Written June 6, 2016
I arrived to my village yesterday. It is a small village in the lower river region of The Gambia. It is full of red sand and mango trees. The children here run and play freely right alongside the goats, chickens cows, and donkeys. My host father owns cows, sheep, and chickens. At night, gathers his cows into a general area. My host mother is a lively woman with dark skin like licorice. She's quite beautiful! She had seven children that I have met but I only remember my little brother Ali. He says he is 22 but I think he might actually be younger. Today we sat under one of the mango trees in front of our compound and he said to me, "Why have you come to this place? I want to go someplace beautiful." I told him that I thought the village to be quite beautiful indeed. After that my host mother and two of my younger siblings went to the school for a program. A zimba dancer in an elaborate lion costume proceeded to entertain us by dancing, scaring little children and chasing away anyone that did not have a ticket. It was a crazy interesting welcome to my new home.
I just got done fetching my water from the tap and a group of small girls got quite the laugh at me trying to carry water on my head! I laughed too but its amazing how much lighter the bucket is on your head than in your hands.
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Kanika: Poet. Lover of Words. One who tells the stories of the mundane and inanimate. Bearer of Light, Water, and Sky.