Sweat leaked down my cheeks and off my nose although I stood in nothing but my underwear. It was eight days after arriving in country — only the fourth with this family — and my Gambian sisters were stripping me bare below the corrugate iron roof that absorbs the African heat.
My sisters say their goal is to make me so fat I am unrecognizable when I go back to America, so everyone will know how great Africa is. I’m doing my best to counter their evil conspiracy!
I am learning the language and culture throughout the next 10 weeks through classes and integration with my host family. I live in a Jola compound in Soma, which is a big town about 1/3 inland, south of the river. Although many live in squalor, my family seems to be well off. The compound has 10 two-room houses, many of which are beautifully furnished.
I shaved my head — all 10 inches of my thick, brown hair — four days after I moved to Africa. Why?
After the flight to Brussels, more waiting and the final flight to Gambia, we arrived after nearly 36 hours of traveling. As we arrived, my nerves were replaced with pure excitement
I’m not sure exactly what to expect, other than the experience of a lifetime. I likely won’t have regular access to electricity; but don’t worry, I plan to update my blog with many stories each month. I will set them on a timer, so that you see fresh content every week and never miss a beat! Thanks for your continued love and support.
But neither the time nor miles seemed to matter. I reconnected with many friends and family and we picked up where we had left off, so to speak, and caught up on all our misadventures. When we weren’t swapping stories, the best part was to just be — like old times.
