The job I'm doing here and the life I'm living: It is weaving long, twisted strands of spun fiber into a beautiful, durable fabric. The loom is pieced together from found objects and hand-hewn sticks. The work is tedious and the rickety machinery causes blisters and backaches.
One has to keep looking into the distance and seeing the far away goals in order to not get lost in the close-up befuddlement of the cross-eyed, teary-eyed laborious process. I have to remember that these things take time, that we each have a contribution to make, and that while it is never easy it is always worth it.
I've been working a lot lately. I am stretched between the job and the cultural integration. Somedays I don't know where to begin; others I could start just about anywhere. I've been moving around, doing many different things. I fall asleep in one bed and wake in another. So much of what I do is in the Kombo area far away from the village that is my home.
I've decided to make a change. It has been a tough decision, one that will disappoint some of my friends and make others speculate about my motivations. I'm leaving my village.
I'm going to move- tomorrow in fact- to a beachside village near the metropolitan capitol city of Banjul. I've been thinking about this move for six months and have finally decided that it is time to make the change. I have been working with the National Beekeepers Association of The Gambia on several projects and have also been participating in Peace Corps trainings. All of this has kept me away from the village where I have been living for the past sixteen months. Sometimes I enjoy it while at other times I am frustrated because I am unable to focus on my projects there.
Am I moving away because of the ruin that my garden has become in my absence? Am I frustrated with the attitudes of my host village? Do I expect my work to be more effective here than it was there? Do I just want to live near the cool breeze of the sea, my girlfriend, or the dining options that accompany beachside tourism? Am I giving up?
Ultimately, there are many factors that have led me to make this choice. Telling the Fula people of my village that I was transferring to Gunjur was a difficult exchange. Explaining that I have work to do there they replied Kono a hebi ligge gaye. "But you have work to do here." My reason: I have a specialized skill that is sort of being wasted living in the rural village. I came here knowing a little bit about beekeeping and have learned so much since arriving in October 2007. While the people in my village are interested in learning about bees, they also need development in so many other ways. I wish that my diverse interests could be utilized to help them but I have increasingly felt like the greatest contribution I could make here is to focus on what I can do best.
I want to work where beekeeping is the primary focus, where people already have a basic understanding of the art and want to develop more intensive practices. I want to work with NBAG and the Sifoe Beekeeping Kaafo on their missions to teach Gambians about beekeeping while conducting research about bees in West Africa. NBAG and Sifoe are both within bicycling distance of my new home. While both of these places have experienced problems in the past with their practice and management, they remain dedicated to making a difference in The Gambia. By working with them, I can benefit more Gambians (hopefully) than I can by staying focussed on the small-scale work that accompanies life in an isolated rural village.
Of course it is a complex decision. I have spoken extensively about it with some of my counterparts, the Peace Corps staff, my Language and Culture Facilitator, and many of my friends. Finally, it comes down to asking myself "Where will I be most happy?" I have finally decided. While I am sure to miss some things about Chewel and to suffer from the guilt of abandonment, I also will be able to visit those people from time to time and to share with them some of what I will learn through my new, focussed work.
I am excited for this new chapter of my Gambian Peace Corps experience. I will be living with Mandinkas and so I will get to learn about that culture and language. My new home has a population of almost 30,000 people. I will still read at night by flashlight as there is no electricity, I will still take bucketbaths as there is no running water. But now I will be able to continue the work I am doing while sleeping in my own bed every night. My host family is one old woman and her two sons in their twenties, not yet married. I will be able to work with beekeepers at two separate locations and I also hope to spend time with the women in the large garden there and help with a lagoon restoration project near the ocean. This, like almost everything I have experienced in The Gambia, is bound to be complex and difficult and rewarding.
Ultimately, there are many factors that have led me to make this choice. Telling the Fula people of my village that I was transferring to Gunjur was a difficult exchange. Explaining that I have work to do there they replied Kono a hebi ligge gaye. "But you have work to do here." My reason: I have a specialized skill that is sort of being wasted living in the rural village. I came here knowing a little bit about beekeeping and have learned so much since arriving in October 2007. While the people in my village are interested in learning about bees, they also need development in so many other ways. I wish that my diverse interests could be utilized to help them but I have increasingly felt like the greatest contribution I could make here is to focus on what I can do best.
I want to work where beekeeping is the primary focus, where people already have a basic understanding of the art and want to develop more intensive practices. I want to work with NBAG and the Sifoe Beekeeping Kaafo on their missions to teach Gambians about beekeeping while conducting research about bees in West Africa. NBAG and Sifoe are both within bicycling distance of my new home. While both of these places have experienced problems in the past with their practice and management, they remain dedicated to making a difference in The Gambia. By working with them, I can benefit more Gambians (hopefully) than I can by staying focussed on the small-scale work that accompanies life in an isolated rural village.Of course it is a complex decision. I have spoken extensively about it with some of my counterparts, the Peace Corps staff, my Language and Culture Facilitator, and many of my friends. Finally, it comes down to asking myself "Where will I be most happy?" I have finally decided. While I am sure to miss some things about Chewel and to suffer from the guilt of abandonment, I also will be able to visit those people from time to time and to share with them some of what I will learn through my new, focussed work.I am excited for this new chapter of my Gambian Peace Corps experience. I will be living with Mandinkas and so I will get to learn about that culture and language. My new home has a population of almost 30,000 people. I will still read at night by flashlight as there is no electricity, I will still take bucketbaths as there is no running water. But now I will be able to continue the work I am doing while sleeping in my own bed every night. My host family is one old woman and her two sons in their twenties, not yet married. I will be able to work with beekeepers at two separate locations and I also hope to spend time with the women in the large garden there and help with a lagoon restoration project near the ocean. This, like almost everything I have experienced in The Gambia, is bound to be complex and difficult and rewarding.
