Gambian Experience – Journal no. 6
16th September to 28th October 2009
Saga of the Aid shipment
Clearly
it's been a while since last I wrote to you, all is fine by the way. I'm
currently composing this E-mail sitting in a lodge along the Gambian River, 200
miles inland and close to the town of Georgetown; or as its currently referred
to Janjanbureh. A little bit more about that later.
In
some respects not much has changed since when last I wrote. I'm waiting for the
charitable cargo of clothes, etc., to clear customs, although there have been
complications identifying the precise arrival date and satisfying the port
authorities with the appropriate paperwork. Deanne, based in the UK, and I are
still seemingly getting the run-a-round from ‘Inter Cargo’, the UK shipping
agent.
Banjul
Customs insist on sight of a, ‘Bill of Laden’, a document providing proof of
ownership, an inventory of items exported and the cargo ship used, Inter Cargo
on the other hand are saying that it isn’t necessary and will not compromise.
We’re in the middle unable to move forward until we comply with the Port
Official requirements.
My
ultimate concern, however, is that it when the goods finally reach here they
may be subject to an additional hidden tax despite being unofficial charitable
item’s. It’s then just a question of how much, the African way!
Exploring the area
Exploring the area
Not much happened from the 16th September to the 17th October, spending all of that time residing at the ‘Sun Bird Lodge’ in Fajara. As I say it's a nice place run by Alan (son) and June (mother), close to the beach, bank, shops and restaurants.
Having thoroughly explored the area on foot, from Fajara to the outskirts of Banjul via Cape Point (about three hours each way), from Fajara to Tanji (three and half hours each way) and Serukunda market many times (about an hour and a half each way) I think I know my way round now.
Serukunda market
Serukunda
market is well worth a visit. The place is addictive, its huge, colourful,
vibrant, noisy, full of the aromas of Africa, dirty, it's busy 7 days a week, typically
African and it's amazing what you can find there.
From repairing a mobile phone,
to an massive array of clothes, household items, electrical appliances, flat
screen T.V.'s, cloth, shoes, food, music, etc., and all so cheap, most made in
China.
Kotu, Kololi and Senegambia
Over
the last few weeks I've eaten in most of the restaurants in Fajara, Kanifeng,
Kotu, Kololi and Senegambia, so if you are visiting the area let me know I'm
happy to provide advice, no charge!!!
A point of interest, a straight line shared taxi from say Fajara to Senegambia, 4 miles, five Dalasi or ten pence!!!
A point of interest, a straight line shared taxi from say Fajara to Senegambia, 4 miles, five Dalasi or ten pence!!!
Not much Africa in Africa
The
only thing lacking, for me, in The Gambia, is a sense of Africa. Don't get me
wrong, a lot of the bars, clubs and restaurants provide local traditional food
or an African theme, however, tainted or even dominated by Westernization. Most
of the principle establishments are owned or run by the Dutch, English, Scottish,
Indian, German or Lebanese and make only a feeble attempt to embrace the varied
and rich African heritage.
Colonialism rife in some parts of Gambia
There
is a prevailing sense of colonialism that dominates the tourist area. People, largely from the West, having opened
business’s seem quick to adopt a mentality of, "me boss you the down
trodden worker".
I’ve
befriended many local Gambians, Senegalese and an English couple, Roy and
Fiona, during my stay here so I’ve managed to fit-in and avoid the tourist
enclave to degree.
Roy
and Fiona, a married couple disillusioned by the UK, decided to take a chance
and settle a few months ago here in the Gambia, only after many trial trips,
renting a house for a nominal amount. Fiona suffers from arthritis and the warm
climate is conducive to her condition, allowing her greater mobility. Roy an
ex-postman has a great interest in moths and there are a huge number of specie
here both known and unknown. He writes and contributes to one of the principle
authorities on the subject in London.
| Fatou and I in Senegambia |
| Roy and Fiona |
As
a sideline they purchased a couple of old Mercedes cars in Germany and had them
shipped here to uses as taxi’s in the hope that the revenue would generate
enough income to live on whilst they sold their UK home.
It
materializes that Fiona has now been appointed Head Mistress of the small
infant/junior school just outside Serukunda. She has no formal qualifications
or experience in teaching; however, the schools English sponsors feel their
contributions would be better administered by Fiona rather than the previous
corrupt Head Master who was, supposedly, pocketing most of the donations.
Anyway,
I spent several days helping out at the school painting furniture, etc., which proved
great fun. It was nice to be involved in something constructive for a change.
‘Wild Monkey bar & restaurant’
Most
nights are spent at a place called the 'Wild Monkey' bar and restaurant in the
seedy and busy Senegambia strip. A local African dance and drum troupe called,
‘Casa Miella’, perform more often than not and as I’m such a regular visitor I've
become their adopted manager.
The group comprises a dozen or so guys that operate in rotation, generally with no more than six at a time playing a variety of instruments. Supported by seven to eight male and female African dancers.
