Vacation???

Sept 13 (3-13)
It’s been a long time since I’ve written. The days have all blurred together. The power has been off for most of the day, but it is now on. The power was also out yesterday. The internet is still not functioning. Typical.
Earlier in the week we visited some of the local clinics to see where we would need to go in case of sickness. They are clean and seem to be well taken care of, although the facilities and technology have aged. Unfortunately 2 of the group members have had to visit the clinics. An eye infection for one and tonsillitis for the other. The rainy season is the time for disease here.
I’ve also been to the markets a few times. They are filled with dried fish, spices, tropical fruits, and bright colorful fabric. Despite Ramadan, the markets are still bustling. I bought some white fabric to make a kaftan to wear for the celebration at the end of Ramadan, and I also have a few colorful Africa shirts. The Gambians call traditional clothing African, as in “I only wear African to special occasions.”
Gambians operate on African time, meaning that if you say you will be somewhere at noon, you might make it by 2. That happened the other day. The Gambian sense of time is much different from the west, and it is in fact refreshing. People are not rushed and never seem to be in a hurry to get anywhere. Rachel’s friend Tunde told me that there is nowhere to rush to in The Gambia. The pace of life is much slower. Things are quiet with Ramadan. People are fasting, so generally things are still, there is little unnecessary movement going about in the streets, and there is no loud reggae being blasted from taxis. I’m told that The Gambia will be a different and much more vibrant place after the month of fasting.
Fridays are always the hottest days in The Gambia. It is a saying here, but people really believe it. Our language teacher Aunty Awa says that it’s true, but that it is just a saying. Rachel says that I have not been in the country long enough to judge whether Fridays are hot or not. Nevertheless, people rest on Fridays, especially in the afternoon, as they do during the hottest part of other days, if possible.
A word about the rainy season. This is the rainiest season in remembered history. An older woman told me that she hasn’t seen this much rain since 1977. I don’t know if that year was rainy, or just some arbitrary number stuck in her head. The rain usually comes in the afternoon and goes into the evening, and sometime through the night. The rain here doesn’t mess around either. When it comes, it comes, it doesn’t sprinkle your head, but drenches you. The sky gets very dark, the air gets cool, a tempestuous wind picks up, and then buckets of rain pour out sideways. It is raining right now while I am writing, although it hasn’t rained in the past few days.
There are some sayings in Wolof about Gambians and their tendency to melt. Gambians are like sugar so they don’t walk in the rain, and they are like butter so they don’t walk in the sun. I believe this saying to be truthful, although I’ve yet to see anyone melt. I am apparently immune to this melting syndrome.
Saturday night we attended a UTG gathering where we could meet professors and students. The professors spoke about the St. Mary’s sponsored courses and then we were able to talk to our colleagues, as people are fond of saying here. The get together was short lived, as people were anxious to break their fasts and more importantly attend or watch the football game. Gambia beat Liberia 3-0, and is on their way to the Africa Cup for the first time in Gambian history. Not bad for the smallest nation in Africa.
That night we went to Podium Pub, a bar in Bakau that Renee’s friend owns. Paul the owner, is a top notch guy, and he invited us to go to church with him and then over to his bar/house for a drink and lunch afterwards. I think we are doing that next week. Not many Gambians have televisions, so shops or restaurants will have TV’s and position them so that people can watch football games. Senegal was playing Algeria, and the support that the 50 or so Gambians gave to the Senegalese team (fellow Wolofs) was amazing. Unfortunately they lost to Algeria, and after the game ended, Reggae music transformed the atmosphere.
Last Sunday I walked down the street to the Catholic Church with Rachel. There was a guest choir from the Cathedral in Dakar, Senegal. Much of the service was in Wolof, the common language between the Gambia and Senegal, because most Senegalese don’t speak English and Gambians don’t speak French. The music and harmonies were incredible. The choir was big to begin with, and their harmonies coupled with djembes were far better than any uptight Catholic tunes in the states. Drumming is prohibited during Ramadan, and even for non Muslims it is important to respect their tradition and not play loud music for this month. Drums in church, however, are perfectly acceptable.
