Worlds Collide

I had the privilege of being present at two first meetings of a sponsor and their sponsored child. They happened thanks to my fellow volunteers Patricija and Sandra who very much wanted to meet “their children”.

Excitement was in the air when we entered our van, reggae blasting in the background, as we passed many bustling streets, having no idea where we are. Life was all around us; chaotic traffic, cars honking, the smell of street food, busy market stalls and people in colorful outfits going about their daily business with a donkey cart thrown into the mix. It was a completely different world.

We stopped at the compound of Sandra's child first, a little girl of only 3 years. The sight of her left us in awe, she was like a princess in her pink tulle dress and carefully braided hair. Entering the compound we were immediately surrounded by the small children, followed by their adult relatives. We met the beautiful young mother and everyone else living there, although the little girl soon grew scared by the sight of strange „toubabs“ (white people) with cameras in their hands. She hid behind her mother's skirt, crying because she had no idea what was going on, since she was too little to know much English and none of the volunteers speak Wolof. Later she became more animated proudly showing off her gifts while carefully guarding them from curious hands of the other children at her compound.

Thanks to the sponsorship, she will enter Nursery 1 in the fall, taking her first steps towards an education, an elusive goal for a lot of Gambian women. They get married as early as 15 years old and bear 6 children on average, often more. The husband is the breadwinner while the wife is expected to stay at home and take care of the children. Most girls drop out of school when they get married.

After that we stopped at the compound of Patricija's little boy where we were met by his father. He led us to their grandmother's place where they usually spend their days. Their meeting was touching as she knelt down to embrace the 3-year old who wasn't afraid at all. He admired his brand new school bag and lovely clothes and put the bag on right away. One could see the joy and pride in his deep brown eyes and he posed for pictures like a pro. He's already attending nursery school where he gets high marks and is the 3^rd best in his class. Thanks to her he will be able to continue his schooling and have a stable and safe childhood.

 Patricija arranged that he will spend time with her at our school while she'll be working there. It was a very emotional day and seeing the changes sponsorships create first-hand was a very special experience for me.  

For Whom The Bell Tolls

Our summer camp is free for the children and they also get free lunch every day, because the volunteers raised money before coming here. I remember lunch time while I was volunteering in a Slovenian kindergarten. The kids were very picky, someone refused to eat vegetables, the other never eats soup, some refuse to eat anything at all. We threw so much food away. It's a completely different story here in the Gambia. 

The bell rings for main break and the children run out of the classroom with smiles on their faces and expectation in their eyes. Food. It's precious in this country, something to be treasured. An average Gambian family will usually have one big meal in the afternoon, if they can afford it, maybe breakfast too. They eat rice every day, it's a staple ingredient, with different sauces, maybe meat on special occasions. I've never heard anyone say here that they don't like something to eat. There are no vegetarians or vegans as well.  It's  usually served in a communal dish from which they eat with their hands. Families always eat together, nobody is left out, everyone is taken care of. People look after each other, even if it means they will go without for that day. The children eat everything and after that, they look longingly at our plates (the volunteers get their own plate and a spoon).

 During the school year, only those who have sponsors or whose parents can afford it, eat school lunch, the rest go without. It puts the Western world's pickyness to shame. The children's looks every time they pass by us when we are eating break my heart. And it makes me angry at kids at our schools who refuse to eat things because they happen not to like them. They've never experienced real hunger, because they have too much to choose from. During the summer camp, it's all thanks to donations.

I think people are not aware what a big effect their money has on the lives of people we help here. Especially the sponsorships, 17 Euros per month for one child and the school fee 45 Euros once a year. It's not that much money in the Western world, something you would spend on clothes, makeup or coffee, but here it's a matter of a better future. I wish more people had a chance to see that their donation is making a direct impact on a child's life, because a lot of kids would be unable to attend school otherwise and nobody could teach them at home as the parents are often illiterate and not all speak English. 

The literacy rate in Gambia is 43%. Being able to read and write and speak English gives someone a head start. Going to school is precious here. The children are proud to attend and they would go even during the weekends if it was possible. The worst possible punishment is being sent home and teachers are one of the most respected members of community. Parents often look for their advice after school hours and nobody says that their Special Little Snowflake is different or wouldn't do something. They will always side with the teachers and punish they children for misbehaving when they come home. There is no permissive parenting here. 

Sponsorhips for the children: http://zaotrokesveta.com/postani-boter/kako-postanes-boter/

Free school lunch: http://zaotrokesveta.com/5e-na-mesec-za-dnevni-obrok/

Paradise Regained

We have weekends off and we usually try to use them to explore Gambia, weather permitting. The heavy rain postponed our trip for one day but Saturday was much better. The rainy season has finally started here. Veronika and I headed to Makasutu Cultural Forest, a private ecotourism reserve, it's beauty much extolled by previous volunteers. The name comes from Mandinka: Maka - Islam's holy place Mecca and sutu meaning forest, which translates to "holy forest". It's located in the vicinity of Brikama, one of the largest cities in the country.

