Two names adorn dozens of scars on Cassondra Coleman Schoppe’s wrists. On her left — her mother, “Marilyn.” On her right — her brother “Timothy.” The tattooed inscriptions replace flesh once stained with blood. The dedications serve as motivation to never fall that low again. In alcohol-fused hazes, Coleman Schoppe, a University of Nevada, Reno alumna, slit her wrists once in 2003 and again in 2007, shortly after the unexpected deaths of her two family members.
My name is Jessica Danielle Fryman, but I also answer to Fatoumata Camara.
I know three languages, the third being a tribal tongue less than one percent of the world speaks. I like to run even though I’m not that good at it. I read a lot. And I once published a book I wrote, setting all the type by hand on an old-fashioned printing press. I’m an avid traveler and amateur photographer. I’m also a master spider-killer and possess the ability to stalk my prey without the squeamish screams of my former urban life.
I’m originally from Las Vegas, a city with more people than the entire country where I currently live. I now reside in a two-room concrete house with a tin roof and a ceiling made of rice bags. I eat with my hand out of a shared food bowl. I walk down a dirt road to fetch my water and carry it home in a bucket on my head. And yes, I even poop in a hole in the ground.
Read more about me here.
The Gambia, known as "The Smiling Coast of Africa," is the smallest country on the continent's mainland. Just 210 miles long and no more than 30 miles at its widest point, The Gambia carves out a space in Senegal on either side of the picturesque Gambia River.
Although many regional languages are spoken, the official language is English. A majority of the 1.8 million people are Muslim. About a third of the population lives below the international poverty line on less than US $1.25 per day.