Oh day! What a good day. What a gorgeous goddamn day. The fasting went well, but I had little to strain myself over. I did happen to notice that my feet and ankles have become swollen like that of a pregnant lady. "K" thinks it has something to do with the heat, dehydration, high sodium intake. I agree but add on to that list mosquito bites and bed bug bites and probably a myriad of other things. My neck is still killing me. It’s like I had whiplash or something. Either from the enormous pillow which is made of tough hay, or the fact that I carry stress in these muscles. Pain and discomfort-wise it rated a 9 the other day. Today, maybe a 6. So that’s good. (A donkey just sneezed outside my window, it scared the crap out of me).
But I digress. It’s been a wonderful day, neck and feet aside, fasting gave me a little boost of energy and respect in the village and they all think it’s funny that I won’t do it again tomorrow. But again, besides all that. Today is the day before my birthday, I am turning 28 years old. I feel someday like 21, most others 62. Ida, our language and culture trainer (LCH) here in our training village left today at around 2pm so she can enjoy the holiday with her family. We are left to amuse ourselves and do all the mounds of homework by ourselves before we go to Tendeha Camp for a week, starting Monday. Well, when the cats away….
Ida left and we sat around our favorite mango tree, I put my feet up on the trunk to quell some of the swelling and rested my head on my binder, a familiar position for my afternoon nap beneath the classroom tree. There’s an elevated bamboo woven mat that surrounds the trunk. It makes for a perfect meeting place, well shaded throughout the afternoon. Well at about 3:30 or so, I never keep track of time anymore, I awoke and pulled some books out to study when I saw a bunch of toubabs, or white people with bikes and bike helmets out the top of hill near the entrance to town. I thought it was our neighbor Fula group of PCT’s (peace corps trainees) from the next village down about a kilometer and a half. Then one of the local boys came over to announce said Fula group coming from the back road, not the front. I tried to correct him saying that I can see the toubabs coming from the north. He instead said they were coming from the east. I looked to the east, and sure enough, there came the neighbor PCTs. Who were on the bikes then, Mormons? Hardly. The 3rd and 4th group about 5 or 6 kilometers down the road from the Mandinka villages. Without direct communication the Fula group made a 30 minute trek on foot to our village arriving at the same time as the Mandinka PCTs some 30-40 mins by bike and the opposite direction!
No one could believe the coincidence. On top of that, our village is populated by 7 (only 7 compounds). Even if each compound had 10 people that’s only 70 towns people. Here, on a sleepy Thursday afternoon comes 12-14 white people, some on bikes all wishing me a happy birthday. I almost forgot it was my birthday to be honest. I have enough on my plate and I hate burdening people with stuff like that, but how sweet of them to all make the effort. I have to say I was pretty surprised. I didn’t think I was going to see "J" or "A" until Tendeba so when they showed up, we got to catch up a little, swap stories, plus I felt this becoming sense of pride for my village. It’s small but everyone is so nice and it’s noticeable. "J" made some comment about how some other villages were tougher, the people here he said: “You can see the love in them”. I showed them my house and backyard and tomato plant where I bathe. "J" pulled out a fifth of whisky (McCarthy brand 7 dalasi Gambian special) and technically I broke fast. But hey, it’s my birthday. Everyone left too soon, but had to hit the road before dark. I understand. "A", who has been having a rough time adjusting, got the boost he needed visiting with everyone and seems much more optimistic. We walked down to get our books from the mango tree and noticed a giant black cloud over the firmament. I’ve never been to the Midwest but I imagine this is what it’s like to be sitting outside in the muggy heat one second, and then have to grab your stuff and run for the hills the next. A giant wind blew through town and everyone was off the street. We grabbed our books and high tailed it out of there. I met up with one of my younger brothers and we talked about the “ngigam” that was about to come. Last birthday I had been in a foreign country was Spain’05 and it stormed that day as well. I love storms and I love rain, and I love it when a good cool wind blows through hot African towns. Thank God for a wonderful birthday or pre-birthday. I sat beneath my thatched roof on the concrete porch with my three “minirawo” or younger brothers and tried to communicate about the rain and how where I’m from it rains all the time and how I miss it. They were shivering—it’s probably 70 degrees or thereabout and they are freezing. They asked for the guitar and so I brought it out and we sat on the bench on the patio. One kid strumming, one kid drumming on the wood, and me holding down strings to make the G and E-Major chords, the guitar stretched out on our laps. It was great. Poor people aren’t so bad after all.
Later we gathered in the father’s house. I had not been in there before. It’s the same size as mine but without concrete floors, just dirt like the outside but no one cares. We broke fast with this tea that I love so much. I’ll be sad when Ramadan ends cause that’ll be the end of the tea. Also there’s bread, little baguettes, fresh that day from one village over, a little butter and garlic smeared inside of it, then roasted “tourbano” or corn. An ear put right on the charcoals of a small little stove, the kernels are roasted and it tastes like popcorn still on the ear. Awesome, love it! The little girl and I played that game where you hold your hands out and the other person tries to slap them before you can remove ‘em. I had her giggling for 5 minutes. All in all, great day.
Now I get to go to bed and have more vivid dreams. Last night I was modeling for Madonna’s Vogue album cover. It was me making zombie-like shadow puppets with Madonna and company on the bed with a camera liking what I did. What will happen tonight? Hopefully the first night it’s cool enough where I’ll wake up without sweat all over me. At least I hope it’s sweat. Oh, also point to make….Bucket baths are actually pretty great especially under the stars at night when you’re surrounded by fields of tall corn and cous. Tonight, since it was pouring rain, I made the decision to bathe under the rain as well as the night. I stripped inside and left my towel and things inside, walked out naked with only my sandals on since the clouds blocked the stars and moon, it was pitch black. I had only a dim light from my headlamp inside my house to see the concrete path to the latrine area. Again, I have a pit latrine and concrete landing area where I bathe. The sun bleaches it during the day so it’s nice and clean by night. There’s a neck-high fence of dried reed and no roof so I can stand naked bathing and see the fields and water pump besides my compound when there’s better light out, but not tonight. Black. The rain was not cold, but not warm either. The bucket of water was cold as hell so it was nice to get a little rain dropping on me to mix things up. All in all, totally recommend bathing outside at night in the rain, if anyone ever gets the chance.
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