The place was founded by two Englishmen who came to Gambia looking for a place to build their eco-retreat in the wilderness and finally decided for 4 acres of land in Makasutu. They went to England for three months to raise more funds and 200 trees were cut down during their absence giving way to further deforestation. They were urged to purchase the entire area (1000 acres) to protect it from ruin. Over the next few year 15 thousand trees were re-planted and more than 70 wells were built. The local people living in the area before it was sold were allowed to stay on the land, meetings were held and it was decided to integrate them into the planned sustainable eco-tourism venture.

We were very lucky because we had the entire reserve almost to ourselves since it's off-season. Firstly we drank coffee with our guide Suleiman in the company of two playful dogs and a curious goat. When the tide was high enough we moved on to the boat trip. It was the most unique experience I've ever had and I will always cherish the memory. All we could hear around us were birds as we were gliding across the smooth surface of the river, admiring the beautiful view of mangroves and palm trees. It was so peaceful that a person would be tempted to settle on the riverbanks and live at this timeless place.

The forest walk through the jungle was also a special experience. Our guide explained the medicinal properties and traditional uses of each plant and tree as we passed them. It was a lot of very interesting information. There is also a maribou or a bush doctor living on a clearing in the forest with his animals. He is 100 years old and the founders asked him to stay on the land after they bought it. In return he does palm reading for the visitors. I gave it a try and if what he says is true, I have a very interesting future ahead of me. 

We concluded a tour with a buffet lunch of traditional Gambian food. It was very tasty and I also got to eat a real African banana for the first time. It was completely different than what we get in Europe. This was the most beautiful place I've ever visited and I'm grateful for the opportunity to visit it.

This Is Africa

I overslept because I was so tired from my long journey. Veronika came to wake me up because it was almost time to go to school. I could hear the birds singing from the palm trees and the sounds of the bustling streets nearby. Everyone was greeting us as we were walking down the street towards our taxi, families sitting down for breakfast in front of their homes. The roads are not paved and it's perfectly normal to spot chickens and roosters wandering around. We had to walk the last part of the way because the road was completely destroyed from the latest rainfall and it was impossible for the car to pass.

The first thing I saw when I entered the school was a welcome sign for me and a second later there were little kids running towards me from all directions. Everyone wanted to hug me and hold my hand, I probably had about 30 kids hanging off of me, saying my name. Urša showed me around the school and each class sang songs and performed for me. I was sent to the oldest class, 8 and 9 year olds and their teacher Abdula, who is originally from Sierra Leone. Their knowledge and their eagerness to learn were astounding. The teacher was also very open to suggestions and new ideas and we made a lesson plan for this week.

Teachers are very respected here and parents often seek their advice outside of school hours. The kids fear them more than their own parents. I guess the hardest thing for me to accept was that corporal punshment is an everyday thing at school in the Gambia. I don't mean heavy hitting or anything of that sort but someone who misbehaved despite several warnings would get slapped. I'm still just a visitor in this country so it's not in my place to voice my opinion.

The biggest problems were the heat and humidity, I could see the kids were having problems with it as well but they stuck it out. I think it was around 30 degrees Celsius and 90% humidity. I've probably never drank this much water before and my shirt was firmly stuck to my body.

After school was over for the day, we headed back home, took a nap and had lunch. I wanted to see more of the neighbourhood so Veronika and I headed out. Walking on the street here is completely different. Everyone wants to say Hello, people want to shake hands and it's impolite to refuse, cars are honking at you, people want to convince you to buy something. There is never a dull moment. It's impossible to go unnoticed as a white person or a “toubab” as they call us.

The highlight of the day for me was going to the beach. It was like something out of a movie. Palm trees, sand and the ocean. We sat on the beachside, drank amazing fresh mango juice and people watched. It was the perfect ending of a great day. 

The Voyage Out

I managed to fall asleep for about an hour before it was 2.30 am and I had to get up to catch my transport to Venice Marco Polo Airport. My heart was pounding and it felt like it's going to jump out of my chest any second. My father cooked coffee for my mother and I despite the inhumane hour and all of us being half-asleep. Of course I remembered that I forgot to put something into my suitcase. Not my best moment because I had to unlock the huge beast of a suitcase I packed that evening but it was urgent, of course.

My parents drove me to the pick up spot and we had to endure the truly terrible Slovenian music which is my it was probably broadcast at an hour when most normal people are sleeping. I was absent in my head anyway, imaginging all the worst case scenarios I've ever heard of. What if my flight gets delayed or cancelled, what if my luggage gets lost … It was difficult to grasp that this is it, I'm actually doing this. For those not in the know, I've never truly travelled by myself before.

I felt like I was having a heart attack when I finally sat into the van hugging my parents for the last time. I still think they were probably even more nervous than I was. Everyone in the van was sleeping and I tried to follow their example, though I've never been able to sleep while travelling somewhere and this time wasn't an exception. The driver was really nice though and that was somewhat reassuring though he looked sleepy as well, resorting to Redbull and coffee (not together) on the way. We had an interesting conversation the rest of the way when I started feeling more human. I made it on the plane without any bigger problems though my suitcase was over the weight limit and I had to pay extra. In that moment I decided that I really don't like Italians, though the coffee from the vcnding machine was really really good. It looked like this was going to be the kind of day when you subside on coffee and adrenaline.

