Workshops

looking good!

After spending a week or so hairing round on the motorbike getting stuck in the sand, weaving in and out of undergrowth, dodging oxen carts, sheep, goats, being trip wired by runaway donkeys and stopped in my tracks by kamikaze chickens. I had finally completed my baseline assessments of the schools in cluster 4 and Seedy and I realised there was some work to be done with the phonics. So we arranged a Saturday workshop for 45 ECD, grade 1, 2 and 3 teachers in the cluster. We provided breakfast and lunch and everyone dutifully turned up – eventually!
Kate and I had planned it and she came to Kwinella on the back of my bike as hers is tempermental to say the least! It’s about an hours journey on terrible roads. It didn’t start well when I had to pull over having been stung on the thigh by some waspy thing.
However despite this everything went smoothly enough at the workshop. We got the teachers working in small groups to plan and teach their lessons on letter sounds and then spent some time making letter sound flashcards out of rice bags.
It was on the way bag that things got interesting when my motorbike suddenly spluttered to a halt 10 minutes out of Kwinella and we were stranded on the side of the road, no where near shade in the hot sun with empty water bottles. Not a good predicament to be in. Luckily we had just enough phone credit so we called the mechanic who wasn’t that keen on coming all that way on a Saturday. He suggested we clean the spark plug, which we did, but no joy. We were a little bit parched so I walked to the nearest school, Nema, where I found the head teacher, reading a Dickens classic under the mango tree. I asked politely if I could get some water from the local pump, braved the load of wasps around the pump and eventually filled the bottles and was on my way again. I then called upon my super dependable cluster monitor, Seedy, to come and rescue us which of course he did despite being on his way to Tendaba. He cleaned the spark plug again, properly! The motorbike spluttered into action but then died again 100 yards up the road. Again we phoned the mechanic and thankfully he came to rescue us. Seedy had in the meantime discovered that there was a lot of water in my petrol tank and so when the mechanic came he had to empty the fuel tank, drain off all the water and then refill the tank. Alls well that ends well. I have to say the 7o dalasi gin made another appearance that night!

regular at roadside

New boy in Soma

We have an addition to our little Soma clan in the form of Ashley who decided in his wisdom to come out and spend a month of his gap year sampling the delights that Soma has to offer. As we speak he is diligently working on his artistic masterpiece, a rather large map of region 4 which he is painting on the office wall. I have to say it looks quite good so far although I'm not sure how long it is going to take him as he has a teeny paintbrush to fill in all the green for the land as some helpful soul walked off with our big paintbrush. Anyway I will provide photographic evidence of the quality of the work on completion.

Aswell as his artistic services he is offering his maths expertise at the local high school Packalinding, helping out with the grade 9 maths classes. I think he has found this an experience. His key behaviour management strategy when they are not paying attention is to say "Look at me I'm beautiful" He is certainly now the most famous of our group. We can't go anyway in Soma without the cry from some adoring student "Mr Ashley!" or being followed by gaggles of giggling girls. I think he is enjoying this notoriety, practising for his future career as film star!

I think two things have really struck him about living here, the heat and the boredom. He did get a bit of teasing by us for bringing out a flannel shirt and actually wearing it. He soon saw the error of his ways on the short walk to the bituk, when he turned a rather nice shade of scarlet. He dutifully took his place on the cooking rota under the instruction of Kate who has taught him how to make butternut squash risotto, lentil chilli etc and sweet and sour. So he's now all set for uni and planning to impress the ladies with his culinary skill. He soon got into the julbrews! Out of necessity rather than enjoyment I think, as did we all. Luckily he hasn't succumbed to the sachets of fake gin. That's strictly for us 10 monthers. He's read 3 books, won lots of games of scrabble - Cheeky young whippersnapper, thought he was very clever with his 50 bonus points for using all his tiles in one go with "tonsils". He was pushing it though trying to get away with dampenize - I ask you? He's made friends with the local kiddies by feeding them biscuits.

He has become a regular at the local video club to watch the footy, along with Marcus. He joins enthusiastically in our regular conversation "What we will eat when we get home" So all in all he has adapted rather well to life in Soma. It's just a shame he is leaving soon!

