As I pass the year mark in TG, I feel like I'm passing into a new era. The new group of volunteers arrive in country tomorrow afternoon, thus elevating our status as "old volunteers." Maybe their newness will punctuate how much I've learned here, how time is the main ingredient in forming some kind of understanding about a place. But ultimately I suspect that even a year of waking up to donkey love is not enough to pretend that I know anything at all. I can pretend all I like, and act less surprised when a woman who has borne twins provides me the timeless Mandinka medicine of stepping on my wounded legs, but really I'm a neophyte here myself.