VSO Gambia Journal

This journal is of the first few days of my trip to the Gambia with VSO. For a detailed description as to why I am doing this, please see here. In a nutshell, I have decided to take a two-year break from my “normally” scheduled life and chosen to volunteer with the VSO organisation with their goal towards promoting sustainable development in developing countries, in my case the Gambia.

It has been a long haul to get to this point of my actually departing. I have had to shed the last four years of baggage (figuratively and, most definately, physically) from living in England and get set to transport myself and 35 kg of luggage to the Gambia. One of the big issues has been the baggage allowance on the flight which is determined by the airline but (20 kg plus 5 kg of carry- on) I had contacted them to lift my limit 10 kg but it is still a VERY small amount of space to pack for two years…thank goodness VSO is providing a great deal of support when we arrive (place to stay, allowance for household goods, etc.). As an aside, I learned later that many of the other VSO volunteers on the same flight had MUCH more over the limit than I had and had not even bothered asking in advance!

This is going to be a challenge on many different levels not least of which mentally and professionally. VSO think I can do it so that is a good start…

Yesterday was a complete nightmare. I had the car being picked up, the local house clearance people dropped by to pick up the sofa and a desk, the movers were around all day packing everything and I had to get rid of all sorts of extra things to various charities. Actually, it went pretty well and very quickly so that I was actually in an empty house before I expected it (REALLY empty, sitting on the floor with the laptop computer is empty, though the phone still worked…). It was also the first chance I had really got to meet my neighbour who actually not only took a lot of the items I no longer needed (such as food) but also made me a wonderful dinner (roast beef no less). I was picked up late at night by a collegue from work who drove me to a hotel near the Gatwick airport in Crawley where I had booked a room for the night though “night” is an understatement since I had to be up at 5:00 and only arrived at the hotel at 9:30 pm (hard to justify the cost of the room…). The hotel was good and I rested very well, thank you, though not enough…they offered a shuttle service to the airport which I caught at 5:40 and I arrived at the terminal at 6:00 to check-in.

Working in Flat

Check-in was interesting. The bag that I wanted to carry on the plane was too heavy so I was asked to remove things from it and put it in other bags (why they are so picky about a bag that, plus my other luggage, was still under the weight I was allowed I will never know). This was a bit tricky and I managed to oblige them only a bit before he “let me go”. Of course, after I had checked in he mentioned that there was a delay so that instead of leaving at 9:15 we were now leaving in the afternoon at 12:55. Having no other real options I made my way through the security into the departure area where there is a large shopping complex where I helped myself to breakfast (McDonald's – probably the last of that for some time) then lay down for a little while and actually SLEPT (suprisingly). I wandered around the mall a bit, picking up a book from WH Smith, then an iron from Duty-Free which had been suggested by VSO to bring to the Gambia and I did not want it included in my already heavy luggage before I checked in.

While waiting in the mall area I did not recognize any of the few people I had met in previous months that were also going to the Gambia but when we made our way to the plane I met them so it was good to see at least two friendly faces on this trip!

The plane was very crowded as this is the height of the tourist season and there are only a few flights directly from Gatwick to Banjul (the capital of the Gambia) all of which are charter flights that only operate on certain days. On the way I sat beside two ladies who were going to Gambia as tourists and they, unfortunately, showed me a side of the people that visit that I knew existed but did not know how much…They were there to go to the big hotels in Sarracunda hotels and if they did not see any of the “locals” then that would be fine with them (though they did suggest that they would not mind finding an attractive younger guy). It was painful to hear what they thought of the Gambians – no wonder the Gambians think so little of the tourists despite the fact that tourism is rapidly becoming a major industry in the Gambia. Aside: They also mentioned that the scenery is wonderful.

I tried to ignore them talking beside me though the diversion of the movie was not all that good as it was absolutely awful as well. It was also quite irritating when we were charged for all of our drinks (including water – though not, I learned later, tap water) and any snacks though they did throw us (almost literally) a small meal midway through the flight.

Throughout the journey I was asked by the ladies beside me to give them a running commentary as to what I saw outside the somewhat obscured window (it was to my far left shoulder, there was no window on our row). This commentary largely consisted of “there is a big brown thing” (i.e. desert) or “there is a big blue thing” (i.e. the ocean) or, very rarely, “a big rock on the big brown thing”. This was largely the going for the trip though as we came in to land at the airport in the Gambia we passed over a large number of small houses and farmland with the occasional fire though no sign of any significant buildings. The sun was just setting as we taxied up to the terminal which is a beautiful modern building in the middle of not much else. There were a few planes on the apron already with people wandering around on the tarmac. The fire department had a few trucks though the workers did not seem terribly interested in the planes and seemed to be enjoying the shade of the trucks and each other's company (worthwhile, it seems to me).

Even before we left the plane the place gave me the impression of heat with the brown grass and dust everywhere surrounded by hardy trees. Eventually, the door was opened and everyone scrambled to disembark. We walked down the stairs that had been butted up to the plane and got onto a bus that ferried us to the terminal. I met up with a few of the other VSO volunteers as we made our way in to join the various lines (queues) for passport control which, as might be expected, was a complete nightmare. There were a few hundred of us trying to get through the 6 or so government officials who seemed to be determined to read over, in great detail, everyone's passport.

Eventually through the passport area, we were greeted with the much more unpleasant scene around the baggage carossel which was quite small for the number of people on the flight and was about 5-6 people deep waiting for their luggage. While we were waiting for the luggage, most of the volunteers met up and we stood around chatting, comparing how well (or not) we had done with the baggage allowance. There were porters around trying to pick up people's luggage but we had been warned it advance that if they picked it up we would be asked for a pound for the priviledge (they are VERY persistant).

The terminal has very tall ceilings and is made of concrete which does not help the sound that reflects from the many people that were inside. The fact that there is no air conditioning also made it a bit unpleasant as well. Eventually we managed to collect our items and exited the security area and found the representative of VSO that was there to meet us. He guided us off to the side, introduced himself briefly before he set off to find the rest of our group that we had not yet met up with. We sat around and chatted though most of us were quite tired for the long delay and journey. It was during this talk that we found out that one of the volunteers was forced to pay a bribe when they brought their stereo (minus speakers) with them. Not a very pleasant way to start the visit.

Eventually we were all together and they divided us up into groups then we followed our respective hosts to their waiting vehicles. As soon as we left the terminal we were set upon by numerous people selling things, begging for money, etc. as we made our way through the car park which was by now very dark to the vehicle I was going to be taking at the far side relying on our host to be able to find the car in the ever increasing darkness. To make things even more interesting, I was left alone in the car with another volunteer for about ten minutes as our guide went to go find the others he was to be transporting as well. We tried our best to simply talk to ourselves and ignore those clambering around the windows trying to get our attention. Not a very pleasant experience and one that I hear is largely confined to the airport itself (“The worse place in the Gambia for this sort of thing”). These sorts of problems seem to follow wherever the tourists are since I am told this is also a problem along the beaches beside the bigger tourist hotels.

A few minutes later David returned with the rest of our smaller group who then clambered into the small car with us as we headed out of the airport, stopping only briefly at a check-point at the exit. We were all pretty tightly packed into the car with luggage on top of our laps (and everywhere else it seemed) as we made our way out onto a rather bumpy, dusty road heading north out of the airport. On the way we passed through the one traffic light in the Gambia which has signs leading up to it directing people on how to use a traffic light (signs, it seems, that are largeley ignored) but it also has a wonderful, modern, Shell petrol (gas) station on the corner. This was also on the new paved road that I was told was just opened recently. This seemed to be the way, there were a few of these modern buildings or businesses with other far more rude buildings in between – the differences between them are very striking.

We eventually turned off a paved road down another dirt road as David made his way from one side to the other side of the road as he attempted to find the least damaging path. The hotel came up on our left and we pulled to the side and got out. It was truly wonderful with the brown of the alley replaced by the palms and lush green of the hotel where we are to make our home for the next little while. As we passed through the gates we were in another world as our new hosts offered us glasses of cold fruit drink before we were given our keys for our rooms. It was about 8:00 when me and my new roommate (another Steve) found our rooms which had already been setup with mosquito nets (all VSO volunteers are given them) and dumped our luggage before heading out to the pool area where dinner was waiting for us.

The director of VSO for the Gambia was waiting for us as she gave us a brief introduction and passed out envelopes that contained a modest allowance for the first three weeks of training we were all (mostly) proceeding into up to the 15th of February. We were also given a binder full of various information that we were to make ourselves familiar with over the next few weeks though tonight was just to relax and take it easy as we helped ourselves to the buffet of BBQ steak, fish and chicken as well as a good selection of salad and fruit.

We all chatted and relaxed after the hectic day around the pool as we looked around at our surroundings. It was very dark but the hotel was lit with a number of small lights in amongst the abundant greenery. There is a bamboo patch right in the middle of the hotel with all sorts of fruit and other exotic plants all around – making me wonder whether how much of it is actually Gambian or simply African (bamboo?). There are two resident cats which made themselves known though they are very small and look like they have not eaten in weeks – I am told this is quite normal for Gambian cats. We all began on the advice of our hosts to drink lots of water. The hotel is not just home to us volunteers there are a number of other guests here though it is not all that big a hotel (hence the reason Steve and I are sharing).

Around 11 we all made our way to bed though I found it very difficult to sleep (I am told it is something to do with the anti-malarial pills I am taking).

Well the first full day in the Gambia did not start on a really good note. Steve's alarm did not work in the morning (or something) so I was woken up to “how quickly can you get ready?”. Not terribly nice. We quickly got changed and headed to the main courtyard area where there were tables set up for the “buffet” breakfast which had some wonderful bread, boiled eggs and fruit. We enjoyed our rather hurried breakfast then met with the group at 9 for our initial briefing during which we were given more books of information and an overview of what we are to expect for the next three weeks as we are trained.

Room at Safari Garden

The first order of the day was to meet up with current volunteers in the Gambia and they would give us a quick tour around the area. Usha (who is currently a volunteer here) was Jane and my guide for the next few hours. Jane is a volunteer who will be working “in-country” instead of on the coast (the “Kombos” area) where we currently are. She is working as a nurse trainer in Bansang which we are told is quite a few hours drive along the river heading east along the length of the country.

Jane and Usha at Safari Garden Hotel

The Gambia is a funny country. Formerly a british colony it is now ruled by an elected parliament. It has an ever-increasing population of more than a million now in the relatively small area that the country occupies along the north and south banks of the river Gambia. It is surrounded on all sides by Senegal (though the most populated area of Senegal is to the north) and now even shares military forces with the country. The climate is very warm and dry all year round with the exception of a few weeks each year during the rainy season where it rains every day and is very humid both day and night (from about July to September).

Usha walked us north up the dirt road leading down the lane to the hotel and we caught a taxi to the “Palais au Chocolat” which is one of her favourite places to eat! They are a western-style ice cream shop so we each had a scoop of ice-cream (I had mango though I am told they are not commercially harvested locally) and we also enjoyed the air- conditioned interior as it seemed to be getting quite warm despite it being fairly early in the morning.

We have been told to try to get use to the local water so Jane and I had a few sips from glasses of tap-water we had been given but we basically stuck to the bottled water we had picked up from the hotel.

Jane and Myself at Westfield Junction

We stayed and chatted for a while before again heading out to catch another taxi to “Westfield Junction” which is just down the road. It is very different in the daylight (as you might expect). There are people always walking along the sides of the road and a few (brave) people on bicycles along the edge of the road (though they are most times forced over the edge of the tarmac to avoid being run down by the cars). The edge of the road and most other areas are simply brown dust though there is a lot of folliage. Many people are selling things and throughout the day we were approached to see whether we wanted a taxi, a “rolex”, or various other sundries. Most of the buildings are in “compounds” – walled areas in which one or more houses/buildings are situated. The houses by and large in this area are quite nice and are surrounded by many different fruit trees.

At Westfield we got out and were shown where the telephone company was as well as one of the many Internet Cafes that are all around this area. Jane was looking for some rechargable lights for her house in- country since she had been told that electricity is more often off than on so a rechargable light had been recommended to her so we visited a local electrical shop and was suprised at what we saw inside. There are no prices on anything (typical, we would find, of everything) and every where there could be goods, there were. All over the walls, hanging from the ceiling – everything from generators to lights to computer equipment – very interesting.

We caught a “bush taxi” from the junction next to Bakau – A bush taxi is basically a van that goes along set routes picking up as many people as it can, typically with someone hanging out of the sliding door shouting the name of the destination. Most of the time is not only the owner/operators that are doing this but also the customers as they climb aboard or get out often as the vehicle is moving. It is a fixed fee trip and is quite…exciting. Bakau was quite some distance away (especially for only 3 delasis!) and we eventually were let out just outside the small market that is there.

The market is quite something. All sorts of little stalls selling all manner of things from fresh fish, fruit, vegetables to dried fish, clothing and electrical items. We had a bit of trouble with the smell around the area where the fish and meat was being sold (it is very hot and smells…a lot) but other than that it was very interesting (again, no prices, all has to be bargained for!).

We had a lunch at a local bar (Buddies) where I ordered a Chicken Yassa which is a local dish that is supposed to be quite good (it was). Buddies is quite different than what surrounds it and could easily be a cafe anywhere in the western world – many volunteers eat here perhaps for that reason. As we were sitting and eating/chatting many other volunteers who were out with their guides also met up with us and eventually pretty much all of us “new arrivals” were there.

Our small group once again headed out and briefly took a walk through the rest of the market before catching a taxi back to the area of the hotel (just down the road again). We returned to our rooms and got changed for the beach. Heading once again along the dirt road by the hotel, we turned left and walked the 100 meters or so to the entrance to a favourite local hang-out – “Leybato”. We followed a winding dirt road as it led up a small hill then down through some trees, beside some sea-side apartments then into the car park and then through some very low-growing trees (watch your head) to a series of thatch “huts” (gazebos) all along the lip just above the beach (about three or so feet). The huts are all in amongst the trees and have a table underneith each along with hammocks scattered elsewhere under the trees. Then, of course, there is the ocean.

Leybato Beach

Leybato is located just on a bit of bend in the beach and has a series of small black (volcanic) rocks in the surf just outside of it but to the left of it is unbroken sand for quite some distance (you can walk to some of the big hotels just down the beach – about an hour's walk). The ocean is quite rough here and quite cool at first though is very pleasent after a few minutes (if you have time to enjoy it between the big waves). I had quite a few mouthfuls of water and water in the eyes before I learned to keep them both shut to avoid it…(horrible tasting!). The area is very much the picture of some exotic beach resort.

