The End of Training

Training’s over. I’m just about official. I swear in as a volunteer on Friday, September 6^th which is only a few days away. I’m officially at an intermediate high proficiency in Wolof! I’m able communicate my needs and speak in sentences, though my grammatical accuracy and fluency are definitely on the poor side. A new challenge in learning Wolof is that the Wolof spoken up country at my site is not the same as what is spoken here in Kombo. It’s not drastically different, but different enough to annihilate my current language skills. Here we go again.

Last week we had our Marathon March. It was twelve miles through salt marsh, river, mangrove swamp, and bush. There were two points in the journey that we had to hold backpacks over our heads and walk through water up to our chests. Our hard work trudging through sand, mud, and swamp was well rewarded in the end with delicious pizza and cold beverages, a real treat when living without refrigeration.

Hiking through the bush

My language and culture facilitator, Ebrima, has been facilitating my culture learning by quickly turning me into a Barcelona football fan. Last Sunday he took me and my two classmates to watch the game at a house by the baobabs with electricity and a television. We bought cookies and soda from the bitik next door, and I felt like a little girl again, watching football with my dad. “Which team to we want? They’re red right? Yay, we scored! Oh, I mean boo! They scored.” Ebrima’s been a very patient teacher to three monolingual Americans. 

Ebrima and I during a Peace Corps Staff and Trainees versus Host Families Futball Game

Since coming to The Gambia, I’ve encountered various and unique forms of wildlife including monkeys, lizards, hippos, and an unbelievable number of ants. Ants have quickly become one of my least favorite creatures on this earth. I had, until a few days ago, been fortunate enough to avoid any encounters with snakes. My fear of snakes is quite extreme, bordering the line of a phobia. Three nights ago was at first another pleasant evening, reading a book by the light of a lantern, laying in my bed. Imagine my surprise when my eyes glimpsed movement on my floor. I look down and there is a living snake in the middle of my room. It was not very big, maybe a foot long and small enough to come into my house through the gap below my closed back door. Africa must have made me tougher because I didn’t scream, nor did I panic. I grabbed my flashlight and spotlighted the snake as it went underneath my watering can. I ran to my front door, spotlight still centered on the fowl being, and called to my family for help. I said “Mariama, Mariama, kai, kai!” (come, come)" My sisters and mothers came inside and I said “There’s a snake in my house! Ragalma ko! Ragalma ko!” (Small Wolof mistake as Ragalma ko actually means it fears me and not I fear it as I intended. Foreign languages are hard). My mom grabbed a 6 foot stick, knocked over the watering can, and beat the snake for the next several minutes. Meanwhile, my sisters and I stand back, horrified and holding the flashlight. When all was over, I made my sister stay with me while I looked underneath my bed, behind my shelf, and in every corner for any more of its friends. Ebrima came by shortly afterwards and helped me shove a broom under my door to keep any more out. My fear didn't not really hit me until it came in the form of tears after I said goodnight to everyone for the second time and headed to bed. When I first came to The Gambia, one of the other PCTs had a snake in her pit latrine. When she told us about it, I thought to myself, “No way. If that happens, I’m out of here. I’ll do rats. I’ll do massive spiders, and I’ll handle a plethora of lizards. I won’t do snakes. First sign, I’m calling quits and going home.” Well, it’s happened, but as it turns out, I’m too happy here to be ready to throw in the towel. I survived an encounter with a snake, a snake that came into my house through my closed door in Africa. I survived, and the snake definitely did not. Plus one to me.

The way things stand right now, I’m finished with training, and on the verge of swearing in. Back at home, my family and friends are headed back to school and enjoying the final days of summer. Here it seems that I’m stuck in a perpetual summer, a summer that’s about to get hotter and longer as I move to site and settle into the next two years, during the two hottest months. I’m grateful for God’s providence. I’ve been blessed with beautiful and supportive friends both here and stateside, good health, and high spirits as I move into this next stage. I look forward to transitioning from a Peace Corps Trainee into the life of a United States Peace Corps Volunteer. I hope to post again after I swear in to fill you in more on what this transition means.