Ndanka, Ndanka

Aug 29- Aug 31

Ndanka, ndanka (slowly, slowly)

The trip from Dulles to JKF was uneventful, as was the flight across to Dakar. South African Airways was very nice, but it was hard to sleep on the plane. Upon arrival in Dakar, Senegal we cleared customs and claimed our bags. One of Rachel’s bags never made it onto the plane and a laptop that was purchased for a professor at UTG was stolen from Femi Ojo-Ade’s bags.

Femi is the former head of International Language and Culture at SMCM. Displaying one of his many fluent languages (French, Spanish, Portuguese, English, Nigerian languages, ect.) he talked to the security guard and told him that we were headed to The Gambia. Because of his help, we did not need to run our bags through the x-ray machine. From there we walked out to meet our bus and we were bombarded by lots of Senegalese far too willing to carry luggage at 5:30 in the morning. We didn’t let them carry our luggage, but while we were waiting for our bags to be tied on top of the bus and covered with a tarp, we were further bombarded while we were sitting in the bus. One young man in particular was haggling us through the window and angrily telling us to pay him for helping with the luggage, although he didn’t. Dan deferred him to Rachel, but he was further upset because she is a woman. The situation escaladed with the man trying to enter the bus and Femi getting out and screaming at him in French and then in English. He threatened to call the authorities and then told him “Don’t worry, you are sick, you will die” in his Nigerian accent. The Senagelese man told Femi that he did not know the color of his skin and Femi replied “You know not to whom you are talking.” We finally left the airport after first getting the bus to start.

Femi was upset from the start at the condition of the bus for such a long trip. It was a UTG bus that was driven from The Gambia. We got lost on the way out of the airport as the engine puttered along. We were in bumper to bumper traffic and made no distance. Once traffic cleared, the engine gave us trouble and repeatedly stalled out. We had to pull over a total of 4 times for break downs. Our driver Bakary would then take two empty water bottles and go to a farm or store to get water to pour on the hot engine. I don’t think the engine was overheated though, it seemed to be losing pressure. We were stopped at a routine checkpoint and then set on our way. A temporary Plexiglas replacement window flew off of the bus about ten minutes before the next checkpoint where Senegalese police pulled us over. The chief asked about the window and our driver told him that it had just happened. The window was not really of any importance, the officer was just looking to get something from us. After dealing with the officer, we were stopped again, this time for speeding. Our slow stalling out ndanka ndanka bus was not capable of speeding, but the road checkpoints spotted a foreign car and flagged it down. The chief seemed very friendly and asked us our opinion of George W. Bush. He ended up asking for a pen and paper and we students naively gave it to him. Femi told us never to give anything to them again. We were on our way shortly after that.

The time was 11:27 and we stopped to buy some water and food. We bought bottled water and fresh baguettes that would hold us over for hours to come. The bread cost next to nothing. We walked into the shop, and Femi ordered for all of us in French, they put fresh baked bread on the dusty counter and we were again on our way.

We were again stopped at a checkpoint, and Bakary did his routine bout of getting out of the bus to bribe the police man. He came back and told Femi that he wanted something, but Femi declared we had nothing to give the man, and to tell the cop to come speak to his professor. Bakary ended up giving up his water and Femi’s leftover Coke to the policeman. Femi told Bakary to tell the cop that he set a curse on the drink and he would faint. Again on our way.
We had travelled for a long time, covered a trivial distance, and still had a long way to go. We then stopped for a pee break at a wall next to a corn field where people were working. The pissing proceeded.

Later, the bus driver noted that the Senegalese are greedy people. I doubt that it is true in general, but the policemen sure are corrupt. Soon after, we were stopped again for speeding, but then the officer stepped away as another car was flagged down. Femi said, “Let’s go before he changes his mind.”

We were still far from The Gambia border, and worse roads were ahead. Around 1:30, 7.5 hours after landing, the road turned for the worst. There were lots of potholes, but less police in the country side. We were lost again at a crossroads and stopped to ask directions. Femi could not understand why UTG would send a bus driver who did not know the way. It turns out though that our driver was very helpful and a friend of Bill Roberts.

Police. Again. This time the cop asked if we had room for another passenger, and a young uniformed military man named Ahmed around the age of 19 or 20 joined us on the bus. He proved useful, because when we were flagged down the police saw that he was on our bus and we didn’t have to stop.

The roads and fields had increasing numbers of goats, both free ranging and with goatherds, especially young boys.

Later we stopped because the door on the bus broke off of the slider and Femi tells the driver that we must be on our way. He then says that he will tell the UTG mechanic that “This one is junk. Never use it again, how can you bring this to Dakar.”

The army man was dropped off around Koulack and at 2:53 we made a wrong turn at a crossroads and had to ask directions. The road sides were now characterized by markets, cars and trash…far less goats. We were stopped again, this time by a military man. After that we stopped to tip a man who was repairing the roads.

By 5:30 we were almost to the border crossing. We stopped and filled out paperwork with the Senegalese government and bought fresh roasted cashews and oranges from children selling through our bus windows. At 6:15 we drove our bus through The Gambia and past a police checkpoint that said to stop. We beeped to let them know we were coming through instead. I guess that the University bus is well known. We pulled up to a ferry landing on The Gambia River where the cars and people were closed behind big gates and surrounded by walls. We met some 19 year old British boys in line who were on vacation. I also took the opportunity to buy coffee and I found out the equivalent of 50 cents for coffee was far too much. The bus driver wanted to go and get the money back from the guy but I said that it was okay. We hung out with the Brits on the 3rd story of the ferry and were off the boat by 8:30pm Gambia time. We exchanged emails and we might see the guys later this week.

The bus wouldn’t start on the ferry, so at my suggestion we all got off and gave it a running start. We hopped back on and drove from Banjul to Kanifing. We arrived at the house at 8:53pm. It is a beautiful house and we had a nice dinner of chicken, salad and potatoes. Femi is moving to his own residence tomorrow night, but tonight he is in our house. We have 5 bedrooms occupied, and two vacant.

Baax Na (It is good)

Nathan