Leybato Beach

As we were drying off UNDER the paragodas a few people came by selling various things and we did actually buy some peanut brittle (they know it locally as “peanut cake”) as well as some fresh-squeezed orange juice for 10 delasi from a lady who had set up a small stall on the beach in front of the bar. We chatted away with the other volunteers for some time as they eventually wandered in.

Eventually have a long, hard time there, we headed back to the hotel though along the way, another of our Bansang volunteers Sam had a bit of a hastle with someone wanting to be her friend (though I tried to get between him and her to force him to keep his distance). Just a bit awkward.

The afternoon was just a strenous as we had a swim in the pool (which seemed to be cooler than the ocean) and I read for a while. Dinner was a curry with a banana friter dessert and we all chatted until about 11 o'clock when a few volunteers headed out to a local bar where there was a party under way and another party for “Burns Night” we all had to miss (it was expensive, we had received too short a notice and the fact that it was a pretty formal occasion).

Jane and I spent some time commenting about “lizard kababs” as we had seen many of them about (though the marketting aspect is a bit troubling as we have to convince people that they taste good even though they don't…). A very humourous and enjoyable evening.

Breakfast was followed with a bit of work on the computer where I prepared some pictures I had taken yesterday on my digital camera to send to people by electronic mail at the local Internet cafe. They are a bit “touristy” – me at Westfield with Jane, Jane and Usha at the hotel…Hum. The Internet cafe also gave me a chance to check my bank account to see if I am not seriously in debt (well, actually, at ALL in debt). This was followed by a relaxing time at the pool as it got warmer and we talked to the owners about their Burn's evening last night (it was very good though they looked a bit worse for wear after the alcohol).

Lunch (of a salad) was followed by a trip to the beach at about 2:00pm. The schedule was a bit light today. A few of us went for a walk down (south) the beach a bit but Christine headed off on her own, returning about one and a half hours later (she likes walking and seemed to avoid the “bumsters” quite well). We were bothered a bit by “bumsters” as we walked along the beach – these are local people who hastle the tourists for money, “friendship” (many want a ticket to the west – England, US or Canada – and are willing to do ANYTHING for it), etc.

The ocean was cool but a lot rougher than yesterday as we made our way back to Leybato. Over the afternoon our group got a bit bigger as people from VSO, other volunteer agencies (such as the Peace Corps which is quite big here), and their friends showed up introducing themselves (don't ask me anyone's names!). It got progressively warm but under the trees and in the shade we were quite cool and enjoyed the conversation for most of the afternoon - wandering from hammock to gazebo to ocean…

VSO and Peace Corps rugby is a rough sport. Every Sunday afternoon the two groups get together for a match on the beach. In the past few months there have been a number of casualties including a fish bone through the foot, blood, bruises, etc. Considering it is supposed to be “touch rugby” they seem to do more than simply “touch”. It is a bit of a joke amongst us though…

Eventually we managed to get ourselves together and return to the hotel where I was able to catch up on some of the material we were supposedly reading today before dinner at 8. Tonight it was fish pie with aubergine fritters (both very good) along with a papaya desert “drink” with lime juice (VERY tart and a bit much for most of us).

It was good to further the lizard “kabab” jokes from last night – I can see this is going to be an on-going joke with Jane and myself. Someone suggested I “should be a commedian” – hum…

The power went out tonight briefly and the compound generator cut in as soon as they powered it up.

Before I went to bed it was great to hear from mother who called me after I e-mailed the phone number of the hotel to her in Canada. The staff called me to the phone since there is only one at the hotel (this is NOT a Holiday Inn – no radios or TVs either). I had felt guilty that I had been unable to call her after I had arrived due to the fact that phones are not all that common around this area (and are difficult to use – payment is a bit of a problem since it is so expensive – you have to get a “katcha” card for long-distance phone calls, you CANNOT call long-distance phone numbers directly by pay phones).

We began the day by following breakfast with a trip to the program office which is up the back alley, turning left on Pipeline (the big paved road at the end of the alley) then right onto Atlantic (the intersection of Atlantic and Pipeline is the small dirt road that leads to the ocean; Atlantic, for obvious reasons, follows the ocean north to Bakau and quite a distance south as well – though not a continuous stretch south). The VSO office is in a small compound just a small distance north of the intersection between the two roads and is hard to miss with the VSO vehicles parked out front (white with blue writing) and the big VSO sign. We all managed to make it as we trudged along the side of the road in the sand (sometimes quite deep). Inside the compound it is quite nice with many trees and a few small buildings.

We waited a few minutes in the small waiting room (the 15 or so of us) before we made our way en-masse to the director's office (Lynne) just down the hall where we were given a bit of a talk before being shown around the office. There are only a few people actually working in the office, many of which are, of course, Gambians and they are all very nice and pleasant. There are three Program Officers – these are people who are directly responsible for the volunteers in the country (there are about 50 volunteers in the Gambia right now) – split, it seems, according to subject area the volunteer is working in, for example, Elina is my Program Officer since she deals with Health volunteers (I am going to be working for the Department of State for Health in Banjul) but David is my collegue's program officer even though my collegue is also a computer specialist and this is simply because my collegue is working for the Department of State for Education and David deals with Education.

We were shown the resource centre which is in a separate building in the corner of the compound. This also has an attached “library” – a place where volunteers can pick up reading material (fiction mostly) and, more importantly, leave reading material behind for other volunteers (it is quite a good selection). This room is also important in that it has our “cubby holes” which contain any mail we may (or may not) have received. In the resource centre room itself there is even a computer…Evidently this whole area is open most of the time even if the office is not to allow us to get a bit of a break and pick up things.

Opening the fridge in the kitchen was quite amusing since it is full of plastic bottles of water (refilled of course) as well as an ample supply of condoms as well (since it is out of the way). Mind you, I did not see them, I only know since I was told during our subsequent briefings.

We took a couple of photos in front of the office of our group before heading down the road back to just past the junction of Atlantic and Pipeline to Francisco's where we had a nice lunch with a few people from the office. I tried the Baracuda since they did not have any “butter fish” (which was recommended by Lynne earlier). It was quite pleasant. Some people had ordered the fresh orange juice but it looked a bit…dark…for my liking (but it tasted fine).

After heading back north, we past the VSO office and made our way to the British High Commission which has it's compound just a short distance north of the office (on the sea-side of the road, of course). We had to all get signed in and given visitor badges as we made our way past the not unformidable security. We were there to visit the nurse (Sheelagh) who gave us a bit of information about who she was, what she can do for us (she is essentially our local physician – at the very least she can refer us to appropriate parties) and what we can catch in the Gambia (quite scary some of it – some of the parasites are quite nasty).

After Sheelagh had talked to us, she took us as a group just down the road to the Medical Research Council (MRC) which is a massive medical facility that does a lot of different things including out and in patients, and medical training. There was quite a number of people waiting at the gate for their appointments (it seemed) – never mind someone that seemed to be selling chickens.

As we walked into the compound, there are massive trees on either side of the road and it is truly a massive site with it's own road system and many buildings. Sheelagh pointed out a few of the key areas that we might be interested in before she let us make our own way back to the hotel.

The remainder of the afternoon was spent deep in study…well, actually, no, but it was spent beside (and in) the pool where study could POSSIBLY have occured. Oh well, nothing to study yet anyway, really, except perhaps for the mountain of material they have given us about the culture and people.

Dinner was another light one consisting of pasta and fruit cocktail for dessert. After dinner we walked to the Internet Cafe and e-mailed some more pictures. That was the strenuous part of the evening. Quite a tiring one – Ok, after yesterday it was positively BUSY…

Ok, yesterday was not busy, today definately was. We began quite early with me and Frieda heading up to see the nurse again. I needed to have a blood typing since I was unable to have it in England before I came here. She indicated I would have to actually go across to the MRC to have the blood test since she could not do it so she gave me a referal sheet so I guess I will have to do it tomorrow or something since we had to get back to the hotel for our first session.

We had a facinating talk from Halifa Sallah who is one of the only opposition MPs currently in office (he is the only one from his party). It was an important time for him as well since he was only just re- elected and he has also just announced he was getting married. He was a very interesting speaker – highly educated and very good speaker. He gave us a bit of the history of the Gambia as well as the current political environment (though he was not drawn to comment too much about the current party in power despite some questions from us).

We followed Mr. Sallah's discussion with a trip into Banjul. Since we were supposed to actually have the visit from Mr. Sallah tomorrow we missed our language session for today though the trainers were here to guide us around various things in Banjul. We split into three groups, our group deciding to visit the museum and the market (the Arch was not that appealing to me - - I can do that anytime – it is a monument at the entrance to the city that is a big, well, arch, that you can climb into and get a great view of the area).

We wandered down the back alley to Pipeline where we caught a bush taxi heading east and we headed off the road south (east) into Serrekunda which is a VERY large market area (and residential area) to the south of Westfield Junction. We really slowed to a crawl as we passed through the market area where the traffic was unbelievable. It was facinating seeing the various shops as we made our way along – I was busy trying to figure out everything that they were selling (food, clothing, housewares, etc.). For some reason the discussion seemed to be about how we could cook mexican food in the Gambia (I was looking for pinto beans for re-fried beans). We were lucky in that the bush taxi, though normally they would stop in Westfield, decided to change his route and go into Banjul since most of us on the bus wanted to go there (it also made the trip a lot cheaper).

We followed the main road north as we headed into Banjul. We quickly left the buildings around Westfield behind and were surrounded by swamp land with the occasional hand-painted advertising signs along the side of the road (there were also the occasional political messages). Eventually we approached the main bridge into the city were there was a police stop (though we only slowed down). As we entered the city, we saw the Arch which is just past a large roundabout. There is a road that leads under the arch but this road is closed because it seems that the Arch is not safe so the only one allowed to drive under it is the president (who, it seems, is immune to any possible risk). As we passed by we were amused to see a few members of another of our groups already at the top looking around.

The bus taxi had extended itself a bit so we found ourselves stopped at a local petrol (gas) station for a few minutes before we were eventually dropped off at the museum. Our guide (Alhaji) had indicated we had a lot of time so we might as well take a look at that as well. The museum is very basic with many dusty artifacts and with very limited write-ups in broken English. After about 15 minutes we had seen all there was to see and headed back outside into the shade where we chatted for a few minutes before heading off for the market.

As we headed down Independance Avenue, we passed by the “Quadrangle” which is a complex consisting of a lot of offices for the various ministers of state (including Health and Education). We turned off of Independence Avenue and walked beside the Quadrangle with the 22nd July Square (park) to our right and then turned right at the far end of the park, just outside of the presidential residence which was heavily guarded (I would not want to upset the army people stationed there; I heard later that another group had someone that took a picture and was almost arrested – only avoided by the intervention of her guide).

We headed along the north side of the park and then approached the roundabout that is quite close to the main entrance to the market which was just crawling with bush taxis. The market was very interesting – a lot smaller than Serrekunda but a lot more compact. The hustle and bustle was quite something with things for sale hanging everywhere and people coming at you from all directions trying to see you things.

We began the experience by Steve (another volunteer) attempting to exchange some money so he put two people against one another to get the best rate and exchanged some currency with them. If you had not known (and they had not told you) you would not have known that these people were able to exchange money though a clue would have been the big sports bags they carried containing huge bundles of currency. Since the exchange rate is so hideous, even a small amount of foreign currency results in big piles of Delasis (quite often very moth-eaten bills at that). They actually advise, as a security precaution, to NOT exchange in the street as Steve did but in a bank which gives a better guarantee that the currency you buy is not counterfeit.

Most of the market itself is under cover as we made our way past a number of stalls. In the middle is a large pavillion under which are a number of tailors who have their pedal-operated sewing machines and coal-fired irons who will basically make you any type of clothing you wish if you bring them the material though they were also selling a few different kinds of material there – many of which looked like wool which can't be too comfortable in the heat that this country seems to get…

We headed off to find some bug spray for Jane since she was concerned about the number of mosquitos she had seen in her room at Safari Garden – despite the mosquito nets she was still a bit worried. We eventually found some in a small shop away from the market. In the market you can bargain but generally the prices in the shops are fixed and cannot be negotiated.

Directly opposite the store was the restaurant where we were supposed to meet up with the other groups in so we sat down and ordered some fruit juices while we waited. It was a lebanese place that ordered things that would be familiar to anyone who has visited an english “kebab shop” – falafel, kebabs, etc. We waited for some time, occasionally hastled by hucksters trying to sell us anything and everything before Alhaji headed out, worried that the other groups were not there despite it being 15 minutes later than when they were supposed to be there. It turns out that there are TWO restaurants on the block with the same name (well, one has a second name that is the actual name of the restaurant, NOT the name that is biggest on the sign outside – this was the one we were in – as it turns out, the wrong one). So, we headed off to the right restaurant two doors down, clutching the cashews we had bought while waiting. Yes, everyone was waiting for us as we ordered our food and waited (it was very nice, thank you – I had the signature dish of the “King of Schwama”, namely, a “Schwama”). The pavement (sidewalk) along the road was interesting since it was a good two feet off the ground and has open sewers around it (well, I imagine in the rainy season they are open sewers for the excess water). A bit like walking along a plank…

The food took some time to come to the table, during which some of us ordered the “special” fruit juice which turned out to be a VERY bright red which ended up staining my white shirt despairingly easily and did not really taste all that good either. My Beef Schwama was very good; a bit spicy and salty but good with the chips (fries) that came with it).

One of the VSO vehicles had been pulled up opposite the restaurant so the 15 of us crammed into it as we headed to the Department of State for the Interior to get our “Alien ID Cards” (a strange name, indeed) that identifies us a foreign nationals working in the Gambia. The office was a bit archaic as we sat on a long wooden bench in the hall as we were called in one at a time (eventually) to sign our ID. This whole process took the best part of an hour and some of us spent time sitting outside watching people walk by and the traffic – Interesting, believe you me. We saw a fair amount of life heading by: goats (dinner, we joked, if someone hit one with a car), chickens (dinner as well, as before) – though they were a bit scrawny. One chilling thing that did occur is that someone walked by with a printed shirt that I thought was a bit odd so I concentrated on the pattern. As I looked I could make out what it was: A dragon with a picture of the trade centre towers in the background with each tower being hit by planes. I grew a bit cold at this and it really made me think a bit about the area and the sensibilities of SOME of the people. An amusing 10 minutes or so was spent watching someone attempting to turn around a massive truck in the middle of an intersection (interesting when it hit a power pole and came close to hitting the power cables). Eventually, we all received our cards after the one lady with the rather ancient typewriter typed each one manually.