Ebrima's Nursery

Ebrima's nursery

We made a visit to the nursery of a student on the Brikama ECD course. Ebrima's nursery is in Jinoi which is a village close to Soma. Close but hidden away behind lots of vegetation so after stopping in various compounds to ask directions a kind lady finally showed us the way and we emerged from the undergrowth to find a small nursery. I have to say that this was probably the most pleasureable experience we have had yet in a school in The Gambia. Ebrima is doing a brilliant job with the children. We arrived at the nursery to find such a lovely environment which makes the best use of the materials he has. There were books he had made himself on the walls, hanging decorations, numbers, rhymes. There were labelled places for all the children, books and toys which were actually being used. He was using a rice bag as his story and circle time mat. We spend a while there reading with the children who were wonderful and who knew a variety of words in English. They knew the colours, the parts of the body, animals. I read them a storybook in Mandinka and they delighted in correcting my pronunciation. We sang some songs, "If you're happy and you know it", "twinkle, twinkle" and others.
In contrast the week before I had been in a nursery school where adult sized chairs were laid out in rows, theatre style and the ABC was written in capital letters on the board and that was about it. It was really great to see in Ebrima a teacher who recognises what an important job he has and in difficult circumstances works incredibly hard to make sure those children have the chance to fulfill their potential while they are with him. Great stuff!

(Once I caught a fish alive)

Just a few Brikama college photos (six little ducks went swimming one day)

I have returned to Soma to discover that I have actually developed quite a fondness for the place. I'm pleased to get back to the peaceful, easygoing, sedentary kind of life after the hecticness of Brikama. There have been some minor changes in life here. The compound has become very verdant. Groundnuts are growing in abundance and tall green weeds line the path to the tap. It seems a bit strange that in such a short while it will become dry and barren again. Adding to this I have a new neighbour in the form of new VSO Marcus who, being very technically minded is great to have around, as he deals with all things electrical and computer related. Kate is also happy because she has two people to send off to the market for her cooking ingredients and to get cashpower. She has however declared an edict that I have to cook one night a week for everybody and one night a week for myself. She says so that she won’t have to worry that I will waste away to nothing when she goes home.

The stars have been great lately and we have spent many a happy hour on our verranda star gazing or watching the various lightning flashes in the distance. We have seen quite a number of shooting stars and the milky way.

We have fallen very quickly back into the same old patterns of behaviour. My daily trip to the bituk for a coke and half a tapalapa, mayonnaise and maggi has resumed. Although I have forgotten most of the Fula Fatoumata taught me. Kate still has a love/hate relationship, well more of a hate/hate relationship with her bike. First day back and she had to ride pillion with me because she refused to put petrol in it. Since then it has been nothing but temperamental and has had 2 flat tyres!

For me it was time to get serious with the motorbiking. No more of these namby pamby journeys 20 minutes down a paved highway with regular signposting. It was time for hardcore terrain, potholes, hills, scree, puddles, having to navigate by mango trees and distinctive fencing. Of course this wasn’t really the reason why I found myself on the way to Kwinella. It was for the serious purpose of meeting the head teachers in the cluster to discuss the phonics programme.
Cluster monitor Seedy was ably leading me on the South road from Soma carefully guiding me round potholes and showing me the best part of the road on which to ride. First stop Jiroff, then Nema abc nursery, Nema community health centre, Nema Lower basic (where we had the first of the foodbowls, tilapia fish, rice and sauce) and several glasses of attiya. Then lastly to another foodbowl and of course more attiya at Kwinella lower basic. It had been a good day and well fed I started off on the hour’s journey back. This time alone. But alas grey clouds were lurking in the distance and it was a race against time, would I beat the approaching storm. No chance! It was to be a lesson in being prepared.
Suddenly I was under the cloud, the temperature dropped markedly, then came the winds whipping up ribbons of sand into my eyes (of course no visor) and battering against the side of the bike shunting me sideways. Next the stinging rain and the lightning. I was all the time trying to weigh up my options. Since the option of phoning my mum and Dad to come and get me wasn’t really viable I was considering the following. Do I carry on and just pray I reach Soma in one piece? Do I stop and seek shelter with the people of the villages? Do I stop and phone Kate and cry? So I continued leathering it over pot holes and through puddles and mud with my eyes closed hanging on to the handlebars for grim death. It was reminiscent of the gele journey from hell that feeling of tremendous relief at reaching Kaira Konko scout lodge at the edge of Soma still in tact.
I stumbled through the gates of the compound, something like the creature from the blue lagoon greeted by some very worried faces. It ended as motorbike adventures invariably do. Glass of 70 dalasi gin thrust in my hand and all is right with the world.

