In The Gambia, Simba is not a cute little lion cub who wants to be king. Simba is instead a lion-like masquerade that can only be described as horrifying yet somehow weirdly entertaining. Which come to think of it, is exactly how I felt about the Lion King as a kid.
From a young age, children are meant to work. It is their duty to not only obey, but to consider it an honor to be told to do a job.
Ñebey is a beautiful thing. Mostly because it is one of the few Gambian dishes that doesn’t include white rice.
I can now carry a full bucket of water on my head without spilling a drop. It is actually much easier than waddling the few hundred meters from the tap to my compound with the bucket awkwardly in-hand.
My teenage sisters wanted to say goodbye to me with swagger and style, to give me something I would never forget. So, they arranged a “meet and greet” with the village dance crew, “The American Boyz,” who performed a private show for me at our family’s compound.
I love all the Gambian breakfast porridges that my sisters typically cook for Sunday morning breakfast. Here’s a look at what the Jolas call “chorai” (pronounced with a long I). A more universal Gambian term for the dish is “Chorah gerte.”
Here’s my tally of random happenings that sum up my Peace Corps Pre-Service Training.
