Little girl in one of the compounds I collected from
Breakfast
She looks like Tintin because she's in the middle of having her hair braided. Perspective does odd things and I can assure you that the other girl is actually some way behind her, not hitting her on the head
This little boy was born in the compound where I collected donkey dung to bait my traps. The family wanted to name him after my husband so he almost ended up called Jeff....
...I could just imagine the conversation in fifteen years time: "Mum, why do I have such a weird foreign name?" "Well son, on the day you were born a woman came to our compound to pick up donkey shit, so we decided to name you after her husband" "Really?!?? Umm, gee, thanks Mum"....
...unfortunately, at the naming ceremony (shown here) the elder got a little confused and as the Wolof for thank you is Jere Jef he called the baby Jere instead
The men of the family sit waiting for the ceremony to start. At the back of the compound the women rush around preparing huge pots of food. Toubabs apparently get classed as honorary men
The Imams (I handed the camera to my fieldworker Kemo at this point so he'd know who and what it was acceptable to photograph)
The ram about to be slaughtered
Little chap pretending to be doing the slaughtering, in the same way kids here might copy their parents cooking
Little soon-to-be-Jere
The baby's head is shaved with water containing all the foods he'll eat in his life - rice, porridge, milk, a bit of stew
Shaven baby, a week later
Angelina moment (also wtf has happened to my left wrist?)
My fly traps, set out on the tennis court of the Roman Catholic Mission (those missionaries knew how to live)
Flies!
Vassie, one of the mission cats and the reason the traps had to be safely fenced off on the tennis court
Another spectator
We had to make our own entertainment, or in my case our own i can has cheezeburger
The Roman Catholic Mission, Farafenni, where I lived, worked and went slightly insane
The courtyard
The mission cats, Vassie and Claire. After a while I started talking to them. When the guards questioned me about this it was hard to resist the temptation to pretend that English ctas talked back
Health and Safety gone mad, Gambian stylee - the biohazard store
VIP latrine behind the guards' quarters http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pit_toilet#Ventilated_improved_pit_latrine_.28VIP.29
The guards at the mission were surprisingly entrepreneurial, running at least six businesses from charging for the use of the mission phone to cannabis sales. Business #3 was sales of feremented lime juice from the mission lime trees. What I found fascinating is that there's a Gambian folk theory of fermentation that explains all the observable phenomena - apparently there's gas mixed in with the juice that would spoil it if it stayed in there. Leaving the juice in the sun makes the gas bubble out, then once it's gone the juice won't spoil. Obviously it's wrong but as theories go it's pretty cool
The mission graveyard
I found this thing in the kitchen. There's a small prize for anyone who can explain what it's meant to be for, until they do I shall assume it's for doing unspeakable things to goats
Bacon-to-be. In a Muslim country, the only place to put a pig farm is next to the Catholic mission
Arty shot
The cutest little rabies vector in the whole world - the mission dog, imaginatively called Mission Dog.
Apparently he was supposed to be guarding us
Very diligent
Mission loved shoe laces, and said "Play with me!" by pawing your feet. This made vector-avoidance somewhat problematic
Fan with a broken neck in my room
The Blob - my mosquito net which looked like what would happen if a wedding dress mated with something you'd find at the bottom of the Marianas Trench
The blob deployed. Also illustrated is the creepy Raggedy-Anne printed pillow cases - a bale of the stuff you cut dolls out of somehow ended up in The Gambia and someone turned it into bed linen. They stare at you in the night
Arty shot #2
Entomological interest in the shower - a cricket, with toes to show scale
This little boy has quite a story, which I may put on the blog at some point
2009, Farafenni period, Kitchen with Flowers and Detritus of Trap Making
Caffeination Station
Things don't get fixed, instead notes like this appear
Zena from the PRET study (http://www.eliminate-trachoma.org/countries.html) in typical PRET pose - texting, surrounded by drugs, slurping hot tea off a spoon in order to drink it as quickly as possible
Suffering for science
Wish I could take macro pics
Farafenni streetscene, with small girl gleaning Lord-knows-what
Vintage adverts
Food hygiene, street cafe style
Water tap in the street. One of the local families will keep the key
Bring your own trowel
Kemo my fieldworker and horse
Horse owner and horse
Kemo's sheep house
Dunno why I took all these pictures of sheep. Maybe it's the Welsh ancestry
Tying theTabaski ram to the roof of the jeep http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tabaski
Kemo's wife and family
What happened when the kids tried to use the camera
=
Kemo got me a Gambian outfit made up as a goodbye present
I can wear it without looking gormless, but unfortunately there's no photographic evidence of this fact
