Words and Wigs

Time flies when you’re having fun. It doesn’t seem like two weeks since I last posted a blog. Now I’ve got to think of something really interesting to say. The truth is, now that I’m into a ‘normal’ work pattern exciting things don’t happen as frequently so it took much head scratching to get up and running. However, what is now quite normal to me will still seem alien to you.

Thought I’d post a picture of one of my classes, all happy and smiling. I’d obviously not started the lesson by then. Fast forward an hour and a half and they’re all drifting off into the land of nod. One of the tasks this week was to write a brief paragraph about themselves so that we could assess their writing ability. I had to titter at some of the spellings. Somebody loved to read ‘nobels’ (novels), one cheeky chappy enjoyed ‘creaking’ (cracking) jokes and one young lady’s most memorable time was her ‘weeding’ day (I don’t think I need to translate that one). The shop signs are just as comical we have one that sells ‘spear parts’ (spare parts). Or was it correct the first time, I haven’t actually been inside. There is also a video shop that advertises ‘A Closet for Elders’. We haven’t worked out whether or not it is somewhere you just sit down and have a rest, a cubicle to watch porno films or a special loo for incontinent customers. Maybe I’ll try it out one day as I’m sure they class me as an elder as I often get yelled at across the street ‘How are you boss lady!’

Our compound landlord, Mr Touray, who lives and breathes football, is also the manager of the teacher’s regional football team. Being very loyal tenants we went along and supported his team. We seemed to stick out like sore thumbs, toubabs and the only females there. We obviously brought them good luck as they won against all odds and survived a pitch invasion from a lost goat. You see I told you life was exciting.

Goat invasion

The West African women certainly put us drab westerners to shame when it comes to dressing up. They are always bright and colourful. I’ve been persuaded to have a Gambian dress made so I’ve bitten the bullet and spent the equivalent of £3 on material which is probably the most garish I could find, bright orange with black and yellow fish swimming around on it. Next step will be to visit the tailor and see what he can create. It should be ready just in time for ‘Tobaski’, the next Muslim festival. I’ve also entered a competition to win a ram (yes a male sheep), through my mobile phone operators. The tradition is to slaughter your ram in the street during Tobaski so the next blog entry has the potential of being very exciting. Going back to the lovely Gambian ladies, even the cleaners come to work looking very elegant and get changed into their work clothes when they arrive. This also means removing their wigs, which is all the fashion. When I entered the room last week I did think I was having another animal encounter and had discovered a huge bird eating spider sitting on the chair. Just as my bowels were about to evacuate I realised the cleaner was in the corner with a scarf on her head, my mind quickly put 2+2 together and realised where the creature originated.

June’s tip of the week – Never leave your wig unattended.

Blackboard and Chalk

Not quite Champneys

I’d forgotten how therapeutic it was, writing with chalk on a blackboard. Sometimes I get carried away and forget that there are 70 students behind me and I’m taking an eternity to write a vital bit of information on the board (well they think it is vital). Two weeks teaching big people done and I really like it, not as daunting as I thought it would be. It’s a little bit like being on the stage and so far I’ve managed to learn my words, make them titter at the right bits and give the impression that I know what I am talking about. It does occasionally turn into a Little Britain sketch with me playing Matt Lucas and one of the unfortunate students the Indian lady in the dieting club. I haven’t quite tuned in to the Gambian accent and usually have to ask what has been said three times until eventually I guess. We often get our wires crossed and I followed one guy to the loo the other day thinking he’d asked for a word in private but it was actually permission to go and urinate. I’ll learn!

Earlier on in the week we had an unpleasant smell wafting through the classroom window. After apologising to the class that it wasn’t a very sweaty English teacher I discovered that a sheep had decided to pop its clogs outside the classroom door, eventually it was hauled away. Smells seemed to be the theme of the day. While I was teaching one of the many stray dogs took refuge in our office and when I got there it smelt like it should have been dead but was alive and kicking and was promptly given its marching orders.

