Our Post-Gambia Picture from Main Line Today magazine (with photo albums from the trip)

Dear Reader,

Thank you for visiting. This blog follows the wonderful experience my family had in West Africa during January - March 30, 2007. If you'd like to learn more about that, please go to the archival pages on this blog from those dates.

Right now I am busy working on my forthcoming book about raising children with a global perspective, to feel "at home in the world," particularly utilizing the resources in their home community.

I hope to start blogging more regularly again soon. In the meantime, if you'd like to share any of your family's experiences in gaining a global perspective, or have any favorite traditions or foreign family-friendly films or other material you'd like to share for my book, I'd love to hear about it! Write me at: homatav@gmail.com. Thanks!!

Juicy Inspiration

Today I ran into Whole Foods to pick up a sandwich and decided to splurge and get an exotic drink – maybe an iced green tea with ginger and ginseng. What a surprise to find “Adina” brand Hibiscus Lemon Cooler “Bissap”. Bissap was our favorite drink and favorite “ice” (popsicle) in the Gambia! I even brought a bag of the dried flowers back with me in my suitcase to make my own bissap in the U.S.

Sophia was with me and we both let out a surprised cheer amidst the serious lunch crowd. After grabbing a bottle she noted the “Gambian lady” on the label carrying the hibiscus flowers on a bucket on her head. I scanned all the interesting information on the label: “Our brilliant red hibiscus is sourced through women’s cooperatives in Senegal.” (Gambia’s borders lie within Senegal and they share the same culture(s).) And all the ingredients were pure and yummy.

The other side of the label told a great story:
“Oumi is out picking hibiscus blossoms when she hears the first drumbeat. The festival begins tonight and she’s going to make Bissap, the national drink of Senegal, for the whole village. Oumi blends the hibiscus infusion with a squeeze of lemon and hands a glass to her grandmother. “Mmm!” she exclaims, “it make me feel like dancing!”
Gathered from around the world our recipes have been passed on from generation to generation using the wisdom of native plants.
Adina is committed to working with small farmers and spreading the vision of fair trade practices.
Free downloads at www.adinamusic.com!
At Adina we believe that juice and music should tango… That is why we created Adina Music for you to explore the rhythms of the world and give artists a Fair Share.
Adina means LIFE!!”

I bought out the supply of three bottles I found in their fridge and got a deal, because, sadly, the product is being discontinued at my Whole Foods store. The company shares its own interesting story on their website: www.adinaworld.com. It was great fun bringing home this surprise to Layla, Anisa and Alex and we had it as a treat with dinner. Now that we’re back, we keep running into products that have a connection – though never this strong – with our experiences in Africa, like the mini-skirt L & A liked at American Eagle made with the type of eyelet material found in traditional Gambian fabric stores.

More than anything, it made our day to see one of our favorite things from Africa packaged so nicely at our local store, reminding us of the creative people who bring our world closer together – whether it’s through juice or mini-skirts or documentaries. It tasted good, too.

Lives Well Lived

After a day like yesterday I am reminded again how fortunate my children are to be part of a public school community that goes to great lengths – with support from monumental volunteer efforts – to inspire, inform and enlighten our children to follow their dreams and reach way beyond themselves. It was the culminating day in a year-long themed program called Lives Well Lived. A talented group putting in huge effort pulled this off seamlessly. It’s the kind of program that makes me really appreciate living in America, where my children can benefit from this kind of inspired energy, where there are abundant individuals who have been able to pursue their dreams in such diverse forms, and where people feel honored to take time out to talk to kids about it. (And to top it off, other volunteers supplied a beautiful luncheon and hospitality, stimulating an environment for the speakers, staff and volunteers to get to know each others’ life work and interests.)

I was originally going to write a THANK YOU note to the organizers, but I decided instead I’d shout it from the rooftops – and this blog is the closest thing I have to that.

“In its 8th year, the T/E Middle School PTO sponsors a series of year-long programs to expose students to extraordinary examples of the human spirit who live among us and allow students to draw their own conclusions about choices and behaviors in their own lives” (from the brochure, available at http://www.tesd.k12.pa.us/tems/lwl.pdf). I participated as one of the 40+ speakers invited to share my experiences around this year’s theme ‘Imagine That – “Dare to Dream! Live Your Dream!”’

Other speakers ranged from authors and bakers to scientists, veterinarians, conductors, athletes, international volunteers, local TV personalities, yogis, and an ultra-marathoner, who recently ran the Sahara Desert (and who also blogged the experience for philly.com).

The kids were noticeably moved by many of the presentations and I felt an excitement in the air throughout the school, all day long. Most importantly, I heard both girls and boys express that the day had actually “inspired” them.

Returning

We’ve been home five days and I can’t bring myself to write my thoughts about returning from our long journey. Mainly, it’s because I’m not sure what they are. In many ways we’re just picking up right where we left off: school started on Monday; we froze outside watching a girls’ softball game that same evening; Sophia re-joined her tiny ballerinas’ class at the Y on Tuesday, and now I drive a mini-van.

In other ways it’s like we’ve descended from another planet. I went to Costco on my first day back (am I crazy?!) where acquaintances I ran into were talking about how tired they were from the grueling trip back from Orlando or Hilton Head for Spring Break and I couldn’t bring myself to say “well, if you think that’s bad, I just returned from Africa…for 3 months…alone with my children…”

Things seem sort of same-old, same-old – until any of us open our mouths to talk. Like when Sophia rolls her “L’s” with a slight Gambian accent and casually mentions how there is no electricity in her schoollll in Africa -- “but we don’t need it, because there’s lots of sunshine” – or when Anisa clarifies points about everyday life to baffled classmates who can’t believe she lived in Africa and she’s actually home in one piece.

I can see the new perspective in the kids – mostly in unexpected places. On last night’s American Idol they gave a preview of their “Idol Gives Back” show, with Simon in Africa. Layla and Anisa perked up to see this, and then reacted: 1) why do they just say Simon and Ryan went to Africa, and not the actual country they were in? and 2) the school uniforms the needy girls were wearing actually looked pretty nice and new, not like what we had seen at the public school; so the “neediness” seems very relative.

I’m going to try to process the transition back and then write more for this blog. For now, it’s all too fresh to know what to make of the return home. But I know this: as wonderful as the trip was, it is nice to be back home.

De-Parting Thoughts

It’s 1:45 a.m. and I have just finished packing. I feel too wound up to sleep. So I’m in bed, under the mosquito net, with Sophia fast asleep next to me, trying to sort through my thoughts as we embark on our final day during this “Long Stay in Africa,” as the Inquirer calls it.

The feeling that most strongly rises to the top is gratitude. For the past week I have been carrying this thought foremost in my mind – and am constantly amazed by the good fortune we have encountered at every step of this trip. None of us got really sick; we have always felt safe; the kids had excellent school experiences; our volunteer efforts were profoundly meaningful to us and we have found ways to sustain some of the work; we’ve met so many amazing people that I need to organize my notes to list all of them; we’ve made some truly close friends; and we’ve learned so much about this corner of the world that we are just starting to realize how much we don’t know.

A whole tome about gratitude needs to be written to begin to describe the patient, forgiving, wise, and generous hospitality of Sherry and Bozorg and the family who facilitated every aspect of the care and comfort for us boisterous girls.

I’m also grateful for writing this blog. Philly.com and all your comments (to the blog and especially, the countless ones directly to me) gave me the impetus to force myself to sit down and write my take on the sights, sounds, and feelings evoked each day in this different & not-so-different place. Once I’m home, I hope to really-actually-no kidding keep up this momentum and take my book to the next step. (Any comments or thoughts on that are WELCOME.)

As we were in the thick of packing this afternoon, Layla approached me with a serious question: “When do you think we can come back?” They can’t wait – but next time, we’re coming with daddy!

