My African Mother

I originally wrote this story for Gambia International Women Club , a new wonderful project by Ursa Faal, our volunteer coordinator living in the Gambia. It's about a woman who became very dear to me in the month a was staying there, one of the teachers named Anna. We had amazing conversations every day, full of wisdom and sharing of life experiences. She quickly accepted me as one of her own and became my African mother. I only have deep respect and admiration for this woman who has remained strong in the face of so many difficulties.

MEET THE SMILING ANNA
Her name is Anna and she is a teacher at Mo-beta Nursery and Primary School. Everyone's immediate comparison,upon meeting her for the first time, is Whoopi Goldberg. Her contagious laughter and singing echo throughout the school. I've never seen her in a bad mood so far. A smile is ever present on her lips. In my mind, she is the image of Mother Africa.

Those who don't know her well, would never guess the story behind the happy face. It's not all sunshine and rainbows, though. Anna is the mother of five children and she is also looking after a sixth one. They live in Latrikunda, a part of big town Serekunda. Home is just one room in a house. She shares the bed with her daugther while the rest sleep on the floor and her oldest son is living with a friend nearby as there is sadly not enough space for him left. Her husband went to Senegal in search of a job with which he could better provide for his family. Anna was left alone to take care of everything. 

As a teacher she barely makes enough to cover the cost of one bag of rice to feed her family for a month. After a busy day at school with a class of about 25 small children, there are six waiting for her at home together with all the housework. Despite this hardship, she is not one to give in to pessimism: “Happy thoughts attract happy things and vice versa.” For her, there is always a silver lining for every cloud that passes her way. She is always happy to help and is genuinely interested in the lives of those around her. Her smiles, hugs and good mood are a freely given treasure. She sings, she dances and she tries to play the guitar, although she doesn't actually know how to play. But she will learn, one day.

Anna still has dreams and wishes for the future: learn how to play the guitar and rent a bigger place, so she will be able to have all her children with her once more. She will never stop fighting, with a smile on her face, of course.

Anna is an inspiration for all of us. When I look at her it makes everything that I worry about so pathetic.

Krokodilji park Kachikally

In Slovenian again, so far. A visit to the Kachikally Crocodile Pool in the Gambia.

Krokodilji park Kachikally se nahaja v bližini mesta Bakau in je skozi leta postal priljubljena turistična točka, saj v njem prebiva več kot 100 krokodilov. Pred več kot 500 leti ga je odkril nabiralec palmovega vina iz družine Bojang. Tja smo se z ostalimi prostovoljkami odpravile nekega popoldneva po šoli, saj ni prav daleč od Serekunde.

Nekateri verjamejo, da ima jezero, v katerem krokodili živijo, nadnaravne zdravilne moči, saj naj bi umivanje s to vodo ozdravilo neplodnost. Kraj zato vsako leto obišče veliko žensk iz vse Gambije in iz tujine, kjer jih z vodo iz jezera umijejo posebej za to izurjene ženske iz družine Bojang. Po ritualnem umivanju ženske prejmejo vodo v steklenički, ki jo morajo nanesti na določene dele telesa pred spanjem in takoj zjutraj, ko se zbudijo. V zameno se od obiskovalk pričakuje simbolična denarna donacija, kos blaga in kolin orešček – polovico katerega razdelijo med starejše, drugo polovico pa vržejo v jezero krokodilom. Po opravljenem ritualu se ženske ne smejo rokovati z nikomer iz Bakaua. Članom družine Bojang je prepovedano izkoriščati zdravilne moči jezera v finančne namene, saj bi drugače to izgubilo svojo moč

Zaradi številnih obiskovalcev so krokodili postali zelo krotki, namesto mesa raje jedo ribe in se pustijo tudi božati. Z dekleti smo se ravno tega najbolj veselile, čeprav nas je bilo obenem tudi kar malo strah. So krokodili res tako krotki kot pravijo? Kaj pa, če se bo ravno pri kateri od nas eden od njih odločil, da pa mu danes ni prav dosti do božanja? Vse to in še več nam je rojilo po glavi med vožnjo do parka. Prvega smo zagledale že takoj pri vhodu, tokrat še za ograjo. Nepremično je ležal na soncu, kot da sploh ne bi bil živ. Kasneje so nam povedali, da zato, ker skrbijo, da so njihovi krokodili dobro nahranjeni v dobrobit obiskovalcev in zato raje ležijo na soncu in se grejejo, saj so mrzlokrvne živali.