Eventually we all piled back into the car which, thankfully, was air conditioned (for the number of people in it, this was a god-send). We headed out of Banjul then along some other roads beside the “wasteland” area beside the new stadium (an impressive stadium at that). We dropped a few people off at the local Internet Cafe as we headed back to the hotel.

I had a bit of a swim and a discussion with the owner of the hotel about how they had experienced Sept 11th – listening to a radio relaying the events beside the pool. She indicated that living here seems to distance you from world events quite effectively and even when you hear of them, it seems a long way away (which, I suppose, it is). The point she made as well was that “what can you do anyway?” when I commented about many of us having watched it live on TV.

Feeling a bit guilty about not having read much already, I picked up some cultural material and read it beside the pool (life is rough) and watched as the weekly dance lessons were underway beside the poolside (despite encouragement, I declined) – a local dancer and musicians made for great entertainment (never mind the few tourists also joining in).

After dinner, I headed off to the Internet Cafe but it was closed due to a power failure so I had to go to the next one along the road (Hollywood instead of QuantumNet) which was open – desperate I was to read/reply to my e-mails. I guess I will have to get used to not being constantly in touch with people.

Well, it started with another early breakfast so I could get over to the Medical Research Centre (MRC) for my blood typing before our first session began at 9:00. It was a nice cool morning as I walked north up Atlantic (again) to the MRC. As I entered the grounds and approached the “outpatients” area that had been pointed out to me earlier I noticed a large number of mothers and their children waiting around on the long benches in the area. Not knowing exactly what was going on I headed to the front (they did not seem to mind) and talked to a nurse who then discussed it with a doctor who indicated I needed to first pay at the “cashier” who was in another area (also surrounded by benches of people) – 75 dalasis. I paid my money then returned to a side queue where the blood tests were being performed then got motioned into the door by a lady sitting on the bench where I got some funny looks but sat down on the offered stool. I was not the only one having blood taken as I watched children coming in and having their finger pricked and the patient doctor taking a slide of the blood as the child screamed it's head off (both the mother, nurse and me were just smiling all the while). It was a pleasant conversation with the doctor as he took a small vial of blood for the test and then directed me to a transport container in the compound that was being used for doing the labratory work for the blood test. I was suprised to learn that the container was air conditioned though it was hardly a sterile environment as I was invited in after knocking directly into the lab part of the container (very attractive lab technician, it must be said). After waiting around the outside for a few minutes I got the result that VSO wanted me to put on my ID card: A positive.

Steve, who had accompanied me as far as the High Commission (so that he could visit Sheelagh – we were all asked to report to her individually) showed up just before the test finished and then we made our way back to the hotel for our first class of Wolof – the local language we are going to be (hopefully) taught over the next few weeks. Wolof is the language largely spoken in the Banjul and Kombos area of the Gambia though a large number of people throughout the country actually speak Mandinka (which was what the other class from our group is being taught).

We sat near the pool for our lesson with Alhaji – the seven of us. It was pretty clear that there were no liguists amongst us but all of us have the intention of really trying…This first lesson focused mainly on greetings which are the single-most important part of the language since this is something that everyone knows.

Next followed a talk about security in the country by the police public spokesman who was very good. Overall, security in the country is very good with the idea that you have to take precautions that you would take in any other populated area: do not leave valuables unattended (or in plain sight), watch your bags in the marketplace, etc. Lynne talked a bit first about how VSO would evacuate us out of the country were the need to arise (which scared a few of us). They operate largely in conjunction with the British High Commission – who would help to get people out of the country at the right time. An interesting side note was that a mention was made of a nut that, if eaten, will make you go insane…interesting.

Lunch was followed by another language session – we were only supposed to have the one today but since Mr. Sallah visited yesterday we had to have yesterday's language session today. It was getting to be quite hot so we found it very difficult to concentrate so basically Alhaji largely stuck to the greetings from the morning and tried to drum them into our head (how many times can you say “Salam malecum”?). It was amusing after the class when I was asked by the lady selling a few tourist craft items in the hotel what my name was in Wolof and it tookme a few minutes to figure out a) what she was asking and b) what my name was – well, no, not the second one, but I had to figure out how to say it in Wolof.

The language lesson was followed by another visit to the beach – though we found a quicker route along a side road that saves us a precious 30 seconds or so. Not many of us were there though we did see David walking with his wife, son and dog (imaginatively named “pooch”) along the beach. The surf was quite strong with a red flag showing (indicated it is rough, black, I believe, is most serious) though this also meant there were less bumsters about trying to get money off of us. Very relaxing, and then followed by more relaxing time at the pool at the hotel where I grabbed a swim.

Dinner was supposed to have started at 7:30 but it actually turned out to be closer to 8 as we were serenaded all night by a tradional Kora player. A “Kora” is a instrument like a guitar except it is plucked by both hands in unison. It is quite large with the bowl being (we believe) made of a melon shell which is placed in the lap and the neck is quite long and is held on both sides by the hand and the strings plucked. It was a nice, quiet music, very pleasant throughout dinner. As we finished he started to talk about the instrument and it's history which was quite interesting (we had to concentrate a bit to hear him). His singing very much kept in with the music he was strumming. Eventually Gemma asked a question then was given a bit of a lesson on how to play for quite some time (she was not too bad though struggled a bit when he got into chords). The player also suggested if anyone was interested in lessons he does those as well.

It was quite late when the evening broke up though a very relaxing one.

Well, today I was able to sleep in a bit as opposed to my previous early morning walks. After breakfast we split into our two language classes and began work on additional dialogue (oh, goody, still have not got the previous ones memorised!).

After language, we had a bit of a discussion about “Aid and Politics in the Gambia” presented by a representative of DFID (Department for International Development – a UK government agency) who discussed some of the basics of what they are doing in the country and what funding is available. It was a very optimistic view of what can be done in the country, especially in light of what was said later by the High Commissioner.

The British High Commissioner then came and addressed our small group in our places around the pool and was very harsh about the prospects for the country and about the people. It was very embarassing for all concerned and quite difficult to listen to without saying anything outright. Lynne was asked her opinion (by the Comissioner herself) about what he was saying and she indicated that we (VSO) were here to help improve things (which is true and put very diplomatically). Most of our group ended up, I am afraid, with a very negative view of the Commissioner.

The lunch was an un-unteresting chicken salad (and not terribly good). The vegetarians in our group definately got the better choice. There are three of them (and another person who will only eat fish in addition to vegetables/fruits rather than any other meat) though it has been stressed many times that it would be difficult to have a good diet in this country that eats so much meat all the time. They have been getting a special menu for every meal here at the hotel.

A few of the VSO volunteers already in the country gave a bit of a talk about our upcoming trip to Sanyang and, in particular, the “home- stay” element which will involve our staying with a local family in their home for two days (eating what they eat, hopefully talking their language, using their pit-latrine…). They mentioned that the camp we would be staying at for all the other time we are in Sanyang has very basic facilities but at least has running water (sometimes) though no electricity.

After our little discussion, Jane, I and a few others headed to Serrekunda for a bit of shopping. We had to walk quite some way before we were able to get a taxi to Westfield though the five of us did manage to get into one taxi for the trip (which is illegal – they are only really supposed to carry up to four passengers at a time).

We got out of the taxi just before the taxi was supposed to pass in front of the local police station (he was worried about getting a ticket) and we headed south into Serrekunda. As we walked along, we paralleled an open sewer that, evidently, one volunteer fell into twice. I don't think I would want to do that since the stench coming from the ooze today was unbelievable. We went into a local shop selling all sorts of things (pots, pans, food, candles, electrical items, etc.) where Jane picked up some stuff for a trip to a school she is supporting in the country for quite some years now – colouring book and some pens. We also picked up some candles and mosquito coils in anticipation of Sanyang. Marcel and Jolanda (from the Netherlands) looked into getting a gas lamp (which are VERY cheap) but decided that it was not required.

We walked through the market which is a large number of rudimentary stalls with people selling anything and everything. We managed to find a towel which I needed for our trip to Sanyang (since they are not provided and I had not brought one with me). We also picked up some rather sturdy looking flip-flops which should be good as I do not want to have to continue walking around in my trainers in this heat and dust (you will not believe the colour of my white socks at night!). Marcel and Jolanda also spent some time getting some tinned food for the camp as well (since they are two of our vegetarians and the camp does not normally cater for vegetarians they were asked to buy a few things). Griet (our VSO volunteer guide) picked up some Kola nuts which are to be gifts for the various leaders in the actual village of Sanyang (the camp is located outside of the town).

Jane and I wanted to do a few things so we left the others and headed south to where the tailors were and, after a few minutes thought, decided we should try to get me a shirt made. So, we enquired and were led to another area where they had good fabric, I asked for something different so the seller disappeared for a few minutes and returned with some additional samples. I picked a pattern that I thought looked good (Jane agreed) and then (after haggling over the price – I was ripped off, of course) we were guided up some stairs to where the tailors were operating. I was measured and then we haggled some more over the price. The tailor could not speak english (for the most part we used the fabric seller to interpret) but we eventually settled on a price and agreed to be back in just over an hour's time to pick up the finished product and, it was decided, a pair of shorts to match (since there was more than enough material). The tailors are located in a series of small concrete rooms looking out over the tin roofs of the market below. There are often three or even four tailors with their sewing machines in each of the rooms, with the ocassional brazier with (clothing) iron heating up on top. Quite interesting.

We picked our way out and down the stairs and found a place to have a drink on the 1st (2nd) floor of a building right off the market where a make-shift bar had been placed. It offered great views of the market and seemed to be somewhere that even the locals hang out. Ok, so they charged us too much for the drinks – they were cold and we were having fun (10 Dalasis!)…

After quenching our immediate thirst we also helped ourselves to some freshly peeled oranges from a lady on the street. They have an interesting thing that they do here and that is to peel off the outer layer of the skin of the orange, leaving the strong inner-pulp skin and then cut off the top of the orange so you can essentially squeeze the orange juice directly into your mouth and not have to worry about the bitterness of the skin. The oranges here are VERY pulpy and have many seeds as well but they are very tasty (sweet).

We slowly made our way back to the tailor as we spit seeds into the street (believe me, refuse collection is not high on the government's agenda it seems). It was amusing as we waited for the tailor on the first floor of his stall – we spit the seeds of the oranges onto the tin roofs of the market making interesting sounds, I am sure, to the people below (rain?).

As we waited, the tailor was just putting the finishing touches on the shirt – adding matching buttons (if you would believe it). After he was finished, the shorts looked absolutely huge but the shirt was perfect – very nice. Jane got the extra fabric as a scarf…hum…

We headed north back to Westfield junction just as all the schools were let out so we were beset by children in spotless school uniforms as we found a taxi that would take us to Sabena junction (which is not quite at the end of the alley but only a short walk away from there). We dropped by the bookstore at Sabena and took a look at what they had though it was VERY expensive (even in UK or US money) – Jane is looking for a book on Gambian birds (there are a LOT of them about so she wants to know what she is looking at). I thought that 650 Delasis was too much and so did she so we headed back to the hotel where I promptly modelled my flip-flops, shirt and towel (NOT the shorts – I think they are too big…) before having a bit of a swim after a hot and dusty afternoon.

I headed back to my room to pack for the trip to Sanyang which should be very interesting. We were told we were only allowed to bring one bag so I have been trying to guess at what we will need (though there is NO way my mosquito net will fit into my rucksack along with all my other clothes!).

Our last dinner at the hotel for the next little while consisted of an English roast dinner along with trifle for dessert (though that seemed to cause me a bit of stomach trouble – milk and cream are in VERY short supply here).

After dinner was not terribly interesting as all I did was to finish packing and actually do a bit of washing as well.

After our last breakfast for some time at the hotel, a few of us headed off to the office to drop off our laptop computers before our trip since we would not be able to take them (we have been limited to “one” bag and, besides, there is no electricity at the camp) – VSO had indicated that they would ensure they were locked away and would be as safe as possible. Steve, Kate and Ben left for their homes today. They are here for shorter periods (nine months for Steve and six months for Kate and Ben, I believe) so their training has been cut short but we will be seeing them later (we are told) in the training when we return to Fajara. Steve had a bit of a problem with his house so he has chosen to stay an extra night(s?) at the hotel until it is resolved (there are no mosquito screens on the windows). The rest of us loaded up the back of a pick-up with our bags and then waited around for the 4×4 (SUV) that would be taking us to the camp.

It is a nice vehicle but with nine or so of us it was very crowded when Ebrima picked us up (though a few people rode in the back of the cab of the pick-up). The trip down to the camp was relatively uneventful as we passed a number of new developments (schools and homes) that the government and various aid agencies have started. We were lucky enough to actually see a few monkeys as they crossed the road in front of us as well – the first time I had ever seen them “in the wild”! As we passed through Tanji both sides of the roads were all populated with farms or some sort of settlement – before the town, it was basically all parkland – trees and bushes (and monkeys). Tanji is a fishing village right on the ocean and they had a number of fish out on drying racks in the village.

The road right up until we got to Sanyang itself is all brand new (except for in Tanji where we had to got into the dirt for a bit where they were building a new bridge). Most of the road, we were told, has not actually been officially opened yet so Ebrima opened it “on behalf of VSO”. I have not actually got use the the amount of honking that vehicles do here. Since there are so many people using the few roads that are around, most drivers will honk as they pass anyone either walking or on a bicycle (which promptly leaves the road to avoid any possible problems). This means the horn is used a lot.

We entered the Sanyang area travelling for only a short distance before we left the new road onto a dirt road through the village proper. This road is under construction and, I learned later, people all along where the new road is to be built (replacing the existing dirt road) were told they had to demolish their houses and they would be placed into temporary accomodation elsewhere in the village. All along the sides of the road people were taking down their homes with sledgehammers and the like. Most of the homes around here are made of breazeblock (or however you spell it) and are quite substantial. It was an interesting drive as Ebrima weaved around trying to avoid the worst of the holes and other obstacles. Those of us sitting in the very back were bounced around a great deal but it certainly was entertaining.

We were pretty much watched for the whole (slow) trip into the village. Ebrima is from this village so he stopped and talked to people out of the window (or, forgetting the windows were up because of the air-conditioning, shouted loudly in the hopes that those outside could hear) as we went along. Eventually we made it to the “centre” of the village which is home of the telecentre (where you can make telephone calls) and the (Visaca – a government initiative to promote local banking through local VDCs – Village Development Councils).