Brikama

Brikama is a bustling place. During the rains many of the streets are underwater. If you go into the market after the rains you will find yourself ankle deep in muddy water in many of the narrow passages, trying to find your footing and not end up on flat on your back. At the same time you are trying to avoid men with wheelbarrows and the general human and animal traffic. Flies swarm all around the fruit and vegetables but after being in Soma you are just so happy to see a healthy looking carrot that you don’t care how many flies have landed on it. Brikama market has most things that you could want to buy. Rachel discovered lovely homemade biscuits and in the mini market she also made a great find - powdered chocolate milk – just add water. I even have it on my weetabix in the morning. The market can be an interesting experience , not always a pleasurable one, but mostly if you try to speak a little local language you get a good response. Although people do seem to be a bit dismayed if you don’t know all three of the main languages - Wolof, Mandinka and Fula.

Today we went into one of the clothing stalls because Rachel was looking for a gift for someone. So as I was waiting I used up my stock Mandinka phrases on the rather large lady who was sitting on a low bench inside. As Rachel was choosing what she wanted the lady gestured for me to come and sit beside her and was trying (I think) to tell me that she wanted to come to England or that someone she knew had gone to England. Then she turned and glanced and my arm and spotted my moles. She pointed to them on my arm and said sympathetically (mas, mas, mas) which translates ( sorry, sorry, sorry). In vain I tried to explained to her that I had had them from birth and that they weren’t the symptoms of some hideous plague. This isn’t the first time my moles have been a subject of concern. The Gambians seem to be fascinated by them. Arabiatou in our compound in Soma, often starts counting them. “Aminata – look at this” and Bunja our caretaker at work once noticed them and said “bites, bites”. Again I tried to explain that I had always had them and again he looked at me with great sympathy “ mas, mas” .

The compound in Brikama is very friendly. We get our fair share of visitors knocking on the door to pass the time of day. Touray, the caretaker in the compound also runs a school nearby and fosters a young lad about 19 called Jaygen. Touray is an extremely nice man, who is always at hand if you need help. He always tends to come past when I am fighting with the lock on my door. He rescues me, usually managing to do it first time. Teenagers EJ and Ebie are also regular visitors. They are good friends but extremely different in character. EJ is the sensible one. He came to my door the other day, shook my hand and said sternly. “Lucy why you walk to school. I saw you walk to school. Why you not take Amy’s bike.” So I pointed to the bike and its flat tyre. He looked at me in exasperation and started wheeling the bike out the door. “I’ll take it and put some air in it” So off he went. He came back about 10 minutes later, absolutely soaked as it had started to rain, with the tyre still flat. “The tyre must need changing. I’ll come in the morning and take it.” So there he was 8.30am outside my door ready to take the bike and brought it back fixed. “Now you no walk to school Lucy”

Ebie on the other hand is a bit like the lad about town, roaming about from one compound to another. He drops in occasionally to regale us with various tall tales. Or to recount in scary detail one after another episodes from Tom and Jerry. “I like this programme, this is very funny.” Or to show us his latest dance moves.

Sometimes the really tiny kids from the neighbourhood come peering under the curtain on the front door and shout “toubab, toubab” until they get bored.

Kids also come and set their homemade rat traps in the grounds. They are quite good contraptions made out of old tomato paste tins. (See the photo). Apparently whose ever trap it is if they catch a rat they get to take it home and roast it at their compound and then everyone shares it. I can’t say that’s a custom I will be joining in with.

Anne, who is leaving to go back to Canada this week has been working at the college for five years. On Saturday she organised an excursion for the kids that she has got to know over her five years. She hired a gelly and took them to the beach at Sanyang for the day. The only trouble was when the morning arrived, the word had obviously spread and the world and his wife turned up at the compound asking if they could come. Half of them Anne had never seen before. But she did finally get all her group together and they all trooped off down the street to meet the gelly and apparently had a very good day out and all returned in one piece.