Po kratkem sprehodu med obilnim zelenjem je šlo zares. Pred nami je ležal velik krokodil in vodič nas je moral nekaj časa prepričevati preden smo se opogumile in zelo previdno šle do krokodila ter se ga dotaknile. Njegove luske so bile hrapave, koža pa res zelo mrzla. Krokodil se ves čas ni niti premaknil in zdelo se je, da mu je vseeno za božanje, fotografiranje in razburjene prestrašene vzklike obiskovalcev. Kasneje smo imele priložnost v rokah držati še en mesec starega krokodilčka, ki pa je malo bolj protestiral, a ni bil nevaren, ker še ni imel zob.

Ogledale smo si še muzej in trgovino s spominki, potem pa smo se odpravile na umetniško tržnico v Bakau, kjer smo pasle oči na čudovitih izdelkih spretnih rokodelcev. Dan smo zaključile na bližnji prekrasni plaži, kjer smo ob zvoku bobnov dočakale sončni zahod.

We're not in Kansas anymore

It's quite strange coming back home after a month in a different country with a completely different culture. I had somewhat of a culture shock already when I landed at Barcelona airport for my connecting flight. Suddenly, I was surrounded by so many white people who were busy catching their planes, lost in their own little worlds on smart phones and computers. Nobody was greeting anyone, nobody smiled at you, it was like being invisible.

 Everything was polished, clean and orderly, there were so many stores with anything you might imagine, restaurants and cafes. It was surreal. I started thinking: What's the point of all this? Stores selling unnecessary things costing hundreds of Euros which could feed whole African villages for months on end. Even the change of currency was a bit of a surprise. Everything was suddenly expensive when I wasn't paying with dalasis anymore. Just grabbing a cup of coffee and something to eat after my red-eye flight would get me a nice lunch in Gambia. I also felt cold for the very first time in a month as I was sitting outside at a cafe, getting some fresh air before heading for Venice.

 I also started noticing what others were wearing, suddenly finding shorts, miniskirts and spaghetti strap tops somewhat inappropriate. Gambia is a Muslim country and we respected the local dress code so we always stuck to clothing that covered our shoulders and our knees. It was funny, how quickly you get used to it. Even when I was still there, we would wear sleeveless shirts at home but sometimes we got unexpected visitors and I changed my clothes on more than one occasion because I felt uncomfortable, almost naked.

These past few days have been an adjustment. Most of all, I felt very cold, coming back to 20 degrees and grey days, rarely interrupted by sunshine. You start to feel grateful for all the things you took for granted before. The first thing I did the next morning was putting my clothes in the washing machine with great pleasure. I had to wash everything by hand in this month and it was always a challenging, time consuming task by the end of which I was drenched in sweat. There is also something special about having unlimited access to electricity.

 Yet, despite all this, when I walk around the streets of my hometown, I don't see many happy faces. People are worried, serious and busy, hurrying past each other while going through their mental checklist in their heads. Going to the supermarket is also overwhelming, too many choices. It seems wasteful. I definitely won't see many things in the same light anymore, but that is precisely why I decided to go to Africa in the first place.

Memories

I made it home safely and now I'm slowly adjusting to life in Slovenia although it's somewhat of a reverse culture shock at times.  Here is the link to my photos because I know that everyone doesn't have access to my Facebook album:Gambia 2014 Album

I will continue writing about some experiences but I need a bit of time to rest, make new plans and look for new challenges. There is still much to be said, though.

