Four Dentist

I always hated dentist and that is not about to change for a long time especially after the run around I have just gone through.  I have just finish what a dentist phobic person might call, hell – 4 dentist, 3 countries, 2 crowns and 1 root canal.

It all started with a Gambian dentist who want to put a mercury filling in my mouth.  My first thought was, shit, didn’t we stop using those 50 years ago in the states.  Then came the thought, hold on, I used to have one of those but I had to get it removed because g-d blessed me with corrosive, cavity carving and over active salivary glands.  Not to be confused with a friend of mine who drools a lot but the kind that sends me to the dentist on a constant bases despite proper care.  So I told the dentist I need to consult the PC doctor but in my mind I was thinking ‘oh NO!’

I talked the PC doc to letting me get it fixed in the States on my upcoming visit.  He agreed and off I went to the good old United stated of America.  I showed up at the dentist ready to get a quick fix with a great American doctor of dental care. She was like ‘oh NO, sonny you need a crown and maybe a root canal. No actually you don’t need a root canal. Well I don’t know maybe…NO, you are good.’ But I was like ‘it was an American dentist, they know everything.’  That also meant I needed a different form from PC and getting this form was almost like the government had shut down to decide to let me have the crown, oh wait, it really did (luckily my form came first, so they got a little practice)!

Bam! Got the crown done easy because it’s America, right? Then I went on my merry way and had a great trip visiting friends and family.

I landed back in Gambia a little fatter, more in love with my girlfriend and ready to finish off my PC service with a renewed sense of excitement.  My tooth still hurt but I quickly brushed that off with the thought of long flights and cabin pressure. It continued to persist over the next two weeks, especially when I was on a bumpy dirt road or riding my bike. There is no shortage of bad roads and my bike is my main source of transportation.  I had no choice but to see another dentist.  The third dentist said that it was apparent that I needed a root canal and ‘the first dentist should have diagnosed the problem.’  I was pretty pissed at this point; it took not but one dentist, but three dentists to figure out the problem. One those dentists was even an American dentist.  I guess Americans don’t always get it right either.  To top it all off, PC protocol requires that we go to Senegal for all root canals.

Here I sit in Senegal after the 4, 3, 2 and 1 count because it takes one week to make that second crown I needed because the dentist had to cut the first one off.  This has all taken way too long but I am happy to be just about done with everything.  PC and Africa really teaches you what patients means.  

A Ride on the Blue Moon Express

There are two ways I can travel in the Gambia: on a local gele-gele (think of a Frankenstein car/van with Flintstone size holes in the floor board that you would never in a million years ever imagine could move in a forward motion or for that matter hold 30 people when it should only hold 20) or a Land Cruisers newsiest mobile aka Peace Corps Vehicle (which may happen once every 5 months).  You can ask me another time the hundreds of ridiculous, scary, crazy and hilarious stories I experience on a gele. This time I want to tell you about my ‘once in a blue moon’ rides on a Peace Corps car.

I recently went to Morocco (which was amazing and beautiful), and although it is a developing country it is leaps and bounds past this place.  Not having left The Gambia in over a year it was truly an eye opening and at times, a mind blowing experience.  It helped my girlfriend, Sarah and I remember how different the world is outside of the smallest country in Africa.  Let me see, how can I help you best understand this?  In the 1930s the Empire State building was completed and in 2013 the tallest building is isn’t over 8 stories high.  The Gambia is at the bottom of the world’s list of infrastructure.   Needless to say, being on a train in morocco, going a hundred miles an hour was a little bizarre (and at times nauseating, when we have not gone over 40 miles an hour in a long time). 

I forgot how much I loved trains, shit, I forgot how much I loved a lot of things.  It was almost like Sarah and I were two kids again experiencing things for the first time.   We had that feeling of both apprehension and thrill of what felt like a new experiences. Just imagine you are sitting on a train and you get a feeling beginning to bubble up and you can literally feel the electricity of your nerves firing inside of your body as the beautiful Moroccan landscape wising by at million miles an hour.  It is like you are a kid again and every train ride is a landscape filled cinematic adventure.   It was hard to constantly re-live old, but which now felt like new experiences.  But ultimately, despite the train full of emotions, the trip was fantastic adventure and exactly what we needed. 

