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kiwi

Sweden
662 Posts

Posted - 30 Mar 2008 :  23:38:12  Show Profile Send kiwi a Private Message
We didn’t arrive in Wassu until about 5 o’clock in the afternoon and it still wasn’t the end of the journey. We had to travel further.
I asked my ex-husband, K if he could possibly take me to Wassu to see the stone circles. Luckily he had someone to see in Janjangbureh. I said lets go there, I´ll sleep over in Janjangbureh while you do your own business. I started before nine in the morning, walked along the path behind the craft market passing the golf course and then up to Atlantic Road. First person I met was a man who acted as a model at my hotel two days earlier. He took off his cap letting his long hair with pearls fall down – now you recognise me? I did. Next one was Isa, my fruit vendor and the mother of “my baby”, now twelve. I also said good morning to a shop owner , now familiar to me – he gave me some sweets. I then walked into K:s house to say hello to her sisters who soon would leave for Senegal.
A quick walk to Kairaba Avenue and a taxi to Westfield. By that time everybody wanted to go to Banjul. In the apparent chaos there was a certain organization, destinations were announced and boys were running to and fro asking and pointing out the car, money was handed over. Eventually we arrived in ferry terminal packed with passengers. I anxiously watched my bags as well as watched K. Two older women told K - she doesn’t understand anything (about the chaotic situation). We all had a good laugh. As if in cue everybody rushed onboard and so did we. I had an excellent view from the upper deck. We were in Barra about half past eleven, and then the searching for the bushtaxi heading for Janjangbureh started. And then the waiting started! Ten minutes to two my ex-husband lost his temper. He started an argument with an other driver. Ten seconds later there was a loud shouting with probably twenty persons involved. Everybody was tired. Our own driver remained mute. As quickly as they started, they stopped. I was quite amused that K expressed his “African temper” , I have never heard him shout before.

Our ride started about twenty past two. After about twenty minutes drive we stopped by our first police and customs check point . Bag bang on the car door. Lady, show your identification please, your passport! Are your resident? I didn’t bring my passport so I handed over my driver’s licence. Where do you stay? I told him. Bang bang. Next time you go out, get you passport with you! I didn’t know about it, I said, I’m sorry. He reverted his eyes on me and then left. I wasn’t asked for money. Later on, on our way back K was as an only passenger asked to produce his id-card. You have to ask the others also, not only me he said. I already know them answered the smiling police officer. He didn’t ask me, a stranger. Only once there was a discussion, the driver had not his licences on the windscreen but in an envelope. Neither was he asked for money.

The road Barra – Janjangbureh, actually July 22nd Highway, is quite new and very comfortable to drive on. There are not much traffic at all meaning motor vehicles but so much more animals! There are donkeys. Goats are now and then crossing the highway on their own or are sometimes herded over. They are easy to make gather speed by using the horn but not the cows! For a cow the car has to change lanes. At one point there were four horses elegantly trotting in front of us on the highway.

In Farafenni we made a major stop for food and drinks. We had rice and chicken cooked by a Nigerian woman, a woman with a beautiful matured face. She peeled and sliced a big potato for me.

Plastic bags with fresh water have to be bought now and then. Naturally the water is not cold and after some minutes journey on the front seat close the engine the water is almost boiling.

We passed Porli Kunda that actually is K:s birth place. I didn’t know about it, I thought it was an other village just straight southwards on the other side of River Gambia. About 20 km or so before Wassu he announced that this was the place for his meeting. I thought you were going to see someone in Janjangbureh??? It had been changed. So why am I travelling to Janjangbureh??? On our arrival in Wassu a tyre had to be changed but is was done so quickly that there was no time to make inquiries about a possible lodge, and I didn’t really want to be left on my own so we continued our travelling. We arrived the ferry at six, K quickly asked a student to take me to a lodge and ran back to his taxi. The student was a former Armitage student and very nice and obviously ambitious. He walked me to Baobolong Camp where I slept over. The camp seemed quiet and peaceful and so it was, but as there were no window glasses all the talking outside was a bit disturbing. In the middle of the nigh I had to go to the bathroom – the light was gone. When it’s dark it is dark!

I left in the morning, walked alongside the street and was greeted by many Good mornings and how are you, not least by the school children as I happened to past a school. At the same moment I put my feet on the ferry it departed.
On the other side I started making inquiries about bus running to Wassu. All they were full. Another student, just leaving his transport pointed out a transport for me. And then the waiting started. The ferry came and left, came and left. By eleven we were ready to go – the car had to be pushed to start - by twelve I was in Wassu. K was not there. To my relief he came only after ten minutes.

We had a walk to the stone circles in the burning sun. The guide who guided us was very good and made an interesting presentation. (He had travelled the same bus as we the day before!) The stones were very impressive.

