Thanksgiving / Birthdays
The Friday of the 21st I finished my last Statistics class of the evening. Other then having to grade 50 homework assignments I was quite relieved, as I would have absolutely nothing to do for 11 whole days. The homework assignment that I received back was the one in which I asked them to determine, for themselves, how their grades will be computed. Quickly glancing at their responses I knew already the outcome would be very close to 25%, 25%, 50%; exactly as planned.
By Saturday Ariane and Bethany were staying with us. Although the first night brought me to the couch; it was quickly realized the next morning that the bar that kept me up all night was no problem for Ariane, as she could fit quite easily into only half the couch. My bed was redeemed. People started slowly coming into Kombo and a new thing crept in, the "Kombo Cough". Everyone started getting sick. Not the usual sickness of village or African living of dysentery, or the like; but just an annoying running-nose-can't-stop-coughing sickness. For the first couple of days we all just sat around, and in between the coughs and sniffles maybe we'd say a few words or play a game or two.
I shall sum up the scenario of the next three days by one conversation that happened on Wednesday. In the living room were Annamarie, Ariane, Bethany, and I; all reading or doing something else individualistic. Annamarie looked up and without speaking to anyone in particular, although it may seem like it, just told a small story:
"You know, Mike, earlier today someone asked me: 'How's Mike doing living with three girls?' I told them 'He says he doing fine. But one morning he just woke up before everyone and without telling anyone just took a taxi to Banjul and spent the next three hours walking back by himself.'"
I looked up from my book, smiled agreeably and just said 'Yeap' and went back to reading.
That night we were going to celebrate Vidisha's birthday by having a potluck at the Fishbowl. At least 16 people were there, and probably more. In the group picture there is 13 people, the photographer, and two people were outside at the bitik at the time. [Unless my memory fails me, the 16 people were: Greta, Kate, Jenni, Marc, Krissy, Sarah, Alicia, Vidisha, Nicky T., Annamarie, Bear, James, Jordan, Erik, Ariane, and I] Remarkably, of those 16 roughly ten stayed there at the Fishbowl for Thanksgiving week. Before dinner a few games were played. A game of Chinese Checkers between Ariane, Bear, and I quickly finished when time-to-eat was announced by proclaiming Bear the winner automatically without contest. The food was varied, from lasagna to mashed potatoes to Easy-Cheese on crackers. Also included was Salad, Curry Potatoes, and (for the vegans) couscous with tomato paste. After everyone was full to stomach's delight desert was served of no-bake cookies and brownies.
As Bear, James, Ariane, and I stayed behind the rest went out for a night of Karaoke to celebrate.
Come Friday we had our all-volunteer meeting. The meeting was held across from the football stadium and started at ten. Throughout the two hours were discussions about the Hostel, our stipends, Vacation Days, out-of-work days, and other fun-filled categories to make you squirm in your seat from enjoyment. Two and half-hours later the main meeting broke up to start the next generation of meetings: The Group Meetings. Our group, Education, stayed in the same room and everyone else went somewhere else. We spent the next half-hour talking on issues of classes, programs in the future, and other stuff. A little after one-o'clock we adjourned for the day. Having two required meetings a year, some of the volunteers who been here a while and leave in July said at the end of the second meeting: "One more to go."
Being Friday, I went to the office to see if I could get a driver to go pick up packages. "They already went to Banjul today and do not want to go back. Come back tomorrow morning."
Saturday was a full day. In the morning there was the art auction that Greta and Annamarie helped set up mostly, and in the evening Thanksgiving Dinner at "Safari Garden". While the art auction was going on I was with Sam going to Banjul. As I opened up the post-office box and took all the letters out a voice from inside asked: "What box are you?"; "Box 582, Peace Corps"; "OK. Hold on, more letters." What followed next resembled a scene from Mary Poppins in which she pulls out a ridiculous number of items from her luggage. First comes a group of ten letters, then ten more, then a small package, then two small packages. "Still more!" the voice inside said. By the time we had pulled 'everything' out of the box we had a pile knee-high filled with letters and small packages. Sam and I turned around and saw we had a small crowd enjoying our little spectacle. I heard the voice say "Here!" and turned around again and was shocked to find the arm, fully extended, hanging outside the box holding a mail-bag to put everything in. With Addams-Family resemblance the hand retracted into the box, closing it at it went. I turned the key to lock it, pulled out the key and started laughing.
After getting the mail sorted I went back home and relaxed until Thanksgiving Dinner. That evening was the first time since coming into country that I wore a pair of shoes and not sandals. Dressed up and went to the restaurant. The entire restaurant was reserved for our dinner and they had a sign outside proclaiming it so for "American Thanksgiving". The meal cost D300 but it was all-you-can-eat. There's another problem with all-you-can-eat: when either there's not much food or more people then you anticipate the all-you-can-eat principal turns into all-we-can-serve. I'm not sure what caused it, whether the first or the second, but when the owner makes his way through the line to the food proclaiming 'Be conservative' you know the all-you-can-eat principal is out the window.