After a few weeks in morocco and a couple of days in Spain, Sarah and I got a heard reality our lives in The Gambia are not easy.  From transportation to proper nutrition, everything takes 10 times more effort and energy.  This realization was an enormous relief.  We have been extremely hard on ourselves trying to adapt and thrive in this new environment.  We hardly gave ourselves a break when things did not go as planned. We beat ourselves up when we did not have the energy to get a glass of water, forgetting how easy it used to be and only knowing how hard it is at the present.  All we really need was some prospective and it really changed the color of the situation.  Gambia is a third world country but in our minds up until recently, it was the country that we live and work in.  The whole country is fighting that struggle, we were not the only ones struggling and we neglected to remember. ‘It’s not easy dey’ (a common English pseudo African phrases).

So all of these thoughts really came to fruition on that ride I have been trying to tell you about.  I was sitting in the back of the Peace Corps car going 50 miles an hour.  Which mean we are flying past all the other donkey carts, motor cycles and car on the road.  I am sitting there in an a/c with my own seat and I am watching the world fly by (just like the train).  I was amazed at how different everything looked, I am used to see things  at Gambian pace in a POS but for the first time I was moving faster than the pace of life – and my eyes were widened.   I felt like I was peering in on this small little African country from a window standing on the outside while having and intimate understanding of what I saw.  That’s when all of these realizations hit me like a ton of bricks.

This is a beautiful place. The place is hard as hell.  I have been doing a good job. I can continue doing a good job. I have deep respect for anyone who even attempted PC. That’s a beautiful smile.  I live in a mud hut.  I only eat rice.  Damn its hot outside. Slowly, Slowly things will get done. Relax. Take a breath. Everything is going to be alright (to the tune of Bob Marley).

Perspective perspective perspective.  I just try to keep telling myself that.  It really is one power thought and I just got to keep working on it. 

I will leave you with this one last thing. I have never in my life felt so free to think my own thoughts.  It is truly an empowering feeling.

Jama Rek 

Project Trails and Tribulations

I finished my project. Does that mean my work is done in the PC? When I have finished my 2 years of good deeds, do I need to do any more in my life time? Of course not! Who is to say when the work is done? I guess that is for me to decide. So far I have come to the conclusion the answer is never, the work is never done. You just have to be content that you did satisfactory work and time is the true indicator of success.

I said  I finished my first PC project. It’s a real badge of merit in the PC community but not as satisfying as I expected it to feel. It is hard to pat yourself on the back when poverty and malnutrition are the same issues as before. Some volunteers say murals are some of the most satisfying projects because it paint on the wall and you see the final results, where as my health school may take years for impact to occur. The lessons learned and the knowledge handed down to children and family members in order for it to make a lasting impact. America is such a results driven culture. I am still an American even though now I may be 1/32 African, and I would like to see results. But that is one of the many daily lessons I learn here- patience and faith. So I move to my next endeavor- with those lessons in mind. Myself and 2 other volunteers are putting on an HIV/AIDS football tournament. Will we cure AIDS? No but we sure as hell are going to educate some football players and start a conversation about prevention.

Wait…I still haven’t told you how my project went….

From my point of view, I would rate it as semi-successful (success being signs of sanitation and nutritional improvement). My counterparts and I taught 7 topics over a 4 month period. We encouraged involvement through a competition, which they gain points and get prizes. My counterpart and I recently visited every woman to evaluate their learning and application of knowledge.

The first house we visited my counterpart ingeniously asked the children how and when to wash their hands. Upon asking a 7 year old girl demonstrated the technique perfectly as we did in class. Washing the front of her hand, then the backs and under her nails in the rhythmic sing-songy way we practiced dozens of times in class. My heart dropped, I had to look away to maintain face. Do you know what that means; the mom actually went home and taught her children about hand washing. All talk before about success and results, this child was a real glimpse into the reality of it working. We aren’t totally there until there is a wide spread practice but there is a dam good start. After we check the 80 some households, we found several more children just like the 7 year old girl. It wasn’t enough so im going to put some paint on the walls (aka murals) to remind them to wash their hands and so much more.