The work at the college is exacting to say the least. I have 24 hours of lectures a week. It may not seem much but at the end of the day I feel pretty wrung out. The students are mostly very nice and respectful. I do get called Madame quite a lot which makes me feel like some old spinster but I guess that’s what I really am in Gambian society. Some students have decided they will call me Aminata Lucy. I see 180 students a week so its not surprising I can’t remember all of their names but I think I am doing quite well with the names considering. Motivation can be a bit of a challenge but considering the workload they have and the fact that a lot of them have families they have to take care of when they get home, they do quite well really. A lot of the mothers bring their babies to class, strapping them to their backs or breastfeeding them while at the same time taking notes. Sometimes I get to have a hold in the pretence of allowing the mothers to get on with their work. In one of my classes there is a baby that can only be a few weeks old. He lies there quite happily in his basket. Wearing my Gambian outfit today got me lots of brownie points with the students. Friday is dress up day in the Gambia. I decided I would get with the culture and wear my Gambian two piece. I hadn’t anticipated how difficult these wrap skirts are to walk in especially when you have a European striding pace. Wrap skirts really aren’t made for striding, more waddling (if you are me that is). Gambian women seem to walk perfectly elegantly. Then the wind kept blowing the skirt apart so I kept trying to yank it down to protect my modesty. I must have looked a sight walking to work this morning. I did get a lot of attention though! The students kept popping their heads round the door of the lecture rooms “ Amie, you look so beautiful in African dress” I’ve never had such attention. One of them said to me “I hope you are going to wear it when you go back to England. At that moment I had a mental image of myself walking through the main street of Newport in my full Gambian dress. I’m not sure Newport is ready for it!
One thing I can say about the Gambians is that they really know how to liven up a rhyme. Heads, shoulders, knees and toes has got a much needed African revamp, the hokey cokey too has received some Gambian glitz.
I do like the atmosphere at the college. I have my regular peanut lady who shouts “kilijano” (that’s a compliment. It means you’re a regular) whenever she sees me because I buy so many peanuts from her. The students bring baobab ices to college to sell. 2 dalasi for one of those. They are really refreshing. My latest find is mini fish pies – 5 dalasi for a bag from another of my students.

It’s great when you walk into a classroom and they start singing one of the songs you have taught them or you just walk round the quad and they start singing at you. It’s a good feeling. Although I do feel a bit like I’m floundering around in the dark with little idea if what I am teaching them is going to be at all useful, when in some cases they have to go back to classes of fifty odd children with little resources. Songs and rhymes at least I think are the way to go. You can always do those with a large number of children. It’s also what I get the best response from the students with . They are just fanatical about writing all the words down to each song you do with them.

We have left Soma for the summer. Kate has gone home for a month and I am in Brikama at Gambia College which is the teacher training college. I am helping out with Early Childhood Development lectures for 8 weeks and had my first week of lectures this week. The students are unqualfied nursery teachers from all over the Gambia who come to do the ECD certificate during the summer and then go back to their schools. Yesterday I had 6 hours of lectures and its quite hard work in the heat. Especially since you are prancing about singing songs and playing games and you don't have many breaks to drink water so its exhausting but very enjoyable. The students are very friendly and welcoming. Trying to remember all their names is quite difficult though.

Some of the vso's - Amy, Emily and Emma left for home this week. There was a leaving party at Courtney's house which was really good fun. It was a wigs and hairdo party but kate and I failed miserably at the fancy dress I'm afraid. Gambian cocktails - Wonjo and vodka and baobab and brandy and of course plenty of julbrew, more singing and drumming of course. Emma helped me to discover the black and white and sepia option on my camera so I went a bit mad with it. Photos to follow.

The photos at the top are In the compound in Brikama where Rach and Emma had a tye dye lesson from Genaba. I just watched the process and took the photos.