The food was good quality, though. They had all the usual Thanksgiving items, except mashed potatoes. That alone made people disappointed to some degree of the meal. I had two main courses and a plate of desserts. Around our table sat Marc, Hilary, Annamarie, Mariah, Jenni, Louis, and I. After a few hours we headed back to the house to change clothes, head to the beach, and flop down on the hammocks to relax.
Sunday was the day we agreed to celebrate Annamarie's birthday. It was, in actuality, the next day, but that's when the new ago-fo's swear in and we receive free food anyways. Around seven o'clock people started coming in. At first we thought it was going to be a small party of maybe five other people or so. This is what Annamarie thought. It was a little more than five: Marc, Alicia, Vidisha, Doug, Vicki, Greta, Jenni, Mariah, Jordan, Bear, Kate, Sarah, Ariane, Bethany, Annamariah, Jessamy, Janah, and I. All of them bringing something to eat. For the next few hours we sat around, ate more heartily than Thanksgiving, and listened to music. The one thing we did have there was plenty of mashed potatoes.
The next day was swearing-in ceremony. If the ambassador wasn't out of the country when we swore in we would have had it at his house. Instead we had it at Diana's. In order of main reasoning to going to this swearing-in party that day was 1. free (good) food; 2. check out the ambassador's house; 3. Meet the new volunteers. We all got dressed up again and walked the two blocks to his house. I never realized, until that morning, that the restaurant we always went to on the beach (Leybato's) was the next-door neighbour of the Ambassador. His front gate had security guards who checked ID's. Annamarie and Ariane forgot their ID's in the house and had to go back. Inside the gates the first thing you saw was an actual green grass yard. That's quite rare here. Next to the path leading up the house was his private tennis court. Walking up the path we were told to go to the back yard, around the house. As we turned the corner we saw his house overlooked the ocean (as expected) but between his house and the guarded wall to the ocean was his own private swimming pool. The American Flag was flying high above the wall.
Shortly afterwards the ceremony began. Although it started at ten in the morning the sun shined directly on us and we were sweating by the time the ceremony ended. The new volunteers were individually called up, shook hands and received a certificate. Next they sang a song; the same song we sang. You could here some of the older volunteers in the crowd sing it just loud enough to reach one or two people in distance.
When all the speeches were made, the ceremony completed and dignitaries allowed to go first; the food was served. All you can eat, Ambassador-style! Of the tables full of food the one thing that surprised me the most, and caught me by surprise was boneless chicken. There's one thing that having that meal reminds me of. When Forrest Gump exclaims: "The best thing about visiting the President, is the food! Now, since it was all free, and I wasn't hungry but thirsty, I must've drank me fifteen Dr. Peppers." Just replace President with Ambassador and you get the jiff of it.
The next day was back to work.
By Saturday Ariane and Bethany were staying with us. Although the first night brought me to the couch; it was quickly realized the next morning that the bar that kept me up all night was no problem for Ariane, as she could fit quite easily into only half the couch. My bed was redeemed. People started slowly coming into Kombo and a new thing crept in, the "Kombo Cough". Everyone started getting sick. Not the usual sickness of village or African living of dysentery, or the like; but just an annoying running-nose-can't-stop-coughing sickness. For the first couple of days we all just sat around, and in between the coughs and sniffles maybe we'd say a few words or play a game or two.
I shall sum up the scenario of the next three days by one conversation that happened on Wednesday. In the living room were Annamarie, Ariane, Bethany, and I; all reading or doing something else individualistic. Annamarie looked up and without speaking to anyone in particular, although it may seem like it, just told a small story:
"You know, Mike, earlier today someone asked me: 'How's Mike doing living with three girls?' I told them 'He says he doing fine. But one morning he just woke up before everyone and without telling anyone just took a taxi to Banjul and spent the next three hours walking back by himself.'"
I looked up from my book, smiled agreeably and just said 'Yeap' and went back to reading.
That night we were going to celebrate Vidisha's birthday by having a potluck at the Fishbowl. At least 16 people were there, and probably more. In the group picture there is 13 people, the photographer, and two people were outside at the bitik at the time. [Unless my memory fails me, the 16 people were: Greta, Kate, Jenni, Marc, Krissy, Sarah, Alicia, Vidisha, Nicky T., Annamarie, Bear, James, Jordan, Erik, Ariane, and I] Remarkably, of those 16 roughly ten stayed there at the Fishbowl for Thanksgiving week. Before dinner a few games were played. A game of Chinese Checkers between Ariane, Bear, and I quickly finished when time-to-eat was announced by proclaiming Bear the winner automatically without contest. The food was varied, from lasagna to mashed potatoes to Easy-Cheese on crackers. Also included was Salad, Curry Potatoes, and (for the vegans) couscous with tomato paste. After everyone was full to stomach's delight desert was served of no-bake cookies and brownies.
As Bear, James, Ariane, and I stayed behind the rest went out for a night of Karaoke to celebrate.
