Football Comes to Gambia

I invited Modou to the beach to teach him a litte about American Football, you have to specify "American Football" as what we call Soccer is actually Football everywhere in the world but the USA.  Gambians have no sports at all that involves throwing anything. Mo has never even see football played on tv. We spent about an hour on the beach with the waves crashing at our knees learning the basics of how to hold and throw the ball. The progression went something like this: Gripping the ball and heaving into the air like its a 16lb shotput, then tossing it like you are throwing a roundhouse haymaker punch. He eventually began to figure out the mechanics of it and resembled a teenage girl learning to throw a ball for the first time. All the while he had this expression on his face like he is trying to do long division in his head with his tongue hanging out to one side as he concentrates on which foot to step with. He has surprisingly good hands and is able to catch the ball as if it were velcro. After the first hour, every third toss actually had some spin and distance on it and his face would erupt into a huge grin. Not long after that we were throwing each other simple pass routes untill the fat Toubab was soaked and out of breath. He was very excited to learn the game and cant wait to try again next week.

Africa Hot..

So yes there is substance to the term Its Africa Hot.  The day before yesterday I was inside working on some homework when I heard a loud explosion BANG!!! I made me jump out of my seat and I began running scenarios through my head of what it could have been; the compound wall collapsed, the roof caved in, someone was hunting ducks in the back yard?? I got outside and Sang was also looking around to see what it was, then he pointed to something flat and black laying against the compound wall. It was my spare tire cover and one side of hit had a whole ripped in it. We turned around to see the spare tire sitting on the back of my truck 30 feet away had exploded. A shredded wound of heavy rubber and steel belting big enough to put my fist into. Yes, it was from the heat. I was curious so I took my little desktop thermometer outside to set it on the table. 109 degrees F and the internet said the humidity has been between 60-100% for weeks now. Now thats Africa Hot.

Close Encounters

Last weekend Nikki and I decided to try out a sport neither of us has played for quite some time. Tennis, there are a couple courts at the Fajara Club where I have been playing golf. There is also a very refreshing pool and a bar right next to the courts for when you finish playing in 105 degree heat, near death and in danger of melting into the concrete court like Dorothy's Foe. I got up from relaxing in my poolside chair after taking a dip, Nikki had just left for the ladies room when I heard something. Pit Patter, Pit PAtter, Pit PATter, Pit PATTer getting closer and louder as if a huge wet Labrador retriever puppy was galloping up to pounce on me. I turned just in time to see a large monkey (about the size of the dog I imagined)about a foot behind me sauntering past at a bit of a four legged jog, his 4 foot tail trailing behind him just barely missed grazing my butt. I watched as he effortlessly jumped up a tree for a little nibble on something then continued through the yard to the 10 foot concrete wall which it cleared in one fluid move with not so much as a hesitation. Nikki came out seconds later disappointed to hear the news as she has yet to see a monkey outside the Bijilo monkey park.

Today I went for a bike ride which some say is a death wish around here, I think of it more of a practice in anticipatory planning and reaction time. So I am cranking along doing about 15-20 MPH down one of 3 paved roads in the area, when I glance over to see the grass along side me about 12 feet away being mowed down and flattened by something fairly big. It was fast too, keeping pace with me even through the grass. I thought to myself if this pans out like my last encounter with wildlife while mountain biking (Squirrel Pancake!!) I might be the one in the dirt counting stars in broad daylight collecting my teeth off the ground. Me and the unseen monster were neck and neck for about a 100ft when SWISH the grass path darted in my direction OH SH#@ CROCODILE!!!! Then as I stood up looking back while still coasting down the road I realized it wasn't a Croc but a hulking 6 foot Monitor Lizard that had bolted across the road just a few feet behind my back tire..It was AWESOME!!