I did have quite an amusing experience in Brikama in my first week. It rains a lot in Brikama and when it does rain the streets are under water. I was making my way home from the college to the compound and my sense of direction failed me. I ended up wading down the street being directed by an old Gambian lady, (who spotted the hapless toubab), as to which part of the river was the best to wade through. Some people sitting at a nearby bitiko and the guys from the garage all decided to get involved, pointing out the way to go and shouting to me. Then while wading my way down another street was spotted by some children who proceeded to make stepping stones across the street for me. It caused quite a stir. They all seemed to think it was quite amusing! xxx L

The journey of the bamboo bed

I jumped at the chance to inherit Emma’s bamboo bed as you can only get them from a few places and they are great to have for visitors. But there were going to be some logistical barriers involved in me actually getting the bed to Soma from its home in Kerewan. Emma and Carol very kindly agreed to bring the bed to Farafenni on the top of a gelle. Which left me and Kate to transport it from Farafenni town to the ferry port then over on the ferry and then from the ferry port to Soma. We braced ourselves for a day full of challenges. We were envisioning having to negotiate ridiculous prices, maybe having to hitch a lift on a lorry, and with the very real possibility of rain adding complications. We made a pact that whatever came up we were just going to go with it.
But for once, everything went remarkably smoothly. Not very interesting I know! First stroke of luck was Carol and Emma had managed to get a lift with the bed to Farafenni from Emma’s landlord. We stored the bed in Eddie’s hotel while we had a look around Farafenni. After having chicken and chips and a julbrew or two we embarked upon the journey home. We first managed to get a big taxi with a kind of roof rack and then got off at the ferry and carried the bed over much to everyone’s amusement. We did get some help from a random Gambian man who announced that he was happy to help on the account that the bed was a locally made product. At the other end there was a man with a wheelbarrow ready and waiting and then we watched skeptically as a taxi driver crammed it into his boot and tied it on. I had indeed cost me quite a lot in taxi fare but the process couldn’t have been smoother. It makes a change. The last time we went through farafenni it was only ourselves we were transporting and we caused a fist fight amongst the taxi drivers and then had to wait hours and hours to get a bus to Janjanbureh so we don't really have a great history with travel.

random pictures

This is what you look like after a gele journey upcountry.

pre karaoke meal

watching England vs USA at the high commisson

Karaoke queens and one king

After having a nice meal at a Chinese restaurant and blowing our volunteer allowance on a bottle of wine of two between us we decided that we were all in the mood for karaoke. That is me and Kate, of course, and Mariella and Max. We headed to Churchills. It was all quite drunken as you can probably tell from the photos xx

The first rains came on Monday night. I don’t think I was really prepared for this event. I was just like oh its going to rain soon. That’ll be good. It might cool down. This was an all out storm, sheet lightning like you wouldn’t believe, thunder crashing and the rain thundering down on the tin roof. There was so much rain I had visions of my pit latrine filling with water and overflowing. I lay there for a while worrying about it and finallyI had to venture outside into the chaos. It took all of two seconds to cover my pit latrine but it was like someone had chucked a bucket of water over me. Then all of a sudden it was freezing cold. This is something I have never felt in Soma so I sort of had to make the most of it and I lay there shivering. Between feeling like the world was crashing down on me and the planks of wood from my bed sticking in my back (its the most uncomfortable bed ever) not much sleep was had that night.
We were going to a school up the highway that morning. We edged our motorbikes out of the compound gate and were greeted by several swimming pool sized puddles. Could be an interesting ride… and it was! I nearly came of twice in the mud. Its tricky working out whether to go around the puddles or straight through them and as decisiveness has never really been a trait I was blessed with, I usually end up making the decision right at the last minute and coming a cropper. Aswell as negotiating the mud - the goats, donkeys and pedestrians were out in full force that morning. Usually you beep at the goats well in advance to warn them you are coming and they just stand in the middle of the road staring right at you and then when you get really close they can’t make up their minds which way to go! Its not easy.
The ride up the highway is really enjoyable though. There is hardly any traffic, the breeze is cool and you are right in the countryside with donkey cards going past carrying wood and oxen wandering by the side of the road or across the road. You turn off the highway into a sandy track with typical African round huts and you get to the school. It's just two concrete buildings, the yard is sandy with a huge mango tree for shade. It’s a lovely setting. When we were on our way back from the school there was a troop of about 50 baboons just sitting there at the side of the road. There was one mother with her little baby clinging to her stomach. It was really cool!