We’ll be home in about one week (after a long stop-over in England and France) and I’ll keep up with the blog for a while to record our transition back. I look forward to seeing many of you then, and will miss so many of you across the ocean.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Recognized

Sophia at the school's neighborhood well. She's with some of the
many neighborhood kids we've gotten to know.


Earlier today I experienced something amazing. As I drove through the area near the house after dropping off Sophia at school, I waved to what seemed like a hundred children on their way to the school where I’ve been volunteering. I knew them, and they called out my name as we passed each other. No more “toubob, toubob” (“white person, white person”). We have a relationship. It felt like a going-away present.

Madame Speaker

Me with the Speaker of the House, the Honorable Fatoumata Jahumpa Ceesay
and MP member, Seiko Susso, who arranged the meeting.

Madame Speaker

On Wednesday I had the honor of spending about an hour with the Gambia’s Speaker of the Parliament (House), Fatoumata Jahumpa Ceesay. She’s set the record for many firsts in her country, starting with being the first woman to be deputy mayor of Banjul in 1989. There have been other female Acting Speakers of the House, but she’s the first permanent one. This is a Presidential appointment in the Gambia and Mrs. Jahumpa Ceesay cited a long list of initiatives that President Jammeh has taken to advance women, from appointing more female cabinet secretaries to making primary education for girls free of charge for the first time in the nation’s history.

She spent twenty years working in journalism and as an activist for women and children’s rights. Today, she’s considered one of the best managers of the work of the House, where the membership is comprised of 49 men and 5 women. She’s passionate about her mission and also is a grandmother, like our own American first female Speaker of the House.

Gatekeeper

Pa Calipha and his bow and arrow from Guinnea Bissau. He told me that in some areas of his country, locals fear the bow and arrow more than the gun

We will miss Pa Calipha. He is the respected, regal statured, 75-year old watchman living at our compound.

When I began to drive here, I reflexively reached above the windshield visor for the garage door opener (I think I’ve seen one house in the country with a garage). Then I remembered I need to honk the horn twice and within a few minutes, Pa Calipha is there to open the gate.

My girls and I communicate with him using basic greetings in Wolof or English and the universal “Salam-Aleikum.” Beyond this we use sign language. He speaks his native Fula and learned Wolof after arriving in the Gambia.

Pa Calipha is from Guinea Bissau, a former Portuguese colony, where he was a farmer and trader and also was among those fighting for independence. He is from a chief class that might have seemed a threat to the ruling party after independence; so, twenty years ago he came to live in the Gambia. He lost his three brothers in the independence war. He says this makes the prospect of returning to his hometown too painful to consider, in spite of the fact that in his own country he would be much better off, as he would have land, and importantly, family.

Adviser-Healer-Guide-Counselor

Throughout the day we see men and women of all ages seeking out Pa Calipha. He’s not quite a marabout (according to himself) but he has studied the Quran, he interprets dreams, advises about peoples’ present and future and gives out traditional prescriptions involving various charms, similar to my previous posting about “Stones in the Road.” He also described how he prays for peoples’ particular problems, particularly legal ones. I asked if he knew how effective the prayers and charms have been, and he said: “Too many cases have worked for me to count them.”

Great Big Love

Wife 1 and Wife 2, who "get along like sisters."

Polygamy is a common and accepted practice here. If I mention that it is illegal in the United States, I’m usually met with looks of surprise or bewilderment. A New York Times article on March 23, “In Secret, Polygamy Follows Africans to N.Y.,” (http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/23/nyregion/23polygamy.html) even mentions a Gambian. The issue came to the forefront with the tragic Bronx fire involving members of a Malian family where polygamy was practiced.

Aside from traditional cultural practices, polygamy is justified by a verse in the Quran which states that it is acceptable to have more than one wife, if they can all be treated equally. To western eyes, perhaps hundreds of years ago, when there was a shortage of men (due, for example, to wars and long journeys) and women had no way of fending for themselves, polygamy could be justified. In this era, I think the verse is a challenge even to many believers: it seems impossible to treat multiple wives equally. A wise person could say “why don’t you walk from the U.S. to Africa” or “walk to the moon.” But you know full well that it is logically not possible to do either of these – just like it is not possible to treat multiple wives equally. I advocate cultural diversity and preservation, but I also believe that there is a limit to acceptable traditional practices that affect human lives, like female genital mutilation (also very common in the Gambia) and polygamy.

Past-Present-Polygamy

I’ve come across some interesting examples of accomplished women who tell me they have no problem being the second wife.

The Gambian deputy head mistress of the primary school where we volunteer is a second wife (I’ll call her W2). I met the first wife (W1), who sells food at the school, thanks to arrangements made by W2. W2 described that she could never have had children and continued in her career, if it weren’t for the assistance of W1, who wet-nursed W2’s children and cared for them while she went to work. So, while W2 earned income to feed the family, W1 took care of the domestic side. The husband, incidentally, was not even mentioned in this arrangement. After decades of living together, these women have found a way to get along, and perhaps it’s easier without involving him too much.

Another example is that of a few educated European women. In some ways, it’s seen on anthropologic terms: this is an age-old practice, so don’t try to change native culture. One Northern European woman described her situation to me: “Like so many European women, I wanted a career, and by the time I was ready for a family, it was hard to find a compatible man; I was set in my ways and wanted to remain independent. By marrying a man I love who already has a wife to care for him on a daily basis (in a rural area), I can remain in town, have children, and we can see each other on weekends. And I don’t have so many domestic responsibilities. This is an ideal situation for me, and my children are part of a large immediate and extended family.”

I digested this perspective for days. I couldn’t believe that I knew a modern, European woman who seemed perfectly happy being the “weekend wife.”

Not So Easy

These are a few examples of people who tell me they are happy in the moment with their living arrangement. It’s really about that: a living arrangement. It’s not as much about a fulfilling marriage. My African friends have told me that it cannot be a fulfilling marriage in the modern sense of the word. It’s a necessity, due to poverty, and to a lesser extent, tradition. The European example goes back to a living arrangement, and is a definite exception. Among the successful African businesswomen I know, they say “no way” will they stand their husbands taking another wife.

One of the biggest problems I see with the practice (especially in the urban areas) is the fact that there are no boundaries for married men. If they have the material resources to pay a “bride price” (brides are essentially bought), then any girl over the age of 13 or 14 is fair game, regardless of the man’s age. (I spoke with a man in his 70’s who is ready to “take another wife,” the younger the better, and obviously, she must be able to bear children.) It’s also easier to “discard” a wife who doesn’t produce children or fulfill her husband in other ways. Whereas in the west, married men would have clandestine affairs riddled by guilt, here, it is possible to be out in the open with multiple families. Some even consider this more pious, as it gives a man more opportunity to father additional children.

Then there are the health implications, like the spread of STD’s. Having multiple wives increases the spread of HIV and AIDS. Domestic abuse is correlated with a household with multiple wives. There is much frustration, rivalry, and limited resources to feed everyone, so it’s easiest to take out aggravations on the many women and children in the home compound. At the school where I volunteer, every child I asked said that they see their fathers or uncles hitting their mothers and other female family members.

There is much policy and academic research on this subject and it is very complex and emotional. This blog entry – longer than my usual ones – can not treat this subject in depth, but it’s such an important phenomenon in this environment that I needed to write a little about it.

One organization based in Washington, DC, the Tahirih Justice Center, helps women who are fleeing various forms of persecution in their home countries. It started with the asylum case of Fauziya Kasinga of Togo, fleeing forced female genital mutilation, and helped to set legal precedent for women to gain asylum due to gender-based persecution. Since then the Center has helped hundreds of women from around the world. You can find out more at: http://www.tahirih.org/.

Eco-Inspiration

Circular design of the new beach-front resort under construction south of Banjul. The entire project is created based on sustainable development principles.

