? before lunch
Went outside after writing that last entry last night and sat enjoying the peaceful evening with Libon and Seku (his brother). Although less with Seku as he speaks French but not enlgish, the opposite of me.
The stars and full moon made for a beautiful sky, although we moved to sitting under the tree.
I will miss Africa. For some things, I’ll be glad to be home, but for others, I’ll miss it.
No longer is my name Amanda, Libon repeated this morning. I am toubab. I am American African. I am Musuba. Multiple names for me. I am unique—even more so now. And I like that.
The airline confirmed the flight time and check in is at 8 this evening. The only thing amy has spoken to me for this week was asking earlier what time I was leaving. Nice.
Walked to the bank this morning to change money for the djembe bag. The bank was going to take 300 dalasi for changing only 40 pounds, so I used the ATM instead. I took out 1000 dalasi for Libon, figuring that covered the bag and other expenses. Approaching home, Seny was walking from Libon’s home. I don’t know what that was—I wasn’t brought into the conversation.
Hopefully, I’ll see them later. I want to give something to thank them, but I don’t have something. I will have to send them something. I’m not sure what yet—besides pictures.
Libon left and I sat; having finished my book, I felt idle. So now I’m writing. I appreciate the calmness to the day, but I’m anxious about leaving soon.
Amy’s cooking and I would have loved to learn, but I don’t feel like that can be achieved today.
There’s 3 days to account for (journal entry-wise) yet. So that’s what I’ll focus on.
Monday:
On Monday morning, before training I had conversations with Amy and Libon that shed a little more light on their situation. It weighed my thoughts down while training started. I think he could tell that; he told me not to worry about it. Halfway through training I was able to focus better.
I lay in my bug net that afternoon. Spent time reading and relaxing.
Libon called Seny to come over. Shortly after Libon hung up, Isha had called back to talk to me and ask me why I hadn’t invited her over. I didn’t know that Libon had called Seny over. So Isha and Seny came over to the house that evening. I hadn’t seen them in awhile. We sat in the back of the house—I hadn’t been back there. They smoked and I drank some JulBrews. The sky—the stars—was beautiful.
Tuesday:
Training at the bamboo place. Perhaps it was Monday when Attical brought the palm wine they had discussed. Yeah, that was Monday—the palm wine (straight liquid from the palm trees) was good. It had a unique taste although it hinted at something familiar, though I still can’t place it. On Tuesday, during training, he came and reminded me of a conversation we had about trying his uncle’s pork. He asked if we could go in the evening and what time. I told him to talk to Libon about the time. Libon asked me if I “was okay with what the man said” which was a funny way of checking with me I thought. Funny translation I guess. So that was set.
Again I was by myself in the afternoon, which is fine. In the evening, Libon came back and called me to come to the back of the house. “Come, we cook together.” Which was really me sitting in the back talking with him as he peeled and cut potatoes to make French fries.
Isha and Seny came over again and then I was unsure about Attical and the pork since Libon was making me dinner. He appeared though while Isha was telling me stories about how she has been arrested. Dinner was done and so I ate by myself at the table. I went back out and then left with Attical.
We walked to his uncle’s bar/restaurant. I, of course, the only white person and also besides the server, the only woman. The pork was good, and I was brought JulBrews to drink. 2 was good and I did not ask for a 3rd, but it appeared opened. I met his uncle, the restaurant owner who welcomed me to his establishment. The TV was on and apparently one of the cell phone company’s sponsors a saga so there’s an episode each Tuesday night. It seemed like a Spanish soap opera—over the top, because while I didn’t know the language I could tell there was some love triangle drama.
Walked home and Libon was sitting outside at the compound. Sat outside, enjoying the nice evening for a bit and then went to bed.
That means we’re at Wednesday.
Training on all 3 instruments. Song bong was easier and jun jun easier—the opposite of the 1st week’s pattern. But I got both better than the 1st week.
I wanted to ask about going to the beach and crocodiles but felt awkward about outright asking to go. But at lunch I asked.
Lunch was communal. It is nice to eat with others. Eating by myself is going to be a solitary adjustment. Like at school. Maybe we can do some more potluck-type meals at school more often this year.
We went to Isha and Seny’s after lunch. I hadn’t slept well Monday night but had Tuesday night. So when he asked if I wanted to relax (sleep?), I said no and was glad to go with him.
Sat and enjoyed the afternoon. Leaving to go walk to the beach.
There were many people playing soccer and exercising along the beach.
On the way we witnessed two men getting the palm wine from the trees. I could see the bottles hanging (I guess I hadn’t noticed them in the trees before). I took a picture of the second man—he was farther away and I thought maybe he wouldn’t notice me. But he did and yelled. Libon said he told him I didn’t have a camera—that I didn’t take a picture. But he argued by yelling back at us. Ugh.
So I didn’t take pictures of the soccer matches on the sand. There are some distant ones and those will have to do.
I love the sight and sounds of the ocean. The tide was coming in closer. The moon was getting fuller.
We walked up to near where we walked the other time. Sat and enjoyed the waves. I took many pictures and carved my initials in the sand.
Then I decided that my version of photographic self portraits will be of my feet different palces. I like my feet pictures and I think from now on, I’ll try to remember to take more. To build a collection. People might find it odd, but that’s just art…right?
Then we walked down the other way. There were many hotels with restaurants—closed because it’s not season. But I could see that it catered toward the light skinned visitors. The names and such gave it away.
I saw a few lobster-y (sunburned) white people. And I though how sad it would be to just come to the Gambia to one of these beach reserot/hotels and not experience Gambian life. I’ll gladly take my trip over that. I like the beach, but this is new. I know that going to the beach might be the goal of a trip, but to just see the coast would be a disservice to the country.
Didn’t see the sun set completely, which is sad from a picture perspective, but not for me being able to see the way home.
Stopped along the path to take a lot of palm tree/environment pictures.
And then saw a dance rehersal in progress. That was cool. 5 women changing their actions in time based on the changes in the man’s vocal representation of a drum.
They knew Libon. One woman spoke to me in mandinka/wolof and Libon helped me (told me how to) answer.
All that I remember is that “yameric” means that “I’m fine.”
Fell asleep watching tv. It’s cooler in the living room and I have that habit while watching tv.
Awesome. Mbalia keeps playing with my pen and I’m hungry for lunch.
ak
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