Come Friday we had our all-volunteer meeting. The meeting was held across from the football stadium and started at ten. Throughout the two hours were discussions about the Hostel, our stipends, Vacation Days, out-of-work days, and other fun-filled categories to make you squirm in your seat from enjoyment. Two and half-hours later the main meeting broke up to start the next generation of meetings: The Group Meetings. Our group, Education, stayed in the same room and everyone else went somewhere else. We spent the next half-hour talking on issues of classes, programs in the future, and other stuff. A little after one-o'clock we adjourned for the day. Having two required meetings a year, some of the volunteers who been here a while and leave in July said at the end of the second meeting: "One more to go."
Being Friday, I went to the office to see if I could get a driver to go pick up packages. "They already went to Banjul today and do not want to go back. Come back tomorrow morning."
Saturday was a full day. In the morning there was the art auction that Greta and Annamarie helped set up mostly, and in the evening Thanksgiving Dinner at "Safari Garden". While the art auction was going on I was with Sam going to Banjul. As I opened up the post-office box and took all the letters out a voice from inside asked: "What box are you?"; "Box 582, Peace Corps"; "OK. Hold on, more letters." What followed next resembled a scene from Mary Poppins in which she pulls out a ridiculous number of items from her luggage. First comes a group of ten letters, then ten more, then a small package, then two small packages. "Still more!" the voice inside said. By the time we had pulled 'everything' out of the box we had a pile knee-high filled with letters and small packages. Sam and I turned around and saw we had a small crowd enjoying our little spectacle. I heard the voice say "Here!" and turned around again and was shocked to find the arm, fully extended, hanging outside the box holding a mail-bag to put everything in. With Addams-Family resemblance the hand retracted into the box, closing it at it went. I turned the key to lock it, pulled out the key and started laughing.
After getting the mail sorted I went back home and relaxed until Thanksgiving Dinner. That evening was the first time since coming into country that I wore a pair of shoes and not sandals. Dressed up and went to the restaurant. The entire restaurant was reserved for our dinner and they had a sign outside proclaiming it so for "American Thanksgiving". The meal cost D300 but it was all-you-can-eat. There's another problem with all-you-can-eat: when either there's not much food or more people then you anticipate the all-you-can-eat principal turns into all-we-can-serve. I'm not sure what caused it, whether the first or the second, but when the owner makes his way through the line to the food proclaiming 'Be conservative' you know the all-you-can-eat principal is out the window.
The food was good quality, though. They had all the usual Thanksgiving items, except mashed potatoes. That alone made people disappointed to some degree of the meal. I had two main courses and a plate of desserts. Around our table sat Marc, Hilary, Annamarie, Mariah, Jenni, Louis, and I. After a few hours we headed back to the house to change clothes, head to the beach, and flop down on the hammocks to relax.
Sunday was the day we agreed to celebrate Annamarie's birthday. It was, in actuality, the next day, but that's when the new ago-fo's swear in and we receive free food anyways. Around seven o'clock people started coming in. At first we thought it was going to be a small party of maybe five other people or so. This is what Annamarie thought. It was a little more than five: Marc, Alicia, Vidisha, Doug, Vicki, Greta, Jenni, Mariah, Jordan, Bear, Kate, Sarah, Ariane, Bethany, Annamariah, Jessamy, Janah, and I. All of them bringing something to eat. For the next few hours we sat around, ate more heartily than Thanksgiving, and listened to music. The one thing we did have there was plenty of mashed potatoes.
The next day was swearing-in ceremony. If the ambassador wasn't out of the country when we swore in we would have had it at his house. Instead we had it at Diana's. In order of main reasoning to going to this swearing-in party that day was 1. free (good) food; 2. check out the ambassador's house; 3. Meet the new volunteers. We all got dressed up again and walked the two blocks to his house. I never realized, until that morning, that the restaurant we always went to on the beach (Leybato's) was the next-door neighbour of the Ambassador. His front gate had security guards who checked ID's. Annamarie and Ariane forgot their ID's in the house and had to go back. Inside the gates the first thing you saw was an actual green grass yard. That's quite rare here. Next to the path leading up the house was his private tennis court. Walking up the path we were told to go to the back yard, around the house. As we turned the corner we saw his house overlooked the ocean (as expected) but between his house and the guarded wall to the ocean was his own private swimming pool. The American Flag was flying high above the wall.
Shortly afterwards the ceremony began. Although it started at ten in the morning the sun shined directly on us and we were sweating by the time the ceremony ended. The new volunteers were individually called up, shook hands and received a certificate. Next they sang a song; the same song we sang. You could here some of the older volunteers in the crowd sing it just loud enough to reach one or two people in distance.
When all the speeches were made, the ceremony completed and dignitaries allowed to go first; the food was served. All you can eat, Ambassador-style! Of the tables full of food the one thing that surprised me the most, and caught me by surprise was boneless chicken. There's one thing that having that meal reminds me of. When Forrest Gump exclaims: "The best thing about visiting the President, is the food! Now, since it was all free, and I wasn't hungry but thirsty, I must've drank me fifteen Dr. Peppers." Just replace President with Ambassador and you get the jiff of it.
The next day was back to work.
posted by Mike | 2:03 PM
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