The Gambia is really a very small country. Everyone knows everyone, and their business, “and if they don’t they will make it up” (Tunde). Everyone you meet seems to be related to someone or connected to someone in some way or another. Here is an example of how small the country is. Rachel and I were at church, and we didn’t sit with her family because we didn’t see them until part way through the service. Rachel said that people in church would be gossiping about us and assuming that she had come back to the Gambia with a white boyfriend or husband. She is back in the country, is not married, and is not living at home, and is with a tubab. The wedding must be soon since he is here to meet the family. The prediction came true, Pontz (who you will read about later) heard rumor that she was dating or married to a tubab with long blonde hair. I can assure you, and the church down the street, that the rumors are not true.
After church, some of us went to the beach. We caught a cab out to a beach called Cape Point. We walked along a wooden foot bridge over some marsh land out to the beach where there was an isolated beach front restaurant close to where the river and ocean meet. The waves were not big enough so we walked south towards some resorts and then beyond them. The beaches were empty, but after the rainy season tourist season begins and the beaches will be full of Europeans. We walked past some resorts and a place renting kayaks and hobie cats to a more isolated beach. There were bigger waves here. We walked around a small peninsula to a beach below a cliff covered in prickly pear cacti, the fruits of which are almost ripe. Since it is the rainy season, the rain came. We decided to swim in the rain for a while, especially since the water is warmer than the air when it rains. The water here is really very nice and warm, although the waves aren’t nearly as big as what I am used to. The rain eventually brought lightening so we walked up a path through the cacti to Cape Point Hotel. There were green taxis sitting around with no customers, and we ended up taking a town trip in one of those. Green taxis are tourist taxis. They are the same taxis as the yellow, only they hang out in resort areas and charge a lot more. They had posted prices that were comparable to prices in the US. The posted price from the beach to our house would be around 400 Delasis or 20 dollars. After some negotiation, we only paid 75 Delasis.
I don’t have much to say about classes yet, although that is one of the reasons that I am here. My African Leaders in the Modern Era was cancelled both Monday and Wednesday. On Monday Professor Femi was involved in signing a memorandum of cooperation between UTG and SMCM and Wednesday we went to hear the farewell seminar of the Vice Chancellor of the University. The Chancellor is The President His Excellency Alh. Dr. Yahya A.J.J. Jammeh. Since we are on Gambia time, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were cancelled any way. My first Environmental Management class was very short as is fitting for the first class. It is held in a classroom in the YMCA that lacks a/c. In fact, one of the ceiling fans is missing a blade, putting it out of commission. Friday the same class ran 20 minutes longer than it should have, when we were examining the Banjul Declaration of 1977, the first document in Gambian history to talk about the environment (independence was attained in 1965).
In all of my free time this week, I have done a lot of walking around town. It is perfectly acceptable to take two hours for lunch. One day we walked nearly all the way from our compound to Blue Bar near the traffic light for lunch. It is about an hour’s walk. We walked all the way back. It is not recommended in the heat. Gambians apparently don’t even walk that much when the sun is high. I also visited Yamai twice this week, who is the head of education for Peace Corps and in charge of us. She is helping me with contacts for my independent study. The power just went out again, making it instantly hot. Back on. She is a very powerful Muslim woman in The Gambia. She’s educated and in charge of Peace Corps and has a lot of influence in this country. Bobucarr told Renee last year that if she wasn’t married he would be afraid of her. She invited us to a party at the Jul Brew factory following the swearing in of the new volunteers. She wasn’t coming because she told us that she was too old (and Muslim), but we were welcome.
