Holy Sh!t...I'm in Africa.

I wake up everyday around the same time, 5am, the time the first call to prayer sounds. The once eerie chanting from the solar powered mosque has become more soothing. Either that or it's become a realization that I still have a couple more hours to sleep before I start the long day ahead of me. My second wake up call is usually the baby crying in the hut next to me or the sound of the giant mortar and pestle being hammered in my family's compound. Whatever it is it's a sign that everyone around me has already gotten a good start to their day, and so should I. Not that I really have anything specific I need to do each day, it's just that I know if I want to get anything accomplished I need to start as early as I can before the sun gets too hot. At times I feel like the heat is too unbearable and I wonder how I'm going to survive the next two years here. But then I remind myself that this is the hottest time of year and that it will only get cooler from here. And I know everyone else feels the same way because from noon to about five, everyone just sits around in the place that provides the most shade and breeze. One afternoon that place happened to be my hut and I found myself lying on the ground with my host mother, sister, and two brothers taking sighs of relief each time a gust of wind swept through the room.

My Hut!!

One of my more interesting days was accompanying my host sister to the river where I thought we were just doing laundry...yes laundry in the river. I know it's not the best thing for the environment or maybe not even the most sanitary thing for my clothes, but what was I supposed to do? So we walked a short distance to the river where we were greeted by a few other women and children. My sister insisted that I sit on the bank of the river and just watch, so I did, not wanting to mess up her routine. All of a sudden the laundry session turned into not only that, but a fishing, corn cleaning, and even bathing session all simultaneously! I mean if you're already knee deep in the river washing your clothes, why not take off the clothes you're wearing, wash those, and yourself too? And without any hesitation that's what the women did. This was the point I started looking around at where I was and what was happening in front of me and thought to myself....holy sh!t, I'm in Africa!

The Gambian River and gardens near my village.

These kind of feelings happen to me often. Like the time I had to shoo away the goat that was trying to come into my room in the middle of the night. Or the day I had massive diarrhea, and sat squatting at my latrine, trying to ignore the flies that found my bottom area to be a place of interest for them...sorry too much information? I think I've become used to all the poop stories I've heard from other volunteers that they don't really phase me anymore, not that I used to shy away from the subject back in the states as some of my friends know. There are the really pleasant experiences too that bring about the "holy sh!t" feelings. Like having nothing but the moonlight illuminate my family's compound after dinner as they're lying around trying to help me with my language. Or when I walk to the Gambian River and look off into the distance at the mountain ranges in Guinea. It's more peaceful times like these that let me know yes, I can do this.

My family's compound.

I don't want to glorify my first two weeks in village by any means because I really haven't done much. Aside from finishing the Hunger Games series in about four days, I've managed to visit both the primary and middle schools in my village. I will be working on a scholarship program for middle school girls that should keep me occupied for these first few months. Although my main goal at this time should be learning the language and convincing my community that I'm not just a crazy tourist handing them money and then leaving without having established any real sustainable projects. And with that trust comes time, and a lot of it. Once my stomach issues resolve I will start compound crashing, as my good friend Claire has coined the term. Each day I'll walk to a family compound, sit with them, probably drink tea with enough sugar in it to bake a batch of cookies, and attempt to explain why I'm here and ask what they hope I will accomplish during my stay. Will there be awkward moments? Many. But building these relationships will, in theory, pay off in the end. For the moment though, all I have to worry about is the fly situation in my latrine...that and trying not to catch schistosomiasis in the river. 

My village located right on the main road.

Inside my hut.

The other side of my hut.

My fancy private latrine.