We waited for quite some time since the other driver had gotten lost and actually taken the pick-up to the camp before he realized his mistake and came to meet us at the village. During the time we were waiting we were greeted by many people from the local VDC and by many of Ebrima's friends but it was a bit as if we were on display since there were many people hanging around where the bush-taxis depart from across the street (a bigger side-lane than anywhere else) and a bit of the market also across the street (never mind the fact we were in front of some of the administrative centre of the town). We had lots of chance to practice our little knowledge of Mandinka and Wollof before they arrived…

After we were all together we were told we had to give a speach so we quickly designated Phillip to do the speaking for us (it would have been a bit easier if we had known this earlier and could have done it a bit more democratically) as we were herded down the road to meet the Alkalo who is the head of the community. He and the council of elders are the traditional “civic government” of most towns. We were guided down some back streets until we were guided into the compound of the Alkalo where we had a number of western-style living room chairs outside in the dust between two houses. They were all aligned along one side of the courtyard with their backs to what we came to know as the Alkalo's house. There were already a number of people present, the elders were on the right of the doorway (again, in the courtyard), and the important ladies of the village were on the verranda behind us on the left of the doorway, all simply waiting for us. Everyone was dressed well and many of us (VSO volunteers) felt a bit out of place since we were not prepared in advance for the formality that this turned out to be and would have dressed more appropriately (many of the ladies in our group had shorts on – a definate no-no in this sort of situation).

There was a bit of a wait for the Alkalo to come out of his house behind us so I took the oportunity to relax a bit and talked to Marcel about his previous placement in Nigeria and comparing it to what he has seen here in Sanyang (so far). As we sat, there were a number of children looking at us through doorways and windows of the building opposite and a number of chickens off to our right under a massive orange tree.

It was already beginning to get quite warm as there were a number of speaches (mostly in english though, when in another language, they were translated for us) by a representative of the VDC and a number of people from the council of elders and only a few words from the Alkalo (he is getting up to about 100 years old so does not really say a lot or move about a lot). After Phillip gave our speach (doing an absolutely marvelous job – we later all agreed) he gave our gift of Kola nuts which are a traditional gift to the Alkalo when visiting a village or the head of the household when visiting that. It turns out that there is normally a much more elaborate welcoming ceremony but since there was a death today of someone important in the village this was curtailed out of respect.

After the speeches we got up (a bit tricky since the seats were, for the most part, quite low to the ground) and had a short walk to the centre of the market. As we headed there we were joined by many children who held our hands as we walked through the back alleys (roads). At the market we were bought some Baobab juice that is frozen into small plastic bags – you bite the corner off and simply suck at the juice as it melts – it was very tasty. As we then made our way back to the cars I had a chance to talk to the person in charge of communications from the VDC – Lamin – who talked a bit about the village and the development of the road through the centre. He did not seem to think it would cause a “divide” of the community having a massive new paved road through the centre of it.

We headed back along the same road as we left for the camp which is close the beach, about a mile or so from the village. As we crossed over the paved road that we had taken earlier, Ebrima had to drive carefully to avoid a baracade that largely blocked the road to the camp directly off the new road (probably left over from the construction). It was a very bumpy drive as we made our way to the camp avoiding all sorts of hazards along the way: cows, people, chickens, holes, rocks, etc. We passed by a number of small compounds and fields as we eventually turned into the camp.

The camp is quite different from the the surrounding area – it has a bit of grass for a start (we laughed at the sign to the left of the road as we entered “car park” which is in the middle of a very small area of grass with no obvious signs that it has EVER been used for parking vehicles). The huts we will be staying in look quite nice with thatched roofs and concrete walls and floors. Some of them are round, others are rectangular in shape with all having a bit of a verranda.

We all gathered in the central meeting area – a big thatch-covered area with a concrete floor with a number of tables and chairs – and hammocks in it right beside the “check-in desk/bar/kitchen”. It is very quiet. We were organized into rooms and we quickly got our bags and delivered them appropriately before being fed lunch. Lunch was, as might be expected in this area of fishing, fish with rice – pretty good (this dish is called “benechin” – fish with flavoured rice). After lunch we decided to head off to the beach so we were given a ride. At the entrance to the camp we headed to the right and went for only a short distance along the road until it dead-ended at a smaller version of Tanji – a number of covered areas with people selling fish and a number of fisherman around working on their boats or in their smokehouses.

Sanyang Beach

Sanyang Beach

We picked our way to the beach from the car park and saw that the tourists were to the right (there is a small hotel just down the beach) and there was nothing on the left. We headed left and found a small bar with no one at it on the beach that had a number of thatched parasols in the sand with some “beach beds” scattered around (basically wicker-like low beds – about five inches high – that you can lay on). The bar part of it was two larger pargoda's that had chairs and tables inside them a bit further away from the ocean. A lady came out into the sand to take our order but I headed into the ocean right away.

The water is a lot calmer and the current a lot weaker than at Leybato and there are no people really here which is just perfect after a rather tense morning in the village (well, we had felt a bit on display). After the water we sat around and had a few drinks and chatted about the morning. They even have a limited menu at this bar though how they can charge 200 delasis for prawns or lobsters I cannot figure out (it turns out that each of these dishes are a kilogram in weight, which helps to explain the rather high price).

Having it Tough at Sanyang Beach

Chris went for a walk, as per normal, down the beach as did a number of other people. Phillip had a bit of trouble when he was solicited near the hotel but other than that there was only one person selling bracelets (which a few peopl took a look at). We relaxed for the rest of the afternoon, watching the fisherman bringing in their long wooden canoe-like fishing boats just a short distance away (right beside, if that is the correct term, the bar, if that also is the correct term). Eventually we were all together as a group and then decided to head back to the camp to prepare for dinner. We were guided along a back path away from the bar that went around the smoke houses (a rather dirty and rough looking area) back to where the car had ealier dropped us off and we headed back along the road. As we walked along we passed a large marsh area with a number of fantastic birds – we spotted more than one egret along with a number of others that we could not identify.

I had a bit of a shower and relaxed before dinner which was held in the dark. They have a man that goes around every day and fills and lights the various oil lamps they have around the camp. There are a number of these lamps in the eating area and they are also along the road and in front of each of the huts so that we don't have to be completely “in the dark”. After dinner Jane and I played a few card games before heading off to bed. I can see that because of the dark the evenings will be quite early for the next week.

My room is quite basic with a large wicker-like shelving unit in one of the “corners” (since the hut – which has a total of about four rooms – is round there are a few odd angles in the room), a wicker chair, a big queen-sized metal-framed bed (figuring out the mosquito net was a bit of a trick), a small spool bed-side table (useful for candle-holding), a shower (which works when the windmill outside is turning to pump the water) and a toilet (which not so much flushes as sloshes water about). I have also been given a bucket which I think will come in handy for when the windmill is not working and I need a shower.

My Room at Sanyang Nature Camp

Well, getting up this morning there was no water so I had to go with the rather cold option of throwing a bucket of it over my head. But it seemed to do the trick. Breakfast was late as the gentleman running the camp had to bike into town to pick up the bread. There were also a number of changes to the scheduled program for the day so, after breakfast, we started with a language class before heading off to the village where we were to visit a naming ceremony.

Every child at about a week old has a naming ceremony which is where, suprisingly enough, the child's name is decided and shared with the village. There is an elaborate set of events that occurs including the shaving of the child's hair (if it exists) and the sacrifice of a goat (immediately when the hair is shaved). There are also a series of speaches by the “town crier” during which he is given money in order to entise him to “get on with it” and name the child. We were guided into a compound and sat along the edge where we watched this event occur. Again, as with yesterday, the ladies sat to the left of the door and the men sat to the right. The mother and child sat on the ground in front of the woman. “Lamin” (a common name around here meaning “first born” [male] – “Fatou” is typically the name of the “first born” [female]). We were told that we were lucky that there was a naming ceremony today that we could witness since there are not many that are as elaborate as the one we witnessed.

After the more formal part of the ceremony had completed (the ceremony continues into the day and well into the night with dancing and singing in various parts of the village) we left once again for the town market where we picked up a few fruit before piling once again into the car to return to the camp.

Lunch was interesting as it was practice for a “communal bowl” that we are told we will be sharing tomorrow when we meet with the VDC in Sanyang. This is the common way that families eat in the Gambia and it consists of everyone eating with their RIGHT hand out of a large communal bowl of rice (typically, though can be couscous) covered with whatever (fish, chicken, beef, vegetable, etc). A big sheet was laid on the concrete of the common area of the camp and a few massive bowls of food were brought – for those of us eating meat this was “Chicken Domoda” (chicken with peanut sauce) which was absolutely fantastic. We, of course, washed our hands first and were told to sit in such a way that we can lean over to eat (so that any bits we miss go onto the sheet but not us). A few of us gave it a try with our hands (yes, me) but it was VERY hot and took a bit of getting use to. Evidently, there is no ediquitte regarding leaving uneaten food where it drops, though it is accepted and can also be used to drop bones and other waste as well (clean-up is a bit of a chore). Should be interesting tomorrow in front of the whole village.

After lunch we had a bit of a discussion about Gambian “values and norms” as well as discussions about the various ethnic groups. It was a very interesting discussion and focused in on the various elements that make up the society. It was interesting to learn that the naming ceremony and other such things are not actually religious or even ethnic group-based but rather an event performed by any family.

I managed to get a bit of “washing” done (bucket, and some wonderful hand-washing soap powder) as well as a bit of hard-work in a hammock watching the vultures fight over the scraps left over from our various meals thown out behind the “kitchen”. It is very dry here with a lot of sand about but the trees are very green and there are a lot of birds. The camp has a few bits of native wildlife including a herd of goats/sheep (we were told that the sheep have long tails and the goats have short, typically upright, tails – believe me, this is really the ONLY way to tell them apart most times) and “Rita” – the pregnant horse who wanders around trailing a rope tied around her neck (with a length of about thirty feet). Evidently the people running the camp do not know how to take care of horses and Rita's mate died a little while ago and, unfortunately, the outlook does not look good for Rita also – according to Jane who has owned horses for many years (the people running the camp have been feeding Rita some of the leftovers from our meals – I can't think that chicken is a good diet for a horse). The goats/sheep run around and get themselves into trouble all the time as they forage for something to eat.

Me (Blush) Dancing (Courtesy Jane)

Before dinner we were entertained by a group of singers/dancers from the village who were supposed to have performed the other day if it had not been for the unfortunate death. These are a group of ladies who are either barren or have had children that have died – they sing and dance (traditionally) in order to appease the gods and beg of being given a child (evidently, it has worked on more than one occasion). We were guided to a small circle of chairs under a tree in the camp and we sat opposite to the small group of performers (about 5-6 of them). They had a pail that they used for a drum and simply started to sing and dance. They were not dressed up particularly in any very fancy dress but certainly made up for it in enthusiasm. Of course, they had to get each of us involved in the dance which was very amusing. They seemed to pick on me in particular which was great fun as I tried to match their movements – I am NOT a good dancer (though that much, I feel, was obvious). It was all very enjoyable though the music was a bit repetitive after an hour or so. It was interesting to see as they performed, people walking along the road on the way back from the fishing village came into the camp (we were quite some distance into the camp) to watch or even join in. They certainly know how to have a good time and to MAKE a good time as well.

Gemma Dancing with Chris Grinning

Dinner was plain rice with fish. Jane and I continued or foray into card-playing. On our suggestion, they had a bit of a camp fire that Jane and I enjoyed but found it a bit difficult to use the light from the fire for card playing so we abandoned our playing and simply sat around and talked for a while.

It was strange, in the morning I thought I heard rain but it turned out just to be the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. It would be odd to get rain at this time of year since the rainy season is not until June or July but we were told that early in January there had been a freak spell of rain for three days but this is very unusual now during the dry season. After pulling myself out of bed and having a shower (the windmill seems to be working) I made my way to the eating/communal area only to see that the bread had not yet been fetched so I made my way to a hammock and had a bit of a rest (busy so far today).

Breakfast included watermellon today along with the normal bread, bread spread and “jam”. I do have to have a word about the bread spread. It is truly vile stuff. The first day at the camp I had put a rather generous spread of it on my bread thinking it would be either butter (such as we have at the hotel) or a good margarine. It is neither. It is an oil spread, at best. It literally coats the inside of your mouth with a bland no-flavour slick. Nasty stuff. We have taken to putting a THIN layer of it on the bread and adding salt to it (it has NO flavour). The jam is not much better, EXTREMELY sweet and with no flavour, fruit or otherwise, of it's own.

The first thing on our agenda was to visit Sanyang and see some of the local facilities. We had the choice of a few different options: Health Centre, Vegetable Garden/Fishing Village or the VDC. I, along with Philip, chose the VDC since we knew that we would most likely be having to do something with the local governments around the country. We all went to a meeting room in the Health Centre then split into our various groups (Philip and I stayed where we were). Philip and I were then given what was obvious was a canned speach about the VDC and what it does in Sanyang. I basically took notes while Philip talked. We learned that the VDC in Sanyang is one of the most successful in the country with credits including the building of the Health Centre itself along with it's impressive solar panel-powered water pump (also very expensive). It was also quite interesting to see how the VDC worked in conjunction with the council of Elders and the Alkalo in the village.

After each group had done their research we presented to the whole of the volunteers and (a bit disconcertedly) the VDC as well. It was a bit overwhelming but quite well received.

We then were guided by each of our individual hosts to our home stay homes. These are homes that we will each be staying in towards the end of the week for next weekend. These are private citizens who have opened their doors to one volunteer (each) to stay with them (and will have been paid a small renumeration for the, what they consider, priviledge). My homestay was about a mile north of the centre of the village along a small dirt road. We passed by the secondary and nursary schools (which had a half day today, it seems) and through a number of fields on our way to my (soon to be) home. The head of my family is a teacher of Koramic Studies at the English school in Sanyang. His english is quite good and he was very friendly, promising me that during my homestay I would be sat down and taught a lot of Wollof (oh, goody).

Mr. Oastas Cham lives in a small house in a small enclosure that includes a field where he grows various vegetables and a few fruit trees. Entering his compound which is surrounded by a reed fence you encounter another small reed fence (probably to keep much of the sand from blowing in) before you get to the main entrance to his house. We were led into the front main room which is long and rectangular with a number of chairs and a sofa along each wall facing each other. There is a bed at the north side of this room and a dining cabinet (full of pictures as well as china) at the other side. There are rooms leading out from each end towards the rear of the house. As I entered the house there were not many people about and the lady of the house came into the room and invited me to have lunch in another room but I had to decline since we were having lunch as a group in the VDC in just a few minutes. I was also suprised to learn that a number of his older children speak french as well (which is not too bad since my french is a LOT better than my Wollof).

