C is for Circumcision

Back to the alpha-blogging!

Today's letter is C.

Circumcision, both male and female, is a traditional cultural practice in the Gambia. Female circumcision, or FGM as it is more commonly called these days, is a highly controversial, deeply sensitive topic for Gambians and non-Gambians alike, and overall something I can not truly be qualified to comment on as an outsider to this cultural. So we won't touch that topic anymore in this post, except to say that I am in no way condoning anything here on that issue. Done.

Male circumcision is more publicly celebrated here. Most volunteers here get the chance to attend a few circumcision ceremonies, the party thrown by a village when the boys come back from the bush, having not only been circumcised, but also initiated into adulthood and taught the finer points of the culture by their elders. The ceremony that I get to attend (women are not allowed in the bush where the boys are being circumcised, they can be there for up to 2 weeks, healing and learning with the elder males bringing them food from the village) is not altogether different from the other ceremonies. There's lots of cooking, lots of food, and lots of dancing.

However.

I have a friend, another volunteer, who lives in a Jola village. Jola are a very different tribe from the Mandinka, the tribe I live with. For example, they do their circumcisions every 25 years. Which means, not just a ceremony when the boys come back, but an epic, epic party. It lasted for 6 days, and I attended for one. In this tiny village in the middle of nowhere, everyone had rented generators, and sound systems, and spent what was easily a year's salary on fuel for those generators, and this whole village did nothing for a week but party. At night every house was lit up, blasting music and people just went from house to house dancing. It was such a stark difference to the usual nighttime scene in that village, where the only thing making noise is the donkeys. And the food! Well. The day I came they gave us 3 lunches. And they were all delicious. People came from all over the country, in their finest clothes, ready to party and cook for as long as the party goes.

So I guess what I'm saying is, if you visit the Gam, try and hit the 25th year of a Jola village because you will see people come from far and wide to celebrate the snip-snip that ushers these boys into manhood. Whether they're 2 years old...or 20.

alpha-blog pause

we are pausing. i'll get back to it, i've got big plans for the letter C. but i just wanted to take this opportunity to plug my project, and, obviously, ask for money. you can write it off when you do your taxes!

i'm a member of our country's gender and development committee, and myself and a few other members got together to make a proposal for a camp for middle school girls talking about caring for the environment. we've talked to quite a few organizations here, and drawn a lot of support from the community, and, thankfully, the US embassy. But we are relying on this grant, donations from home, for the backbone of our budget. your money will go to lodging for the girls, teaching aids, food, travel, guest speakers' travel, and our big last night talent show (environmentally themed, of course. who can do the best Earth-friendly teaching activity?). it's hard to imagine in America, but these girls are growing up in a country with a rapidly-growing population (the majority of the population is under 15 here) and no real solid-waste disposal infrastructure. it's a plastic bag graveyard over here, and it's only going to get worse. we're aiming to give the girls strategies for avoiding plastic use, ideas about re-using aluminum, glass, paper, and other normally thrown-away items, and pairing this all with a series of activities geared towards giving them ability to go home and tell all their friends. in addition, we're asking prominent female community members who serve in relevant fields to talk about environmental awareness, so it's not just coming from us. in a place where every day is a struggle, conservation isn't an everyday theme. we know we're not going to change all that with 30 girls and 5 days, but we also know that starting on the ground instead of in the sky is a much more practical approach. so please check it out (there's a much more vocabulary-ridden description for you there), dig deep, and help us help Gambia.
thanks!!!!

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=635-072

B is for Bumster. or Boss Lady.