Alfred - "the man who makes our dreams reality" - the project manager; with Maurice & Geri, in front of the "Queen of the Mangrove" giant heron, the symbol of Sandale Bay

When Alex was coming to visit us, he flew next to an English gentleman who is pouring his heart into turning an ecological dream into a reality. Maurice could easily be spending his time in retirement and rest, but he and his life partner have decided to dedicate their material resources and personal energy into creating an eco-tourism resort that embodies beauty and tranquility with state-of-the-art engineering and sound use of local renewable resources. The result is their soon-to-be-opened Sandale Bay Eco-Retreat at the southern tip of the Gambia’s coast.

Maurice invited our whole family to visit their labor of love under construction, and they’ve been good friends to us since our third week here.

Not Just Environmental

The eco-resort isn’t just good for the environment. It’s good for the whole community. Profits will be shared with the local village. Everything from food to furnishings and building bricks are sourced from local, low-impact materials, creating opportunities for skills training and income generation. About 70 percent of the employees will come from the local community and assistance will be provided for villagers to start their own businesses. At the end of the 25-year lease, the entire resort is given back to the community from which it was built. The place already has begun serving as an international training center for eco-tourism, international development, and even hosts yoga retreats and inter-faith meetings.

After about ten years in the Gambia (where they run another hotel, the Safari Garden, which is a hang-out for lots of interesting people visiting or staying in the country) Maurice and Geri also work actively in other organizations for Gambian development. They have become experts in how to work best in the local environment and culture. They also are great examples of how to not lose idealism while making the world a better place.

Gambia – No Problem

Some of the guys (and kids) push-starting the car

The Gambia’s motto is “Africa’s Smiling Coast.” I also often hear “Gambia – No Problem.” As our days in Africa are winding down, it occurs to me that there is much behind these slogans.

On Thursday, the mottos rang so true, as twice on the road the Pathfinder wouldn’t start, and people all around – as if emerging from the woodwork – came out to help. The car needed to be push-started with some muscle and some finesse, so lots of guys came to the rescue to push and the first time, a driver for a bank, and the second time, a taxi driver, stopped everything to make sure I was safely back on the road. As I thanked people during the process I repeatedly heard “no problem” and “Gambia – No Problem.”

I kept thinking “What a great place to have your car break-down.” This is another example of the local strengths. These people who helped me may not have had great means, but their generous spirit shines through. Everyone pulls together and no one is left stranded.

Fashionistas

Chan with me wearing the dress she had made for me, at the wedding

The first day I met Ida and Chan, after the Parliamentary opening, next to my car

When I attended the opening of Parliament, two women in the audience caught my eye: they were dressed strikingly, with gorgeous hair and make-up capping their elegant ensembles. Then, as I was going back to my car after the program, I saw the two of them walking past my car. I called out to them, and we started talking. Since that day, we have become friends.

Chan and Ida are two of the most prominent fashion designers and dressmakers in the country. They are savvy businesswomen with a thriving clientele and employ scores of tailors and others to support their businesses. When I went to the Youssou N’dor concert, it was their designs in the fashion show. They also do the clothing for women in prominent positions, like first ladies and Ambassadors, throughout West Africa, with their signature Sene-Gambian style.

I’ve been most impressed by how genuine they both have been. Ida apprenticed under Chan for two years and then started her own business. (Chan is a family friend, and was the first dressmaker in the country to have her own shop separate from her home, over twenty years ago)They both loved sewing as teens, made their own clothes and would give or sell them to friends. I tried to understand how the now-competitors preserve their relationship. They both spoke with me (separately and together) as if it was totally natural. On some projects, like decorating the Parliament hall, they act as partners. They are dear friends and that is the most important thing. Ida even named her first child, a daughter, after Chan.

I’ve been wanting a local dress. Before I even mentioned this to Chan, she suggested, one day at her home (where the door is always open and friends are constantly in and out), that she wanted to make me something. She’s the one who invited us to the wedding a few weeks ago and I needed something formal to wear. She had a very special hand-died fabric from Mali that she wanted to use and we talked about the potential design for about 90 seconds. However much I insisted, she would not allow me to pay for the dress. The result far surpassed my expectations and I can’t wait to wear it to something fancy in Philly. More than that, it’s a great memento of a new, dear friend, and the qualities of elegance and generosity that she embodies in so many ways.

Micro-Entrepreneurs

Isatou Jatta, entrepreneur, and Foday Bojang, VISACA Loan Officer

The girls and I had some African dresses made in time for our Baha’i and Persian New Year (which falls on the first day of spring) by a friend at the Brikama market. In order to try on the dresses we needed to leave the tailor’s alley and were led to an unmarked office across from the market where we could close a door to try on the pieces (no mirror, though, we acted as each other’s mirrors).

As we emerged from the room we were introduced to the people whose office we occupied. It turned out this was the local VISACA branch. VISACA is the Village Savings and Credit Association. This is the Gambian non-profit that works with micro-enterprises for finance, credit and savings.

Micro-finance is an important force in economic development in poor communities all over the world, and the VISACA is part of that movement. This past year’s Nobel Peace Prize winner, Muhammad Yunus of Bangladesh, is a pioneer in micro-credit and finance. Eighteen years ago I worked on this issue in Kenya.

Layla and Anisa waited patiently with our Gambian friend from the market while I spoke to a woman who had come in to deposit her savings from the month. She is a baobab ice vendor at the military barracks near the airport and began her business just over three years ago. With the loan officer translating her Mandinka into English, she said that her life has noticeably improved since starting her business. She sells each ice for 1 dalassi, or about 3.5 cents. If she’s lucky, she’ll make $2 per day. At the barracks she rents a fridge in which to freeze her treats. She hopes that in the not-too-distant future she will be able to take out a loan from VISACA so that she can pay to get her home set-up for electricity to make the ices in her own home. This would allow her to spend more time with her family, and be able to expand her business. (Wiring for electricity at her home will cost about 50,000 dalassis, or just under $2,000 – that’s a lot of ices to be sold!)

Roots Tour

Outside the museum of slavery

Approaching James Island by boat. This island is about 20% of its original size, as it is sinking in the river.

"Cute Kids; Several Tourists: Welcome. To Roots. Nursery. School. We are Seeking. For Donations. To Complete our Store. And. To Complete Our Toilet. Thank you. Very Much."

On Monday I had Layla and Anisa play hooky from school for what should have been the ultimate educational experience: the Roots tour. We’ve generally avoided the tourist scene in the Gambia, but the big exception we’ve been planning is “Roots” – comprised of traveling from the Atlantic Ocean port of Banjul up the Gambia River by boat to the village of Juffure, traced by Alex Haley as Kunta Kinte’s home, and then to James Island, the last spot in Africa that newly captured slaves would be brutally held before being shipped to America.

Getting There:

Getting there was its own minor journey. After considerable car trouble, we left the Pathfinder at the side of a major road and got in to the next taxi which dropped us at the port gates. The girls and I panted through the shipyards to a large boat that was just ready to leave the dock as we waved it down (itself an experience!). From there we had a lovely ride about two hours up river: enough time to catch our breath, relax, read, and enjoy the scenery around the immense, fabled river. While Layla was reading a surreal high-tech thriller, I had Roots (Layla finished it last week), and Anisa thumbed through The Rough Guide to the Gambia.

As she read, Anisa would periodically let out a small gasp, then a comment like “that is so mean.” The Rough Guide described the Roots experience as “rather overrated” and warned we might be “frustrated.” Based on her experiences of most other things in the country, Anisa thought this sounded too harsh. But the moment we hit land at the village, we saw what the Rough Guide was describing.