It was a bit awkward but I was saved a bit when Christine, who will be staying with the family next door showed up with her head of the household to head back to the clinic for lunch. We chatted a bit as we headed back to meet the others.

Some of the volunteers had an interesting experience with Jane having been given a bushel of grapefruit – when she expressed an interest in one or two in a tree as they passed by, their guide sent a child up into the tree to pick some. No problem with fruit for a while at the camp then.

After a bit of a wait we were all taken into the meeting room again and sat around the tables (the members of the VDC and council sat along benches on one wall) when they brought in the food. There was a LOT of it. The rice alone would have fed an army, never mind the food. The vegetarians had been each made a small bowl of vegetarian food (the village had been told well in advance) and the rest of us tucked into the main courses: Chicken Domadah on Couscous (delicious but VERY, temperature, hot), fish and a bit of beef as well. They also had a bit of Plam Oil Soup which I did not try but Jane did (she did not really like it – VERY oily, hum, go figure). It was odd since they gave us soft drinks to drink as we dug in. I got some appreciative comments as I attempted to eat as much as possible (which is treated as a great compliment) – though even I had to eventually call it a day. There were great mounds left over and I felt quite guilty (as I licked my fingers clean – before going off in search of the tap outside so I could clean up).

After lunch there were a few speaches to wrap up the day before we broke up to get ready to return to the camp. Jane and I managed to also get the recipe for Domodah before we left (I will HAVE to try it out at my house whenever I get one…).

• Domodah (to be cooked with chicken or whatever)
• Fry the following in a skillet:

• Groundnut Liquid (crushed peanut paste)
• Tomato Paste
• Onion
• Hot Peppers

• Cook until simmering (I believe the “Groundnut Liquid” consists of raw peanuts so they will probably have to be cooked a bit). Then add a flour/ water mixture to thicken then, if required, add a “Maggie” cube (a stock cube) at the end for extra flavour.

We headed back to the camp with the grapefruit rolling around in the back of the car where we all got out and split up quickly to relax a bit before dinner. As I was making my way back from my hut (which is one of the furthest away from where we eat) I was called by the language trainer Ebrima (not to be confused with VSO Ebrima who drove us here the first day) who had spotted a large lizard in an area that had recently been cleared (by burning) in the camp. I missed it but I will be sure to keep my eyes open – according to Ebrima it was a few feet long (SURE it was Ebrima!).

I took the chance to do a bit of homework in a hammock before dinner. We also had a chance to try some of the grapefruit which was very good - - much sweater than I have been used to in Canada and the UK.

Another dinner at the camp followed by cards. Oh dear, very predictable.

A bit of an easy day really. It was very windy today for our language session which we held in a small, unused, building on the site (odd, that). The dust from outside and from the chalk that Alhaji was using was quite something in the “enclosed” area (well, a massive open doorway and windows…).

We learned a bit about Gambian ceremonies today and concentrated a lot on the rite of female circumcision (known as Female Genital Mutilation or FGM) since there were a few people (including myself) in the group that are quite concerned about it still being practiced. Evidently the children are taken into the “woods” where the operation is performed by other woman with rudimentary tools and there have been numerous problems with this (including girls bleeding to death). Recently there have been woman who refuse to have it done so a recent trend has been to have the procedure performed on infants (who cannot complain so much). The woman in our group were warned NOT to follow any group going into the woods as it would be assumed that if you go you wish to have the procedure performed on you. It was interesting to hear that there is no real religious basis for this practice, only a matter of tradition (and also, it was suggested, male selfishness since polygamy is still practiced here and men are concerned about not being able to satisfy all their wives so they have them circumcised).

We also discussed a bit about marriage and it was interesting to learn that although couples can now court each other without the parents being involved, the marriage ceremony actually involves the parents ONLY (the couple are not present).

After lunch we headed off to the beach where I went for a walk with the trainer Ebrima down the beach past the fisherman and the hotel to the end of the sandy part of the beach and the beginning of a more rocky section. We chatted about various things including my possible continuing on with language training (he typically does it for VSO volunteers) as well as my asking a few questions about life in the Gambia. Quite interesting.

I managed to get into the water but it was VERY wavy so I was only out for a few minutes before heading over to the bar (where everyone else was) for a drink. Eventually we headed back and passed the ladies working in the vegetable fields (the woman do this work, not the men).

Before dinner we had a two hour language session (thankfully, with a bit of a break in between) – a bit much. Dinner was lady fish cooked in tinfoil (VERY nice and tender). Cards again tonight…Though we also saw some REALLY big red ants outside our rooms before bed…

Another 7:30 wake up when I had a bit of a shower and decided to wear my complete outfit (including shorts) that I had purchased from Sarracunda market the other day. Yesterday I had tried on the shorts and found that they were SUPPOSED to be that large and actually fit quite well (especially when you draw them tight with the draw string he had put around them). Breakfast included papaya and I don't quite know if I like it, a bit slimy and not a lot of flavour, very similar to a melon or cantelope.

Our morning language session was followed by a bit of information about our homestay coming up in a few days. It was pretty much straight-forward.

Tracey and David visited us from the VSO head office. David is a Program Officer and Tracey is going to be the Program Director in a few months after Lynne leaves. It was quite something to see them down here and they seemed to enjoy the surroundings. They followed us as we went into Sanyang again, this time to have a bit of a tour of some of the things in the village.

We first visited the VISACA bank which has been very successful. It offers attractive interest rates both for savings (10%) and loans (20%). It has been operating in profit for a few years now and is well used by the community. It is run by a few employees and all the accounts are done on paper (similar to many banks here). We sat around inside the bank in the front foyer on benches along the walls as we talked to the employees of the bank (who sat, like in an inquisition, on chairs in the middle of the room) and the VDC chairman who also decided to show up. It was very interesting.

Next we made a short trip down to the primary school which teaches grades one through six (graduates are between 12 and 15 years old). As we entered the large compound we were greeted by a large number of children who were out in the yard. We eventually were able to make our way through the children into the office of headmaster who talked a bit about the school. We learned that each student has to pay a small fee for attending though those in grade six also supplement this fee by bringing in a bananna tree which they then care for on the school grounds and then the fruit is harvested and sold (which also teaches the children about how to care for trees and a bit about buying and selling). The headmaster also told us of the need for funding and how his school only receives a fraction of the books and supplies they need so they have taken to having tourists visit (they have buckets available for donations) as part of a tourism package in order to supplement their funding. At least one of their buildings has been built solely on tourist donations (one particular family, in this case). We could see that the speach he was giving us was one he has practiced many times and it was the one he gave to the tourists when they visited. Unfortunately, this time we did not have as much money as tourists would have.

We visited a classroom where we were paraded to the front of the class and given a bit of a song – feeling very much as though not only us but the children were somehow on display (which, I suppose, we all were). It was a bit awkward but more was to come later…

We passed by the rather rudimentary kitchen they have at the school, passing by the school pump as we made our way to the bananna tree plantation which was quite thick and plush with bannana trees. Very impressive and well watered with each tree having a tag indicating the name of the child or children taking care of it.

We then headed off to the nursary school where some children start as early as 2 years old. We were once again invited into the headmaster's office and given a bit of a talk about the school and what they do. I was suprised to learn that they teach reading, writing and arithmetic at such a young age. We learned that these skills must be mastered before they move down the road to the primary school for grade one. We were taken into every classroom there with more than one giving us a bit of a song (it is a shame they felt that they had to perform for us, though we were flattered). One of the buildings in the nursary school was built solely from funds donated by a European family (and, accordingly, named after them). It was also interesting to see the small garden (and chickens) they keep there not only for feeding the children but also for additional money. Evidently the nursary school is solely funded by the Sanyang VDC – no government money whatsoever.

We made our way north back past the large football pitch in between the two schools before getting onto the vehicles waiting under the trees of the primary school compound and heading back to the camp.

Lunch was a beef domadah (great!) along with watermelon. During lunch the sheep (I think they were) were getting very brave as they actually entered the eating area though were quickly chased away.

Language training in the afternoon was a bit too hot for the open-air hut we have been using so we were in the eating area when Alhaji had us perform a rather embarasing task as we were told to go an interview a few of the camp employees for some of their basic essentials (name, where they were from, where they work, how work is going, etc.). It was funny as we were given only a few minutes, a number of us quickly descended on a group of employees sitting a short distance away – they all turned and watched us approach with, it looked like, not a little curiousity and, perhaps, trepidation? Oh dear. Anyway, we got the answers we needed and they were very good about it (Alhaji explained that he had done this before and the employees knew what to expect). Nice answer I got from my interviewee – “Where do you work?” “Over there.” (I dutifully wrote it down, only knowing what he said later when reporting to Alhaji).

We talked a bit before dinner about superstitions and discussed both UK and Gambian. It was emphasised that it is all superstition and not many people actually firmly believe these things (though some, as in the UK, do).

Dinner was chicken benechin (I believe) on a bed of couscous and was very spicy. I really enjoyed it.

Dinner was followed by teaching Alhaji how to play rummy by candle- light (which we have been using to supplement the somewhat meager light provided by the lamps in the camp). He was quite good and promised to teach us how to play “crazy 8s” tomorrow night (I remember playing that game a LONG time ago as a child).

Well, today was a holiday but it turned out to be not exactly much of a holiday. Well, we had nothing scheduled for today…

It turns out that we were promised to play a game of football against the primary school (or at least a representative sample). Since none of us are football players (only two of us had ever played before) this was going to be quite an interesting event.

We headed out of the camp at about 9:30 giving up waiting for Ebrima who had the VSO vehicle. We wandered down the road a bit until we came to some shade where we stood and waited for a bush taxi. There is a bush taxi route (such as they are) between Sanyang and the beach so it was just a matter of time. As we waited a few of us got a bit nervous when a very upset bull was walking down the road towards us (evidently missing “his” women). He was pawing the ground and being awfully noisy – he was MUCH bigger than us and we were all prepared to jump over the barbed wire fence if we had to get away. Thankfully he just passed on by and did not bother us (as the trainers indicated he would, though how they knew…). Eventually a bush taxi came along and we all hopped on board. We were all scattered throughout the taxi with my sitting behind the rather young looking driver (surely he cannot have his license yet?) with my legs scraping the car battery which was in the middle of the aisle (such as it was). Philip was in the back practicing his somewhat limited Wollof on the others in the taxi (much to their merriment).

Eventually we made it to Sanyang, walking from the town “square” back to the primary school and the football pitch. The road was under SERIOUS construction today with large earth movers pushing dirt around everywhere. It is amazing no one is hurt since the road is still open as they do this…

There was a rather large crowd of children around when we made our way past the pitch to a tree for shade before we got underway. It was amusing as they all stood an equal distance away from us as we sat around and chatted – attempting to ignore the crowd that seemed to grow by the minute. We were, of course, quite a hit. Marcel, who will be teaching further in-country, sat and chatted with some children for a few minutes as well.

A perfect day for a football match – the pitch was extremely dry and dusty and the temperature was climbing by the minute. It was lucky that the game was limited to only two halfs of 15 minutes each otherwise there may have been a few casualties. The school teacher Laumin and the language tutors joined our teams which was good since Laumin then scored the first goal. The children managed to even up the score but Marcel scored the winning penalty goal in the last few minutes of the game. The referee was a bit dubious and the rules were only enforced in so far as anyone cared (though “offside” was called a few times resulting in a few of us on the VSO side gathering together to figure out exactly what it meant – I still don't know). During the game I was able to step on a child and knock over Christine much to my embarassment…Oh dear.

During the half time, it was amusing as Jane and I left the main group of volunteers to find our water bottles, to see the group in the middle of an empty circle surrounded by hundreds of children simply looking at them.

After the game it was good that Ebrima (NOT VSO Ebrima) showed up with Boabab juice which really hit the spot. We headed back to the town square where we hopped onto the same bus we had caught earlier for the trip back to the camp (2 Delasis, by the way).

After our lunch of beef “stew” with cold vegetables we headed back to the beach (lazy sods that we are). We spetn the rest of the afternoon reading, swimming, walking and burning on the beach – with the occasional drink from the bar making the whole event a bit more bearable. The water was a bit warmer and calmer today so I could enjoy it for a bit longer.

Dinner was another fish dish which we followed by another game of cards between me and Jane – Alhaji seeming to have vanished for the evening.

I did not really get a lot of sleep last night, I guess it has been the worrying about the homestay beginning tomorrow. A lot of us are nervous about the experience because of the artificiality of the experience and the awkwardness of the thing. It took 34 minutes and 4 seconds for bread to arrive today – not that we time him, by any means, just that we noticed…Perhaps he met a few people to chat to in the village today?

Our last language lesson was held after breakfast and was quite good with Alhaji giving us a bit of a pep-talk and a few phrases that might be useful during the homestay (of course, none of us will remember the phrases but it is the thought that counts…we hurriedly scribbled them all down so that at least we can look them up).

One of our group received a disturbing phone call from home today. They had got ahold of the number of Ebrima's mobile from VSO in the Fajara area (the head office here). It was quite a shock to a lot of us about the fact that we are so far away and there is so little we can do for anyone back home. It was unfortunate that they refused to talk on the first phone call and said that they would call back later in the evening with more details which made the day much more difficult for them to get through – waiting for the call.

Religion was the next section for the day that basically focused on the Islamic faith which is predominant in the country though there are some christians. It was interesting to discuss the various elements of prayer that must be observed every day as well as the “pillars of Islam” including the trip to Mecca.

Lunch was chicken yassa which is another of my Gambian favourites though the pieces of chicken were absolutely HUGE.

We began the afternoon with a trip in to see the Iman – the spiritual head – of the village. It turns out that the Iman himself had actually left yesterday and so we talked briefly with the “deputy” Iman in the Iman's house which was VERY warm (having only a tin roof visible from the inside – no insulating layer that would be provided by a ceiling). It was interesting talking about the Koran and the traditions involved in the village. Children in Sanyang are still taught the Koranic teachings using slates.

After the warm house, we were grateful for the air-conditioning of the vehicle as we returned to the camp. There were a lot of cattle and many people on the road today for some reason.

The afternoon ended with a visit from a traditional herbalist who showed us samples of the herbs he deals with including one that keeps away mosquitos, another for impotency, another used as an anticeptic and yet others for curing of an upset stomach. It was very interesting and ended in us heading out along a path out of the camp (which we had not noticed before) in order for him to actually point out the plants. We wandered along the narrow path just looking around with the palm trees and the various scrub plants. We were suprised to find a massive termite mound which was about 30 feet high and as tough as concrete. Many of the plants along the path had been dug up for people to get at the roots for their medical (and other) properties.

