Today, I celebrate my first year of Peace Corps service. While it certainly has been a bumpy ride, it is one I will never forget….
A harmony of prayers echo around me as I reflect on these first few days of Ramadan. While I myself am not a Muslim, nor religious at all, it is beautiful. It is as if the chorus of voices sing the Arabic phrases — the only melody the usually-bustling village will hear until the moon is full again. Impromptu dance parties, wedding ceremonies and even naming babies are all on hold for the month devoted to prayer and worship.
My host father is a man of few words. But when he does speak, they are words of wisdom. When he speaks – people listen. In honor of Father’s Day, here are some quotes from the man I proudly call “Baba.”
It had been an excruciating few weeks to listen to my upcountry friends recount all their mango musings while waiting for the green gems to…
I am now an amateur beekeeper. And so is my brother, Bailo! Why we started raising African bees is a long story, and I want to tell it right. I need more time to collect my thoughts, but for now, I want to show you a little glimpse of what we have been up to.
On her six-month birthday, Fatoumata Jessica was cooing on my doorstep! My host sister from training village, Sainabou, delivered a healthy baby girl who was named after me and her grandmother (my namesake) in November. I told them they were welcome to visit any time and Sainabou’s husband promised he’d send them when the baby was a bit older. There are no little babies in my compound, let alone a little baby with my name, so I was ecstatic for her to visit.