*****this post contains adult themes********

What is a bumster? The question is not what, but who? And there are many of these "whos" around here. A bumster is the term for a male sex worker, a male prostitute. They patrol the beaches, clubs, and other high tourist-traffic areas of the Gambia, looking for their prey: the Boss Lady. IF, and this is a mighty big if, with tourism plummeting, they happen to find that special Boss Lady, she will accept him as her "tour guide." Then she will buy him things, pay him for sex, or simply fall in love with him and marry him, so he can go back to wherever she's from and reap the benefits of no longer living in a third-world country. It's a good reason to hustle. However. Bumsters are some of the most obnoxious people on the planet. Especially to unmarried white women. Also, just because a man has never been compensated for sex before doesn't mean he's not up to try. 97% of Gambian men have a little bit of bumster in them. If they're hassling you to marry them and get them a visa, you can say you're being "bumstered," it's not just about the carnal relations. So let me amend my earlier definition; a bumster is a term for a male sex worker, a hustler, or a wannabe trophy hubby. Good?
Despite all their annoying tendencies, when bumsters are not talking to you, well, they're hilarious. The squats and thrusts they do on the beach to simultaneously tone their bodies and get the lady tourists to notice them. They wear outrageously tight and revealing clothing, usually women's jeans. They preen. The sad yet funny spectacle of the 22 yr old stud and his 65 yr old girlfriend...he doesn't care who he's with, as long as she foots the bill. It leads to excellent discussions, do you think they're in love? How did they meet? The way they will hit on each of your friends in short order, undaunted by rejection. "oh, you have american boyfriend? that's ok. i will be your gambian boyfriend." The names they give themselves to make them sound tough or cool. My favorites so far: Powerful Striker, More Fire, and No-Waste Timeless.

I do, however, absolutely hate being called boss lady. Sometimes they will holler at you, to get your attention, "hey boss lady! hi!" It's the worst. It makes you feel like you're giving off that desperate "i cam e to this country to get hitched" vibes you get from some of the tourists.



This man is not a bumster. He is an employee of the reptile farm of the Gambia. He is, however, wearing a mesh tank top, otherwise known as a "bumster jersey." They have been dubbed so because many bumsters favor them because they give the illusion of being fully-clothed while still allowing you to show off every last muscle. Also it's hot here, and they're just trying to keep cool. Right.




Some bumsters on the beach. For obvious reasons, I didn't want to get to close. Note the excellent push-up form.

going alpha-blogitcally

it's offical. i've hit the wall. they all told me i would, and much sooner. allegedly after a year or so of being here, you experience blog-block. everything becomes ordinary and you run out of things to blog about. it's not that i don't have a lot to say. it's just that i don't know what to notice to say it. anyways, in an effort to un-blogblock, i've decided to go through the alphabet and blog about something in the Gambia with that letter. eventually i'll either leave the country...or think of something real to say. so let's get this ball rolling....

A is for Asobi.

Asobi (that's ah-soo-bee) is one of those words that is the same in every language here. It means everyone wears the same fabric, and usually the same style, as everyone else. I understand asobi exists throughout West Africa, though it often has different names. Gambians LOVE asobi. It's very common to get it for events, either with your work colleagues (all the teachers at my school have an asobi, for example) or your friends. It's sort of the opposite of America, 2 or 3 girls will show up to a party in the same dress...on purpose. And think it's awesome. Families also get asobi, at times. My host family (extended...my host father, his brothers, and their children. and their children's children) are getting an asobi for my cousin's naming ceremony. I am very excited, even though I specifically requested they select a fabric that doesn't look terrible on white people...and the did anyways. I will manage. Anyways, here's an example of asobi from the Peace Corps' volunteer swearing in ceremony...we got different styles, but the same idea...

and another from the Peace Corps All-Volunteer Conference

and finally, here's the asobi, american-style my parents brought for my host family when they came to visit. I would estimate my youngest host brother wears his Vandy tee-shirt 4-6 days a week.

What does asobi say about Gambian culture? I think it's a great representation of just how much community means to them. Gambia is very much a community-based society, and asobi is a representation of this. Whenever someone invites me to have an asobi with them, I am flattered because I take it as a sign I'm really a part of the group/community. It's fun. Asobi is usually made for an event, but you get really fun moments when you wear it weeks later and your friend does, too. Asobi is more then just matchy-match fabric, it's an expression of unity. It's one of my favorite things about ceremonies here.