More info about the program and organisation I went to Gambia with:

Za otroke sveta: http://zaotrokesveta.com/

Kids Are The World: http://www.kidsaretheworld.com/

Moments of Being

“Behind the cotton wool is hidden a pattern; that we—I mean all human beings—are connected with this; that the whole world is a work of art; that we are parts of the work of art. Hamlet or a Beethoven quartet is the truth about this vast mass that we call the world. But there is no Shakespeare, there is no Beethoven; certainly and emphatically there is no God; we are the words; we are the music; we are the thing itself.” 
― Virginia Woolf, Moments of Being

There have been many moments of being in this month I've spent in the Gambia. Those moments when everything crystallizes and you feel present in your life, alive in the moment, appreciating it's worth before letting it go to become a memory. Moments of colours, happiness, laughter, songs, disbelief, humility and so much more, all intertwined into a perfect picture, a keepsake for darker days. Sitting in the car together while another incredible thing happens and looking at each other at the same time: "This is Africa." Gazing at the sun setting over the Atlantic ocean while listening to the calming sound of the waves and the rustling of the palm leaves, enjoying the sea breeze at the picture perfect tropical beach. Attending a special ceremony at a family compound and witnessing joy, singing, dancing and laughter, all without a drop of alcohol being served. The look in a child's eyes when he finally manages to write a single letter, something his parents have never been able to do.

 I can say without any doubt that Africa has given me much more than I could ever give to it. My meagre contribution pales in comparison with the life lessons I've received and the incredible people that have crossed my path and welcomed me into their hearts, treating me as one of their own. They are to ones who have taught me to appreciate the moment, to slow down, to trust myself and to follow my dreams no matter what. It's also where I've rediscovered what I'm meant to do, the goal worth fighting for, the goal worth striving for.

 I've seen what true strength is when I met many people living in almost impossible conditions yet who have managed to stay positive and to appreciate the small good things in life. People who live on as little as 30 Euros per month, often without running water and electricity in cramped living spaces but who will never think of not sharing what little they have with those even less fortunate. A taxi driver struggling to feed his family of 5, working hard every day, all day, gives money to an elderly beggar who stops by his window. A poor family shows their gratitude with gifts for the sponsor of their child although they barely put food on the table. Drivers of our van sharing a small loaf of bread among them. A person giving someone their last coins because they want to help although that means they will stay without. A stranger paying for a car ride for another because they enjoyed a short conversation beforehand.

 The keyword is sharing. The custom in the Gambia is that whenever you're eating a meal, anyone in your vicinity is welcome to it, you always share your food even if that means less food for you. People always help each other, with money, food, clothes, although almost everyone here is poor. Poor in a materially sense that is. I've witnessed more empathy, kindness and true charity than anywhere I've been in the Western world. People here carry their wealth in their hearts and to me that will always be worth much more than all the money in the world.

It has been a privilege to spend this month in the Gambia and I'm forever grateful for this experience. Thank you, Mama Africa.

Korenine

I've already written this in Slovenian, so I will just leave it like it is.

Do zdaj smo se v glavnem zadrževale v bližini Serekunde, mesta v katerem delamo v vrtcu, tokrat pa smo se odpravile malo bolj v notranjost Gambije. Želele smo obiskati St. James Island, kjer stojijo ruševine trdnjave odkoder so sužnje odpeljali v Ameriko, blizu pa je tudi vas, v kateri je prebival Kunta Kinte, junak knjižne in televizijske uspešnice Korenine.

Naša pot se je začela v Banjulu, glavnem mestu, ki pa se, po resnici povedano, ni kaj dosti razlikovalo od drugih gambijskih mest, ki smo jih spoznale do zdaj. Res je, da je bilo tukaj več velikih zidanih stavb, vendar pa so bile ceste ravno tako luknjaste kot kjerkoli drugje. Previdno smo se pomikale proti vhodu na trajekt za Barro, nekoliko skeptične, če se bo spravilo gor toliko ljudi in še ves tovor, ki mu ni bilo videti konca. Pohitele smo po stopnicah na vrh, kjer smo imele proste sedeže in lep razgled na pristanišče. Pred nami se je prikazal tropski prizor kot na razglednici: množica lesenih pisanih čolnov, ki so prenašali potnike na drugo stran zaliva, nad njimi pa so se ponosno dvigovale košate palme.

Prihod v Barro je bil pravcat mali šok. Gneča, truma prerivajočih se ljudi, koze, vzkliki pouličnih prodajalcev … Vendar pa je bila pred nami še avanturistična vožnja z džipom do vasi Juffure po razbrazdani podeželski cesti. Okoli nas se je razprostiralo zelenje: palme, indijski oreščki, … , veliko pa je bilo tudi polj in manjših vasi. Videli smo prostrano riževo polje, na katerem so delale ženske v pisanih rutah z nogami v vodi. Zdelo se je kot da bi se čas ustavil. V vsaki vasi so za nami tekli otroci in vpili: „Toubab, toubab!“ (belec).