Our way home started. The first distance was from Wassu to Kau-ur where a new transport had to be found. After leaving Kau-ur the problem started with the bus. The right back wheel made some peculiar noise, could be harmful if something happened. Off the bus, all males gathered around the wheel, something was done but the noise still was there. The car was to be driven in a crawling speed. Would we have to stay for one more night? As if by a miracle the noise vanished and we could speed up and arrived in Farafenni all safe and well. Walking along the main street we looked for food and waved to the Nigerian woman. Still we wanted to go to the next garage as soon as possible to make reservations. Then the waiting started! There was no food, nothing to drink, I had some warm Fanta left. K bide his time under a mango tree, while I anxiously watched my front seat in the hot “box”. The last distance from Farafenni to Barra was an easy ride. The car was comfortable and I was able to stretch out my legs and lean backwards. The cassette player played only two or three reggae tunes, again and again and I didn’t mind, I really enjoyed it. We were probably eight passengers, including a goat who now and then burst out into despairing cries. Did he know about his predetermined fate? Or was he only envious of his comrades freely grazing the grass in the surroundings?

The ferry back by six o’clock was not packed this time. Four passengers filled the taxi going to Bamboo garage. The driver came and told us I am not going to Bamboo! Everybody stepped off. We took a taxi to Westfield instead, then to Kairaba Avenue and walked down towards the beach and into a fine looking restaurant for our first meal of the day, hungry, thirsty, dirty and completely exhausted. Now you have had a great Gambian experience, don’t you K laughed. I am so happy about my trip and would do it again.

kiwi

kiwi

Sweden
662 Posts

Posted - 30 Mar 2008 :  23:56:12  Show Profile Send kiwi a Private Message
My travelling agency claims that it is “unbearable” to travel with local busses and taxis. Nothing could be more wrong. I love the ride on the Serekunda – Banjul Highway as well as I love the bumpy ride from Bamboo to my hotel after which I am both shaken and stirred . Passing and forwarding money. I enjoy the shoutings Westfield! B´rkaama B´rkaama! Bamboo! (O told me that there originally was a bamboo pit and also a discoteque/club. When he was a school boy he and his friends used to hang around the club attacking those coming out. Brother, please give me money for bread! Those who were drunk and had a girlfriend never said no, they could give as much as five dalasis. I could not have guessed that he was such a rascal as a boy.) I haven´t learnt the traffic net yet but I recognise at least some places by now.
The taxi drivers and those who take the fee all looks the same. They are small. They look cool. They never smile. And they know that a white woman always pays for two.

I didn´t really know what to expect of my Gambian trip after so many years. Would everything be changed? I appreciate the development, still I want everything be the same. Like the new road from airport to Kotu with posh buildings on the right side. I missed the old road through Serekunda. Kotu Stream once was a ditch I used to jump over with a little area close to beach to wade across. Ten years ago everything was dried up, there were no water at all. And now, I crossed the stream with a rowing boat. and there were big lakes on both sides of Kotu Bridge.

One thing I knew, being such an old woman now no-one would even look at me. It was “worse” than ever. A single woman is everybody´s target. Outside my hotel they called my name, African Woman! or Now she is coming out! Can´t deny it was quite amusing. The area outside is like a theatre, an open stage - for everybody to listen and watch.
Y is an official guide who kept asking me to come to his office. When I did he was more interested in talking about “having a good time” than leaving serious information. If you don´t come and see me I´ll fall down onto the street, he complained. Then your friends should take you to hospital I said.
B is young and tall,persistent and quite funny. He wants to take me to club Jo or restaurant SH or wherever I want to go. After more than one week I say, Ok let´s have a walk ten o´clock tomorrow. I was one hour late and he was waiting. Just let me go and leave my key, I´ll be back in a minute. I saw him walking and knew he saw me – still he disappeared out of my sight. Five or sex of his friends surrounded me, are you going to see B?
He is there, someone said and pointed to a group of sheds. You must come with us, he said nervously. We went there and standing outside the door I saw him sitting on a bench inside the shed with a peculiar look. I decided to walk away. Please don´t go said his friends. Don´t go, the military has arrested him. You are the only one who can rescue him! Help him!
A bit unwillingly I walked back and asked B what his problem was. I have no problem, he said. I am just having a plate. He wasn´t having a plate, the military man was. I thought you were supposed to guide me I said, and pointed out the direction for my walk. If you want to come, you can come, if not it is ok. After less than five minutes he came running, he was released. I have a license to be here in the evenings. I work for Jo and SH, I get a small commission (10-20 dls) for each guest. I have been here for seven years. It´s not that I really like it but I have nothing else. This is the only job I have and I have to support my family. If I had a proper job I would´n be here. I am also a driver but can´t afford paying the license.
J is a young boy further down the road. He made the usual offers but has a pleasant behaviour, not persistent at all. I told him that I had seen bukki in Abuko, which made him so pleased that he decided that I from now was a Gambian woman bearing the name Kadijatu. Such a beautiful name.
O-r is a young boy working for a beach restaurant. No customer, no salary! He has finished his studies and keeps sending applications but no response. He politely left the table when my soup came and came back when I had finished my meal. I got his mailaddress and postal address to an uncle in State House, and I can´t find it.
O is a dear friend I learnt to know ten years ago. I was invited to his sister´s place for dinner. She then was a shy young woman with a new born baby. No she is a cheerful woman with three girls and a husband, living in Nema Kunku, four taxis away. O is the kindest person I have ever known, but how close do I want to be a person who already makes my bed?
B and I had a walk. B: Why do you keep this gold ring, it is too small for you. Give it to me, I would bear it on my right hand ring finger for the rest of my life! You would sell it before I left, I said. Another day – Where are you going? I am going to say hello to J! Who is J??? Why are you going to see him? he moans trying to sound jealous. We had two Fantas. If you have and old mobile can you give it to me? This one I got from a tourist is no good at all. I had to laugh. You see, it´s all about the money. Can I have your earring? I´ll give mine to you. If he believed it was a diamond ring, he will be disappointed.