That's it for A....B is on the way coming, soon-soon.

recycling-it's not just for aluminium.

hiiiiii everyone. i've decided, instead of writing a relavant post, to share with y'all an article i wrote for our post's gender and development newsletter. i worked hard on it, so if it sucks...don't comment. :)

Where My Girls At? Women Working In Environmental Fields

One of the most heart-swelling moments I’ve had in this country was watching an older woman address a gathering of people on the importance of mangroves. She had been living and working around these incredible trees for years and only recently learned of their ecological importance. Given the opportunity to address a tree-planting crew on why they had assembled, her voice soared confidently across the crowd, proud to be sharing her knowledge. When she sat down, bursting with pride, the whole room exploded into applause. She had said what we all needed to hear.
Even if they are just cooking the lunch for a group of men clearing a firebreak, women are working for the environment in a way they understand. This means it’s your job to ask them, do you know why we’re making this firebreak? They probably do. And they’d probably love to tell you all about it. So next time you head to your forestry camp, your agriculture extension office, to the headquarters of your nearest environmentally friendly NGO, look for the women. Thank them. Educate them. It’s your world as well as theirs.
Personally, I see the environment as an issue where men and women have an equal stake. If this planet’s health takes a nosedive, we’ll all be going down with it. This is why it’s important for everyone, not just women, not just men, to be educated on sustainable environmental practices. GAD is all about equality, and this is an easy area to address without getting into too many “responsibility” issues. Taking care of the Earth is everyone’s job. That being said, there are some pre-determined gender roles when you come down to the particulars, and that’s a great place to GAD-up any environmental work you may be doing. Empowering women isn’t just about breaking gender roles. It’s about giving them the knowledge to understand the world around them. Women in this society are more then capable of nurturing a bevy of screaming children, nurturing a planet is well within their capabilities.
How do we educate women about the environment? Start in your compound. Talk to your host sisters. Sit in on a meeting of your local women’s group. Have them think about what they’re doing to the planet every day. I’m not talking about a guilt trip. I’m talking about bringing conservation concepts into the forefront of their minds. Environmental education can be done at every level; it’s really all about awareness.
In the field, many environmental extension workers are men. OK, almost all of them. But that doesn’t mean there aren’t women out there working effectively to save the environment. True, they may not get sweet motorbikes and they may not be chatting up all the alkalos, but they’re there. And they’re working towards a greener Gambia. For example, a woman named Binta essentially runs the regional forestry department in my area. Yes, there’s a government-appointed figurehead, and yes, he does actually do effective work sometimes (gasp). But for the daily monotony of keeping that place running? Binta makes it happen. Period. And this isn’t uncommon. A large component of our up-coming girls camp (yes, this is a plug) is having women working in environmental fields speak to the girls, allowing their malleable, sponge-like brains to soak up every inspiring word about how they can work for the environment, too. We want girls who understand the environmental problems they stand to inherit, girls that are passionate about taking care of their country. We will be using women who embody these values. And what we’re finding as we look for these speakers is that women are working for the environment not only on the ground, but also behind the scenes. They’re behind desks, getting the paperwork done. They’re making sure the tractors are ready for trash collection. They’re calling Lamin over and over to make sure the seedlings will be ready for the tree-planting exercise. They’re pushing the Gambia to be a greener nation, with every small task.
Is this where women deserve to be? I’m not saying this is true. I’m saying that there are plenty of Gambians who don’t think about the environment, and I’m glad there are women out there who leave their homes every day to do just that. I am saying that they deserve to be acknowledged whether they realize it or not. -Casey

recap...lessons learned.

hello hello. i'm back, in one piece and not all that worse for wear. maybe my pockets are a little lighter, but hey, travel will do that to you. now that i have been to 4, count 'em, 4 west African countries i feel my perspective has grown enough to present you, gentle reader, with this list.

THINGS THAT ARE EXTREMELY HELPFUL TO LIKE WHEN LIVING/TRAVELLING IN WEST AFRICA.

1. WAITING. for transport. for someone to call you back. for your phone to have service. for your visa. for the immigration guy to come back with your passport. for your food. for your check. for your laundry to dry. for water. for the airport to get power back so you can check in. for prayers. just waiting.

2. MAYONNAISE. on anything. and while we're on the topic of food...

3. BREAD ON PASTA. carbs can only be improved, clearly, by the addition of more carbs. sold.

4. PALM OIL. yumm.

5. AKON. this one is probably the least negotiable.

6. CELINE DION. this one is much more important if you are a male.

7. SPEAKING LANGUAGES IMPERFECTLY. if you're not mixing your french with your wolof with your english with your malinkee with your pulaar with your krio, what are you doing? just use your hands a lot and point.

