the ground as we eat). Chickens descend on our rejected items.

*I'm not sure if I mentioned this before, but greeting is a very important part of Gambian culture. Whenever you see someone, even if you just saw them a few minutes ago, you are expected to run through a formulaic set of questions about the wellbeing of the person, their family, their compound, their work, etc, tailored for the time of day, and the person is expected to give predetermined answers to them. Think of a very long drawn-out version of "What's up? Not much" or "How are you? Fine thanks."
**Konkerons are a bizarre phenomenon of this culture that even the volunteers who have been here for two years have trouble explaining. Essentially they are people dressed up in large shaggy costumes that run around with machetes demanding money and threatening to beat people (and sometimes actually going through with it). They generally appear on holidays and at ceremonies and have an entourage of people beating drums and dancing. They are somewhat scary and Peace Corps advised us to avoid them wherever possible. See below:





I have some other pictures saved up as well, including pictures of our house...I will post them shortly...

Swearing In

Yesterday morning at 10:00am we were supposed to swear in as official Peace Corps Volunteers. However, nothing actually happens on time so it was more like 11:00am when it happened. If you want a visual think high school or college graduation. Our swearing in ceremony occurred at the American Ambassadors residence with several Gambian government dignitaries in attendance (the Ministry of Health and Social Welfare and the Ministry of Forestry and the Environment). These two ministries were represented because of the two sectors that were swearing in - Health and Community Development (HCD) and Environment and Natural Resource Management (ENRM). Sarah and I are both HCD volunteers. Like any other graduation ceremony there were speeches - the Peace Corps Country Director spoke, the Minister of Health and Social Welfare spoke, and finally two volunteers spoke (the same speech was given in both Wolof and English).

Two things to note....

I was very impressed by the speech given in Wolof because not only were jokes told, but more importantly - the Gambians attending the ceremony laughed. It is one thing to be able to communicate in another language, it is another thing to be able to effectively joke in another language. Sure one of our trainers helped translate the English speech into Wolof but the delivery was such that Gambians understood the humor.

The other cool thing was the oath we took (it is the same as the presidential oath with two words changed). It had the nice effect of making me actually feel a part of something larger than me. Apparently it's a cool feeling...go figure...

After that we had some free time until that evening when the older volunteers threw us a little party with some really tasty food - so if any of them see this - thank you!

It's been a long time in coming, but we are now official Peace Corps Volunteers - woohoo!

P.S. Apparently it is a good thing for people to be wearing matching outfits ("Asobi")

Here are some pictures from the ceremony:


All gussied up and ready for swear-in


Most of the ladies


The guys


The view from the Ambassadors house


Artsy shot


Swearing in


Shaking the hand of the US Ambassador to The Gambia


Shaking the hand of the US Ambassador to The Gambia


The four "trainees" with one of our trainers from our training village

All three of the couples in our training class