Tourist Trap:

As we descended the boat, local “bumsters” (guys mostly in their 20’s who are in the business of befriending tourists) began asking us our names and country of origin, with the transparent goal of securing a “gift” from the tourists (or, ultimately, starting a relationship that might lead to a ticket to Europe or the US). Heading down the dock to the monument for the slaves, the crowd got bigger. Children were grabbing our hands, mothers with small children thrust them upon us to have us take the child’s picture for a fee, and others were hawking school supplies and lollipops so that the tourists he could give them to the schoolchildren (and most likely, re-sell them over and over). It gets so bad that tour operators have someone to “shoo” away these people, but they are ignored.

Then we walked in the village toward the National Museum of Slavery, which the guide told us “you have ten minutes and five seconds to look inside.” On the way we passed two pre-schools in which children had been set up outside to sing for the tourists. In front of them was a large donation box and another large bag to place non-cash gifts, like school supplies. Photos with the kids were extra. After a twenty minute break to buy drinks (twice the amount of time for the museum), we headed toward the compound home of Kunte Kinte’s purported descendents.

An elderly woman sat under a canopy with the tourists around her while the guide described the TV mini-series and passed around yellowed photos of LeVar Burton as Kunta Kinte. For a donation we were welcome to take a picture with the descendant. Then we walked to another compound, accompanied by the crowd hounding for money and shouts of “toubob, toubob” (“white person, white person”) where another elderly woman was sitting under a canopy. She was the first female chief in the village and for another donation we could have a picture with her. The final stop was to the craft market for memorabilia. At one point Layla and Anisa both commented that this was the first place we’ve been in the country where we didn’t see anyone working on anything.

Alternative Guilt Trip:

If anyone is going to travel specifically to the Gambia for a Roots Tour – what some consider a pilgrimage – they should be aware of how commercialized this experience has become. Don’t come with a tour group (we actually didn’t know we were – we went on our own to an independently-operated boat and found a busload of British and Dutch tourists already on board); travel in the later afternoon when the tours have finished; and camp the night in the village so you can meet authentic people. Rough Guide has some suggestions for doing this.

This tour has not always been like this. I visited fifteen years ago, and other locals who had done the tour even just a few years ago did not experience so much harassment.

All of this might be a natural outgrowth of years of tourism among poverty. If you were very poor and saw people who had enough money to take an exotic vacation, wouldn’t you rush to them and do your best to extract whatever you could? Maybe. But perhaps if a meaningful experience were to be set up, utilizing rich aspects of the local culture, like the singing story-teller griots described in Roots and still very much alive today; or dramatic presentations on the life of the village then and now; or dancing and music from the Mandinka tradition; or some interactive demonstrations of the harrowing experience of being stolen from one’s home and loved ones and the ensuing brutality, a great deal more understanding and goodwill (not to mention economic development) could be generated. It’s unfortunate that most of those tourists were eager to leave the village, and probably will not return for that tour.

Preserving and presenting a somewhat more authentic experience for foreign tourists may not be as easy, but it would be worth it. Many local jobs could be generated, as well as long-term ties among those touched by the experience.

Remembering slavery and contributing to the sustainable development of a region where the legacy of slavery is still alive should be among the lasting effects of the Roots journey, not the feeling of wanting to flee a harassing experience. These are two very different types of “guilt trips.”

McMansions

All around the suburban area outside Banjul near where we stay, we see a construction boom. Big, impressive, Romanesque, Moroccan or California-style stucco houses seem to be sprouting up everywhere behind high walls. Gambian friends have commented that many of these houses are being built for Gambians who have gone abroad (especially to America) to work. Local salaries rarely fund that kind of construction. It doesn’t really matter what kind of work they do abroad. Even if it’s what we consider menial labor in the U.S., enterprising immigrants are able to save enough that when they return home they will be kings of their new castles. Another sign of this phenomenon are the numerous Western Union billboards, encouraging people to use their company to send back the money that is made abroad. Foreign remittances form an important fuel for growing the local economy.

Power Crusade

Kathryn donating blood for hospital patient last summer


Hospital director, Mr. Kebba Badjie, next to drying bedsheets and washing buckets, with the hospital building in the background

A few days before leaving for the Gambia, my girls and I met the 20 year old daughter of a fellow Chester County Fund for Women and Girls’ Board member. Kathryn Cunningham, a pre-med student at U. Penn had spent the summer in the Gambia – so the unlikely connection was exciting to both the Cunningham’s and my family.

My girls and I were expecting to have a nice chat with an interesting local resident who could fill us in on details of her experience in West Africa. But Kathryn was on a mission. After volunteering at one of the four major hospitals in the country, she came home determined to find a way to supply the Sulayman Jungkung General Hospital with a continuous source of power.

The Problem:

While the hospital serves about 20,000 patients per year, has a total staff of about 200 people and was built just four years ago, it has a power supply just ten hours per day. Limited government funds pay for fuel to run two generators five hours during the daytime and five hours at night (maximum).

This means that surgeries can be performed two days per week. Refrigeration is intermittent, so live vaccines, blood and certain medicines can not be stored. Incubation for premature infants is unavailable. And there is no continuous running water. Without the running water supply, proper hygiene at all levels is compromised, from laundering bedsheets, towels and gowns of medical personnel, to cleaning used instruments. Also, the temperature of the village of Bwiam, about 60 miles south of Banjul (and a world away), is even hotter than where I’m staying near the coast, so inside temperatures can exceed 100 degrees. With 60-80 percent of the patients inflicted with fever from malaria, relief from the heat would mean so much, as would quick diagnosis, which is only possible during the hours there is power.

Power-Up Gambia

When Kathryn returned from her life-changing summer experience at the hospital – where she donated her own blood to keep a hemorrhaging woman alive after a stillbirth, helped deliver babies, and watched a 3.5 pound full-term infant die due to lack of an incubator – she knew she had to do something. In just a few months’ time she has built a fundraising campaign and organization called Power-Up Gambia to be able to supply enough solar panels (or other appropriate forms of power) for a continuous supply of power to the hospital. She’s recruited a capable and committed Board of Directors, a strong technical team and is talking to anyone and everyone with government, business or familial connections that could lead to helping raise an adequate level of funds (about $300,000).

She’s also gotten agreement from the Delaware Community Foundation to serve as the non-profit fiscal agent. Such community foundations usually exclusively fund local projects; Kathryn’s a local resident and gotten them to see the need for supporting something in Africa. This means that US donors can receive a tax deduction and that a professional, experienced organization will manage the financial end of the project. It takes creativity, profound commitment and chutzpah to build this sort of momentum.

Since I’ve arrived in the Gambia, I receive emails from Kathryn a few times a week, asking if I can check on a detail, or meet someone, or find someone who can provide the information, and I’m more than happy to do so. Along with her questions, she usually reports on some exciting development, like getting their website on-line: http://www.powerupgambia.org/; or holding a launch event where Gambia’s former US Ambassador, George Haley, brother of Alex Haley, traveled from Washington to attend; or receiving strong interest from the local Rotary Club or associates of a former US President for the project.

The Skeptics

I’ve encountered a number of people locally who meet this project skeptically. There are so many needs in the country, why focus on that? It’s common to have inadequate electricity. She’s just a 20 year-old girl, what can she do? This is a government-run hospital, how can they ensure the funds will be used appropriately, or why support a government institution? And, importantly, how can she be sure that the solar panels or other electricity source will be maintained over the years and properly used?

Local expat’s are the most skeptical. They’ve seen so much money go down the drain, and perhaps settled in Africa because they themselves were idealistic and young years ago, like Kathryn herself. Some of their concerns are legitimate, but Kathryn and her organization are aware of these concerns and trying to learn from the mistakes of the past. So, they are doing all they can to safeguard, without losing zeal and hope.

Next Steps

Having traveled to the hospital and talked to lots of people in the country about this, I’m convinced that this is a more than worthwhile effort. If the 24/7 power they aspire to will save even just 100 lives per year, it also will instill hope in residents of that region, and possibly create greater goodwill between Gambians and Americans.