Me (Blush) Playing Ping-Pong with Alhaji and Ebrima (Courtesy Jane)

We were then able to relax and prepare for our trip to our homestay families tomorrow. Dinner was (fish) benechin which was, again, quite good. The phone call we had, in a way, all been dreaded arrived for our collegue. It was not good and they had to head off to bed early. It really gave a bit of a somber feeling to everyone here for the evening.

I distracted myself by getting involved with a game of “crazy 8s” with Alhaji and a few others. It was great fun and very exciting. Just what I needed.

Today has been a tough day. We were warned that the homestay would most likely be the most difficult and also, it must be said, the most rewarding (in its own way) part of our training.

Morning was essentially a matter of getting all of our stuff together that would be going to our families' homes and having breakfast (24 minutes for bread today – not bad). Jane and Sam were preparing to go to Bansaang where they would be having an abreviated homestay with local families there (they figured it was more appropriate since they would be living in the town anyway and it also gave them a chance to see their homes before they move into them in a week or so).

The truck was too small to take us all at one time so we went in two batches into the town. I was in the second trip and as we travelled along the road we saw Freida dressed in a local dress at the market already – she was in the first group. After picking up a few local people that Ebrima (who was driving us) knew we headed off along the dirt road that led to both mine and Christine's families which are about a mile north of the town centre.

When I was dropped off at the house, only the eldest daughter was there so I was shown into my room and put up my mosquito net (not all that easy since the ceiling/roof is quite some distance above the bed and the beams that I tied it to are rough hewn. This occupied only a short time so I headed out the back door to see whether or not I could help so I was put to work pounding some spices, peppers, garlic and onions using a large morter and pestil. She was cooking in the small cookhouse behind the house. There is a small fire in the middle of the (approximately) 6 foot by 6 foot room with all of the various pots stacked around the walls (on the ground) and the knives (all aluminium - - not terribly good at cutting, very blunt) are just slid between the pieces of wood on the door for storage. The fire was really hot and she had a wok with a good amount of oil in it smoking away in it. She added some smoked fish and a number of other things as I was put to use cutting up some vegetables including potatoes and bitter tomato (which I have to admit aren't my favourite vegetable). I was able to continue my efforts by drawing water from the well – they have a good system of two buckets at opposite ends of a circular length of rope on a pulley – when you pull one bucket up the other drops to get more water (the 'buckets' are simply plastic oil containers adapted for water retrieval – ie. bigger holes).

As to how much I helped, this is debatable as I was attempting to assist with the washing up – not realizing that the corn meal mush was meant for the chickens (she took care of it for me throwing it simply into the bushes near the banana trees). I was able to entertain a younger son who showed up a few minutes later with my hat. I have to tell you about my hat. This is a gift from my mother for Christmas and it is a “Tilley” hat that she brought for me from Canada. It a panama-style beige rough-and-tumble hat that is very good at keeping the sun off of my neck and face while I have been here. It is getting a bit dirty and it is certainly well used but I use it all the time. I must admit that the boy really enjoyed it and had a great time when I took his picture with my digital camera and showed it to him (“me?”). Of course, he did not speak any english but seemed a lot smarter than he let on. This is common with the children here who are not as innocent as they appear – they can't be as they are left to their own resources much of the time.

The mother arrived and we very quickly got organized for lunch which we had using a communal bowl on the floor of the front room. The lunch was very good and the smoked fish absolutely fantastic. It was a bit hot eating though they gave me a spoon (and I was not the only one using a spoon in the expanding crowd of family around me). Eventually, despite their insistance I continue, I stopped eating and relaxed for a few minutes. They cleaned up the mess left on the floor and a few minutes later my host father appeared. He was very welcoming and I made sure he got his Kola nuts (a traditional offering to the family as a gesture of respect – also given to the Alkalo when visiting a village, again, out of respect) and thanked him for his hospitality. His english is such that I believe he understood. I was then invited to have lunch again with the father (it is a gesture of respect to eat with the head of the household) which I dutifully did – though I was getting more than a little full of food – who is that says I will loose weight while in the Gambia?

After lunch I was running a bit low on water so we headed off to visit our neighbour (the Joofs) who were hosting Christine. She was given the water filter for us (VSO had indicated that we should be filtering any water we drink in the village) but it was not working so a son was sent to get water from the local village tap. The village actually has centrally piped (and treated) water throughout though the tap was a bit of distance away and it was getting hot – our hosts insisted they send the son.

We headed back to the compound where I was sat in a chair outside the front of the house and went over the various parts of the body (in Wolof of course) – Mr. Cham keeping to his promise at my last visit that I would be getting language lessons during my stay with him. It was a bit awkward as he pointed out the various parts of the anatomy on his son (including, to our embarassment, the nether regions). It was very good but getting a bit overwhelming when Chris (tine) visited from the neighbour as they were on their way in their car to town for our nightly meeting (at 6 each day during our homestay we are to meet at the bank area for a “feedback” session – but we agreed it would be a good time to see how everyone else was getting along anyway so we all thought it would be a good idea to meet irregardless of whether or not there was anything to discuss). Actually, Mr. Joof needed to have his car radio fixed so we were invited to sit on a bench along a wall (in the shade) near where the bush taxis congregate while he haggled with a local mechanic as they fixed it. As we sat there we simply watched what was going on in the village around us – a man was grinding peanuts (groundnuts) using a large mill to our right, Mr. Joof was getting his car fixed in front of us, a large number of children were fetching water at the local pump just past the bush taxi car park ahead of us (all dirt car park, of course), a few woman were selling things by the side of the road just off to our left and the main road through the village was on our extreme left (currently being paved using rather large machinery). As we sat there, Chris was given a gift of a large bag of fresh fruit from a local who knew that she was a vegetarian and we had met a few days ago. We were both overwelmed and he was thanked repeatedly.

We then headed off to Ebrima's house, though Chris and I did not really want to visit him, Mr. Joof was thinking we should (I guess). He was sleeping when we arrived in his busy compound so we sat in his (small) front room admiring his extensive video tape collection and music posters on the walls. He eventually joined us though Chris and I felt like we were disturbing his private life (though he introduced us to his youngest – very pretty) so we suggested, after some repeated urgings, that we would go for a short walk and meet back at the bank for the meeting at 6. As we headed off we were told not to go along the path we had just been following to see where it went since it went into the “bush” (some compounds are well out of the town and not accessible by car). We were only just walking not with a particular destination in mind but, due to their insistance, we headed on a more direct path to the bank (though we were NOT in a hurry). We passed by a large number of children in a few compounds, giving our greetings as we passed. Eventually we made it to the main road and the school that we had visited the other day. We walked along the side of the road trying to avoid the various signs of road construction all around us (piles of dirt here and there, construction vehicles on the side of the road, etc.).

At the bank we met up with the other volunteers and shared a bit about our days. Obviously, as is the case with this sort of thing, we talked largely about the unusual or not so good parts of our stays – though we all agreed that the people we were staying with and had met were very nice and welcoming. Philip indicated that he was being left by himself largely (this is a local sign of respect) eating by himself and not being able to communicate at all (they seem to speak no english at all). Marcel and Jolanda seem to be the only adults other than the Alkalo in their compound – there are a lot of children so they are feeling a bit overwhelmed. They met with the Alkalo only briefly when they arrived in their compound but since he is very old and their language skills are not that good yet communication was a bit of a problem. Chris indicated that she has cockroaches in her bedroom and a hay matress. Freida, who was really worried before her homestay, is one who is having the time of her life – she is very happy and modelled her outfit that was given to her by her homestay family. Despite all of the moanings, everyone agreed that things were going well and that we really all enjoyed and liked our families.

After our little informal meeting Papa Joof took us for a bit of a drive in his car. We headed back to the main paved road that goes to Sanyang (and meets the road going through the village at a right angle) and then headed south for a short distance watching children beside the road throwing stones into a Baobab tree attempting to get some fruit. We left the main road and headed into some small side roads south of the village. The roads, if anything, are much worse than we had seen anywhere else in this area with massive drainage ditches through the middle of them. We bounced around past a number of compounds, as we stopped for about half an hour to watch a performance being given in the 'street' as part of a naming ceremony taking place today. The naming ceremony itself is typically followed by dancing and singing at various places around the village well into the night. It was fun to watch the mothers with their small children bundled tight on their backs bouncing around in time with their mother's dancing (amazing to think that they just use a length of fabric and wrap their child in with it). One child was even fast asleep! The music was wonderful as we stood a bit of a distance away and watched. The sun was setting as they continued dancing under the shade of a big baobab tree and we watched as some bats made their first forays of the night.

Eventually we headed back to our houses and I was let off at my gate where there were a few children waiting for me. I made my way into the house and had a sit and chatted (much as I could with the language) for a few minutes before they brought out dinner (which was, again, very nice, a fish benechin).

After dinner I chatted for a few minutes with a relative who was there visiting. She is studying to be a teacher and speaks very good english. It was good since I was able to get into a discussion with her about what VSO is and what I am doing in the country. She was quite interested and it made the situation a bit less awkward than I felt it was. The mother started peeling ground nuts on the floor off to one side of the front room as we sat around and chatted (well, everyone else chatted, I only chimed in when I was spoken to – many times just to repeat something that someone said to me in Wolof). They attempted to watch television on their small black and white set but it did not last as the car battery they were using went flat.

Eventually I headed off into my room to go to bed but I forced myself to visit the toilet before I did this. It was pitch dark outside (there are no street lights in this country) as I used my torch to find my way to the hole in the ground that they used for this purpose in one corner of the compound (on the other side of a small area of planting). It is separated from the rest of the compound with a small waist-high woven fence and is a bit of a bulge of concrete with a hole in the middle. It was swarming with cockroaches. Luckily men don't have to crouch to use the toilet most of the time…I took some time on my way back to the house to admire the wonderfully clear sky.

I returned to my room and used the rest of what was remaining of the candle I had lit earlier for the family (it seemed to be better than the ones that they were using – a lot bigger and brighter – Jane and I had picked some of them up near the Saraccunda market about a week ago) to attempt to read – but this did not really work all that well. The room is VERY hot since they closed all of the windows and doors (the doors, on their insistance, are locked as well, from my side). Tomorrow is the one full day of our homestay.

Last night there were dogs barking at one another all night as well as bedbugs in my bed. Not so good as I am now scratching all over, especially around the ankles. I only hope I can get them out of all of my belongings. I guess this is quite common with the hay mattresses and pillows that are used.

The noise at night was not so bad that I could hear the mosque call to prayers early (5-6) in the morning which, I learned later, the others staying in the town itself heard quite clearly.

I had a shower this morning using a bucket but I wore a swimsuit (I am shy) and dumped the water over my head in the small area set aside for bathing in the back of the house (just opposite the cook house). I had to fetch the water myself but that was not too bad (though it was VERY cold fetching the water woke me up a bit so that it was not as bad as it could have been). I shyly headed back with my towel wrapped around me to my room where I quickly dressed and realized that other than the women of the family I was the only one up so I sat outside and read and wrote a bit in my book.

Breakfast was served to me and the head of the household on our own on the floor of my room (which, I learned, was his room which he had vacated for me to use during my stay). It was a rice porridge with sweat and condensed milk sauce. It was quite good though, once again, there was far too much to eat (despite repeated urgings).

After breakfast I needed more water in my water bottle so we went next door to get Chris (who slept well though had some awkward conversations with her family) and headed off down a side path to the water pipe. We walked along the path as it passed a number of fields and small houses, stopping for a few minutes to chat to the local Iman (religious leader) before we realised that the tap had not yet been turned on for the day (evidently it is only pumped between something like 10 am and 5 pm every day). We chatted a bit on the way back to our houses and I was given a chair to sit in outside the back of my homestay house. I sat for a few minutes reading and writing before me and my host father headed back to the pipe to attempt to fill my water bottle again. This time the water was working and we stopped for a few minutes and got some fruit from one of the Iman's trees before returning once again to the compound.

There was a disturbing event that happened today. As I was sitting in the chair at the back there was a large bowl full of soapy water that had been left to one side of the area immediately behind the house (beside the bathing area). A few baby chickens (chicks) had somehow fallen into the water and could not get out. I tried to point this out to the mother and daughter but they did not seem to understand me so eventually I got very concerned as the chicks got more and more tired so I plucked them from the water and laid them out beside. One of the chicks breathed his last as I watched though the other two looked like they would make it (they kept breathing and twitching though obviously in some distress). When the mother realized what had happened she soundly berated the daughter for leaving the water out and I could do nothing but watch (and feeling guilty that I should have done something sooner and all would have survived).

My name is Abdouli Cham. Yesterday I was told that I would be given a Gambian name and this is the one that was given to me by Oustas (the father) earlier today. I now respond equally well to “Abdouli” or “Steve”.

Lunch was served and we followed it by my attempting to brew Attaya for the family. At the camp I have been learning how to brew “Attaya” which is a local version of tea that many people drink here. Essentially it is VERY strong tea with LOTS of sugar and is drunk VERY hot. It is prepared (typically) using a small metal tea pot on a bed of coals that are in a small metal bracket. Water is added and brought to the boil then you add a LOT of tea and then BOIL the tea for a few minutes before adding the same amount again of sugar (and perhaps even more sugar). Eventually you get a bit of a froth on the top of the tea, you pour out the tea into a glass then pour the tea back into the pot at some height in order to bring out a froth in the tea. The more froth the better. Anyway, I gave this a try for my family but it did not work terribly well but eventually we were interrupted by a visit from Chris and her host who came by to see if I wanted to go into town again for the beach. I was thankful for the break though felt a bit guilty at leaving…

Brewing Attaya at Sanyang Nature Camp (Courtesy Jane)

We headed off through the town and off to the beach. We showed Papa Joof and his sons the way to avoid the fishing area and head directly to the bar (we have learned these things over the past week here). Philip, Marcel, Jolanda and Gemma were already there so we sat around and discussed what was happening with each of the families. We had a relaxing time as I had a bit of a swim (very warm and calm today in the water).

Eventually we headed back to the town where I was let out to dump my things back at my compound before heading out for the evening meeting at the town centre. I had a bit of time so Oustas and I did a bit more vocabulary work before the car once again showed up for the trip back to town. When we got there we realized that there was a Kora band playing tonight behind the bank so they were just warming up and sounding VERY loud. I sat and chatted to Chris for a time before we were asked to pay for the music despite the fact that we were outside where they were actually playing sitting on a bench. We could not figure out why they were doing this so we walked away, learning later that this lady did not know what she was talking about asking for the money.