Earlier this week, Renee and I went to Baboucar’s compound in Bakau in the afternoon to hang out and work on some Wolof. We sat outside under a tree and played with all the kids. There are lots of young kids. Baboucar’s kids and all of his relatives kids who also live in the compound. Some of the kids brought us some fruit that was similar to an orange. I think it might have been taken from a neighbors tree. The fruit was green on the outside, and then you bite the orange like an apple after it is peeled. It is firm enough to eat that way rather than eating slivers. I practiced my rudimentary Wolof with the kids as they played with my hair. They were infatuated with my hair. Baboucar, Renee and I then walked out to buy some bread for dinner for the compound. If you remember from before Baboucar was in a cast, but he can hobble around now. While on our way for bread, the wind came and then the rain. We slipped inside a shop to let the rain pass. Baboucar is a very respected man in his community especially for being in his early thirties. He knew the people in the shop, and they offered us their prayer mats to sit on until the storm passed. We waited out the storm, and then hopped from rock to rock to avoid the water covering the roads. We eventually made it to the bakery. Inside the bakery a wonderful fresh, warm smell seeped out of the door. There were two clay ovens to cook the bread. Baboucar bought the bread, and gave some hot fresh bread to Renee and I to try. It was much better than the bread we get in the mornings at our house. I’m not sure if that was because it was so fresh, or if because it was a better bakery. Either way, it was delicious. We walked Baboucar back, and then headed home for dinner.
Friday the power was out, so I went with Rachel to the YMCA to print out Environmental Management course documents. The Y has generators. It also has a recording studio. I played piano for about an hour yesterday in the studio with a guy named Karamo. Karamo is an excellent kora player about my age. He is also the sound technician for the studio at the YMCA. The YMCA here consists of a hostel, computer labs, classrooms, a school and sounds and video equipment; not a gym. We played jazz with the piano and kora together, and then some more Africanesque styles. It was a lot of fun and sounded very nice, a combination that I never would have thought to put together before.
We arrived at the Julbrew factory around 9 and mingled with the PCVs long enough to have one drink before they ran out. Peace Corps paid for the event though, so it was free to all involved. From there we went with many of the volunteers for a brief stay to a bar called the Green Mamba. It was a very nice but crowded tiki bar kind of atmostphere surrounded by palm trees. It is a tourist bar, but they lowered the price to 35 Delasis a drink for the Peace Corps. I am of course Peace Corps.
Soon after we all went with Rachel’s friend Pontz and a volunteer named Marcus to a posh club called Aquarius. Pontz is the head of the YMCA in The Gambia, and his wife works for the UN. He knows everyone in this country. The normal entry fee is 250 Delasis (12 bucks) and in the height of tourist season, 500 Delasis. Because we know Pontz and he was there we all got in for free. We danced and hung out at the bar, feeling the music.
We all were given free Julbrews shortly after arriving. These came from a Gambian guy of mixed Lebanese and European descent named Yassif, with a strong British accent. It turns out that he knew who we were by way of Pontz. Yassif is the nephew of Aunty Therese, who oversees our food and logistics. We just met her today, as she was vacationing in the UK for the past two weeks. The Lebanese are notoriously wealthy in this country. Yassif bought all of our drinks last night. He told us that Yamai doesn’t like him, so he gave us all his phone number if we ever want to go somewhere on the weekends. He is a top notch character, and apparently very well off. Pontz gave us all a ride home to our compound. There is a law in the Gambia about not having more than 5 people in a 5 person taxi cab, and every once in a while you will see a taxi stopped for carrying too many passengers. We were 7 in Pontz’s car, 2 in the trunk of the station wagon. We were stopped at a routine checkpoint, and Pontz had a nice conversation with the police officer, who happened to be his friend, and then we were on our way. Oh to have connections in a small third world country.
Today we met Aunty Therese. She is a very nice woman, and was just checking in to make sure our food is okay and to let her know if we need anything. It turns out that she is distantly related to Rachel’s family. Yamai is an Aunty to us all as well. The Smiling Coast of Africa is one big happy family. “Gambia No Problems”
I’m sure vacation will end soon, and classes will really get into gear. Until then, you should be wishing that you were here.
Funny story, I’m back again, I just learned something. It turns out that Therese and Yassif’s family own Netpage, the consistently unreliable and slow internet service to which we subscribe. Now that I know that maybe we can get a better connection.
Bekelek (Until next time)