The first flight of my journey, from Venice to Barcelona, would be uneventful if it wasn't for a fellow passenger, an American doing his Masters degree in Austria. I wasn't feeling very social at first, paying more attention to Chomsky's writing on my Kindle, but more coffee brought out my social skills and I had a great time debating about different places I've seen , the USA, American foreign policy and student life in Austria. It made the short but crowded cattle class flight more pleasant.

Barcelona airport was probably the biggest I've seen so far and I was trying to think of ways to pass my eight hour layover before heading to my final destination, Banjul Airport in the Gambia. The wifi was only free for 15 minutes and it was horribly slow, so I barely managed to check in on Facebook to ease any possible worries. I don't get it why they want you to pay for something that barely costs them anything. It's not like everything else isn't expensive enough.

The airport was large, spacious and modern with its elegant lines, a lot of glass, fancy window displays and a lot of stores. I felt out of place in my practical, somewhat backpackerish (I know it's not a word) outfit suited to a day of sitting on airplanes and at airports. I felt like Alice in Wonderland when I went to the Duty Free Shop. The first thing I saw was M.A.C. Cosmetics, my beloved brand from olden days when I actually felt like wearing makeup. The nostalgia was strong though and I backed away just in case.

Of course the plane was delayed when I was feeling all achy and tired from 8 hours of sitting around at the airport. I tried to sleep on the benches, but I gave up after contorting my body to fit in and I still couldn't sleep. Then I meet an interesting group of expat ladies who live in the Senegambia part of the year and we were waiting stoically to board the plane. I was relieved that at least we made it on the same day although the 5 hour flight was quite uncomfortable. But I had the most interesting airport arrival of all times. We left the plane and everyone around us was wearing gloves and surgical masks, then we had to disinfect our hands and they took our temperature. It made an impression though. I was happy to see Urša and Veronika waiting for me and I was the happiest person in the world when I showered and went to sleep.

Wherever I May Roam

I couldn't resist using this Metallica song title for a blog post because it seemed fitting. These last few days have been all about preparation and anticipation. Making a list of things I will need, crossing them off, gathering materials, looking for last minute craft workshops ideas, nursery rhymes, stories, ... I don't even dare to think how all of this will fit into my suitcase and now I have a box full of toilet paper rolls, crayons and other strange things.

I spent a lot of time thinking about people's reactions to my travel and the stereotypes they hold about Africa:

1. Most people were concerned about my safety. It's true there are civil wars raging in a couple of African countries, but they are rather far removed. It made it seem like Africa is just one large country instead of a diverse and complex continent. The crime rate in the Gambia is quite low and you can also get robbed in Slovenia just as well. I therefore highly doubt I might fall victim to rape or kindapping.

 2. There were also questions about how I'll be able to communicate with the children - the official language there is English and the teachers will help with translation from tribal languages.

3. Diseases and vaccinations. I had to get a Yellow Fever vaccination and I will be taking anti-malarials as a precaution. There is little to no chance that I might get Ebola which caused a total media frenzy and made explaining the same thing day after day really annoying. I think this is a great example of media manipulation by carefully omiting information and blowing things out of proportion. It's not airborne, the affected countries closed down air traffic and carefully monitor migration. There is a greater chance of someone dying in a car accident than dying from Ebola.

4. There were more than a couple of raised eyebrows when I said that I will be travelling there by myself. I still don't understand this one. I spent a lot of time on buses, trains and in cars in Slovenia by myself, now I'm just using a different mode of transport on a longer distance. I have an 8 hour layover in Barcelona, but I will have my netbook and Ipod with me, so I think I will be fine. Really not sure why this would be something to fear.

While I'm on the topic of fear. A lot of people said that I must be brave to do this and I find it puzzling. I've always been a curious person and I've always loved discovering new places and meeting new people. Is there really such a widespread fear of going out of your comfort zone, the unknown, being by yourself? Being stuck in the same surrondings with the same people all the time is something I find suffocating and I get restless if I'm not able to go anywhere else. If there is an opportunity, for me, the only logical thing is just to go and do it. Sometimes you just have to jump in the water before you see how deep it is.

I've recently watched the movie Tracks, which beautifully shows Robyn Davidson's journey through the Outback on foot with a dog and three camels. She made the journey alone, most of the time, leaving time for introspection and personal growth. Everyone asked what was the reason she did it. I loved her answer in this interview: "'My sense of myself is that I was a rather unformed kind of person trying to make myself up out of bits of spit and string,' is how she once described it. 'Some instinct – and I think it was a correct one – led me to do something difficult enough to give my life meaning.'”

 In short: Why not? There doesn't always have to be a deep and meaningful reason to do something and I can relate to that. It's the journey that counts and the spiritual growth resulting from it. It's human to look for meaning and we all do it in different ways. Sometimes you have to go to the other side of the world to find it.