I headed off without going on, disappointing one young member of the Cham household who had come with me into town. He had assumed I would pay for him to go to the concert but I had indicated that this would only be the case if I went in with him (which I did not do). He was a bit upset about this and asked for a number of things from me as we walked back to the compound. It was very awkward for me and very unfortunate. I was told later that I had acted the way the parents would have appreciated so this made me feel better but I think I might have lost a friend.

As I sat in the back they were preparing tonights dinner which was chicken with noodles. They were washing off the obviously VERY fresh chicken (blood stains in corner) leaving not one bit of the chicken to waste (I will not draw you a picture). I sat for a few minutes before I was invited into the front room to chat with the nursary school head master who we had met the other day. He is a very nice person and we chatted some minutes before being told by one of the older sons that we had to speak in Wolof – this killed the conversation somewhat. Eventually, the headmaster, myself and Oustas ate in my room on the floor – it was absolutely wonderful and was served with bread. The chicken was on a platter with a wonderful sauce and noodle bed. We finished it all and cleaned the plate with the bread (over and over again until Oustas was happy). I ate a lot (again).

After dinner things were a bit awkward as I was asked to dance (even though no one else was) to the music they were playing on the radio. I did not want to be a subject of amusement after a rather long day – though I am sure that is not how they intended it. I helped myself to some Attaya before heading off to bed. No trip to the toilet for me tonight – I will save it up for tomorrow…

I got up at the same time as yesterday again today. This time NO swimsuit (call me an exhibitionist but it is VERY private in the bath area anyway though a bit awkward pulling up water from the well with only a towel around my waist). I began to pack up my things, taking down the mosquito net, killing as many of the bed bugs as I could leaving red spots all over the net.

Breakfast was once again the rice porridge with Oustas before Chris came to get me in Papa Joof's car. We took a few minutes to get everyone together for a picture before heading back into town. They all asked me if I would come back to visit and I said I would – after all, they are my Gambian family and I am Abdouli Cham.

Cham Family at Sanyang

We all gathered in front of the bank and were amused to see that Jolanda and Marcel were wearing clothes they had been given by their homestay (they both matched – Awwwwwwwwww…). It was a bit awkward as Oustas waited with us for a few minutes before Ebrima came with the car to take us back to the camp.

We spent a few minutes writing up what we thought about the homestay experience, passing a few thoughts on to Alhaji about this. It was not all that positive and I can't help but feel that we are just a bunch of moaning spoiled people though, thinking about it, we all put a lot of effort into our experiences and we all very much enjoyed the people we met and the things we did, it is just that the situation is so very much contrived we felt awkward almost all of the time – being the centre of attention and lack of any meaningful communication was very hard.

We had our last lunch at the camp before all heading back to Safari Garden. The afternoon we spent unloading our things into our rooms (we were once again sharing since the hotel had an unexpected number of visitors show up while we were gone). I am sharing a room with Philip which is OK since we are working in very similar jobs in, goodness, only a week from now.

It is a bit surreal to be back at the hotel after the previous week. This is yet another world of experiences from what we have done. We all feel as if we have accomplished something and know that the real challenge – work – is yet to come. What we have really been brought here to do. All of this has been just pre-amble.

Sam and Jane both had a great time up country though the trip took a long time and they had difficult experiences at their homestays. The trip should only take about 3 hours but it took around about 6 because of the conditions of the road, the amount of stuff that was piled in the back of the vehicle (for their houses) and the dust and heat that was quite bad. They had a lot of trouble because they did not use the air conditioning in the vehicle and the windows had to be up because of the dust so they were VERY hot. Their homestays did not have any filtered water so that made things a bit difficult. They are both very excited with their houses though and are looking forward to leaving for there in another week.

After breakfast we had our first session on gender issues which was very good with a representative from a local woman's group giving her perspective on various issues (including the one that always seems to come up when our group talks about this: FGM). It was a bit rude though that some people from the hotel were talking very loudly outside of the room where we were talking as they got their breakfast even though they could see (and hear) that we were having a meeting. I can only assume that either 1) they did not know there was a meeting taking place or 2) they were being very rude. It was a bit awkward since the nature of the talk was quite important and sensitive. We had a great discussion in small groups about various gender issues including the importance of “political correctness”.

Well, we saw our houses today. We were taken in a group to see ours houses, those of us living in the Kanifing area (just north and east of the hotel). They all look pretty good though some of us are going to have to wait for things to be done to them. We bumped along the side roads as we attempted to find the various houses but Ebrima knew where he was going. Most of the houses need something or another done to them but they are all not too bad. I think Gemma has a bit of a difficult situation since she will actually not be moving into her house beside Chris for quite some time since the person currently in it is not scheduled to leave for another few weeks yet. She is having to stay elsewhere until then. Philips house is on the edge of what is known as the “waste land” and it is exactly that – a bit open area of scrub land beside the stadium (with a big new road running through the middle) that serves as a dumping ground for rubish since garbage collection is not a priority for the local government. He has a bit of a rat problem because of this so that is something that VSO is working on getting fixed. Other than that, his house is alone in his compound with lots of large fruit trees all around the house (within the compound).

I was supposed to have dinner with Chris who is working for the government as well (the Department of State for Education, I am working for the Department of State for Health in the Planning Unit) but he was unable to attend so I headed off with a few others and we ate at a small place just down Pipeline (the main road running east and west in Kanifing and Fajara). It was a small lebanese-run establishment that serves a pretty good Falafal (and, for us very importantly, at a good price).

Philip was able to get another room so he left me today (was it something I said?). I am alone in my room now, which is probably just as well as I have those bed-bugs from Sanyang. Yesterday we very carefully sprayed the room with bug spray (from both the hotel and Jane – who uses it in her room every night) to attempt to get rid of them and done again today so, hopefully, this has done the trick.

Today after breakfast we headed off to the office where we were given a bit of a discussion about development issues and the main reason we are here to do our jobs: assist in the development of the country. This is of primary concern as representatives of VSO. We need to promote local development in our respective positions hopefully by leaving our expertise behind in the people we work with. Many of us are working with counterparts who we are to train in how to do our job so this is a bit easier but others are expected to teach “by example”. We always have to remember we are “in this world but not of it” and that we are here to learn as much as Gambians are to learn from us.

This discussion was followed by a discussion about the Small Projects Fund which is something that VSO has set up to encourage small development projects. This allows VSO volunteers to manage and visit places they might not normally visit during the course of their placement. The types of projects funded includes building buildings, funding craft guilds, paying for water pumps, etc. All of the proposals are vetted and the eventual projects are monitored by volunteers.

We were suprised to learn that all of our money for both our “household allowance” and first three month's pay were given to us in the form of a cheque (no money whatsoever) meaning that we would have to visit a bank quite shortly if we wanted to use it (and, if we need to, open a bank account at the same time). It was not made a lot easier when we were told that if we wanted the money right away we would have to go to the bank were the cheque was written from (in Bakau, about a mile up Atlantic road from the office). A bit of a suprise but it would have been nice to know this in advance so we could have made arrangements to do all of this.

Jane, Chris and I headed off to Westfield where we found a bank just south of the junction where we could open an account. The manager was very pleasant and actually let us take out cash today. He chatted as we handed him our completed forms, talking a bit to Jane about Bansaang (he has family there and he indicated that if Jane wanted money, just let him know and he would bring it up when visiting…). It was very informal but quite pleasant. We all got our little account books with our balance written in (everything is done on paper here though they have A computer…).

Today was the first day of a two-day employee/employer conference in Banjul. We were picked by Lynne up just after breakfast and we were taken into Banjul to the Royal Victoria Hospital. The traffic was very busy as we pulled into the gates of this old colonial-style hospital. We parked in the car park and then wandered around the side of the buildings, along a dirt road, and up an outside staircase (lots of those about here) into the canteen where we waited for the employers to arrive as we helped ourselves to tea/coffee and water. The canteen overlooks Independence Avenue so many of us spent some time just watching the people and traffic go by.

Eventually most of the employers had arrived so we proceeded into the meeting room a few doors down where we discussed a bit about what was going to happen over the first few days and we had the dreaded “ice- breaker” excercise where we had to go around and figure out who was described with a series of odd facts (“person born below the sea” – answer Marcel since he was born in the Netherlands which has much of it's land below sea level – reclaimed from the sea in fact). We had given Lynne a small anecdote about ourselves shortly after we arrived which was used for this excercise. I picked a bit of an odd thing, suggesting that I was an avid collector of stamps and coins since I knew that not many people would have guessed that! It was largely an embarassing excercise but a bit of fun for the first thing…

Much of the day was spent discussing the basics about the job and what VSO expected from both parties (the employers and the employees). We spent a bit of time discussing development as well as things like the practicalities of where we would be working (take the bush taxi to…). I found out that my office is right beside the main entrance to the market in Banjul on the first floor (second floor) of an old, colonial style, office building. It is also right beside the residence of the president. I met Kalleh and Margaret (Peace Corps, though now an independant contractor) who I would be working with though my ultimate “boss” also showed up for a few minutes just to introduce himself.

The last thing in the afternoon we split into two groups (employers and employees) and as employees we discussed our feelings about the in- country training that we have just completed. The feelings of the group were largely positive though we had to say something about the homestay which we were very uncomfortable with and questioned the benefit that we actually received. It was a constructive conversation and was met with concern by the VSO staff.

It was a very good day and also very interesting. When we left we all got into the hot car for the return trip to the hotel.

I did not bother with dinner but basically went straight to bed since I was not feeling too good. I think it could be the water in Banjul but my stomach was not doing all that well.

Today was the last day of the employee workshop and it was a shorter day (thankfully). The air conditioner in the meeting room we are using is very loud but it is so hot we need it so the trade off is heat or being able to hear…hum…

We discussed a bit about the paperwork that we would be expected to file for VSO over our placement as well as a bit more about each placement. I was able to talk to Philip a bit more about our co- operation and mutual interests working for the Department of State for Health and Education.

After getting back to the hotel we spent a bit of time at the beach and/or by the side of the pool (life is very rough) before heading out for dinner. I was able to pick up some things for my house from a person from Canada who is leaving in a few days. He was able to give me a wok, and other various essential items for the house (a bit of food as well). He was staying with a friend in a compound just around the corner whose place had it's own guard, air-conditioning, satellite TV, and was HUGE. He was just staying there before he left, evidently his home when he was actually living here was not quite as nice…The stuff piled up nicely in a corner of my room as I gave a few things away to other volunteers who wanted things (Jane took most of the canned food since they have been told that getting things in Bansaang is not that easy).

Well, today is the day that I finally move into my new home for the next two years. It will be nice not to be living out of a suitcase but actually in my own house. I will be able to have my privacy and be able to do what I want when I want to do it. Ah, freedom!

I was up early and packed up my few remaining items before having breakfast with the others. After we threw our stuff into the back of the pick-up truck we headed off to the various houses, dropping off things as we dropped off the various people. It was all quite exciting and I think that everyone felt the same way. Philip was shocked to see that the people that had come in to see about his rat problem had also SERIOUSLY trimmed his trees supposedly to help keep the rats out (though it is unclear how this will help) – it was good to see that his locks had been replaced (since previously it had taken a good five minutes of rattling to get them to work).

My place is very small with only four rooms: a large dining/living room, a small kitchen, a large bedroom and a “bathroom” (well, a shower room with a toilet, with the typical thing of having the shower as part of the room itself with nothing to prevent the water from going everywhere in the room). The floors are covered with linoleum and there are only curtains on two of the six windows (we shall have to see about that). VSO have provided a gas stove (with gas tank right beside it), an electric fridge, a table with two chairs (to eat at), a “coffee” table, two chairs for sitting in (with uncovered foam cushions), a bed (with new mattress, still covered in plastic) and a chest of drawers for clothing. That is it. But, all the windows are covered with mosquito netting and I also have a few pots with some withered plants in my front “patio” area (concrete floor). It is quite nice but it will need some work.

I was very happy to see that one of the previous occupants had put in a telephone which means I will not have to fight with GamTel to have one put in (I have heard of delays of up to a year to get one installed – they have few, if any, available telephone numbers in this area and no infrastructure in place to add any more).

I was able to put my meager belongings in their appropriate locations (the kitchen looks like it has the most items already purchased…). I was introduced to the landlord's wife who came to introduce herself shortly after I arrived and I was introduced by my VSO neighbour's to the maid who I have been told will be taking care of my laundry (hurray!). The maid lives works for the compound and cleans, cooks and washes for everyone (at a very nominal charge).

Glynn and Sue are my two VSO neighbours who have been here for close to two years now and will be leaving shortly. They live in the house next to mine in the compound. They invited me in for lunch of some soup and bread (which was very nice). Their house is very nice and I have learned that they put a lot of work into it. They have a wonderful wooden parquet floor in the halls and rooms and a very spacious living room. Everything is done very nicely with patterned fabric everywhere. They are also very nice and were very welcoming. I have also learned that they have a car and for the short time that they have remaining here have offered to give me a lift into Banjul every day (otherwise I would have to take two bush taxis in each way).

They had a bit of a fright over the last night since someone climbed over the wall and took the battery out of the car. I was told that since it was close to Tobaski (the muslim holiday commemorating the event in the bible where Isaac was going to sacrifice his son to God but God stopped him and had him sacrifice a ram instead…families now sacrifice a ram at Tobaski in rememberence of this) that people are getting desperate for money so things are more likely to go “missing”. Considering that the outside walls of the compound are a good 10 feet high and tipped with broken glass they must have been pretty desperate…I was also told they had taken some plastic lawn furniture from my house when a previous occupant lived here as well.

Glynn and Sue are off to Senegal in their car for the weekend so I consoled myself with a trip to the beach where I visited with Jane and Sam who do not leave for Bansaang until Monday or Tuesday so they have a bit of time at the hotel until then. Jane and I headed up to Bakau a short time later where I was able to pick up some vegetables, fruit, rice and a tablecloth. I haggled a little bit but the cost was so little that it was not too much of a problem.

I headed back home and had only a few minutes to myself before I was to be picked up for my delayed meeting with Chris (who stood me up earlier in the week) about work at Education. He was a bit late as I sat on the stoop in front of the compound but eventually he arrived and we picked up Philip and then headed off to a local bar (“Come Inn”) for a few drinks. It is a small bar just off of Pipeline but is quite nice with low lighting and lots of trees. No sooner than we had sat were we met by a number of other volunteers and work aquaintences (of someone or another) so we had only a few minutes to actually talk about work.

