Blogs from Kololi, Western Division, Gambia, Africa - page 2

My students were being naughty stubborn children this week. It doesn’t help that they have a hard time understanding me, but they never listen…to anybody. This does not surprise me as they are 5th graders and are in the prime time for weird behavior. Lord knows I was a disobedient little hell raiser when I was that age. I gave them a spelling test this week; their only homework was the study for the test. It went awful. To spare them from whipping, I decided to impart a different kind of public humiliation on them. Simon Says, in the middle of the school court yard where everyone could see. For those of you who are not familiar with this game (you should be ashamed), a leader- “Simon” is appointed to instruct the rest of the group ... read more

Some of you may know already that I have taken up teaching English for grade 5 at a primary school here. If you didn’t know that, now you do. It’s a pretty interesting experience. I thought this portion of my life would come much later. I also thought that me wearing gaudy gold jewelry to look hot would come later in my life as well…but I’m living in West Africa, and the time for both is now. There are 3 5th grade classrooms, with about 50 kids in each. They are with the same teacher for all subjects all day. They have break at 11:30, which consists of them throwing sand at each other in the open area, running up trees, and buying food/cigarettes for the teachers. They come back from break around 12, and break ... read more

I live in a compound with two other families. There are 3 houses (one being mine), and the other’s belong to Gambians…very domestic and traditional Gambians. Pretty much the day I moved in they expressed their concerns to me and my roommate, Julia, that we were not fit to clean an African house, and urged us to hire a maid ASAP. These people are very lovely, but are completely up in our business. They peer in my bedroom window just to see what’s up. Usually nothing besides my nudity and possibly some dance exercise to David Bowie. They knock on my windows at 7am to ask me questions, and tell me that I should feed my cat more often. All very nice, when I’ve had 2 cups of coffee and a cigarette. There is no such ... read more

I’ve been putting a lot of thought recently into the Gambian bumster situation. Allow me to pause and explain bumsters for your full enjoyment. A bumster is a young Gambian man, typically with “rasta” hair, who hangs out on the beach or on the street and tries to make friends with white people in the hopes of earning a living. These are the people that are relentless in their efforts to talk to you. Their typical greetings are “Hey boss lady, you’re looking very smart today” (smart means awesome)… “Pretty lady, won’t you give me a minute of your time?”… “Oh lovely white girl, you’re looking so cool, come and chat with me”… “I love you, what is your name?”…and my personal favorite “Hey empress, heaven must be missing angels because I’m seeing one right now.” ... read more

It happened. The very pinnacle point of your life where you invariably see the bright light at the end of the dark tunnel and crawl to it in an incoherent stupor. It happened. It’s called malaria. Despite the high fevers and cold chills, projectile vomit and diarrhea, abdominal and back pains, headaches and hallucination/dizzy spells, it was quite an amazing experience. Although I looked like the bride of death and was not in the mood for people visiting me, they still did. All of my Gambian friends came over every night, just to check on me, and see that I was alive. It’s through experiences like this that you see the human in every person. It also taught me an important lesson that I knew in theory, but not in practice. You are able to change ... read more