(People seem to be endlessly fascinated with the length of my toes.)

(The good life! Drinking beer in the Kombos.)

(The lone figure sat by our broken down gele is me! This is when the driver was on his petrol hunt.)

(The girls doing yoga on our verranda.)

The travel chaos continues… I have to tell you about the gele journey from hell. Never I hope to be repeated. We decided that we had to return to Soma having spend a highly indulgent week in the Kombos. It wasn’t a great start to the journey when we got to Brikama and ended up paying over the odds for our bags as we came up against some tough gele operators. The journey went decidedly down hill from there though…About half an hour into the journey the gele came to a grinding halt when the gears got stuck and the driver spent 10 minutes trying to yank the thing into gear. This may have been our sign to leave the gele behind us and go back to Brikama but we chose to keep an optimistic outlook. About an hour into the journey we had just left the tarmac road and hit the bumpety bumpety road when the back window fell out of the gele and we had to turn around and rattle back to fetch it. So we proceeded windowless. So two hours into our journey the gele suddenly grinds to a halt again. It soon became clear that the driver in his wisdom had decided that 10 litres of petrol was sufficient to get us to Soma and had, of course, run out of petrol. So we sat on the side of the road for 4 hours while the driver hitched a lift first one way and came back empty handed, then he hitched a lift in the opposite direction and was gone hours. It did crack us up that the apparantee guy, after asking us for our “”nice names”, ( the usual spiel) turned around to look at the gele and announced proudly. “This is my car!” At which point we looked at each other. I wouldn’t be using that as a chat up line if I were you mate!
A headteacher from one of the schools in Soma happened to be traveling on the same gele so thankfully he was able to tell us something about what was happening. Somebody had a big bag of mangoes so we were handed several of these which was good because we didn’t have any food with us and not much water either. It’s a very nice thing about the Gambian people. They will always share with you what they have. I think sometimes the sense of humour diverges. As we were standing out on the road, one of the guys said to me “ Give me your phone!” I looked at him slightly baffled and asked the head teacher. “Why is he saying that?” and he just laughed. “He wants you to give him your phone.” So I gave him my best frown “ I’m not giving you my phone. If I gave it to you I wouldn’t have a phone anymore”. I’m sure he meant it as a kind of joke but I was failing to see the funny side at this point.
After four long hours the driver returned, thankfully with a can of petrol, and put it in. So we all climbed back into the gele and held our breath as the ignition coughed and coughed. Nothing! So then all the guys get out and start pushing the gele. It started reluctantly and then they all ran and one by one jumped into the gele. It reminded me of the film Little Miss Sunshine. We were on our way.
Of course the story doesn’t end there. Oh no. By this time it is getting dark. Every police check point we have to stop at, the gele stalls, won’t start again and the driver removes the bulky cover and starts pumping the gears. If that doesn’t work, again the men have to get out and push. Practically every time we stop at a police check the driver gets into trouble because his back lights don’t work and he spends 10 minutes fiddling with them to get them to come on. Every time we hit a hill the gears give up and as the gele chugs to the top I am silently praying its not going to give up and starting rolling back down the hill.
As you can imagine this is the longest journey ever and Kate and I have no idea how close we are to Soma. I am beginning to imagine all sorts of scenarios and wish that I had watched more Ray Mears to enable me to survive a night in the African Bush. To top it all, the driver is hurtling down these potholed roads which he can’t really see properly, at a tremendous speed when he loses control of the gele and almost turns us over. Kate is swearing loudly and the other people shouting at the driver in various languages. I’m just gritting my teeth in silent terror. When this happened thankfully we were only about 15 minutes from Soma (although we didn’t know that at the time.) Finally I spotted the painted wall of the Kaira Konko scout lodge and knew that we were home. At least if the gele broke down now we would be able to walk the last kilometre. 10 hours from the time we left Brikama the gele chugs into the gele park and we stumble out of it, grab our bags and dazed and traumatized, stumble up our long road in the darkness not really having the energy to speak. Of course I like the adventure of traveling and the odd quirky event that adds colour. But give me national express anyday!

(oh and I discovered later my ipod had been stolen. Really great day!)

