One morning a teacher brought some food to school and invited us to eat. It was cous cous topped with what appeared to be popcorn shrimp. Shrimp seems unlikely, though, as I’ve never heard of it being sold in or around my village before. So maybe it was popcorn chicken. But that seems equally unlikely. In all of The Gambia I have never seen chicken cut into thin little pieces, breaded, and dropped in boiling oil.
Well, whatever I ate, it was delicious.
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 4, 2012
Ameriphone!
You need to know maths in order to apply for a visa to America. For any francophone or ameriphone country, actually. At least, according to one of the maths teachers. This teacher has clearly never applied for an American visa. Then again, neither have I, so what do I know? I wish, however, that admission to America/Europe were not being promoted as the reason to work hard in maths.
Another morning I overheard a student talking to this teacher about something he'd told her earlier.
“I remember what you said in class, if I should get a husband and he should take me to America…”
Apparently, he’d warned her that if she needed to wear a sweater, etc. here, she would never be able to go to Europe.
Guess I’ll never be able to go to Europe, either. I was so excited when I found a discarded knitted hat—now I can stop trying to drape a fleece blanket over my head in the morning; lighting the burner just got a lot safer.
Another morning I overheard a student talking to this teacher about something he'd told her earlier.
“I remember what you said in class, if I should get a husband and he should take me to America…”
Apparently, he’d warned her that if she needed to wear a sweater, etc. here, she would never be able to go to Europe.
Guess I’ll never be able to go to Europe, either. I was so excited when I found a discarded knitted hat—now I can stop trying to drape a fleece blanket over my head in the morning; lighting the burner just got a lot safer.
Jan 3, 2012
Paramilitary!
A conversation that I wish I could remember more of was the one that took place when Ous and Pateh (both aged three, maybe) followed me to the luumo. Ous was talking about the paramilitary. I don’t remember if he was saying he was scared of them or that he was brave or that people in general should be scared of them…something along those lines. But it is okay because Ous has a gun, his dad gave it to him. Pateh, too, has a gun. His dad gave it to him. They will shoot the paramilitary.
I ask, "But if you shoot the paramilitary, who will lock up the thieves?"
Ous tells me he will. Then he tells me there is a konkoran behind that tree.
"Where?"
"There. The tree by the pharmacy. Don’t you see it?"
"Yes—I do!"
"Bang-bang!" Ous has shot the konkoran.
At the market all the people comment that the kids aren’t wearing any shoes and I hope no one tells their moms. Pateh wants me to buy him a little car, but I buy the boys melted icees instead.
I ask, "But if you shoot the paramilitary, who will lock up the thieves?"
Ous tells me he will. Then he tells me there is a konkoran behind that tree.
"Where?"
"There. The tree by the pharmacy. Don’t you see it?"
"Yes—I do!"
"Bang-bang!" Ous has shot the konkoran.
At the market all the people comment that the kids aren’t wearing any shoes and I hope no one tells their moms. Pateh wants me to buy him a little car, but I buy the boys melted icees instead.
Jan 2, 2012
High school!
Really, high school students are the same the world over.
Ebrima returns to class and announces, “I was urinating, I swear to God, and Mr. Kinteh says I have just come back from smoking.”
Ebrima returns to class and announces, “I was urinating, I swear to God, and Mr. Kinteh says I have just come back from smoking.”
Jan 1, 2012
Camping!
Kairaba wants to talk about the fire. He thinks fires for sitting around at night are not in America. I think we had this conversation last year, but I say no, the fires are there. Neene expresses surprise. “Really?” I say, yes, it is there. I feel obligated to explain, but how to explain camping?
Me: Sometimes American people will go to the bush, they will want to sleep there…and they will have a fire.
Puzzled faces.
Me: You know in America there are many houses.
Kairaba: Yes.
Me: And…if the people do not want to look at houses, if they want to look at trees, they will go to the bush and sleep there. They will sleep in something…it is sticks and fabric…The sticks are like this and the fabric is on top…
Puzzled faces. Neene asks if it is something and when I say I do not know what that something is she indicates the large wooden poles that were once used to support a thatched awning between my house and hers. “No, not that.”
Kairaba, sensing we’ve given up, says, “No, let Binta speak until it is clear.” So I repeat basically everything I’d just finished saying, and nothing is any clearer. And what else could I add? What more is camping other than going to the woods and sleeping in a tent and sitting around a fire? Neene is convinced I do not know what I am describing but I say no, in English it is a tent, in Pulaar…I don’t know.
I can’t remember what I said that changed things, and I almost suspect Kairaba had heard me say “tent” but let me struggle a bit before saying, “Ah—camping.”
Me: You know camping??
And he launches into an explanation of how he used to work at the national park in Senegal; there was a hotel there and you could sleep at the hotel for such-and-such a price each night or you could go and sleep in a tent for 100 dalasis for one night, 200 dalasis for two nights, 300 dalasis for three nights. He turns to Neene and explains that the price is so cheap because you are not sleeping in a hotel, you are just sleeping outside. And you will have a bed that you will pump with air. One time a man came and he wanted to camp for three nights and the man and the woman they slept in the tent, three nights, 300 dalasis.
Me: Sometimes American people will go to the bush, they will want to sleep there…and they will have a fire.
Puzzled faces.
Me: You know in America there are many houses.
Kairaba: Yes.
Me: And…if the people do not want to look at houses, if they want to look at trees, they will go to the bush and sleep there. They will sleep in something…it is sticks and fabric…The sticks are like this and the fabric is on top…
Puzzled faces. Neene asks if it is something and when I say I do not know what that something is she indicates the large wooden poles that were once used to support a thatched awning between my house and hers. “No, not that.”
Kairaba, sensing we’ve given up, says, “No, let Binta speak until it is clear.” So I repeat basically everything I’d just finished saying, and nothing is any clearer. And what else could I add? What more is camping other than going to the woods and sleeping in a tent and sitting around a fire? Neene is convinced I do not know what I am describing but I say no, in English it is a tent, in Pulaar…I don’t know.
I can’t remember what I said that changed things, and I almost suspect Kairaba had heard me say “tent” but let me struggle a bit before saying, “Ah—camping.”
Me: You know camping??
And he launches into an explanation of how he used to work at the national park in Senegal; there was a hotel there and you could sleep at the hotel for such-and-such a price each night or you could go and sleep in a tent for 100 dalasis for one night, 200 dalasis for two nights, 300 dalasis for three nights. He turns to Neene and explains that the price is so cheap because you are not sleeping in a hotel, you are just sleeping outside. And you will have a bed that you will pump with air. One time a man came and he wanted to camp for three nights and the man and the woman they slept in the tent, three nights, 300 dalasis.
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