The group comprises a dozen or so guys that operate in rotation, generally with no more than six at a time playing a variety of instruments. Supported by seven to eight male and female African dancers.
The
performance is an authentic interpretation of traditional tribal dancing. Invariable frenetic, extravagant in it’s
delivery and very base in its intention, great fun nonetheless.
The
group came together just a few months ago formed primarily round a group of
guys that sell and play drums in the nearby Craft Market. It’s good to see some
locals with a sense of pride in their past.
African drums
Three
drum types are used, known as a Djembe (Treble or Alto in key), Doum-Doum or
Kekeni (Mid range or Tenor) and Doum-Doum or Sangbar (Bass). A Shekere or rattle
controls the beat or timing; it’s basically a gourd covered with a net of
beads. The drums are hand carved and hollowed from bala, ligue, douke, melna or
African mahogany with the open end covered with a stretched goatskin.
Invariable adorned with colour, beading or carving to donate the tribe or
origin.
The drum is said to have three souls, one from the wood of the tree, the second from the goatskin of the animal the third from the maker.
The drum is said to have three souls, one from the wood of the tree, the second from the goatskin of the animal the third from the maker.
Trip to Kartong
A
few weeks ago I spent the weekend at a place called the Boboi Beach Lodge, just
outside Kartong. It’s along the coast, isolated from the village itself and
about 30 kilometers South of Senegambia. Set in secluded woodland, access is
along a narrow track. The circular huts are of a traditional design with a
pitched reed roof over and small shower off. They cater for campers as well or
you can sleep in a tree house if you’re more adventurous.
My
friends Tamsir and Fatou, Tamsir’s friend the taxi driver and I made our way
along the coast to the resort, stopping along the way for various security
checks, common place here.
On
one occasion a particular over zealous policemen pulled us over, I suspect seeing
a white guy on board, and lambasted the driver for a broken headlamp, much to
the embarrassment of the accompanying armed soldier who walked out of the hut
and checkpoint.
Its
normal practice for corrupt officials to try to extract money from travellers
here, so I’d already understood what was occurring. At one point, only Tamsir
and the policemen were left inside, I think Tamsir was doing his best to
placate the official.
So
there we are Fatou and I leaning against the car, the soldier perched against
the side of the hut with a wry smile on his face and the taxi driver half
sitting on the policemen’s shiny chrome motorbike, all listening to the heated
debate inside the building. Next moment the bike topples to the floor, to the
amusement of both the soldier and I perhaps appreciating the irony, and the
horror of the taxi driver who gingerly picked the bike back up, desperately
hoping that there wasn’t any damage, which there wasn’t. Almost on cue the door
to the hut opened and the policemen stomped out, oblivious of events that had
unfolded outside. Tamsir asked me for 100 Dalasi, which I provide indicating if
he asked for more money then I wanted an official receipt from the policemen;
standard practice to avoid paying excessive amounts to corrupt officials.
Djellaba open-air concert
Some
weeks ago my friends Tamsir, Omah, Sarah and I drove to Tanji to attend an
open-air concert by Djellaba. A very
well respected Gambian vocal artist who also plays the Kora and performs with a
backing band and his four wives as supporting vocals.
The Kora is a sort of stringed
instrument with a bulbous body and a long neck. Constructed
from a large ‘Calabash’, which is cut in half and then covered by a stretched
cow skin to make a resonator it has a notched bridge like a lute or guitar.
The interesting thing, the women that attend the concert go to great lengths to look their best in their elegantly tailored and figure hugging African dresses.
The interesting thing, the women that attend the concert go to great lengths to look their best in their elegantly tailored and figure hugging African dresses.
The guys on the other hand turn up in jeans, T-shirts and baseball caps. I guess that's why there are such a high percentage of single guys in The Gambia, no finesse.
End of Ramadam
Tamsir invited me to his home on the 21st September to celebrate the end of the thirty days of fasting attributed to the Muslim festival of Ramaadam.
It promised to be a lively affair it didn't turn out that way.
Deanne given the okay
Tamsir invited me to his home on the 21st September to celebrate the end of the thirty days of fasting attributed to the Muslim festival of Ramaadam.
It promised to be a lively affair it didn't turn out that way.
Deanne given the okay
One
bit of good news though Deanne is fit and well and will return to Africa early
November, presumably with the intention of re-visiting the village.
You may recollect that she had to return to the UK on the 24th September, which was a sad day at Banjul airport.
All's well that ends well though.
I'll let
her tell you more about that in her journals.
You may recollect that she had to return to the UK on the 24th September, which was a sad day at Banjul airport.
| D and mutual friend Tamsir |
Trip down the River Gambia
On
the 18th October I made a decision to move down-river to the outskirts of
Georgetown to a place called the 'Bird Safari Camp'; owned by Mark Thompson of
'Hidden Gambia', www.hiddengambia.com.
