Tuesday, April 30
In a white T-shirt we did it - uptown uptown - timeless. Gaza.

Monday, April 29
Since three days no sunshine in Basel, Switzerland. I get depressive. I don't need no love, no sex. Nothing. I will never be happy again. Nevertheless, I don't kill myself, I am not an educated lunatic.

Sunday, April 28
I don't care if I'd die. No fear of life.

Saturday, April 27
I should learn to be able to close my ears properly for not being disturbed by people' words I just catch by chance. By talking downright loudly certain people throw words into somebody's ears to make sure the importance what they say will have got by as many people as possible.

Friday, April 26
First thing to continue good is not get vex about the system here - when they come asking for contribution to establish their own one and only truth.

Thursday, April 25
I know why I am not a good artist. I am too much afraid of being considered as not normal. I am afraid of being misunderstood. I am afraid that people don't like what I do. And because of all those fears I finally don't do nothing. To conclude I have to become fearless. Yes. Just do and don't care.

Wednesday, April 24
My african voice has gone. Just arrived in Switzerland I miss it already.

Sunday, April 21
Conditions are different each time I travel to Gambia. My Mandinka talking is improving very slowly.

Friday, April 19
At the beach I've met an English guy who stays at Sheraton Hotel what is not far from our house. He asked me if I was here for party. Further he complimented me like how beautiful I was, how I could be traveling alone and that he would like me in his bed... smile smile smile. I just kept smiling while he was buttering me up. Blatantly he spotted my private parts. I thought how would Gambians feel when they were approached by strangers in that delicate way. Those kind of tourists they just think they are in a shop where they can ask for any kind of sex issue that comes to their mind. They have no calms about what they are doing.

Wednesday, April 17
The griots came. To ask for money.

Tuesday, April 16
Do you remember...? Lucky Dube live in Pfäffikon. I missed that one. That made me sad. You know - that feeling in your breast even in your whole body when you've been hurt? And then they killed him. I will never have the chance to have seen him live in concert.

Monday, April 15
From The House of Hunger by Dambudzo Marechera
When Nestar (what kind of father would give his child a name like that?) was cast out she knew nothing about survival in the streets. The married man who had made her pregnant beat her up when she went for help. She was twelve then. She slept in waiting rooms and lavatories at the bus station and the railway station. I don't know what she ate to keep herself going. Later when I asked her if she had thought of suicide she almost bit my head off.
"Suicide!" she scoffed. "That's for educated lunatics like you."

Sunday, April 14
The competition - Who has the most calls - I don't win. Probably who has the fewest of all is mine.

Saturday, April 13
Big Party at WOW. Strong sound !

Friday, April 12
Let it be like a never ending kiss...

Thursday, April 11
Work hard! Working hard is good. Everybody tell me that. Now I agree. Working hard is the best to feel it.

Wednesday, April 10
A young man, 30, father of two children working at Sheraton Hotel as a waiter, told me that before bumpsters began to use the term "Boss Lady" and "Boss Man" it had been the people working at the first hotels who approached guests by that kind to draw attention to their work. Because of the lot of unemployed bumpsing became a chance to work with tourists on a self employed basis.

Tuesday, April 9
I've learned two things:
Using "Big Man" and "Boss Lady" is Bumpster talk.
For Gambians to eat with their left hand is tabooed.

And: If someone has money, people will know and that someone has to expend it so nobody is jealous and peace will be provided.

Monday, April 8
Somebody told me that I am weak. I am tired like yesterday, but I am not afraid to be weak. No, there is more than just weak and strong.

Sunday, April 7
Depressions are killing energy. I am tired, don't like to do anything. In the morning I started with running. After, I went to a doing yourself shop - Mariama's shop - to check colour and prices for the painting of the house. Yesterday, near the beach, we saw a house painted in red and white. So we said that would be nice. I consulted the colour table and found a colour, called red brick. Then the Corinthian capitels which should be cleared from concrete came to my mind. I bought a hammer, cisel and sandpaper to do it. But after two hours I got tired and stopped. Since then I've been out of power.

Saturday, April 6
A day at the beach. Why not.

Friday, April 5
Where is the love society - A Sad Song
Sometimes I forget. There still exist relationships that are happy. Two people who love each other and do behave in a loving way. Who care for each other not as a duty but for pleasure. No big never ending fight. The same for you - the same for me.

Thursday, April 4
Beautiful - Ugly
The problem is I more or less always feel ugly. Primarily it is because of my advanced age. Something that I cannot change and that becomes more and more a problem in my life. I belong to the elders and get allocated to the margin of society into the passive part of observing. A lot of tourists in The Gambia are elderly people. I've never met them, but I see them on the street. Looking ugly. Mostly red because sunburned and badly dressed in shorts and sunhat. But the Gambians like them somehow. Without guides they look stranded. They need the Gambians to find their way what means there is a job, there is money. So, if somebody sees me puts me into that category of people on first sight. That means I have always to start from zero explaining who I am. However, there is also the catagory of wifes. Those women from abroad who married a Gambian - like me. I see them - usually in their wedding dress - on framed pictures in their family's houses. But I never meet them. Last Tuesday I attended a marriage ceremony of a Gambian and British Lady for the first time. A few other white people attended, but I didn't get in touch with them. They just looked at me sizingly - who is this woman. But they didn't try to find out. Most of the time white people are not open to each other. Like an invisible wall prevents any contact.

Wednesday, April 3
Africa is not easy. I often hear people saying it. As a stranger I sometimes feel like I'll never understand. It's not only the pigments - them they make it obvious - but the lack of experience living in Africa. I feel like I'll never be able to assimilate. Oftenly I stick too much to the education system I've been experiencing most of I life. But I try, try, try not to think that I know it all but be open.

Tuesday, April 2
Barbara Makeda Blake Hannah
Moreover, as a woman, Rasta-woman, African-woman a friendsonly relationsship sis a finely-balanced and delicate entity, preserved only by discretion and respect.
But I remember the privilege of being present one still, cool afternoon among brethren and fragrant cool herbs, when music flowed out of Bob (Marley) like pure water from a fountain - song after song, melody after melody, some with words others a snatch, a verse ... just music, music, music.And Bob, in smiling answer to our amazement, saying simply: "Not I, but the Power fo the Most High in I...

Monday, April 1
When I text you it means I miss you. When I don't text you it means I am waiting for you to miss me.
While cleaning the floor from paint I hit my head badly on the window sill when I came up. I only could think How can I be that stupid. Fools day... Later we have been to a beach party. The sea healed my pain. Has been beautiful. Later Fireman at Sunsplash. I was the only woman among 50 men. That is boring.