Thursday, December 25, 2008

Rainy Season Ending


My host brother in the millet field

The rainy season ended a long time ago, but as you know I have failed to write in a while. The rainy season is the work season in The Gambia. My family goes out in the morning and afternoon almost every day from June until November. There is about a month break in August and September when the weeding is finished and people wait for the crops to ripen. My family grew peanuts called groundnuts, millet, sesame, and rice. I joined my family in the planting, weeding, and harvesting. After a morning and afternoon of weeding I do not envy their jobs. Farming is hard work and after a day of weeding by hand, all I wanted to do is crawl into the fetal position and not move. My lower back hurt badly after the day of bending over. It is amazing watching villagers especially the elderly women who weed for hours without rest bent over with their backs completely straight. (Gambians also grow watermellon, squash, and sweet potatoes.)
My host family separating the peanuts from the dried groundnut plant

This year I convinced my family to grow rice. Rice normally grows in paddies with lots of water, but my village is not near a water supply. There is a new type of rice, NERICA or dryland rice, that can be grown with little amounts of water. I wanted to introduce it to my area so my father and I decided to try a small field this year. Looking back at it, I wonder if it was worthwhile because I spent most of the time arguing with my family about it. I had difficult'y getting them to help me weed and harvest; I think they considered my project, not a family affair. In certain places, the weeds ended up being taller than the rice because my host family would not weed and I refused to do it all on my own (too big a job). We also had a problem with cows eating the rice. The villagers herd the large cows but they let the calves roam free. I cannot understand why they let the calves roam and destroy part of the crops. My father told me people do not agree to herding them and that they do not destroy a lot. In the end, we put cow dung in water and spread it over the fields which kept them away. But, even with all the problems, the rice did produce, and my father is saving seeds for next year. If he plants it next year, I can call it a success so I am keeping my fingers crossed that he will.

Me in the rice field

Next to my house I had a rainy season garden growing cucumbers, squash, sweet potatoes, cassava, and tomatoes. My American pumkin failed miserably. It produced one big pumkin. I kept constant tabs on it and on the day I was going to pick it, it collapsed in on itself completely rotten. My biggest success was cucumber. Unfortunately my village did not like it. They would eat one small piece to be polite, but would not go back for seconds. I ended up eating seven cucumbers in three days and still had some left. I gave one to a lady who is always nice to me. She started to cut it and offer it to the kids, but they had already tried it in my compound the day before and refused. In gambian culture, people must always say food tastes good so she refused to give it back to me when I said I would eat it. She kept forcing it down. By the the squint in her eyes and the puckering of her lips, I knew she found it really sour.

My garden and polypots (orange, lemon, and mango)

Now the men are starting to relax because their work is done. They build fences from time to time, but for the most part they can go back to brewing attaya, green tea, in the morning and afternoon. I think attaya can be considered the national pastime in the gambia.

Me and my host brothers brewing attaya

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