The Rug

***Yes, this is Nikki's first "official" post since Mitch has started writing this blog***

Three months ago, when we moved to The Gambia,  I started work in an office building that was under-going serious renovations. My staff had been in the same office building for over twenty years, they had out grown the space: it was dilapidated, dirty, and well, embarrassing. In the past ninety days we've had walls torn down, offices relocated, floors retiled, bathrooms remodeled, entry ways and patios constructed, and the entire building painted. Not long ago I was able to see the light at the end of our narrow construction tunnel and I decided that to put the final "beautifying" touches on the office building, I would order a large ornate rug to put in the office lobby.

The rug was delivered to my office today. I was ecstatic, it was perfect. Lush colors, great graphics, like nothing you could find here, it was going to look fantastic in our lobby! Proudly, I took it around the office, showing it to all my staff. They were very impressed, but they asked what I was going to do with it. "Well, it's a rug, I'm going to put it in the lobby, it will look very nice there." Everyone looked at me dubiously and one of them said, "but it will get dirty." Um, yes, but it is a rug, that is ultimately it's purpose. Once this conversation started there was no going back, it was like the little snowball that starts a huge avalanche. Ten staff members looked on at me and fiercely protested my placement of the rug on the floor. They picked it up and told me that hanging it on the wall would be a much better use of this beautiful piece of artwork. Clearly, they did not understand the purpose of a rug! (I could've spent $5 and had a wall tapestry made!)

After much back and forth, my staff decided that they would allow me to put the rug on the floor, with one condition: it had to be covered by plastic. I still thought that defeated the purpose of a rug and made it ugly, so I said, "let's leave it on the floor for now and see how dirty it gets." At that point I probably shouldn't have headed back up to my office, because 10 minutes later I was told that no one saw things the way I did, and since we were unable to agree on what to do with the rug, it had been "put away".

The rug is now sitting in a storage room, where it won't get dirty, awaiting the day when the rainy season ends and when our newly constructed walls can hold the weight of a 50 lbs. decorative rug. Lesson learned: if you ever want something to be used for a functional purpose in Africa, make sure that it doesn't look nice (let's just hope this doesn't apply to office buildings).

Palm Oil

If you ever wondered where palm oil comes from here is the quick and dirty.

It starts as a cluster of red almond size beans between the stock and leaf of an Oil Palm Tree that is hacked off with a machete by a guy named Sang.

 Then its dried for a couple days which allows it to be shucked from the cluster. By a guy named Sang..

Once cleaned you have a bucket of little red beans. 

 The beans are dried then boiled, then dried again, then pounded, then boiled again and strained to get the precious oil separated from the pulp. Class dismissed.

First Attempt

I think its millet
 

I discovered that the small grain that I feed the chickens, sprouted 3 days after being placed in a little basket that I fashioned to be a bird feeder. This got me to thinking, which can be dangerous under the right motivation, Nikki can attest. The epiphany cloud formed overhead... This is a grain of some sort, grain is the main ingredient in BEER. Hmmmm...After a little internet search I found out I had actually completed the first step of Malting, purely by accident. Oh yeah!! Now this could get interesting, being the green minded soul that I am and don't forget the blog title. I have set out to create a purely local brew from supplies I can find at the local market. As with most great discoveries controlled replication can be difficult (watch The Medicine Man with Sean Connery and you will know my frustration). I immediately went to the market and bought 10 pounds of the mystery grain. I then soaked it for 3 days in water, seemed logical. Then I put it outside to get some sun and heat, again logical right? That is where is started to go downhill, I think It started to decompose. 2 days in the heat after 2 days soaked in water I decided to try and dry it out since there was no sprouting going on. So yesterday afternoon I spread it out like frosting on the plastic picnic table outside. Well last night we got an unexpected rain storm, and this morning all three chickens were at an all you can eat buffet. Thats fine, Ill try to salvage whats left, at this point the stench pretty much covers the entire back yard. Not to mention that it feels like a dung heap as the foul sludge that I created is obviously irresistable to flies. Sang helped me fix the table to drain off the nasty slime that was not drying out at all. Finally, this afternoon I couldnt imagine drinking whatever the result of this toxic ooze was so I scattered it for the birds. This weekend is attempt number 2.  On a good note, Nikki and I bottled our good ole american IPA on Monday so we are a week away from bliss.