I said something about tapalapa. Then there was a tapalapa on my terrace table every morning. And flowers.
O says: president Jammeh has done well when it comes to improving the infrastructure and things like that, but on personal bases, people are afraid. We never know if we are safe. How could he be elected president? People who didn´t want to vote for him, didn´t vote at all because they didn´t dare to. The ballot boxes for the opposition candidates were empty and when you dropped you marble it echoed in the box and everybody could hear that the vote was not for Jammeh. You then could have been followed and caught.

Leaving time. Isa came to see me and looks sad. O continues with his duties and doesn´t talk. K keeps me company. B standing under the mango tree waves his arm. Don´t forget to send my photos! You must register the letter! A hug.

Ripped off at the air port? Not me. On my arrival I was soon targeted by a bearer which suited me perfect. In a couple of minutes we were outside my bus, me wondering where the customs control was. On my way back, the first security officer was a lady who with a big smile and firm look into my eyes at the same time gave me instruction about where to put my documents and wristwatch as she asked “kiwi”- enjoyed your holiday in the Gambia? Going to miss all your friends? Have a safe journey and welcome back! The next one cautiously searched through my cabin bag – he didn´d care for my mangoes and oranges.
(Last time I left Gambia, standing in the middle of the long passport control queue I was picked up by an air terminal police officer, he lead me through and placed me on a chair in the departure hall only to kneel down and begging me to give him my address! Some of my co-passengers made big eyes onboard. Did they believe I was arrested?)


Did you see a woman with tears in her eyes at Banjul International Airport last Monday?
It was me. One more hour in the burning sun on the terrace, with a Julbrew. The flaps open, the engines roar, one last look at the coconut trees in the distance, then off.



kiwi
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lurker



509 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  00:02:40  Show Profile Send lurker a Private Message
you write beautifully. among all the miserable reports on the worse aspects of the gambia, you produce a vignette which inspires hope, reminds me of my warmth for the place, makes my heart jump as i miss the country so much and you invoke a sense of being there which we all recognise as one of love in our hearts. i salute your piece.

Edited by - lurker on 31 Mar 2008 00:03:07
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kiwi

Sweden
662 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  00:14:01  Show Profile Send kiwi a Private Message
Thank you so much, Lurker!

kiwi
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anna



Netherlands
730 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  07:09:12  Show Profile Send anna a Private Message
Me too, Kiwi - i enjoyed your writings immensely. I could see it all happening before my eyes! You made my day, girl!

When an old African dies, it is as if a whole library has burnt down.
Amadou Hampate Ba (Mali)
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kiwi

Sweden
662 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  08:30:20  Show Profile Send kiwi a Private Message
Have another nice day, anna! I am still adjusting myselt back to my normal life which is not easy, but with a lot of smiles smile in my heart.

kiwi

Edited by - kiwi on 31 Mar 2008 08:46:46
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jambo



3300 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  14:42:38  Show Profile Send jambo a Private Message
Kiwi, thank you for your travelogue, it made me smile, you are like me i preserved and got Wassu stones and armitage, I did it with a guid from senegambia area, but we travelled by bush taxi, If do it again, I would travel to Farfenni and change, it is such an eye opener travelling like this. You do have to have faith/money/manners and patience to do these journeys. On the north bank side I love it, so releaxed and I eat well.
As for the bush taxi, yes it takes a strong will to do it, i have done it a few times from my hotel to brikama, via westfield. Each trip tells a story. there is "a Fee to bepaid for everything, i wish it was different but I am use to the geniune cases now" thos at the airport DO NOT NEED MY MONEY, but Bara side I happily give a few dils to those who guide me or help me buy my goods or make my trip oky.

THANKS KIWI. PS THE STONES ARE WORTH ANY EFFORT THAT A JOURNEY TAKES.
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Momodou



Denmark
11828 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  18:34:04  Show Profile Send Momodou a Private Message
Kiwi, thanks for sharing these experiences of your holidays with us. The stone circles in Wassu are on the World Heritage List of UNESCO and are worth visiting when in Gambia.

A clear conscience fears no accusation - proverb from Sierra Leone
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inez



279 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  21:03:54  Show Profile Send inez a Private Message
Kiwi, you almost made me cry, beautiful. Thanks for sharing this.
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kiwi

Sweden
662 Posts

Posted - 31 Mar 2008 :  22:13:00  Show Profile Send kiwi a Private Message
Thanks again, everybody. I got my inspiration to go to Wassu from Momodou´s site.

kiwi
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