As you may or may not already know my Peace Corps service came to an end quite early. The politically correct/ short version is: my expectations of what my PC service would be and the reality of what PC the Gambia Environment service is do not match. This led me to make the tough decision that I no longer wished to serve as a PC volunteer. While this decision was disappointing it was the right choice for me. Nonetheless, I have finally set aside some time to express my final thoughts, experiences, and gratitude about my PC experience in this blog post. I hope to continue the blog other thoughts and experiences in my life- while they may not be from the view of a PCV in a hut in Africa they will forever reflect in some ways what those volunteers endured and experienced (although for me it was brief) and I will tell you it’s a hell of a lot. The volunteers I parted from in the Gambia are definitely some of the most courageous, positive, and kind Americans I have ever met and I am very proud of them and all PCVs.
I said ‘finally set aside some time to express my final thoughts’ because it’s very true that time is warped and while it slowly melts away in the Gambia it tends to fly by at lightening speed for me in the states. I’m not sure which way I prefer, the author Ryszard Kapuscinski captures the feeling of time in Africa best in his book The Shadow of the Sun “In this part of the world, time has no measure, no reference point, shape, or tempo. It spreads, melts and it is difficult to seize it, to give it form.” I feel in the states we tend to live, breathe, and think in the past and future, in Gambia and from what Kapuscinski says about his experiences throughout Africa, Africans live in the now, deal what’s directly in front of them and leave expectations behind. I admire it but I guess it’s no surprise that I myself, a product of western society, could not.
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| Village men building a garden fence. |
In my short time in the Gambia, my host mother’s and the village women built a vegetable garden- meaning they cut wooden fence posts from the bush that the men of the village built a fence out of. Myself and some “small boys” (any boy younger than yourself) of the village delineated 1-meter beds and assigned each woman in the village 2 beds. We then treated them with a local organic pesticide, added composted fertilizer (there are plenty of cow patties to go around) and the women planted their favorite greens. I gave them tons of watermelon seeds, which they were very excited about for when the rains come. Watermelons fetch a good price from buyers who bring them to the city and sell them for double.
The Gambians I lived with and came to know were the happiest and hardest working people I’ve ever met. They made the best out of every situation and never stopped smiling. I will never forget the lessons they taught me and will strive to live my life in the moment as they always do so very well.
Thanks for reading and enjoy the last of my Gambia shots below.
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| The outside of a gelly gelly. |
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| 2 round huts. |
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| Bamousa gets his donkey. |
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| 5 o-clock is futbol time!!!!!! (cool shirt, man) |
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| African Mahogany |
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| Pounding grain, badass. |
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| Goat, seen here as luggage riding atop a gelly. |