Hello there..

I have to write about this one because it is one of the most amusing and frustrating things about this culture. In the United States if you go somewhere to get a car part or groceries or whatever, you generally just say; Hello, I am looking for this. Not here...In The Gambia if you go to get any item the exchange generally goes like this (Not Exaggerating):

Me: Hello, how are you?
Them: I am fine thank you, how are you?
Me: I'm good, do you ha...
Them: How are you?
Me: Yes, I'm fine. Do yo...
Them: Hows the work?
Me: I'm not working yet, I am going to University.

This generally continues for a few more minutes before we can get down to business. And if I have ever been to the store/garage/mud pit with Thor then they ask how he is doing and so on and so forth. Now, let's say I have to go get something out of the car to show them what I need since verbal communication can be a nightmare, even for locals. Then when I return a few seconds later the greetings start over...good grief no wonder it takes forever to get anything done here.

Gambian Time: If you need to get something done and are supposed to meet soemone to do it.
 "First thing early in the morning when I wake up" means around 11am but don't expect me to get there until around 1pm then lunch at 3pm followed by tea (Attaya) every 30 minutes after then at about 5pm it's time to go home. But when they do work, they WORK. In addition to the chop shop guys, we saw a group of 3 or 4 guys digging a perfectly straight trench 4 feet deep for probably 300 yards in 3 days. Using only pick axes. Yin and Yang I guess.

Bill Engval would be out of breath..

Gambians are masters of the obvious. Apparently it is part of their culture to point these things out, whether it's to be social or just kill time, I am not sure. So many times I have wanted to pull a "here's your sign" moment but I know it would probably come across as just being an ass. I dont think Blue Collar comedy is piped in over Arabic channels very often.

For instance, last week I was walking home from Nikki's office in a torrential downpour, I was completely and utterly soaked, water pouring off my head, my clothes weighed about 30 pounds, shoes squishing with every step. I walk in the front gate and Sang calls out from the little guard shack where he is making tea; "Get Wet??" Um no, not at all....Or if you get back from running an errand, or even just to the bathroom you will get: "You are back???" I hear that one about 50 times a day. The mechanic I have helping me with the truck has been over a few times to do some repairs, when I handed him his payment he simply says: "This is for me??" Yesterday, I couldn't help myself, I responded with, "No thats for me, give it back." He laughed and pocketed the money. Late last night I had to get something out of the truck, it was raining, I was barefoot and wearing nothing but gym shorts. I closed the car door and turned around to see the night guard standing there with his billy club at his side and he asked: "You are going out??" Uh, no. thanks though.

Flew the Coop?

Monday evening I asked Sang to pick us up another chicken on his way to our house the following day. I was hoping to get a bit of a boost in our egg production as it had been nil for nearly 2 weeks. A good laying hen will cost between 180-200 dalasi, roughly $6 US. I went out to feed the "flock" Tuesday morning and noticed my "flock" consisted of one bird. Somehow the newest chicken seemed to be enormous, as if she had absorbed the other bird who was now, nowhere to be found. I spent the next 30 minutes searching every nook and hideout she had used in the past. No luck. Shortly after my search party disbanned (me and Thor) Sang arrived with the new addition, here I was thinking that I was forcing attrition. My search party resumed for a second round. Still no luck, we were beginning to suspect Fowl play ;)  I went about my business, confused about the missing chicken, 15 minutes later Sang runs up to me with his usual huge smile; She's Out! She's Out! I am only half sure of what he said, so I followed to him to the yard where 3 hens wandered about. Excellent!! I continued to go about my business. And 5 minutes later, Sang appears again with his usual huge grin; Come see! Come See! I followed him into the yard and he parts a thick bunch of Lemon Grass to expose 11 perfect little eggs in a bowl of grass and soil. Clever little chicken. I called Nikki to let her know that the crisis was averted and she said, "I know, I heard". Sang was so excited about finding the chicken he had called up to the Peace Corps office and told the General Services Officer (who's name happens to be Sheriff) that the missing chicken had been located.