IST

We made it! Our three month challenge ended at the beginning of December. Mid-month we came back into Kombo for one week of In-service training (IST) to share our war stories, learn how to deal with problems we've come across at site, and become reacquainted with civilization (kind of.) Everyone was looking a little thinner, a bit more tan, and immensely more dirty. I could tell that those who had been residing deep in the bush for the past 3 months were finding it particularly difficult to make full sentences in English, and make fun of them I did.

The day before IST began Rachel the VSO had her going away party at the Bakau Beach Guesthouse. One of her VSO friends, who I had only briefly met once before, invited me to a beach party that night at his friends house. I was reluctant at first because I barely knew the guy who invited me, but I also had never even met the person whose house this party was at. But then he mentioned free booze and food and I just couldn't say no...

That night I rallied Lily, Erin, and Katie to come with me. After spending an hour trying to comprehend the VSO's french-Canadian accented directions over the phone, we finally found the house, excuse me, I mean gigantic mansion in the tourist district. He told us to ask the guard to lead us down to the party on the beach so we followed this guard around the side of the mansion, through tiny Harry Potter doors, across the backyard (with grass!!) and the backyards of the neighbors houses. As we walked down there were putt-putt courses and infinity pools on either side of us. We all stared, mouths open for a few minutes and then walked on. We climbed down the cliffs and over boulders. The party was fun, but getting there was the best part. We ate grilled fish, drank many coconut flavore drinks, and spent a few hours trying to explain to a few backpackers why anyone would want to live the way we do. We got back to the transit house at 4am and three very short hours later, the first day of IST was in full swing.

First, I would like to share my two favorite quotes from IST with you:

*This is the peace corps medical officer's 4 "It's" for surviving The Gambia:

"Don't get Bit

Don't get Lit

Don't do IT

Don't eat Shit"

Looks like I'm dead...

*The second was in a lovely powerpoint presentation given by an Agriculture-Forestry volunteer :

"If The Gambia were a Disney movie it would be all of the sad parts from Bambi and The Lion King...and also be narrated by birds."

IST was tedious and long, but also incredibly helpful. Six, seven hour days in a row was just enough time to pass a stomach virus around to almost the entire group. So not only did I spend most of training surfing the waves of nausea that overcame me every fifteen minutes, I also had a majorly infected earlobe that was swollen to twice its normal size (thank you 2 dalasi earrings) and an infected cut on my calf as well. I guess my luck of miraculously making it through rainy season without an infected cut couldn't last forever.

The middle 2 days of IST was the counterpart workshop. Our Gambian counterparts came in from our sites all over the country to participate in some of our training sessions. My favorite part was during a discussion on alternative discipline when Ian presented a few sayings and asked us whether they were true or false, totally expecting everyone to say false. Nope, we got a few "TRUES" from the counterparts and the awkwardness ensued. Here were the sayings: "spare the rod, spoil the child" and "the cane is the only language students understand."

The last session of IST was called Ask Sarjo Anything. In this session we finally cleared up that yes, "ninkinako" does in fact mean dragon and that we hadn't heard wrong when about a month ago we heard our families talking about a dragon in the coastal village of Gunjur that ripped the roof off some of the huts there. I learned why my brother was washing his hands in the Tobaski ram's blood and why Gambians are so terrified of owls (witches.) We also learned about cheating spouses, marabous and their curses, tranquilizing that crazy guy in Brikamabah, and why some men have really really long pinkie nails (to show that their jobs don't involve physical labor.) Muhammed Touray, our Assistant Program Director told us that he used to have a long pinkie nail which he referred to as his "pet" and also talked to?!?! I kid you not.

Speaking of Muhammed Touray, he is probably my favorite staff member. He sleeps all of the time, but during our trainings he can always be counted on to wake up and add a completely relevant bit of important information on the Gambian Education system. One day during IST, he came in late and headed straight to the table that had bread and chocolate left over from breakfast. We all watched as he made himself a sandwich, grinning ear to ear, obviously so excited, and then we watched him teach a session, writing on the board with only his left hand because he was holding his food with his right hand...he's not left handed. More times than I can count, I remember someone elbowing me during an IST session and nodding in Touray's direction, who would be sitting there doubled over laughing at nothing, or giggling in his sleep AND he lives in Brikama so I get the occasional random phone call or visit from him which I always look forward to.

Christmas was a few days later. We woke up, ate pancakes, set off fireworks with our terrified house manager Modou, and then went down to the beach to bumster watch all afternoon. I left in the late afternoon alone and was chased around by a Konkoran with a machete for a good fifteen minutes. All in all, a good day.

I have to add this in here, I am presently at site writing this, sitting in front of my house on a prayer mat with my "husband" Muhammed, my neighbors 2 year old son who has finally gotten used to me enough to stop screaming whenever he sees me. But what has made this the best day ever is that the bitik across the street must have just gotten a few new Boyz II Men cassette tapes and they have been playing them at top volume nonstop all day, and all of the men who sit outside of the bitik all day, everyday, drinking attaya are all singing along at the top of their lungs. I love that the people here have no shame when it comes to their singing voices, young or old, male or female, if they know the words to a song (or even don't know the words) they want to make sure you know that.