Among other ancillary initiatives, they’re also starting a pen pals program, to link children in the Gambia and the US.

Browse around http://www.powerupgambia.org/. And if you would like to contribute, you can send a tax-deductible gift to the Delaware Community Foundation on-line, or mail it to PO Box 1636; Wilmington, DE 19899. On the memo line write Sulayman Jungkung General Hospital Project, or SJGH Project.

I’d love to know what you think about this…

Glad-Handing

My girls reminded me today how much I’ve changed in being protective toward them. First, we shake everyone’s hands – everyone’s – wherever we go. There’s no barrier of class or race or gender or what they just finished handling; it’s the first, basic common courtesy. Sophia (3) even knows, thanks to the good examples of other young children, that she is expected to shake hands with anyone we meet. The first couple weeks I carried hand wipes or hand sanitizer with me (to use discreetly after hand shaking). But I haven’t had wipes or sanitizer in my purse in months. We haven’t gotten sick, either. I think we’re all stronger for it…

Convenience Boutik

Babukar in his well stocked boutik

Across from the Marina International School sits the most efficiently packed convenience store (the African version of a “bodega”) I’ve ever seen. In the space of a good sized powder room you can buy all your grocery essentials, school supplies, local and imported junk food (Anisa likes the Kool-Aid Jammers and pink bubble gum she now calls “blow ups”), phone cards and too many other things to list here. Merchandise is packed wall-to-wall, all the way to the ceiling, several rows deep so only the shopkeeper can help customers.

The proprietor, Babukar, is known by all the kids at school. He even makes fresh sandwiches to order. Chocolate or sweetened condensed milk on a warm tapalapa bread (like a French baguette) costs 5D (about $0.15) for a 9-inch piece, and a “pirty” sandwich - corned chicken, lettuce, mayo, ketchup, and an egg if you want, costs about $0.90 for an 18 inch tapalapa. These local “boutiks” are on almost every block, in every neighborhood – though maybe not as elaborate as Babukar’s.

Women selling their prepared foods around the school pick-up line create lots of competition for Babukar’s boutique. Wan-Jo Ices (hibiscus flower juice popsicle in a baggie – Layla and Sophia’s favorite); the “mango thing” made with unripe mangos mixed with dried and ground local hot peppers and salt and sugar; ebbe – spicy crab and various fishes, cassava, and palm oil (a definite acquired taste, but a local favorite) – also served in a plastic baggie; and various cut-up fruits like mangos, lemons and local “caba” (sweet and sour, no English translation for this) made to order with sugar, Jumbo (flavor-enhancer like a bouillon cube – a staple in almost all cooking here) and/or hot pepper are all popular. It all makes a bag of potato chips seem quite boring.

No Bullets

Sorry that bullet points don’t come through when the blog text uploads. There should be lots of bullet points to follow the interview with the Ambassador.

Conversation with the American Ambassador – Part II

Photo from Gambia Government website, September 2004: First official meeting between Ambassador Joseph Stafford and Gambian President Jammeh:

www.statehouse.gm/new-usambass-credence.htm

Ambassador Stafford stated that his biggest challenge is “to take the array of US interests here: democracy and human rights, economic cooperation, military cooperation, humanitarian assistance, combating HIV/AIDS, public diplomacy, counterterrorism” and be able to devote adequate attention to these difference interests. The Embassy employs a small team of both Americans and Gambians who do their best to carry out programs around the various priorities.

US Policy Priorities:

“First and foremost is promoting democracy and respect for human rights. [This is] linked importantly to other interests.” They do this by maintaining a dialogue with key stakeholders: the host government, civil society and human rights activists. Sometimes they’ll host a reception and speech on international human rights day, or organize and support a reception for journalists, or serve as election monitors.
Promoting economic development and strengthening economic cooperation. This takes the form of generally encouraging trade and US investment here. The Africa Growth and Opportunity Act (AGOA) encourages exports from the Gambia and the region to the US. Peace Corps is woven in to the economic development work as well. Since the 1960’s they have continuously provided technical and other assistance at the grassroots level.
Aid: Since the early-mid 1990s (since the most recent coup d’etat) there is no resident bilateral mission in the Gambia, but the programs continue on a smaller scale locally through the regional office in Accra, Ghana. The funded programs are:
Self-help programs at the grassroots (no elaboration on what these are).
Democracy-related programs, like the training for journalists.
HIV/AIDS – working with local NGO’s to provide publicity for prevention; assistance in offering voluntary counseling and testing.
Seminars for exporters on AGOA rules.
Scholarships for 700-800 (cumulative over the past few years) high school girls to pay public school fees.
Refugee assistance.
School feeding program through Catholic Relief Services, one of the most important partner organizations with the American aid program.
Food Aid, which has been suspended this year because of graver emergency situations elsewhere.

US Military provides training to Gambian military officers in the US and offers construction funding for the Gambian army and surplus office furnishings and medical equipment, as well as an HIV prevention program (remember the soldier in the condom billboard?!).

Conversation with the American Ambassador – Part I

On Monday I was notified that the State Department in Washington had approved my request and to interview the American Ambassador to the Gambia for my blog, and that I could come in the following day (yesterday). I had met Ambassador Joseph Stafford at an event a few weeks earlier and he offered for me to come in and speak with him about any questions I had, but it would have to be off the record until approval was received. Because I wanted to share the outcome of our discussion, I waited until it could be official. We were joined at the interview by Ms. Pat Alsupp, the Deputy Chief of Mission.

Ambassador Stafford grew up in Oklahoma and has been serving in the Foreign Service for almost thirty years, with posts mainly in North Africa. According to his official bio, he spent 1979 in Tehran at the US Embassy (the year American hostages were taken) as a Consular officer. As a result of his postings in places like Mauritania and Algeria he speaks classical Arabic. This is his second position in Sub-Saharan Africa, following his previous post as Deputy Chief of Mission in Abidjan, Cote D’Ivoire.

General Impressions of the Gambia:

The Ambassador observed first that this is a country with a great deal of religious tolerance, a sense of stability and social peace, and that it has avoided the social turmoil found throughout West Africa. It’s got hospitable people, a fascinating cultural and ethnic mosaic, and is making progress in terms of development. The Gambian Government is accessible to him and to the Embassy in general. To top it off, it’s a “pretty agreeable” place to live.

Public Diplomacy:

The issue of public diplomacy has taken prominence in recent years following rising anti-American sentiment with the current war in Iraq, so the effort to reach out and win the “hearts and minds” campaign for the US is an important one.

He feels the Gambia “is a fertile environment for public diplomacy” and that there is “a reservoir of pro-US feeling.” This is due to a combination of admiration for US democratic institutions, economic strength and technology, along with the sheer number of Gambians who have lived or studied in the US.

The type of work that is carried out to advance public diplomacy takes a number of forms, primarily:
Addressing high school and university students about American policy in Africa. Various Embassy officials give these talks at least once per month.
Outreach to the Muslim community, by hosting a dinner at the Ambassador’s residence to break the Ramadan fast, consulting with religious leaders, distributing information on the life of the Muslim community in the US at various receptions, and promoting travel by religious leaders for first-hand exposure to the US through various educational exchanges.
Connecting the African with the African-American community. This is done primarily by holding programs for Black History Month. This year the Embassy hosted the screening of the 2-Part PBS documentary “African American Lives” at the “American Corner” at the Gambian National Library in which 35-40 people attended. The “Roots” connection also is important in this regard. Every other year a “Roots Festival” has been held in the Gambia (not sponsored by the US Embassy or US Government), in which hundreds of African-Americans visit the Gambia and engage in grassroots assistance. These travelers serve as informal goodwill ambassadors and when the Embassy does “come across these delegations [they’ll] include them in representational events that [they] host.”
Peace Corps presence: there are about 100 Peace Corps volunteers that serve as representatives of the US (unofficially) at the village level throughout the Gambia. Their consistent and important role in creating a positive image of Americans abroad cannot be overstated.

