”Our eatery can’t be beat!
-From Terry Pratchett and the Discworld cast (Keeping me laughing and smiling through it all)
Harper’s Findings on Food and Drink:
> Mangos, high in fiber and essential vitamins, are quickly being consumed and current estimates say there is roughly 504 to 552 hours before stock supplies run out.
> Dinner parties are all the rage in the Brikama area. Birthday parties, welcoming new volunteers, or just silly fun are reasons cited as being in style and worthy of such a gathering. The Volunteer Happiness Index has risen to approximately Volume 5.8*.
> The holy month of Ramadan begins on the 13th of September. A famished and exhausted population is expected to reach its peak irritability rating by day 19, tapering off by day 28 when nutrient levels become too low to support mood swings or emotions.
> Domino’s Pizza (American Fast Food Pizza Chain) has introduced an OREO flavored dessert pizza. The pizza is made of a regular Domino’s crust, icing for the base layer, and chunks of OREO cookies for toppings. It is currently being sold for $3.99 if ordered with a qualifying “dinner” pizza. Doctor’s surveyed at 15 clinics at 12 of America’s largest cities from Los Angeles to Boston claim that American adult obesity levels have increased 38% over the past 10 years.
* As measured on an absolute scale ranging from Volume 5 to Volume 6. Visit the PCVs in the area and you’ll understand...
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One of the other volunteers that I work with at the YMCA is from California, and she recently came back from a month long vacation visiting family and friends. Of note all the vegetables and fruit must have been good for her because she looked appreciably healthier than any of the other volunteers I’ve seen recently.
As we chatted and caught up she made some subtly perceptive remarks. Chiefly among which was, “That the thing is, there is a general misconception of progress from both the Gambian and American side. Being in America and looking at all the $200 jeans and t-shirts, fancy cars, and means of communication, I realized that all the stuff we have in America is also here in West Africa, just different.” She stopped for a second to fully contemplate the inference to be made, “It just seems a bit funny that all over the world our basic technologies haven’t changed a whole lot since the late 19th century. For example why do we still use gas powered cars to drive a few miles to work, school, or to eat? Isn’t it odd that Gambians revere America as this technological utopia, and isn’t it odd that we Americans think that we are so far advanced?”
Indeed.
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We conclude this jumbled visit to The Broken Drum with a verbal painting.
The scene passed before my eyes like a distant spectacle. Perfectly Gambian in my own limited Peace Corps experience: removed but gigantic, lacking color value but Indescribable in audio and common sense. Best described as a sort of miss-mash of pieces that shouldn’t fit together, but like a small child with a challenging puzzle, forced, smashed, and bent into one.
It happened outside of a large Internet cafe surrounded by a familiar brown colored ground and Islamic green mosque spires. I was finishing a 30 minute conversation with my mother on my mobile**. The reception was thankfully not too terrible this time around, meaning only a 3 second delay and static fuzz every 3 minutes. A large 7 meter by 7 meter solar panel array stands inside the complex, slowly taking in the sun’s rays. A shirtless 16 year old Gambian male, wearing only brown pants and red foam sandals, is engaged in a shouting match with a fully clothed 25 year old. My conversation with my mother comes to an end as the boys take the shouting to the next level.
And without further ado let’s Level up! Round 2: Fist Fighting***.
The fists swinging and the shouts wailing last long enough for everyone to drop their jaw and admire the inexplicability of the situation. Then the theatrics are quickly pulled apart and quieted by friends, management, and customers. Each of the fighters are trying to maintain their manliness by giving one last gasp attempt to break free of the peace makers and throw in a final swing. Needless to say curses abound.
Throughout all of this in the background there is a large television hall filled with about 30 young men watching an English Premiership football match on full volume. They are chanting and cheering in tune with the game rather than the fight. Goals, fouls, and missed opportunities dictating the waves of noise.
A storm is brewing in the distance and clouds are rolling in without the usual silent thunder, but with a quiet confidence embodied in all things inevitable. It’s as if the clouds are looming and whispering, “We are coming. And yes, the storm will be big. Be ready.”
The final brush stroke of the image: goats. A small herd of five goats ‘baa’ing down the road, and being led by an quiet little lady who must have been well into her grand-parenting years. She looks on at all of the commotion, shrugs disinterested, and pushes her goats on past the fight, past the Internet cafe, past the cheering hooligans.
I get on my bicycle, an imported Trek from America, transportation that completely places volunteers further in the “white foreigner” lime-light, and ride off. The road is a muddy mess from the rainy season and my clothes make it home speckled with dots of mud.
** Yes, that’s mobile not cell phone. Other British English regulars (and their American counterpart): Rubbish (Trash), Rubber (Eraser), and Football (Football).
*** Steevo, being a nerd should be able to visualize the appropriate cheesy SNES/SEGA Genesis era Street Fighter II graphics I’m envisioning here. Ask him to paint you a picture, in the limiting tool set of Microsoft Paint if at all possible.
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