Sept 18

Nakam?

Yesterday’s rain was very powerful. The streets were rushing with rain and it made me wish that the water was moving a little bit faster and little bit deeper, and that I had a kayak. I’m sure that experience would be very similar to that of the rapids on the Potomac, especially with the amount of sewage and parasites floating around. We called Femi to see if we would have class, and he said that it was on. He called us soon after and said that the roads were too bad and he wasn’t able to drive all the way to our part of town. Class was rescheduled for today. It also rained this morning, but in a more composed fashion.

Let’s talk about bribery. It has been discussed in both my Environmental Management class and in African Leaders in the Modern Era. Environmental Management in the Gambia is a class where we look first hand at government documents pertaining to the environment in contrast to those suggestions in practice. The conclusion that we came to last class is that much of the proposed course of action fails to occur. If for some reason environmental officials decide to take action and enforce something, the companies in question are likely to not be complying with code. The result is that a company might pay off an official to make the record books look nice. Pretty typical. The same thing happens in the States, but people try to be smug and conceal it. Bribe takers and politicians should just man up and admit that there is corruption in big business (especially agribusiness), but then of course they could not longer take bribes or be successful politicians.

We talked today in African Leaders about the many coups in Nigeria’s short history, and the role that money and corruption can play in politics. Femi raised the question of whether or not people deserve the kind of government that they have. In Achebe’s book A Man of the People, the people support a swindling, crowd pleasing corrupt leader, so that’s the kind of leadership that they get. Is a leader really a reflection of the people? I suppose that a bad leader could be a reflection of the peoples’ apathy and indifference, but at times bad leadership is forced upon people who don’t like it. But then would that leadership have been allowed to arise if the people were able minded enough to take action. People. People. People.

I took a van to the post office today and then walked back. I went to pick up my package of Port City Java coffee from my parents. Thanks mom. I’ve been drinking the Gambian favorite, instant Nescafe for the past few weeks. I suppose life could be worse.

After I received my package I had to take it to a different table for inspection with customs. The workers opened up the box and had a look. They told me that it had a strong smell. I’d call the smell awakening. The girl working said that I had to wait until she checked with her boss for a customs fee. The man who was helping me originally said that I shouldn’t need to pay a fee because I am a student at UTG. I asked her how much the fee was, and before getting a concrete answer I told her in Wolof, “Loloo dafa ser” (that is too expensive). Her boss came and after going through greetings I told him that I was a student he sent me on my way and told me to “have my fun.” I’m not sure what that means. Apparently I was supposed to pay a 25 Delasis customs fee but I didn’t even pay that. Then I went about mailing in my absentee ballot form. I didn’t vote for McCain. I hope that it arrives safely.

When I left the post office, I bought a peeled soranz (orange) off of the street for 3 Delasis (12 cents). It looked very ripe and juicy, but before biting into it I was stopped by a tall and imposing man. He showed me his identification and said that he was an immigration enforcement officer. I asked him to let me read his identification, and he put it closer so that I could read the information. His picture matched the ID. I tried to hold the ID to better inspect it, but for some odd reason he wouldn’t let me. He asked to see my identification. I asked him what kind and he told me my passport. I also repeatedly asked him why he needed to see it. I told him that I don’t carry that kind of identification with me (which is a lie). I always have a photocopy of my passport in my wallet. I explained to him that I wasn’t going to show it to him. This might seem surprising to some of you, but I didn’t think that he was a legitimate officer. His badge seemed that he was so, but he wasn’t in uniform. I then told him that I was with UTG and from St. Mary’s College, the institution that gave The President His Excellency Alh. Dr. Yahya A.J.J. Jammeh his honorary degree. That is our line to use if we have trouble with any law enforcement. I told the immigration officer that I was going, and I walked away. I didn’t show him my ID in the first place, because it is with my money. Even if he was a legitimate officer, he would be prone to try to get some money out of me. So instead, I played the Jammeh card. It seems that the post office would be a good place to get some money out of tourist tubabs. I am not a tourist. The orange was good.

On the walk back I met some nice older men who are the mechanics at the car garage on Jimpex road near our house. I will need to go back there soon for some conversation and lessons in Wolof. Upon my return I found Mohamed standing outside of the compound looking rather perturbed. Everyone else in the house was out at the time. He asked me to call Auntie Yamai, to whom I gave some of the coffee. Femi brought her coffee from the United States, but it was taken from the suitcase in Senegalese customs. I called Yamai.

Apparently someone from the power company Nawec decided to come by the house and shut off the power for most of the day. He wrote his phone number on the wall of our compound so that we could call him back and sort things out. In a few minutes Yamai arrived and Mohamed explained the situation. The bill was paid 2 weeks ago, but the workers probably got wind that there were some tubab’s living in the house and were hoping for some bribe money to get the power back on. Yamai promptly called the government based power company and told the people that the power would be put back on. After a sufficient amount of arguing in Wolof, she hung up on them. I caught the words “court,” “State house,” “American students” and “under the auspices of The President” thrown out a few times. At the conclusion of the conversation she said that someone would be put in jail at the end of all of this. Apparently she has run into problems with the power company and corruption before. I don’t think that Yamai was serious about the jail thing, but I know that she is powerful enough to make that happen if she really wanted it to. The managers of Nawec are routinely fired for corruption, and I’ve been told records of bill pay are somehow misplaced in the process. She said that she doesn’t take bribes, and then I went on to tell her of my little adventure in the previous hour. The power was to be back on by 2 or 3 that afternoon. It wasn’t back on by three, so I called her again and shortly after someone arrived to remedy the problem. I like the way developing nations work.

I think that I will go to bed now.

Fanaan ak Jama