8. GREETING. this will be 95% of your interactions. just follow the format.

9. LAYERS. it doesn't matter if the patterns match, just throw on some more fabric!

10. MAN LOVE. there's a lot of hand-holding, lap-sitting, leg-touching, male friendship. it's ok, you have 3 wives. you can be as comfortable as you want in your masculinity.

11. CHECKING FOR QUALITY BEFORE YOU BUY, THEN SAYING IT'S NOT THAT QUALITY FOR A LOWER PRICE. do it.

12. SHOUTING/ LOUD NOISE. it's the only true way to be excited/talk on your phone in a crowded car. or a house. or anywhere.

13. TALKING ON YOUR PHONE IN FRONT OF EVERYONE ABOUT ANYTHING. privacy? pshaw.

14. MARRIAGE PROPOSALS AFTER ANY INTERVAL POST MEETING YOU. but your walk is SO smart!

15. PEOPLE KEEPING THEIR PET MONKEYS ON SHORT TETHERS. i guess it is protecting you from rabies.

16. THE CALL TO PRAYER. you haven't heard it till you've heard it echoing around the mountains. amazing.

17. BOOBIES. you're going to see them. breast-feeding is beautiful and natural. so is taking your shirt off when it's really hot out and you're a 50 year old woman.

18. TAKING ANY FREE RIDE YOU CAN GET. this one is especially important when you've been waiting on the side of the road for several hours.

19. CONSERVING OR FINDING ALTERNATIVES TO TOILET PAPER. the more you travel, the better you'll get.

20. MAKING LOTS AND LOTS OF FRIENDS, SEEING NEW AND BEAUTIFUL SIGHTS, ENCOUNTERING CRAZY ANIMALS, AND NEVER SLEEPING ENOUGH. just do it.

typical. ????

i guess i should begin with an apology. sorry. i mean to update more, but the Internet has been really slow lately...and i've been both really busy and really lazy. what have i done since i last posted? counted oyster spat, taught about endangered species, endured a week-long administrative conference, gone on a trek around the entire Gambia (it's hot upcountry), ridden my bike, taught some more kids about HIV, attended some meetings, written some grants, celebrated some birthdays, tickled some host siblings, andddd planned a trip to Sierra Leone and Guinea. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i leave friday. it's going to be awesome. i can barely concentrate. but i just wanted to tell a little story illustrating how much my perspective has shifted since i got here. this actually isn't much of a story, but it proves it's point. last night, my host sister and i were leaving a naming ceremony-the last part of the ceremony, where you just run out the last of the generator fuel by having a dance party with everyone under the age of 8-and we stopped in the shop to chat with our friend, the shop-keeper's wife. there was a man from Senegal there who spoke French. and only French. he didn't speak mandinka, pulaar, wolof, jola...just french. my host sister and i were fascinated. we pooled together our meager french to ply him with questions. where did he come from? what tribe were his parents? how did he get to the gambia? what language did his mother speak? what did they say in his compound? who was he staying with? before i came here, i wouldn't have been surprised by someone speaking only the official language of their home country. most americans only speak english. but living here has given me a new perspective on "official language." in a way, they have helped developing nations-allowing them to communicate on global level, making them more relevant members of the international community. at the same time, though, it's amazing how people manage without them. i would say you could absolutely spend your entire life in the gambia and never have to speak a word of english (the official language). but to spend your whole life in the gambia never using dialect? you wouldn't be able to talk to your age-mates, really talk to them, until around 8th grade. you wouldn't be able to talk to the shop-keepers, all idle chatter would be impossible. it would almost be impossible not to acquire local language skills, living here your whole life. i never thought mono-linguism would be so alarming. but it was a false alarm. this man really just wanted to command the attention of two young ladies. hours later, after we'd been dissecting and discussing (who did he play with as a child? what if he had a travelling emergency) a mutual friend informed us that the man in fact spoke fula and was joking with us. very convincingly, but still, joking. and he gave me so much to reflect on! so that was it. a typical night. a typical situation. a typical west african man, lying to the ladies for a little attention. typical.