The US government-sponsored development programs also play a role in public diplomacy and will be included in the continuation of the interview in tomorrow’s blog.

Common-Wealth

Girls sharing their meals and enjoying the party

Yesterday at public elementary schools across the Gambia, Commonwealth Day was celebrated, to commemorate the shared heritage of former British colonies ranging from the Gambia to India and Canada. At the Lower Basic School where we regularly tutor, the children wore their best clothes instead of the usual uniforms and packed small pots of food for the main activity of the day – eating.

All classes had been suspended for the festivities, which began with an all-school assembly. The children lined up by class in the courtyard in full sun proctored by an adult carrying a light stick, ready to strike anyone who got unruly.

After the student body was led in a collective recitation of the Quran, another teacher lectured on the significance of Commonwealth Day: “Do not think that today is just about feasting and having a party. We need to think about the children in other Commonwealth countries. Some are hungry, in refugee camps, without parents. … How are they feeling? … They are not so happy like we are. …”

I was struck that these are among the children whom Americans and Europeans might refer to when telling their own kids “eat your dinner; remember the hungry children in Africa…” Yet, in their own setting these kids are considered lucky and remember those less fortunate than they are.

The real party began when the food pots were unpacked from their cloth wrappings. The children heartily dug in to their variations on spiced chicken or fish and rice, and even local oysters and french fries along with salad and mayonnaise (I learned that many parents are pressured to prepare these nice dishes so as not to embarrass their kids by bringing meager foods – sort of like the pressure we feel in the States from our kids to keep up with their classmates’ fashion or toys). They stayed in their classrooms to eat, assembled in small, usually boisterous, groups of 3-5 kids. Some didn’t bring pots of food, but there was plenty to go around. In the local style, no one brought utensils or plates, but ate the saucy foods with their fingers and shared everything in the communal bowls. The teachers did not bring food, as the children with the best dishes set aside ample portions of their foods for the teachers to eat, out of their own large communal bowls.

Nothing else had been planned for their festivities – no craft activities, no games, no entertainment. No one missed any of those; and it was the most contented school party I’ve ever seen.

Wedding Party

Younger girls surrounding the bride and groom

Yesterday I reflected on the virtue of generosity and that night I was struck by it on many levels at a wedding reception that Layla, Anisa and I attended. We were invited by a new friend of mine who helped organize parts of the wedding and who is related to the wedding party -- two prominent families in Gambian society. The girls were excited to attend the bash and get dressed up. I did not even know the names of the attractive bride and groom but we were still very much welcomed to their elaborate party.

After dinner, drumming and dancing, we noticed that women were singing loudly over the couple and guests were lined up to throw money onto cloths encircling the bride and groom. But alongside this commotion was another, more surprising occurrence. Women of more humble appearance were asking us for money. Layla and I both had brought small purses with us, and were quite uncomfortable with this begging within the private party. I asked my friend, “Why are these people asking for money at the wedding?” She replied, “These are the beggars that come to all our celebrations.”

So, we learned that among Senegalese and Gambians of all classes of society, during the big events like weddings there is an expectation that all kinds of people will attend, be fed, and among those who need it most (or who ask most persistently), money will be given out – no one is denied. My friend had packed her stylish gold clutch purse with stacks of crisp, small bills to hand out to these people. We also learned that for the most part, those who are welcomed to these events are not “average” street beggars. They are the griots described in Alex Haley’s book Roots.

When the first griot approached us to sing a story while waving her hand at me clutching 25 dalassi notes (28 dalassis per one US dollar), I was confused. This particular woman was someone I had met earlier in the week, modern, and not one seeming to need to ask for any money. But Layla was excited. She had just finished reading Roots and was the most familiar with this ancient custom where the older generation memorizes the stories of families and the village’s heritage and passes this knowledge along to specifically appointed children to continue the tradition. (Stories also can be made up. In my case, she learned my name and started singing about it.)

Layla didn’t think there were any griots left. But we learned that there are all kinds of people calling themselves griots – from the seemingly high-class, clad in lots of gold, to those of much more humble means. As we were leaving the hotel’s circular driveway, two women we recognized as among the best dancers at the party, desperately waved us down for a ride. We let them in and as we drove and chatted, they described that they, too, are griots. These independent women in their 30’s looked more like disco divas, not the bearers of an ancient tradition, showing the girls and me that the ancient and modern co-exist wherever we look.

Meaning

The past few blog entries have been observations about stuff -- t-shirts and shoes, housewares and cars. I find that being in a new and different place, my senses are heightened, to take in as much as I can, knowing I’m here for a short time. So, I switch, between focusing on the stuff, to the more intangible, or spiritual side of life in West Africa.

While this is the time for Lent, it’s also the period of fasting** in the Baha’i Faith. So, it’s a time to slow down, do with less, and reflect inwardly. It’s been doubly interesting to experience this daily exercise here, as I’m in an environment where fasting – both for Muslims and Christians – is not so unusual as it is in the U.S. Fasting is one of the shared physical-spiritual experiences in most parts of the world. It is a very personal practice, but if the subject comes up with someone here, deep understanding and respect is displayed. Fasting creates a bridge between believers of various faiths that reinforces our common humanity.

I’m increasingly struck by the seamless weaving of spiritual practices, in general, in this society. The weakness of Africa may be its poverty, but one of its strengths is its detachment (generally) from material excess. If anyone has anything, it is shared. On one hand, this creates less incentive to amass wealth and makes substantive investments difficult to make. On the other hand, few people starve (though many might be malnourished), and generosity is built into the acquiring of anything – from a piece of bread to sharing a ride if there is room in your car.

My husband thinks that one of the qualities the world can learn from Africa is patience. In so many ways, patience and generosity are virtues associated with material things, but they also are profoundly spiritual, and it shows how closely associated the spiritual and material can be…just like fasting does.

**from sunrise to sunset for 19 days, ending on the first day of Spring, the Baha’i New Year

Through the Sahara for a Good Cause

Pink Trabant after a 4,200 mile trip

Land Rover - one of the fanciest cars in the Challenge

A little after we arrived in the Gambia, cars covered with lots of sponsors’ logos at varying stages of disrepair had also arrived in the country. These had all made it through the Plymouth-Banjul Challenge. This road-trip starts in southern England and makes its way through the Sahara desert to end up finally in the Gambia. This year 191 vehicles completed the roughly three-week journey. The official website http://www.plymouth-banjul.co.uk/ says that the cars shouldn’t be bought for more than 100 pounds (about $200). Once the autos arrive, they are auctioned off for charity in the Gambia at the National Stadium.

The last of the auctions took place on Sunday. The local hosts of the events associated with the Challenge are wonderful people that I’ve gotten to know. They’re dedicated to doing so many good things for and with the Gambians. The proceeds of the auctions benefit the Association for Small-Scale Enterprises in Tourism (promoting local entrepreneurial efforts and sustainable development) and the Gambian National Olympic Committee. This year they raised over 6 million Dalassis (over $214,000), with over 20 million Dalassis since the race began, making it one of the most successful non-governmental fundraisers in the country.

The motto for the Challenge is: “No Money. No Worries. No Problem.” The drivers range from “highly professional” to what’s affectionately known as “petrol heads.” The cars are fun to see on the street, covered with all kinds of wacky logos and probably attached to an incredible adventure story – if only they could talk. I’ve seen some with hand-painted tallies on the side doors with: “# of Breakdowns” and “# of Repairs.” There have been London taxis, fire engines, ice cream trucks, an ambulance, a 30-seater bus, and a range of 4-wheel drive vehicles as well as tiny compact cars (including the Eastern European Trabant, which I had never heard of before this). This is one of the wackiest fundraisers I’ve heard of, involving the most diverse – and unlikely – people for some great causes, meeting face-to-face and, in the end, learning about each other’s cultures and becoming friends.