Anyway we're over it now. Have been going out this week to some schools, on my own on the motorbike! (That's a bit brave of me) to do some jolly phonics training, team teaching and model lessons. So I'm glad to be doing something constructive. The rains haven't started yet so the humidity is horrible. We found a new way to entertain ourselves, doing yoga on our verranda and the kids came and joined in which was nice.

Arabiatou who lives in our compound

Cathy, Mariella, Kate and Sukey having a cleavage competition

kate and I before we got too drunk!

Me and Moses Okello, Ugandan disability volunteer

Kate, me, Rico, Marielle, Georgia and Cathy

So health and safety and traveling in the Gambia. Two words that don’t really fit in the same sentence. As one volunteer who travelled in a gelle gelle without any breaks will tell you. Its how many men, women, children and chickens can we cram into a vehicle to make as much fare as possible. Its undeniably stressful at the time but it does give you some good stories to tell and you experience some random acts of kindness that balance out the baser displays of the human character you inevitably encounter. I think that you have to approach the experience of traveling here with a que sera attitude. You will usually get where you wanted to go but maybe just not the way you expected.
So this week with that in mind we made our first trip to the Kombos, armed with a long shopping list and an equally long list of fun things to do we headed back to civilization.
Our chosen method of transport was the big green bus, yes its large and yes its green, lime green to be exact. Except it’s a bit of a mystery, the big, green bus. Sometimes it appears sometimes it doesn’t. I’m not sure how a thing that big and that green can get lost but there you go.
Gladly it was there when we arrived at the gelle park at six thirty in the morning. It was almost full then though and we only just managed to get a seat. Then began the mammoth seat shuffle as all the locals rearrange themselves to accommodate others, children squashed in whereever they can fit. Then more people get on and stand and sit in the aisles for the entire three hour bumpy journey. However it was a bit of luck to get the green bus to drop us right outside La Parisienne where we slumped into the sofas and relished our cake and coffee.
While we were in Kombos going from one place to another we had a slightly more frantic travel experience, getting on a gelle gelle, the apparantee guy agreed 5 dalasi. Then came the whole, nice ladies where are you from, can I have your number spiel. He even tried one which Kate and I thought was slightly odd, You have nice noses! What's that all about. Kate and I discussing it later agreed that our noses weren't really our best feature! Anyway then when we weren't too welcoming of his advances he tried to charge us more money and stop us getting out of the gelle and then proceeded to chase us down the street demanding his extra money. So we just legged it, which proved rather difficult with ten tonne of luggage on our backs, refusing to pay him. We laughed about it later. But it was far from funny at the time.

However then there was the return journey. This time we didn't manage to pick up the green bus. Instead we ended up in the gelle park where we were fair game for the gelle merchants. We did end up on one bound for Soma after Kate haggling for the price of our bags. I tend to leave it to her as she knows its not one of my strengths. It has to be one of the most uncomfortable journeys of my life. I can't quite describe the sitting position I was forced into. My knees jammed under the seat and my feet jammed in a contorted position behind. I had all this stuff on my lap, a rolled up map of the world, (random I know), a sandwich and two bags of water. (they sell it in bags here). The stuff all kept slipping off my lap because my knees were sloping. The yound guy next to me recognising my plight reached over and took all the stuff off my lap and put it on his on top of his bag and he held it all the way to Soma. Those kinds of experiences restore your faith in human nature.

So we ended up safely back in Soma, covered in a thick film of orange dust, dirty smears on our faces where the dust had mingled with the sweat. We lugged our bags up our very long road and were very glad to be home and even more glad that we had brought back with us a bottle of 70 dalasi ginn!


Happy Birthday your majesty

So I decided to bury my republican sensibilities and graciously accept the invitation to celebrate her majesty’s birthday. Yes there was a free bar! We all got dolled up at the pink palace of heavenly pleasure (we renamed Mariella's house!) most of us wearing Rachel's Gambian tailored dresses and were highly excited at the thought of free drink and food. We spent most of the night exclaiming - its real baileys! its real ginn! and the night sort of went on like that really. We finally left the party at twelve thirty. Everyone else had gone home and we had just about drunk the bar dry. There was definitely no baileys left anyway. Fun was had by all and there are plenty of pictures to prove it.