Lizard in my sheets, chick in my backyard, and the Jali massage parlor

Each day is filled with hundreds of moments that make me smile, laugh, and really appreciate my life here. Here are some highlights from my journal this month...

The back massage: While in South Africa, the physical therapist gave me some stretches to strengthen my neck muscles, so I usually do them outside at night with the kids, which is seriously hilarious. For one of these stretches, I put my hands on my shoulders and then move my shoulders in a circular motion. It's essentially giving yourself a shoulder massage. One evening, one-armed Binki was sulking. "I went to the hospital last week to get medicine, but it's not helping my pain-ing back." So I rubbed her shoulders a bit. She was moaning in delight while I was nearly crying from laughter. The next day, she said my hands are better medicine than her pills.

Surviving a mid-day bike ride: Once a week (at least) I head up to Keneba village, my neighboring village as I think of ice probably more than a teenage boy thinks about girls. Keneba village boasts a medical research hospital fully equip ted with 24-hour electricity (aka 24-hour ice) This time of year, it's really only possible to bike in the early morning and then right before the sun sets, so I'll go early, hang out with my friends there, DRINK ICE WATER, visit the school, etc etc and then just go back in the evening. Though, one day, I get a call that I have to get back to Jali because the well diggers had finally arrived. Exciting, but it's noon! My only option is to go back. As I sip on my refreshingly chilly water (which i place gently on my cheeks and neck between gulps), I come up with a plan on how I can realistically make it back to Jali without melting. I jump in a cold shower (yes, Keneba even has showers...) with my clothes on. This won't be enough. I then empty my friends freezer full of bags of ice and strategically elastic banded them around my body- one of the back of my neck, one between my hat and head, and the third on my lower back. I raced back to Jali and made it just as the ice had fully melted. Though, as I rode through the village, my chest and behind were completely soaked and everyone laughed at me. It was worth it and I would do the same thing again.

Lizard in my sheets: It was a long day in the garden and I didn't get back home until late. Exhausted, I crawl into my outdoor bed/cot and notice a strange smell. It's not my feet (for once...) but it's coming from my feet. Oh god. It hit me. Something has died and rotted in my bed. Words cannot describe this smell, and it's dark, and I just want to sleep! I pull up my thermarest, and the stench hits me like a ton of bricks...there it is...dead lizard rotting on the cot. Flies quickly come. Not dealing with this...I slept in my sauna-esqe house and cleaned it up in the morning. After 6 days of extensive bleach and soap scrubbing, the smell subsided. I learned my lesson and now bring my sheets in everyday.

Chick in my backyard: Goodmorning. The sun is rising, the roosters have called, and the day is about to begin. "TWEET TWEET TWEET" is shrieking in my ear. Somehow, the chick has gotten stuck in my fenced-backyard. After chasing it around in my underwear with a dust pan, finally had success! The poor thing was so scared. I think he learned his lesson. Ok, now we can start the day :)

The joys of the Gambian post office: (This one is dedicated to my Postmaster Uncle Chuck) I dread buying stamps, mostly because the workers at the post office don't know how to count or multiply, which I think are necessary skills for working at the post office, right? So trips to the post office always take a while. It costs 18 Gambian dalasis to send a letter from here to the states, so I either buy some D5 and D3 or if I'm lucky, they have D6. But on this particular trip, they only had D7 stamps. This is why I hate the post office.

My children's books: I have 4 children's books: One about 2 girls who love their pink tutus, one about a Christmas mouse who wants to go to the movies, another about a cat who is asking other animals what they are eating for lunch, and every one's favorite- Dippy the lonely Dinosaur. Talk about complete irrelevance to this culture, but none the less, better these than none! In the cat eating book, every page ends with "YUM YUM". My host kids and Fatoumata all asked what YUM YUM means, and I explained that you say that when you're food is very sweet. YUM has really caught on in Jali village. "How is your lunch?" I asked the old neighbor lady. "YUM YUM," she said with her toothless grin.