Where All That Stuff Ends Up – Part II

Piles of stuff to sort through from US department stores

Back home, I love finding something great under a sign that reads “Take an extra 50% off the already reduced price” AND I can use the 15% off bonus coupon. All those pieces that don’t sell at the rock bottom price in the mall end up at the outlets or TJ Maxx and its cousins. But what happens when they don’t sell after that?

Thanks to enterprising local businesspeople, there are whole shops dedicated to purchasing containers’ full of the things that didn’t sell in the U.S. and Europe. Furniture, bed linens, home decor, backpacks, suitcases, costume jewelry, with labels from Macy’s, JC Penney, Kohl’s and even Bloomingdale’s are among the “finds” around Banjul. Store owners aren’t making particular orders for specific items or brands. Like the used clothing business, they buy in “bundles” by weight, trusting that customers will be found for any of the things they can bring into the country – and they seem to be. If you see something you like, snatch it up…quick.

In the Land Where All that Stuff Ends Up

Happy Used Shoe Seller - Note his T-Shirt says Norfolk Public Schools

Teen-agers trying to fit in the perfect pair of shoes

Picking through t-shirt and bra selection

Did you ever wonder what happens to all those things that don’t get sold at the Goodwill store? Or, do all those tons of bags of donations actually make it to the charity shop??

If you come to a local market in Africa, it looks like many of those cast-offs end up for sale here. Everything from used shoes and underwear to stuffed animals gets compacted with machines into bales and shipped here by the ton.

Wherever I go, men are in T-shirts emblazoned with signs of everyday American life, from “Norfolk Public Schools” to “Coastal Heating and Ventilation,” and “Legg Mason Walk for Life.” One day I just started writing down the logos on all the used t-shirts I saw people wearing and my kids like to point out some of their favorites, like “Franklin & Marshall Volleyball Boosters.”

In the labyrinthine market area of Banjul I saw a large warehouse with nothing but stacks of compressed bales of used clothing, and in the town of Brikama a friend of mine knows the used-shoe mogul. As we chatted with him, so many people stopped by to see if the new 25 kg bales of shoes had been opened yet, as each bundle contains such a hodge-podge of styles and sizes, along with a few gems that everyone wants – kids shoes and sneakers are the most popular.

In the used clothing business, the best margins are in shoes. A 25 kg bundle sells wholesale for 2450D, or about $87.50. Each bundle contains about 35 pairs, which each sell in the market for at least 100D, or $3.57. So, there’s about $1 profit per pair. Even compared to selling new Chinese items on the market, more money is made selling these “donations” for a profit than with the super-cheap Asian goods. As we hung out with our friend in his shoe shop drinking the local currant & berry soda, Vimto, I even found a pair of decent Bally pumps I considered for myself.

Parliamentary Opening

Me posing with grassroots organizers after the official Parliamentary opening

On Friday I received one of about 250 invitations to attend the official opening of the Parliament, officiated by the “His Excellency the President, Doctor AlHajji Yahyah A.J.J. Jammeh”. After almost being kicked out by a zealous security guard who saw me taking a picture of the Justices in white English-style powder wigs ceremoniously entering the building – “but no one told me I could not take a photo!” – I made it in with the rest of the party loyalists, diplomatic corps and a few local journalists, plus the surprise late entry by the team from CNN International, there to cover the President’s miracle curative powers, with this event added-on.

State of the Union:

Other than the formal entry of the various branches of government, the President’s speech was the highlight of the program. Similar to a State of the Union address, he outlined points by key areas such as agriculture, energy, healthcare, the environment, communications, education and justice. Within five minutes of his opening, he began to talk about donors, starting with Japanese contributions. The Gambian economy is said to be largely donor driven (i.e., foreign charitable assistance fuels investment) and this upbeat address manifested that phenomenon.

In the foreign affairs section, he drove home the benefits of “South-South cooperation …within a framework of mutual respect … and non-interference … irrespective of size …We’ll maintain our sovereignty at any cost. We will not be colonized a second time.” Folks watching this at home on TV reported some of the key foreign diplomats were shown dozing during this part of the address.

Everyone seemed to perk up in the warm room when the prepared talk ended and the President spoke off-the-cuff. This was the chance to hear the young, ambitious and energetic national chief say what he really had on his mind to the new Parliament: “Nation-building is a collective responsibility. [It calls for] hard work, sacrifice, and absolute honesty…unity of the country regardless of divergences…irresponsibly divergent views leading to a lack of development is unacceptable…” Then, “before the election you told the people promises that even the devil cannot fulfill. Take care of the people that elected you. … Don’t forget them…You have only five years to serve them….”

When the speech ended we were greeted outside by the energy of multiple groups of drummers and dancers, several camera crews and official cars lined up on a red carpet to pick up their VIP’s. Even the driver sent for me walked up to me inside the security gate, as the chief of security comes from his home village. It felt like a party lots of people could enjoy.

Blood on My Shoes

Sophia inspecting remains of the toad

As soon as I saw so much dried red blood on the heels of my platform slip-ons (the best kind of open-toed shoes to wear in this sandy environment), the scene of the killing became clear to me.

The night before, walking to our cottage, I noticed stepping on something substantive and crunchy. At that spot, shaded by the small bamboo grove from the twinkling stars and half-moon light, I thought it must have been a piece of a branch or a flower bud – like one of the large hibiscus that surround the path. No, in the daylight it became clear: I had decidedly splattered an innocent toad with my clunky shoes. It lay on the path as if in mid-hop, but with guts strewn around it and small ants climbing aboard to claim the meat. With the morning light to retrace last night’s steps, I followed the trail of the poor creature’s insides that had been unknowingly dragged along, all the way to the entrance of the cottage, where, mercifully, we remove our shoes.

When I first saw the splattered blood on my shoes I instinctively shrieked. But with my daughter around, I composed myself and went to clean the shoes. Then, when I was overcome (temporarily) with nausea by the realization of my crime and the sight of all that dried blood, I could no longer face my weapon to clean it. Fortunately, someone else was around to help me clean the blood off my shoes. When I was back home around noon, the reptile had been flicked off the path and lay in the same ready-to-hop position, but was already petrified.

Stones in the Road

Special offering that will not be obvious to the uninitiated

Yesterday after dropping Sophia off at school with my brother-in-law, he suddenly stopped the car and reversed it a few yards. Since we were on the dirt back road short-cut I thought maybe something had gone wrong with the car, or maybe there was a new construction project to know about, as they seem to be popping up everywhere.

I never would have imagined what he was going to point out to me: a scattering of stones, a piece of paper and some other litter placed in the center of the intersection of three dirt roads. From my vantage point, the stones looked like mule dung or simply random stones, along with some litter– nothing unusual. But, upon closer view, these were all the same size,round, and placed in a definite pattern, exactly at the center of the junction. Alongside them was a letter, with other small items scattered among these.

We were witnessing an old West African custom. When someone has a particular dilemma, problem or question, they might go to the marabout (village holy man, thought to possibly have magic powers) who would prescribe a special remedy and an offering. The offerings typically take the form of what we saw, or they can get more elaborate, like demanding the bone of a particular animal, all to fulfill a long-cherished wish or solve a difficult problem. But with cars passing over them and kids playing in the road, the offering was gone by the next day. If Bozorg had just blinked or looked away at the moment we were passing, we would have missed this sighting completely.

These ancient customs continue alongside personal and community commitments to Islam (around 90% of the population) and to a smaller extent, Christianity, as well as modernization. It’s what reminds me that so many things can appear to be like the rest of the world (e.g., religion, globalization of consumer items), but here will always take on a special African quality that gives it a unique, almost magical flavor.