Having run over with one of my lessons the R.E teacher was waiting for the class. I popped out to apologise and said that he could use the English classroom. Some of the class started to leave and just as I was ushering them back to their seats he informed me that he only took the Christians. So without thinking, as I do most things, I stood on a chair and yelled ‘Muslims out, Christians in!’ It wasn’t until I got down that I thought that wasn’t a very politically correct thing to say. The next day I thought that Allah was wreaking his revenge when one of the students turned up with a machete. I thought my time had come and my heart missed a beat. I later found out that it was college cleaning day and it was his job to chop down the weeds – phew!

Continuing with the animal theme. A quick update on the croc encounter a few weeks ago. I will no longer be petting any friendly looking crocodiles. One of the dear creatures escaped took refuge in a nearby well and decided to snack on one of the local children. I saw one of my favourite insects for the first time. A praying mantis, much smaller in the flesh but exactly like the pictures in the books. A favourite in the feminist fraternity because she eats her husband after copulation. Not that I am advocating that we humans should do the same. I have also had my first mouse/mice around to visit. Rachel tells me she has been able to dispatch three by bombarding them with a shower of shoes but I think hers must be a different breed. Mine seems to be the Usain Bolt of the mouse kingdom. Smoke trails follow him as he zooms around the room. I think I’ll leave him to it.

June’s tip of the week- Never leave a dead sheep festering in the baking sun for more than two hours.

Local transport

Petunia the Praying mantis - where's the husband?

Victor and Veronica vulture - looking for nesting material outside the classroom. 

Two Bob

‘Two Bob’ – the latest term of endearment given to me by my hubby. The Oxford English dictionary might define it as originating from the Mandinka word – toubab, meaning white person. Isn’t he a sweetie or should I say sweaty! As well as work and preparing for the imminent arrival of the students my fellow volunteer, Rachel has had friend over from Oz so we took him around a few touristy areas. One eco-camp well within our budget called Tumani Tenda offered to teach us how to cook the local dish – Benechin. All prepared in one pot (see pics). I can just about remember what went in there even though the smoke was dulling my senses inside the sauna like hut.

                                                                   Working for my supper!

                                                                               The pot
The local restaurants in our busy little town are cheap and often more economical than cooking your own meal. They aren’t exactly in the Raymond Blanc league but our favourite has the choice of three dishes – omelette and chips, spaghetti with tomato sauce or beans with or without a smattering of goat meat. Omelette is usually off the menu so beans is often the best bet (just as well I’m living on my own). Our volunteers cookbook also gives us handy tips. I thought I’d pass on this info on how to kill and prepare a chicken should you ever need it (I don’t think I will).

‘Start by making a slit with a SHARP knife in the chicken‘s neck through the windpipe. This allows the chicken to die a somewhat quick and painless death. Remove the head. Next, dip the chicken in a pot of almost boiling water. This will allow you to pluck the chicken with the greatest of ease.’

I am now an expert in tie dyeing after having one lesson where I created a blue and green abstract patterned piece of cloth. I will be calling in at the local tailor to conjure up a shoulder bag, from which I’m sure the fashion houses of Paris will be clambering down to Gambia to steal my designs.

With no telly and very little electricity filling the evenings has been quite an effort, chatting with friends is one option, reading, a spot of yoga, sewing – yes I have made a peg bag and seat cover (Grandma Robinson would be proud of me), listening to the very posh man presenting the BBC’s world service between 8-9pm each night and of course there is also 'spot the insect’. A game that can be played alone or with friends. I have come to accept all the creepy crawlies that share my home. There’s no point sweeping them out or killing them otherwise word seems to get out and they march back in with a vengeance. The latest edition to the family is a 50p sized ‘thingy’ that looks rather prehistoric, runs sideways very quickly and has three inch long antennae. I usually give him/her a wide berth.

June’s tip for the week – NEVER walk into a room naked when someone is on the computer using Skype (Tom)!

Tranquility out on the river.