V vasi Juffure smo se vkrcale na čoln, ki nas je odpeljal do otoka. Že sam pogled na sive ruševine med zelenjem je vzbujal mešane občutke. Hoja po otoku in ogledovanje ostankov ječ so nas navdali z žalostjo in sočutjem do nedolžnih ujetih sužnjev. V majhnih celicah se jih je drenjalo tudi po 30. Najmočnejše so imeli v posebni celici, v katero so dajali hrano skozi okence, ujetniki pa so se morali zanjo boriti, pogosto do smrti. Pravijo, naj bi njihove duše še vedno bivale na otoku.

Vožnjo nazaj do Barre nam je popestril naliv, naš džip pa ni imel ponjave, zato smo morale vedriti pod streho nekje na podeželju in čakati na drug avto. Vendar pa nas je na cilju pričakala odlična domoda, piščanec z rižem v arašidovi omaki.

Ko smo se okrepčale in malo spočile smo se sprehodile po vasi. To je bila posebna izkušnja, tista prava Afrika. Bile smo edine belke v vasi, zato se je glas o tuobabih (belcih) hitro razširil med otroki, ki so nas spremljali v vedno večjem številu. Šli smo mimo mnogih družinskih bivališč iz katerih so nas radovedno opazovali odrasli, otroci pa so nas medtem že prijeli za roke in nas navdušeno pozdravljali. Predstavljajte si netlakovane ulice, pločevinaste ograje, ki jih je ponekod že načela rja in radovedne koze, ki jih srečate na vsakem koraku. Elektrika in tekoča voda v hiši tu nista nekaj samoumevnega, stranišče pa je luknja v zemlji za hišo.

Zame najtežji pogled so bili otroci, ki so brskali po smetišču za uporabnimi stvarmi z golimi rokami. Pa vendar ljudi ne pomilujem več, odkar sem v Afriki, saj kljub skromnim razmeram nosijo veliko bogastvo v svojem srcu.

Stepping Stone

Yesterday was a very special day for me. My brother recently became a sponsor to a little Gambian girl and I got to visit her. She lives just outside of Serekunda with her mother and grandmother and she is almost 4 years old.

Why did he decide to do it? Sponsorships enable a safe and stable childhood for unprivileged children because it provides them with access to health care, food and quality education. The project provides direct support to the children and their families. They get a chance at a better future with the monthly donation of 17 Euros and school fees, 45 Euros once a year. Meeting a couple of families in the past few weeks, I was amazed at the difference such a seemingly small amount of money can make in a child's life. They would be unable to attend school, have access to medical care and eat lunch at school if it wasn't for their sponsors. The families live in difficult situations due to various circumstances and the parents are more often than not illiterate.

I didn't quite know what to expect when we entered the compound, wondering if our little girl will be shy or scared or cry at the sight of a toubab. Almost immediately I saw a little face peeking at me through the fence, approaching me at the urging of her grandmother. I was told that she is a very smart and stubborn girl who is not afraid of anything. Soon she was sitting in my lap, smiling and playing with her new hair accessories. We didn't get to talk directly because she doesn't speak any English yet but she said that she liked me. Her mother also told me that her daughter was very excited about this visit and wanted to look nice, saying: "My toubab is coming to visit me!" I was beyond touched.

 It's difficult to put these feelings into words. It's one thing when you're looking at a picture on the computer and something completely different when you're sitting in the family living room with the child on your lap chatting to their family. Seeing that a child will be able to go to school, her biggest wish, gain an education and create a better future for herself, is a very humbling yet happy feeling. I would say this is proof that one person can make a difference in the world. An immediate connection was created that day and her family now considers us her family and this is a strong bond.  We arranged to meet again before my departure so we get to spend more time together. Soaking up the African sun on the drive back, I was the happiest person in the world.

Sponsor a child: http://zaotrokesveta.com/postani-boter/kako-postanes-boter/