THE Headline

[Top Headline in The Gambia’s Daily Observer www.observer.gm on Wednesday, February 21, 2007, reflecting international reaction to the top news story since our arrival (Please Note: This is not intended as my own opinion but the entire Daily Observer story, verbatim.)]:

Jammeh Aids Cure Real…Sky News** is Wrong

Sky News’s report on the President’s herbal cure for HIV was full of misinformation, lies and absurdities. Sky’s Africa correspondent, Emma Hurd, questioned the efficacy of the President’s cure on the apocryphal grounds that there was no evidence for it. This is an obvious falsity because patients were treated after having been diagnosed first by a qualified medical practitioner. And the results were also clinically confirmed by qualified medical personnel. The marked increase in the CD4 counts of the patients could not have been cooked up even by the most imaginative enthusiast.

It was simply out of churlish cynicism that the Sky report dared to suggest that the President and our Department of Health would put our lives at risk by concocting a bogus remedy. The idea that few in the country dare doubt the cure is quite simply based on ignorance.

One should therefore wonder why Sky News manufactured false information to discredit the God-given cure for Aids, which President Jammeh has already adequately demonstrated. It is false for Emma Hurd to claim that the U.N. has warned of the dangerous consequences of President Jammeh’s curative gifts. Which UN organization has made this statement? It was not mentioned in the Sky news report. The WHO is the UN organ responsible for health and this organization has not yet made any pronouncement on the matter. The Sky news statement is therefore false. The report is definitely written with a view to damage and not to authenticate. This is the cheapest form of reporting, not expected from Sky news. President Jammeh’s claim that he has treated dozens of Gambians with traditional medicine, succeeding where modern medical science has failed, is a living truth. There is ample evidence based on western scientific verification methods, through laboratory tests conducted by medical professors at the faculty of Medicine, Cheikh Anta Diop University, Dakar, Senegal, that patients who were tested Hiv positive prior to commencement of treatment were again tested after the treatment and the results showed that the virus became undetectable. That is to say the virus can no longer be seen, which in layman’s language and to the patients affected, the disease has been conquered. What other proofs are people still asking for? President Jammeh does not have to convince anyone that he has been given the gift and knowledge to cure Aids. And he does not have to explain to anyone the secret of this gift and knowledge to cure Aids.

The statement by Fadzai Gwarazimba, the UNDP coordinator in the Gambia,^^ quoted by Emma Hurd, is irresponsible and most unexpected from a UNDP resident representative as her statement is not based on any perceived sexual behaviour pattern by people of this country. In fact her statement is not only absurd but infantile, as it assumes that once the cure for aids has been found, there would be increased promiscuity. This is poor reasoning.

Gambians and all other people of hope should welcome this development in our country. Africans should be proud that an African is using African knowledge to cure the diseases and ailments of people, no matter what race. President Jammeh will cure anyone with Aids, be he black or white, because his knowledge is a gift to humanity at large. We must wake up to the fact that the pharmaceutical industry, who control the major seats of power around the world will not be happy with President Jammeh’s gift and knowledge to cure Aids, as there are billions of dollars attached to research, to find a western medicine to cure Aids and to sell existing and ineffective drugs to fight Aids. Indeed this little country called The Gambia with its gifted leader has now become the biggest threat to the interests of the multi-national drug companies, who may even have shares in Sky news. We would therefore not be surprised that Emma Hurd is promoting the interests of the multi-national drug companies, who hide behind the name of western medicine to peddle their useless drugs.

Gambians and many more people will continue to go to President Jammeh to be cured of the disease that is de-populating most countries in Africa today. The people who were cured are living evidence of President Jammeh’s success.

**Sky News is a popular British news service, after BBC.
^^After this story was published, the UNDP representative was deported from the Gambia.

Female Lawyers Association of the Gambia – Launching a FLAG-ship

Female Lawyers Organizing Board

“It is justice, not charity, that is wanting in the world” (remarks of Gambian female judge).

On Friday evening I was invited to attend an elegant event in a posh hotel with some of the best-dressed women in the Gambia, who also happen to be brilliant and savvy. This was the launch of the Female Lawyers Association of the Gambia (FLAG). I’ve been involved with various initiatives advocating women’s rights and currently serve on the Board for the Chester County Fund for Women and Girls (http://www.ccwomenandgirls.org/) helping women’s lives locally. The Chester County, PA Fund is an active member of the international Women’s Funding Network, so it was a great place to share common experiences.

The Gambian event served as a demonstration of two important, but contradictory trends I’ve been observing: on one hand, women hold an impressive share of the seats of power, and on the other end of the spectrum, many Gambian men are openly polygamous, female genital mutilation is commonly practiced, and the majority of women generally remain much less educated, poorly paid, and stuck in traditional, back-breaking roles.

Among the notable women in attendance were the nation’s Vice President, the Secretaries of State for Communications, and for Education, the President of the Gambian Bar Association, members of the Supreme Court, the immediate past Speaker of the Parliament (the current Speaker also is a woman, but was not in attendance), and many prominent female attorneys who are active in their field and also in a variety of businesses in the country and throughout Africa. Also noteworthy was the attendance of prominent men, mostly there to lend quiet support. From husbands who lead some of the most notable banks, communications organizations, consultancies and businesses in the country to the Chief Justice, judges, and senior members of the Bar, there to support their female colleagues. The U.S. Ambassador attended, sitting without any special VIP status in the audience – like the other men, silently supportive.

I kept thinking that if I had just landed and gone straight to that event, not knowing anything else about the country or the rest of Africa, I would think “This place is like a paradise! The people are so poised, eloquent, elegant, educated, concerned and wanting to be of service to their nation. Everyone seems genuinely friendly, interested in each other, and there is such a high degree of warmth and human connection. And to top it off, the weather is perfect; the food is good and the atmosphere gorgeously appointed.” What more could one want?”

I also was impressed by the frankness of the comments, even among the nation’s most visible leaders. For example, the Chief Justice (a man) said: “It’s about time [for the female lawyers to organized in this way.] Our heritage as West Africans is of matrilinear inheritance … Let us face reality, ours is a polygamous society… We must think about the women … come up with a good set of laws. We want to be counted as a nation with women who are dynamic, women who can make us proud…”

Then, the Vice President, who also serves as the Secretary of State for Women’s Affairs and has worked on women’s development for many years, challenged the group in a lengthy and impassioned speech: “Men should realize that if women are troubled, they are not free themselves…. The most important development in the world is the empowerment of women.” She talked about harsh realities that society doesn’t want to admit to, like marital rape and other instances of domestic violence. “We hide behind religion, tradition and culture to justify our actions.” She acknowledged that the government can declare certain rights, but the real test is how these will be carried out in daily life – starting with the ways we socialize our children, with double standards shown boys versus girls.

The vision of the FLAG organization is: “to procure changes to the laws of The Gambia for the protection and wellbeing of women and children in respect of the elimination of violence against them, freedom of expression and education thus enabling women’s potential for contribution to effective participation in the development process of the country.” They will accomplish this through various activities involving research, advocacy, free legal advice offered through mobile legal aid clinics, networking with like-minded organizations, and providing an open forum for discussion of matters affecting women and children.

After the speeches and official launch of the organization, a most interesting thing occurred: the senior (male) member of the Bar Association stood up and pledged 10,000 dalassis (about the equivalent of $360, but a very large sum for here). This started a process where so many others stood up and offered generous pledges, ranging from 1,000 to 50,000D. Even for the most seasoned individuals in the audience, this impromptu fundraising of several hundred thousand dalassis and in-kind donations like free air-time on the radio took everyone by surprise.

Now that FLAG is off to such a great start, the big test will be the staying-power and the impact such a capable and high-minded group can make.