Around The World, Around The World

Dates: Oct 23 - Present
Location: The Gambia, West Africa

I have lived in four countries in four weeks and traversed four different continents if you count a layover in Brussels. Yesterday I celebrated my one year in-service. That’s one year since I officially swore in as a Peace Corps Volunteer. And I live in The Gambia. Who’d have thunk it?

So much to post, such a long hot walk to the internet. I know many of you are very anxious and excited to hear about my new life as an African-American!

Just kidding…I’m actually an American-African.

Alright, so for lack of knowing where to start, let’s try to start at the beginning. I left the continental U.S. in the afternoon of October 22, 2008 after a second round of goodbyes to friends and family and a feeling of déjà vu from having just done the exact same thing one year ago. After approximately 30 hours of travel I step down from the plane onto the soil of West Africa. Incredible.

The rapid transition without sufficient warning, planning, and mental preparation from country to country and continent to continent results in moments of confusion and/or panic from time to time. Sometimes I am a little disoriented and it takes a second to realize where I am. Exiting the plane was one of them.

I was on the same flight as the Foreign Minister of Taiwan, or some Equally Important Individual. There was a huge crowd of Gambians gathered for this occasion and as I walk down the stairs and exit the plane, I see this group of people and I am seized with panic. Large crowd of host country nationals = strike, protest, blockade. My immediate response: Turn around and walk away slowly. As my eyes look for an escape route, I begin to realize that this that this crowd of people is not angry. In fact, they are singing and dancing! They’re not protesting, they’re celebrating! As I miss the shuttle to the terminal due to this incredible sequence of events that really all took place within my slightly unstable mind, I remind myself, “Toto, we’re not in Kansas anymore.”

I continue with my entrance into the country of The Gambia and wait in line to pass through customs. The agent, the first Gambian I’ve met in the country, proceeds to take my passport, verify the information, and write down his cell number for me, telling me I “won’t regret it” if I give him a call. Some things never change.

I am greeted in the airport by four volunteers carrying a Peace Corps sign. Felt like home already. The driver takes me to the transit house. Unlike in Bolivia, where volunteers stay in hostels in their regional cities, the small country in which I am to live does not have even the same level of infrastructure as Bolivia. There are no hostels, and certainly no hotels within the budget level of a volunteer. So instead Peace Corps rents out a large house where volunteers stay. No more wireless internet of the Magdalena, the choice hostel in Santa Cruz, Bolivia. Goodbye to a pool outside your room, to social gatherings on the rooftop and cable television with CNN Worldwide. Gone to two people a room and welcome to dorm life. Up to six people per room, common areas downstairs with a lone television, a fully-furnished kitchen minus the microwave, and a nice little dining area outside complete with deafening power generator. Welcome to the Gambia.

I have been spending my days adjusting to the heat, traveling “upcountry,” living in the bush, or rural areas, and not understanding anything said to me- neither Pular, Mandinka, nor Wolof, not even the English. I am to do full training with the new group that arrives Nov. 6. Until then I have time to enjoy the country and the nightlife, get to know current volunteers, celebrate Halloween, celebrate the elections (or at least I hope it will be cause for celebration), and then lose my status as PCV- Peace Corps Volunteer- and return to the dreaded PCT status- Peace Corps Trainee. Put best by an RPCV- Returned Peace Corps Volunteer- still living in The Gambia, “It’s like going to the prom when you’ve already graduated.”

But, it was my decision to go through training and I am looking forward to the opportunity to learn a new language and meet another group of people who, in my heart, will never never replace my former Bolivian volunteers, but perhaps a group who will find a different corner of my heart to occupy, a space all their own. The new group will be a mix of health and agriculture/forestry volunteers. We will spend approximately 10 weeks learning one of three languages, plus Gambian English which, trust me, is nothing like the English I taught in Bolivia. There will again be culture training and technical project training, same as before. Many things the same, but I am different. Older, wiser, seasoned, at times jaded. More patient, more open-minded, more adventurous. The biggest change though is evident by looking at my luggage. Two fifty pound bags, one carry on luggage and one backpack. And almost all filled with food, including several pounds of Velveeta. Might as well bring my wish list with me.

Send me questions and I will send answers, and don’t you worry, more interesting stories with gory details still to come when I have the time. I believe I will lose internet access soon after the 6th for a period of time. Rumor has it that there is cell phone service in the training villages so perhaps I won’t be cut off from civilization after all. Contrary to the information that I received while still back in the U.S., I actually do not have a determined site. I may not be living on the beach like I thought, and though it is a bit of a bummer, great projects and great people beat out location any day. So I’m still optimistic about my options and I’m just waiting to see what this crazy life of mine decides to throw me next.

Signing off and sending love to all of you- my family, friends, and former PCVR’s, wherever you now may be.

Tammy Truong
PCV The Gambia