We celebrated their accomplishments of the competition with a big party. Decked out with a sound system and a tent, this also included chicken dinner. All the women received prizes of some form. Those with the highest points got prizes starting at 200D ($7) down to the lowest points. Getting 50D ($1.50) prizes. We celebrated and ate a nutritious meal of veggies, meat, and grains.

I put this project in the win column. I keep my chin up as best as I can and I move forward. 

Photo Tour

Schools IN

D-D-Dance!

This is how Africans dance

My Students

(what's next) AIDS Football Tournament

Mini Peace Corps Adventure

After a 6 hour bumpy uncomfortable journey, Sarah and I arrived in Dakar, Senegal. That evening I was picking up my mom in from Los Angeles. Not only would it be my mom’s first time in Africa but it also was her first time meeting my girlfriend, Sarah. Let’s just say I was nervous. But everything went swimmingly. No bags were lost or stolen and I knew just enough French to get us back to the hotel. And yes yes, Sarah and my mom got along great, except for ganging up on me a little bit.

Dakar is one of West Africa’s most metropolitan cities. So Sarah and I eased her into African life. But it was kind of the opposite for Sarah and I. Not having been in a city with buildings over 3 stories since leaving America. Riding an elevator was a new experience again. Don’t even get me started on grocery stores with 20 different types of cereals. We are used to only having one option- corn flakes. We were only in Dakar for 2 days because she wasn’t here to see Dakar, she came to see The Gambia.

So we took what Sarah and I called uncomfortable and my mom called amazing, 6 hour ride to Gambia. We crossed the border and decided to take a taxi instead of local transport back to my village. We would stay only one night this first time being that it was late and its easier to cross the river in the morning time. As we pulled up to the village the taxi started spitting black smoke and spraying fluids, I said, “Welcome to the Gambia!”

It was December 29^th and it was my mom’s birthday. It was my first time in 5 years spending her birthday with her. I think it meant a lot to her but you will have to ask her. The three of us spent the day on the beach just relaxing after many days of traveling.

The coastline of Gambia is not what you expect of a 3^rd world country. Beautiful white sandy beaches with dark blue clean waters. Resorts have capitalized on the natural beauty and started a semi successful tourist track on the coast. The brits call it the budget vacation. It’s like a $100 flight from England and very inexpensive once you have arrived. I told you all that to tell you we stayed at the Sheraton Resort at the cost of the Holiday Inn in New York. HAH. Sarah also partook in our luxury tour of The Gambia. Neither of us had been there before and we were both blown away that this kind of stuff existed in Gambia. At the same time, the staff were blown away that we could speak local language. One staff member almost fell over laughing so hard that Sarah could speak Mandinka. Needless to say we talked more with the staff at the Sheraton than the other guests. In reality, at this point in our lives we had a lot more in common with the staff then the rest of the quests. When it came time to leave we had 3 guards, 2 gardeners, and a driver walk us to the gate of the Sheraton. Gambians are naturally very hospitable people, so what these men were doing was walking us out of their compound as friends that had came to visit. From the Sheraton we went to Sarah’s village, which is one of the poorest regions in Gambia.

There we did what you do in village, relax and greeted(chat/visit)people in village. Sarah’s family taught my mom how to eat with her hands as we all ate from the same food bowl. At nights we played with the kids and sat by the fire (in cold seasons, nights get into the 60s).

Being a mini PC experience it was important for my mom to give something back to the community. She brought graphing calculators to donate to another PCV for her calculus students. This volunteer works at the oldest school in Gambia and one of the only boarding schools in the country. The volunteer is involved in a project to build a math room at the school for tutoring and other math resources. Before my mom donated the calculators there was only one graphing calculator for 10 students. It is so important to contribute to higher levels of education because these are the students that will help shape Gambia. With more highly educated students, Gambia has a great chance for further development.

The last 8 days of my mom’s 3 ½ week visit was in my village. It is customary for a visitor to meet the village elders. So on the second day she was here she walked around to see the alkalo (village leader/chief), the Imam (head of the Muslim mosque) and several village elders whom we would be offending if we didn’t greet them. The head of the women’s group Mam Gaye, was by far the most animated. She started out with a squeal of excitement, 2 kisses and a hug (all being quite abnormal for a Gambian woman.) Then she proceeded to speak really fast, a little too fast for me to translate everything, say how happy she was to have her in her village and what a great job I was doing. Then she started running around the house trying to find something, it you can’t tell, she has a lot of energy for a 60 year old woman. She finally came back with a necklace that she wanted to give to my mom. After that we did some more laying around for the next couple of days. Energy gets zapped really easy here in Africa with the heat and the low calorie intake of food.