Eventually we headed out to the going away party being held for the guy (Deep) I had bought the household items from the other day. It was south near the SeneGambia hotel (the biggest hotel in the country) at an Indian restaurant (“Taste of India”) – a buffet. I had been thinking I would NOT go to it because of the cost but since Chris wanted to go…oh well, what is money but to spend (I keep having to tell myself that I am only getting paid about 100 dalasis a day, this meal was 150!). Chris was using his work's land rover as he careened down the road to find the restaurant. It is very strange near the bit hotels as it is so different than everywhere else I have been in the Gambia – the restaurants are very nice and there are NO Gambians really around. Scary.

There were quite a number of us at the restaurant as they brought a series of appetizers out for us to have (the bahji were VERY good though the fish version I could take or leave…). Deep had purchased some hard liquor for the party as well that was available in the middle of the table for whoever wanted it (I, of course, gave that a miss since I do not drink). It was a very raucaus group and we had a good time chatting away the hours (though, sadly, not much about work). I met a few interesting people as well before they eventually rolled out the “buffet” dinner which was a small sampling of curries and rice. By the end of the buffet we left (before dessert was even served) and Chris gave us a terrifying drive up the road to a local bar (Salz) for a “night cap”. He tried to “ditch us” but we moaned about trying to find a taxi at that time of night (and the cost). He drives VERY fast.

Salz is a wonderfully small bar between Senegambia and Pipeline just off the road. It is run by, funnily enough, Sal who is a wondeful lady that serves drinks and chats to her customers. They have a pool table and even satellite TV (Philip was busy making arrangements to see the rugby tomorrow in the afternoon – for sports is the only time that Salz will open it's doors before 10 at night).

Chris eventually raced us (I can't say “drove us”) to our respective homes. It was a bit exciting (?) to race along the dirt roads that criss-cross the Wastelands outside of Philips house in the middle of the night with someone who has had one or two drinks…Philip and I both offered to walk from the road but Chris would have none of it and drove us both to our doors.

I need a rest.

Today was the first full day in what is to be my home for the next two years. I slept well despite the late night at Deep's party and got up at 8:30.

There is not really a lot to do in the house so I read after having my breakfast of fresh bread, oranges and bananas. There is a “bitiko” actually in the wall of the compound I am living in. This is a small (literally) hole in the wall that sells a lot of the basics – bread, eggs, soft drinks, beer, and anything else you should need from a well- stocked corner store. It is a small place with things stacked all over the place with a small, quiet man running it (it is hard to tell what language he speaks since he speaks so little). The shop is open basically all the time and I can see that I will be using it to pick up bread every morning (or every other morning since a single loaf the size I get will last me two days – a small loaf is 1 delasis and a bigger loaf is 2 delasis). It is very convienient.

I headed off to visit the market. I am about a five minute walk from pipeline on a road called “Mosque Road” for some reason named after the fact that a mosque is right on pipeline where this road meets it (at a right angle). From this intersection I walked another 15 minutes to the east to Westfield junction where I visited the Gamtel offices to find out how much is owing on the telephone that I have. The Gamtel offices are the only offices that actually look like such at the junction. It is a multi-story building (the only one around) with a tele-centre and “accounts department” on the main floor. When I entered, there were a number of disinterested employees behind some serious looking grating. I approached the first on my right to see a lady counting money and doing some work on a computer. She told me (using hand gestures, largely) that she had to enter a few things into the computer before she could help me so indicated that I have a seat. I was not the only one in the seats along the wall, though many people came in and out using the various phone “booths” along the corner. Tele-centres are places where you can use a telephone for as long as you like and for as many calls as you like, simply paying for what you have done to a cashier who has a computer that keeps track of all the various charges.

Eventually, I found out how much was owing on the telephone – something that the VSO who was living in my house previously will have to pay me for – then I headed south towards Saracunda. After a quick visit to the bank (there was an ENORMOUS queue for the (one) teller since the guy in the front was obviously withdrawing a LOT of money and wanted to count it – when the currency is worth so little you end up with great stacks for relatively small amounts – I have been told that some of the airlines here accept ONLY cash payments so you pretty much need a big bag to carry all of it from the bank to the travel agent) I dropped into an interesting store that sells everything you can think of for a house – from dishes, cutlery, televisions, radios to fridges, food and candles. It is not a cheap store but I was able to pick up a few essentials (can opener, cutlery and some glasses – I had purchased some things from Deep the other day so that this was a lot less that I would have been buying otherwise).

From Sun Kerr, I headed into Saracunda market itself but did not get anything. It is a very interesting market with lots of things going on. Since it is just before the holiday it was very busy with many of the roads simply clogged with people selling things.

I headed back north past the open sewers and the money lenders at Westfield Junction and caught a taxi to Harry's (a well-known supermarket on pipeline just a few minutes walk from my road). I was able to pick up a rechargable electric light from an electronics store beside Harry's – I had been advise that due to the unreliability of the electricity this might be a good idea. Jane, since she was going to an area further in-country where electricity was even less reliable, had picked up a few of these lights one of which had a built in fan and radio! She had avoided the next model up which had a tape deck as well…I was also able to pick up a short-wave radio in the hope that I will be able to pick up BBC world service. The radio is funny as it is a “Naiwa” instead of the large electronics manufacturer “Aiwa”“Sqny” or “Panasoanic” – very funny. Then of course you have the well known brand “Big Battery”.

At Harry's I was able to pick up a few things for the kitchen that I was missing including some towels and a seive for the rice before I headed back home. I spent the afternoon catching up on some work on my computer and feeding the cats for Glynn and Sue since they are away this weekend. The evening was pretty dull as I watered the plants and made myself dinner – bread, oranges, bananas and cup-a-soup. I had picked up a “Katcha” card at the Gamtel office earlier in the day – these are the common method that people use to make phone calls both local AND international and actually the only way you can make international calls from most phones (since international phone lines are even rarer than home telephones). I made a few desperately short phone calls to my grandmother and sister (my mother is away in Mexico for the next few weeks) before my 200 delasis were all but used up. It was good to hear them albeit for only a few minutes…

I am sleeping with a single sheet that was included in Deep's household stuff he had sold me on top of the plastic that the matress was delivered in – I have also not yet taken off the plastic that is around the pillow I purchased from Harry's today – not until I get a pillowcase or something. I am not all too bothered about getting all sorts of things for the house in a hurry – I have a long time here so I do not see the need to rush around and get everything now, only those things that I actually need to live from day to day (like food).

It is Sunday so it was once again rugby day down at Leybato so I was at the beach for much of the day catching up with the other volunteers about their houses and what they were up to.

On the way back from the beach I stopped by the Internet cafe that is just around the corner to quickly check my e-mail then I stopped by Harry's which is just a bit further along (past THE traffic lights) then made my way home to find that the electricity was out so I was able to test out my rechargable (emergency) lights which worked just fine. The cats enjoyed their meals and I was delighted to have my first phone call which was my grandmother calling to see how I was doing.

Dinner was fried rice with a few things in it (I will have to actually get some meat but I DON'T want to get it from the market – they sell it covered with flies on dubiously clean wood benches in the heat of the sun – I have to have something a bit…safer to eat) from the fridge. Dinner was followed by a brief visit from my landlord who introduced himself (he seems like a very nice person).

The evening was finished off with a bit of reading which I think I will be doing a lot of here though I have only brought a few books with me…I think I will have to take advantage of the somewhat meager pickings at the VSO office of reading material…other volunteers have, over the years, left various novels behind which fill three walls of shelves at the VSO office in various states of decay.

It was nice to be at my house this weekend because this was a holiday and gave me even more of a chance to get “settled in”. VSO has given us really about six months for this, not expecting that we will get any “real work” done until later.

My morning cold shower was followed by breakfast (the usual bread and fresh fruit) then followed by catching up on some more computer work I had been meaning to do. The celebrations at the Independence stadium which is only a short distance away were quite audible with the sight of the single plane from the military flying overhead multiple times (it looked like a russian Mig that he was flying).

Glynn and Sue arrived later in the afternoon after their trip to Senegal and were a bit chagrined about the 5 1/2 hour wait for the ferry to take their car back from Barra to Banjul. Other than that, they had a wonderful time. I will have to plan such a visit while I am here.

Today was my first day (proper) at work. I was out of bed early again (it is hard NOT to get up early when the sun is coming through the windows without any curtains at 7:00 every morning) and I was off to the Bitiko for some bread and soft drinks for breakfast.

It was nice to have Glynn drive me into the city. He dropped Sue off at Westfield (she works in the south in Brikama) and we headed north into Banjul. The Banjul road is very good and was not that busy today because of the impending “Tabaski” holiday when people are out visiting relatives. We passed through the police check-point at the bridge leading into the city only just slowing down a bit.

Glynn works just north of where I work though I have to walk around a series of buildings to get to where I am, about 10 minutes away. The presidential palace is in between his and my workplace. I walked down the street feeling a bit out of place with my white shirt and tie (tie will ONLY be for the first day I have assured everyone) as I walked by people selling things on the pavement (sidewalk) as well as the occasional begger. There is rubish everywhere in this town and all the buildings are slowly decaying from what I am sure their once reasonable splendor.

I walked past the Quadrangle to the west (ish) of the 22nd of July park and around the north part of the park past the presidential palace (with the grim-faced guards) and then into the compound of my workplace. It was not too difficult to find my office as I took the set of wooden stairs up to the first (second) floor and knocked on the first door I came to and introduced myself. The old colonial office complex consists of two long buildings separated into small offices with an added “warehouse” area in the middle attached the buildings on the left. Only a small portion of the complex actually has a second floor.

I was shown to my desk which is actually the desk that the “server” sits (computer talk for central computer storing commonly accessed information and providing access to things such as the Internet and printers). There was a computer on my desk but I was told it would be going away to be used by someone else (sigh).

As I was introduced to various people I have been drawing a bit of a map in the faint hope that it will help me to remember their names and what they do. I have trouble with English names, never mind Gambian…

I started right in on a few things, advising them about some computer stuff that had stopped working (the Internet connection was not working because of the power surges they have been having recently in the city and area – evidently due to the new power station that the government has recently put on-line). My desk is against the wall and my window overlooks the roundabout in front of the market so is VERY noisy but I am assured that you get used to the noise. Because Tobaski is coming up it is even noisier than normal with Rams and what-not being sold in great number (never mind the sellers being very anxious to make money). The windows are glass slats that can be angled in to let in/keep out the wind though they have great big air-conditioning units above some of the windows that pour out the cold – though it has to struggle with the holes in some of the panes of glass.

View from Office Window

The people in the office are all very friendly and we talked a bit about what was going on and who we all were.

Margaret, who is a former volunteer with the Peace Corps (US aid agency) but now working on contract to the Department of State for Health, introduced me to everyone and took me back to the Quadrangle which I had passed on my way to work to see the offices of the ministry. The Quadrangle is a series of four buildings arranged in a rectangle (hence the name) that houses the offices of the various departments of states. We went to the first (second) floor and I was shown the offices of the ministers but could not be introduced to many of them because they have left to go to Mecca (the “Haag”) though I saw their very nicely appointed offices. I was introduced to those few people that were around.

We headed back to the office then we went down the street past the market for lunch at Ali Babas (“King of Chawarma”) – I had suggested to Margaret that it would be good to get something to eat (as well as the opportunity to have a bit of a break).

The rest of my afternoon was spent reading various documents and getting familiar with the facilities available to me. I gave Glynn a call shortly before 4 and then left to meet him at his office for the trip back home. Since he has a Land Rover he often has many people in the back that he gives lifts to. We were a full load when we dropped many of them off at Westfield before returning home.

The previous occupant of my house paid me a visit today and dropped off some curtains that her movers had removed without her being aware of it. I quickly put them up and now have a bit more privacy. She is feeling a bit guilty about some other things that were taken away so she has indicated she will be dropping off some covers for the raw foam of my living room chairs as well as some bedspreads. That should save me a bit of work…The volunteers here are all very generous, passing on largely at no cost household items they have purchased when they leave. I have been told that there is a television and VCR making it's rounds of the volunteer's houses as well…

I found a butcher today which is just down the road. It is run by a nice Lebanese man who sells a number of different frozen items (including whole frozen chicken, various cuts of lamb, etc.). It was also good news as I got a letter from my mother today (Glynn visited the VSO offices and picked up my mail) that had some pictures from our trip to Europe over the Christmas holidays. It was good to hear from her.

Dinner was rice with tomato sauce (with hot peppers) as well as fresh orange juice. The evening was topped off with a bout of…reading.

I have been here for more than five weeks now. The house is really coming along. I still need a curtain for the bedroom and it would be nice to have some carpets for the floor (they look really bad without it – lots of unknown stains…). I have spent a lot of time out meeting other volunteers and doing various things.

Today, I walked with Freida south along the beach from Leybato to the Bijilo Forest Park. She had called me yesterday to see if I was interested. The walk each way was about an hour and a half (and I walked to Leybato as well). We had to cross a stream on the beach on the way – it was high tide so when we crossed the water it was well above our waists (we held our bags above our head so they did not get wet). I had to actually change into my bathing suit before this (using a local fisherman's hut) since I was wearing a long pair of jeans. It was a lot of fun. We passed by the main hotels in the Gambia, the Kairaba and Senegambia where the erosion is quite bad so they have massive sandbags holding back the ocean. It was strange seeing all the tourists living in their own little world, so much apart from what real Gambians live and experience. The tourist's world is so very narrow.

The part was very nice (20 delasis to get in) and we saw a lot of monkeys and birds. We walked all the way around it (about 4 1/2 kilometers we were later told). It was nice actually just chatting away to Freida about her work (she has not actually started teaching her classes yet since they are just coming back from their Tobaski break on Monday. She is getting along fine and getting the hang of buying food in the market in Brikama.

Freida and Local Wildlife in Bijilo (Freida on Left)

It was a lovely day as we walked along the beach. We were hastled a lot by local Gambians selling something or another (we saw a group of children singing on the beach, the headmaster looking for donations for his school – he turned out to be a graduate of the school that Freida works for). It was a bit tiresome after a while, being mistaken for tourists (who have a lot more money than us lowly volunteers) but sometimes it was quite pleasant – we sat for about 15 minutes talking to a few people in their deserted juice bar waiting for them to squeeze the juice (we got the non-tourist price as well!) as someone played a bit of a tune on a drum off to the side. Very pleasant.

Of course, there are some things I forget here, and today was no exception as I ended up with a bad burn on the back of my legs and on my arms. I mistakenly believed that my skin had adapted – oh well. I learn new things every day and am really beginning to relax. It is another gloriously sunny day in the Gambia. Now, about those carpets…

Read about some of my subsequent adventures in the Gambia in my Gambia Journal Postscripts.