nearly there!

i'm happy to report that we are one wall away from being finished with the painting and the nursery looks GREAT! yesterday was a big day for the project as about 35 men and boys turned up to paint. given that we only had 4 rollers and 3 brushes, the 28 other men had plenty of time to drink attaya and hang around in a grand show of gambian support. the cream classroom walls and sky blue outside look fantastic, and this means that i can get the artist started on the mural this week! hooray!

in other news, abuko nature reserve on saturday was very cool and i'm glad we made the effort to get there - a beautiful side of the gambia, tropical and lush, that i'd not really seen before amidst the red dusty roads, termite mounds and mango trees of the village. we saw crocodiles, monkeys, turtles, hyenas (ok, these were in captivity), and lots and lots of beautiful birds. we found ourself a really nice gambian guide called musa - and sandra and i have agreed that we may meet up with him again this saturday for a boat ride down the river, he has a friend with a boat, in an attempt to check a few more boxes off our 'must do in the gambia' list.

i'm in fajara today to pick up a package my dad had sent with the jolly phonics music (thanks dad - arrived in perfect time!) so that i can leave the jolly jingles with the teachers who are coming up for training tomorrow. so spent the night at sandra's, thankfully in a bed with a ceiling fan, sans mosquitoes! we had dinner last night at leybato and spent a good three hours reminiscing and laughing and philosophizing about our time here.

it was the kind of conversation where a bottle of red (or two) could have kept us up all night attempting to analyze the issues, solve the problems and debate the solutions. lots of questions that really have no easy answers, and where three months of living in west africa can't begin to justify permission for attempting answers.

the conversation started when i asked sandra how much of this experience will really make a difference in our lives when we return? not in the sense that every experience a person has contributes to who they are (and blah blah blah) - but in the sense of how it will affect daily life. will she, for example, return to her straightening iron and asymmetrical catwalk haircuts? will i, for example, spend hours wandering the aisles of whole foods drooling over the basil-infused olive oils and garlic and rosemary sourdough?

i couldn't help but wonder: is it possible to wish for something with all your might while at the same time, hope it doesn't actually come true?

(ha ha. how very carrie bradshaw. intended, of course).

for example (more examples) - i can't wait for luxurious showers under a hot and steaming tap - but i hope i don't forget the economy of a bucket shower, remembering how little i actually need. i can't wait for anything other than fish and rice for dinner - but i hope i don't gorge myself the second i step off the plane just because i CAN, and can for 24 electrified hours of the day if i want. i can't wait to get some new underwear and a change of outfits - but i hope i don't succumb to the materialistic consumerism so rife in the first world, again, just because i CAN. i'm looking forward to fast paced, quick-witted conversation - but i hope i don't forget that it's not always about what i say but rather about how i choose to act and what i choose to do. and i hope that i remember the routines i've established here - but that my excitement for companionship doesn't overshadow the sense of self that has kept me strong here.

so we both agreed that in some ways, we will probably go back to being who we were when we left to a certain degree. (though sandra claims she would like to be a bit more 'salt of the earth' - i like to think she's secretly envying my peasant skirts and faded bandannas, and will get herself a pair of birkenstocks upon return to montreal. though i'm probably wrong). i'm sure for at least a month or so, we'll be converting things into dalasi and finding ourselves dumbfounded at how much we're prepared to pay for the luxuries that we once thought commonplace. but after the first few months, when friends tire of hearing african tales, when the dollar is no longer 1 to 18.50, and when our frame of reference, once again, returns to north america - what then?

this was my challenge to us last night. because i fear it will be easy to slip forward (not back, but still a slip) into what is comfortable and safe, convenient and easy. i bought a hand broom made of palm leaves that they use here every day to remind me of the women who bend at the waist every morning to sweep the sandy floor of the compound. but will *i* use it to sweep my kitchen? unlikely.

perhaps next weekend, likely my last in fajara, sandra and i can find a bottle of red and see about finishing the conversation.