Forgive me for not being in touch with you all sooner but I really couldn't be bothered to blog, just like I couldn't be bothered to go to work or even to get out of bed some days. I take heart from the fact that VSO warned us this would happen. They said that there is a natural cycle to volunteering in which you're initial excitement of being in a new country turns into frustration due to the difficulties of adapting to a new culture. Apparently it's just a phase and it will pass. It also helps in a way to know that when I returned to England for 2 weeks I felt sure that I would not be happy living there at the moment. Fair enough, I wasn't visiting England for the most joyous of occasions - my nan's funeral - but even so England seems so grey and structured and controlled…and cold, oh my goodness, I was so cold.

I was looking forward to returning to The Gambia and my first weekend back felt like I was on holiday. I acted like a proper toubab and went to Ocean Bay Hotel with the girls to lounge round the pool and drink wine during Happy Hour. On Monday I went back to work and everyone seemed pleased to see me and made me feel very welcome but I've found it difficult to readjust to the new culture again, I think I'm suffering from reverse-reverse culture shock, and I've been feeling seriously unmotivated for a variety of personal reasons. By Wednesday I didn't even bother to get up for work. I slept until midday and went into the office about 3pm to check my emails and left when I found we didn't have power, as per usual.

Things started to pick up on Thursday morning. I helped interview some potential Gambian volunteer teachers and then attended a meeting at United Nations House regarding International Volunteer Day on the 5th December. I was starting to feel more positive but then my friend called me on my way home crying and told me her gran had died too.

Death is a very common thing in The Gambia. In the 3 weeks I have been back I have heard of many deaths. In fact, 8 people I know have lost family or friends. Most of the time people can't give you reasons why. They say 'I don't know why. They were admitted (to hospital) on Monday and died on Tuesday.' And a lot of the time they say, 'It was their time to go; we are all just waiting for our time. God wanted them and he called them to him.' I guess their faith helps them to deal with their grief and so I just nod my head in agreement.

I've had it up to the back teeth with men telling me they are in love with me. I've always thought it would be nice to be irresistible to the opposite sex. Well I've had a taste of what it is like and it is doing my head in. I have a bunch of groupies who come knocking on my door at all times to check on me. I had words with one of them and he told me that he prayed to Allah and swore on the Holy Koran that he would never tell me he loves me ever again. I felt relief for a moment or two until he pleaded, 'But just tell me what I have to do to change your mind and make you love me?' Arrrgghhhh!

The tourists are in town and as a result I'm getting more hassled everywhere I go. I have borrowed a bike from VSO so I can quickly zip past any bumsters but instead they jump out in front of the bike to shout 'I love you' or they ride alongside me trying to get my phone number but nearly push me off the road. ARRRGGHHHH!

Their chat-up lines are pretty smooth. For example, a conversation I had with someone on the way to the beach on Saturday:

Annoying man: Ah, wonderful lady. I like you. You look very nice. We must get to know each other. I am just out of jail where I was put for 3 days for trying to speak to white strangers on the beach. Look at me I am filthy and now I'm going to a funeral. Can I have your number?'

Me: Hmmmmm, let me see…No.

I'm not blowing my own trumpet here. I tell you this to try and get you to understand what it is like living here. People lack opportunities to make a living for themselves; they see white women as their ticket out of Gambia and as a result we get hassled everywhere we go. The police really do have the right to move Gambian men on if they look like they are bothering us because it is a threat to tourism which is one of the biggest industries in The Gambia. It's a sorry state of affairs. Even so, it's driving me crazy and I have been barricading myself in my house and ignoring my phone so I don't have to speak to any men, which is pretty bad really isn't it?

An interesting thing about The Gambia is that they announce public holidays at the last minute. Last Thursday I got a text at 11pm saying there was a public holiday the next day. No-one seemed to know why. It was great on the one hand as I could go to the beach but on the other hand it meant that the work planned for Friday didn't get done and as a result I didn't have a clue what we were supposed to be doing on Monday. As it turns out we were training the newly recruited Gambian volunteers in order to prepare them to go up-country to teach in secondary schools. The training lasted all week. I didn't have much of a part to play so I just sat and listened and as a result I learnt a lot about what Gambian people think about The Gambia, about other Africans, about Western culture, religion, education, women, volunteering...it was very enlightening. Some of it made me really uncomfortable, some of it made me feel frustrated but some of it really resonated with me.

I realised that I need to heed the advice we have been giving to the Gambian volunteers. We told them; it's not going to be easy, it will be very challenging, but you are there to serve a purpose which is to educate young people and this is critical for the development of The Gambia so you must persevere despite the obstacles. I had a lovely moment when one of the younger volunteers was inspired by my stories about the benefits of volunteering, and that is exactly what I came to The Gambia for, so I will keep focused and persevere.

On a lighter note, on Friday I learnt how to body board properly. It was AMAZING. And then I got tipsy on red wine at the beach bar and was laughing smugly at the lilly-white toubabs on holiday when my wooden chair broke and I was left stuck with my bum on the floor and my arms and legs hanging over the sides of the metal frame. That's karma for you. As I'm now a surf chick I went out partying dressed in my swimming costume and sports leggings which I was very excited about. I danced salsa with some jump lunges thrown in for good measure although I kept losing my balance. I'll admit I was a little hung over the next day. I went body boarding for hours on Saturday and Sunday too and if you are stuck for ideas of what to buy me for Christmas then I would love a surf board, thank you very much.

I also frequented the Alliance Francaise on Saturday night to watch 'The Hendrix of the Sahara Desert' - Vieux Farka Toure & his band - who played a mix of blues and traditional Malian music. The Alliance Francaise has a beautiful little outdoor theatre surrounded by trees, the music was world class, and it cost me a mere 100 dalasi (£2) to get in plus I got a free drink! It was the best gig I've been to in a long time and I feel really lucky to have seen it.

And so this place really is confusing, one minute I'm hiding in my house, feeling isolated and reading by torchlight and the next I'm body boarding under the free tutelage of a lifeguard and lording it up at an outdoor concert. I'm not really sure what to make of it all.

I have no photos for you either this time. I couldn't be bothered to take any.

Be beneen yoon (Until another time) x