Words!

I've been at site two weeks now. I want to tell you everything, but I'm at real risk of saying nothing at all and instead wasting hours thinking of beginnings and then shutting the laptop shut in a fit of overwhelmed panic.

Okay.

Grrr...

Oh! I'll start with my squirrel story! It is a short story: I saw a squirrel. I didn't know squirrels existed in The Gambia, and for all I know it wasn't actually a squirrel, but that's what the driver told me, and it looked enough like one for me to believe him. Here's a transcript of the conversation, as remembered two weeks later:

A squirrel dashes along the side of the road and into the bushes. 
Me: What was that?!
The Peace Corps Driver: A squirrel. I should have run him over!
Me: I did not know The Gambia had squirrels!!!
Driver: There are squirrels in America?
Me: Yes, there are squirrels ALL over America.
Driver: And you do not kill them?
Me: No.

Yes, yes, I know squirrels end up splattered on the roads in America all the time, but do we aim for them? Not usually.

Here's another story, because maybe you can piece together these stories puzzle-style and form a picture of my life. Or just ignore this post and look at the actual photos of my life.

Rugi, my maybe 5-year-old host-niece, is in my hut watching me fill my water bottle from my filter. In Pulaar:
Rugi: You have a pump!
Me: No, this is a filter.
Rugi: No! It's a pump, it's a pump!
Me: No.
Rugi: Pump!
Me: No.
Rugi puts her mouth to the tap of my filter and starts drinking. 
Me: Stop!
Rugi smiles. 
Me: Stop!
I pull Rugi away and we go outside. 

3 days later, sitting under a tree with Rugi and her older brother, Mamadou. In Pulaar:
Mamadou: Do you need to fetch water from the pump? I will help you. [at least, I imagine he said something along those lines. I didn't actually understand his exact words]
Rugi: No! She has a pump in her house!
Me: It's not a pump, it's a filter!

And those are all the stories for today.