With thanks for stuff

On the off chance that a packing prospective VSO is following this blog my mind has turned to the stuff I have found particularly useful. One of my many internal contradictions is that I hoard everything as I will find a use for it one day. Those of you who've had homemade cards or wrapping paper will appreciate this, and most of this craft kit was passed on to an imaginative home who see the value of a piece of plastic shaped like a leaf, However, I also have a make do and mend attitude, once making a jewellery holder out of a painted stick with nails in it, and from my mother I've inherited a "with just a bank card to my own money, passport and my own sense I can survive anywhere" attitude. Therefore my thinking when coming to The Gambia was largely "people survive there. I'll be fine". Yet some items of baggage have proved their metal.

1. Scarves
Dad and Eileen bought me a beautiful scarf for Christmas. Blue to match my eyes, with tiny yellow dots, it's perfect for my capsule wardrobe. It's served as an impromptu blanket in the back of a windy pick up (as I write), a beach dress when tied halter neck, covered me from the sun or in favour of modesty and wrapped tightly as insulation to slow the melting of frozen water on a day's hot travel. Another scarf has done time as a laptop bag to general acclaim ("it's very African!") leaving one linen scarf from mum for smart occasions.

2. Swiss Army Knives
The massive advantage of having gadgety folks dating various members of your family is that they value a tool kit. Christmas therefore brought two Swiss Army knives both now in heavy use, one carried around the other at home. Additionally Uncle John found a version with pliers which has mended bag zips, bike frames and desk drawer locks.

3. Rechargeable lamp
Given the mosquito net, having a lamp that works without constant mains power by the edge of my bed is very handy. Margaret bought me a lamp and I found myself a wind up head torch, both of which have turned my netted bed into a small sanctuary each evening, regardless of the availability of power. I seem to now be used to walking by moonlight but my handbag torch does still have its moments.

4. Bed sheets
The pillows I bought here are lovely but finding sheets to fit the bed leads down either very expensive or very inadequate routes. I had some which served but a too small sheet means a nightly fight with a wandering cover becoming tied up around one's legs. And so, on my last trip to England, my grandparents gave me some old double sheets. The difference this makes to sleep quality is significant, plus who doesn't sleep well at their Gran's house? Additionally the double duvet cover I carried originally serves as a sheet sleeping bag when travelling in unknown levels of comfort and cleanliness.

5. The sanity bag
When I was packing both mum and Lizzy suggested I take one bag to make sure I'm comfortable, containing clothes, toiletries, first aid etc, and one bag to keep me sane. In my case this includes my paints (even if I had to restock on paper), books, and luxuries which I now know includes a small block of Parmesan cheese, a few small bottles of red wine, a rechargeable tiny speaker for my iPod, and some Pukka Three Ginger tea. This sanity bag has served its purpose well, giving me access to my favourite things no matter what is happening around me. I can capture The Gambia in my own way, exploring the colours and texture of newly met flowers by adding huge frangipani blossoms to a bare wall. I can send personalised cards home, make new memories as I drink tea, sate longings for European music or radio podcasts. Long term VSO John has a similar bag with fishing tackle which has given a crowd of us days at the beach and a new skill to try. Most importantly this kit keeps us in a frame of mind where we can improvise and make do for other requirements.

Of course there are other handy items: photos for the wall and a photo album to show new friends, a journal and daily diary, a cup with my name on, a potato peeler, a kindle, and summer pyjamas (light enough to wear, modest enough to allow sleep as the compound boys to walk past my window) Most of this stuff came as gifts from people with a good idea. Other people's thoughtfulness is helping my day to day life. And what makes that especially exciting is that every time I use the gift or the idea I think of the kindness of the person who gave it to me.