Its that magical time of the year....

It came yesterday, enveloping the village and turning the surrounding fields into tiny whirlwinds of sandstorms. The coos is harvested and the groundnuts will be all unearthed in due time. The air is warm and dry, blowing south as the Sahara takes over our narrow strip of the Sahel for the next couple of months. The Harmattan, strong and viscous, devouring every live plant in site has come to The Gambia. It came fast, as it always does. I woke in the morning a little bit cooler than usual and biked to Mbollet Ba, the next village over, to work with the teachers with their phonics lessons for the day. As I pulled into the school yard the days first gust of strong wind was taking over the dirt football pitch and rending my entire sense of vision useless. The gusts were so powerful throughout the day that the headmaster dispersed the students right after school, forgoing the usual 2:00 prayer held on that same football pitch that is required of all students at this school before they can head home for the day. The children were glad to be released to escape the punishing sandstorm that had been invading their classrooms all day due to the schools utter lack of protection in the form of either a tree or stone fence. It's just dirt and dry dead grass for as long as you can see. The day stood in sharp contrast to the previous days stagnant heat. As I biked the two kilometers home, I cursed the headwind and the dust that was now nestled in every crevice of my clothes and body, but was thankful for the breeze to ease the oppressive sun and the cool nights and morning that I had to look forward too and that were the happy bonus to the dusty Harmattan days.



Having now experienced every season The Gambia has to offer, and some of them twice, I have decided that the cold season and its very frigid temps of 65 degrees at night, is my favorite. The dust is just a small price to pay for the luxury of not sweating profusely, even in your sleep. And with the cold comes lovely things that make me appreciate and cherish my moments here. Things like school in full swing, preparing food for big programs with the teachers at school, joking and laughing with my teachers at school, scout drumming, having all the teachers come together for a workshop as I try to teach them new methods and having them actually listening, Inter-kunda sports tournaments, Tobaski, Christmas, nights huddled around the fire with my family listening to Pa tell crazy stories, small boying kids to bring me limes, groundnuts, and cashews from the bush, early mornings spent shivering as I drink my ritual cup of tea, visiting the women's garden and watching the kids try the new methods they have learned in class, seeing a teacher or a student genuinely excited to learn and try something new and utter lack of bugs. I love all these aspects of my life here and maybe the anticipation of experiencing all these things again is what pulled me back after my brief sojourn in America and gives me the motivation to finish out my time here.