Resume Builder

One of the things that has gotten me through the boredom so far in my village is a soccer tournament that’s been going on. Just like in high school, girls dress up, sit at the football game, and use it as an excuse to look pretty and socialize. (In this case, looking pretty usually involves full African gear, but the westernized ones choose to wear tight bright pink jeans, and tube tops that say “SHINY” in sequins.) Boys go to the game to watch and yell for their team, but also dressed to impress with their too big embroidered jeans, Jamaican gear, and shirts that say “HEMP” and have a huge marijuana leaf on them.

At one of these soccer games, I was sitting near the table where the head honchos of the tournament sit. I started talking to the guy who appeared in charge, just trying to see what kinds of things they did in the community. He introduced himself as the chairman (or something) of the Nyakoi Sports Committee, and promptly brought over the President, Vice President, and Assistant Chairman or something. I had the same conversation with all of them, how I was really enjoying the tournament, loved all sports, and hoped to maybe start some soccer/literacy camps or maybe other kinds of sports tournaments or sports for girls. They seemed super jazzed, and promptly invited me to their “secret meeting” which was happening the following afternoon. I promptly accepted.

So the next day, I went to the meeting. I sat there for twenty minutes as the committee discussed many important issues. As they would finish a conversation, or it would start to wind down, one of the members who spoke English would look at me and say, “Did you understand that?” and I would say, “Well, no, but I know he said something about a table, and something didn’t come, and… that’s about it.” So my translator would then have the whole discussion for me again in English (which of course was nothing about a table). After a few such sessions, I heard one person say in the middle of a Mandinka sentence the words “female representative”. Since the only other female in the committee was sitting next to me, I thought they were surely talking about her. So when he asked if I understood, I said, “Yeah, you were talking about her” and pointed to the lady sitting next to me.

He informed me that, no, they were actually talking about me. And although I had been there for only twenty minutes, understood nothing of what had gone on, and elongated the meeting by at least double, they had all agreed that they would like to invite me to be the Vice President Female Representative of the Nyakoi Sports Committee… what?!?!

Adding it to the resume. Now now.

We had our second meeting yesterday, and I told them that I had big plans for a Frisbee tournament. They all said, “What? Fresh beans?” So, hopefully, in a few months, the tiny West African country of The Gambia will see it’s first Fresh Beans tournament.