While my mom was here we also had to prepare for the opening ceremony of my health school. So that meant going to the weekly market called a lumo, to buy supplies for food. The lumo is a bustling African market full of raw foods and fabric sales for clothes. A place where you see the butcher hacking away at meat on a table on the main market road. Live animal sales are going on at the far end of the market, including sheep, cattle, horse and many more. It’s the kind of place where you can buy colorful African fabrics and have them tailored into anything you like. It’s an ADHD person’s nightmare and an all-in-one shoppers dream. If you can’t get it here you can’t get it anywhere. I actually love going to the lumo because there is such a great energy and social atmosphere. Every time I go I usually make 2 or 3 new friends and it’s not hard to forget me [Queue white joke]. I have a breakfast lady, a fabric guy, and a phone man. The markets in the capital are full of tourist traps and looters. The lumo is full of friendly Gambians looking more for your friendship then your business. So if you are going to buy, you buy it from a friend.

The opening ceremony went great with a little help from me. (One of the PC goals is to be a facilitator, not a worker, several villagers took charge of the program and it went very smoothly).  Gambian Programs are always filled with lengthy speeches and lots of repetition- this one was no different. We had about 2 hours of lengthy speeches and long drawn out thanks. Including my speech in Wolof but mine was very short. Then we ate lunch and most importantly, we danced! No African celebration is complete without clanging pots and pans. With a shortage of real drums they bang on pots and pans but with their amazing abilities you wouldn’t know the difference. Aimee even got up there moving to the beat of the drum with Mom Gaye’s help. She went out with a bang.

Literally, 3 days later she had to get on a plane and fly back to the States. A departure filled with laughter and tears and an imprint of yellow, red, and green in her mind. Don’t be surprised if her English sounds a little weird. That’s just Gambian English. Don’t ask ‘why’ if she asks: How are you? How is the morning? How is your family? How is the work? Peace Only. She is only greeting you. So take it easy on her for a while because she saw those African children that everyone talks about when you don’t finish a meal. But the truth is she knows what their smiles look like.

African Creations

This will challenge me in every day,

It will take my heart and unstitch it.

The fibers of my being will be stretched to their limits,

And there will be nothing left but the bits of my soul.

This will challenge me in every way,

But the drum will replace the rhythm of my heart,

The thatch will bind what has fallen apart.

And my soul will have nothing but a new start.

This has challenged me in every way,

But what challenges me, creates me! 

Willingness

It has been 12 months with about 14 months to go, just about at the half way point. I have adapted to my environment where honestly couldn’t tell sometimes what would be considered normal American behaviors. I think certain kaf-tans (local celebration attire, a mid-thigh shirt with intricate embroidery)  would be quite nice back in America but from what I am told it would not fly.

Adaptation is my body’s natural response to survival and further more thriving in this environment, what 12 months ago was forgotten. Although, I don’t think that I am that different from the general society. I think most of you could do this. Playing to the same cord, just like I think any physically able bodied person can complete a marathon. The most important ingredient being- willingness.

Willingness is to train 3 times a week for 6 months

Willingness is to leave everything you know and move to a new continent.

Willingness is to cut certain foods out of your diet so you have the energy to run 20 miles a week.

Willingness to wear someone else shoes for a change or in the case of Africa, take your shoes off completely.

To be completely honest I am no different than any of you because all humans can adapt. I just might be a tiny bit more willing at times. This is where you might compare yourself to those of us in the Peace Corps, but I challenge you to think differently. Because willingness isn’t moving to Africa, it is accepting a challenge of something that by most standards is considered difficult. Willingness isn’t succeeding but the effort put forth in the attempts to succeed. “To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one’s self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived—this is to have succeeded (Ralph Waldo Emerson).” So go work with children or plant a garden. But if that child doesn’t  smile or the plants die. “Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow.”(Mary Anne Radmacher) This is how I get through my days. What great is that it doesn’t only work in Africa, it works everywhere.