A
mini-van picked me up at the Sun Bird Lodge, transported me to the
roll-on-roll-off ferry in Banjul that connects with the town of Essau, on the
opposite riverbank.
We then travelled 180km to the point where we would change our mode of transport to a narrow boat for the remaining 20km. The journey itself was punctuated by more security stops than I care to mention sometimes removing all items from the vehicle, part of Jammeh’s, the current president, obsessive insecurity or security!
We then travelled 180km to the point where we would change our mode of transport to a narrow boat for the remaining 20km. The journey itself was punctuated by more security stops than I care to mention sometimes removing all items from the vehicle, part of Jammeh’s, the current president, obsessive insecurity or security!
Gambia
is comparatively flat with a high point of about 200m. The land appears fertile
through obvious signs of past cultivation but abandoned, the draw of easy money
in the city.
The river trip itself meanders along and where uncultivated and
uninhabited banks and islands line the route. Most of Gambia’s population
resides in Serukunda or Banjul.
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| Passing by Chimp Island |
| Our boat down the River Gambia |
| Sights along the river bank |
‘Bird Safari Camp’
The
camp comprises 10 large canvass tents, Iraq post war surplus, with an en-suite
shower, hand basin and W.C. 12 circular lodges with an en-suite, a freshwater
swimming pool, central bar and restaurant all set in secluded woodland on the
banks of the Gambian river. I'm the only guest by the way!!
Like
everywhere that I've stayed at over the last months the place is in the process
of preparation for the forthcoming season, which starts in earnest in November.
The three boats of varying size, the double decker 15 meter Pirogue and two small launches, were being repaired and painted. The tents patched or replaced and the lodges similarly undergoing renovation, upgrading or simple maintenance. The place looked a little unready at present, a bit like a building site.
The three boats of varying size, the double decker 15 meter Pirogue and two small launches, were being repaired and painted. The tents patched or replaced and the lodges similarly undergoing renovation, upgrading or simple maintenance. The place looked a little unready at present, a bit like a building site.
Life in the camp
It's
amusing sitting here watching the African work ethic. They turn up at between
10.00 a.m. and 11.00 a.m., despite Mark providing a boat for the workers to get
from nearby Georgetown to make things easier. The younger women set to work
making breakfast while the older women find themselves a chair along with the
guys and have a tea break (about half an hour or so).
Eventually, they set to the task in hand, often a very slow and misguided process. Around 2.00 p.m. there's a break for lunch, provide by Mark at his expenses, and then prayer. If you’re lucky work may resume at some point in the afternoon. It would seem unlikely that all will finished before the official opening date.
Eventually, they set to the task in hand, often a very slow and misguided process. Around 2.00 p.m. there's a break for lunch, provide by Mark at his expenses, and then prayer. If you’re lucky work may resume at some point in the afternoon. It would seem unlikely that all will finished before the official opening date.
Mark's
a nice guy and has owned the camp for over 12 years. It's clear that he
struggles to make an appreciable profit and you begin to understand why.
The
location is excellent completely hidden away from any other habitation so it's
quiet, very informal, the food is good, there’s an abundance of wildlife and
the countryside and setting are stunning.
Abundance of wildlife
So
far I've seen eight different variety of dragon fly, Egrets, Ibis, Stork,
Heron, Weaver Birds, Fish Eagle, Eagle (unknown), Vulture, two types of
Kingfisher, Parakeet, half a dozen birds that I’m not sure about, Chimpanzee,
Green Vervet monkey, Red Colobus monkey, Baboon, various specie of bat, Monitor
Lizard, Hippo and a huge variety of butterfly.
We’re close to Georgetown, renamed to Janjanbureh by the current President, the same President that has personally found a cure for both Aids and testicular cancer, for both men and women. Yes I said men and women; a senior medical administrator, John, who attended the conference, confirmed the statement. This is from a guy, a former corporal in the Gambian Army with no appreciable education laying claim to some thing that has troubled medical science for years.
We’re close to Georgetown, renamed to Janjanbureh by the current President, the same President that has personally found a cure for both Aids and testicular cancer, for both men and women. Yes I said men and women; a senior medical administrator, John, who attended the conference, confirmed the statement. This is from a guy, a former corporal in the Gambian Army with no appreciable education laying claim to some thing that has troubled medical science for years.
John
works for the Medical Research Council, M.R.C., he's the senior medical administrator
based in Bassa Santa Su. They’re trying to find a long-term cure for Malaria
and sponsored by the UK government. He’s a regular weekend visitor to ‘Bird
Safari Camp’.
Georgetown, renamed
Janjanbureh
Janjanbureh was devised as a
collection and holding point for slaves in the 1800’s awaiting shipment to
James Island, before heading onto to the New World. All of the principle
buildings are circa 1800, although in very poor condition, along with the first
church built this far down the river. Given its strategic position, an Island
commanding two diverging waterways, a sizeable garrison would have been stationed
here.
Today there are an assortment of
smaller traditional dwellings, tracks rather than roads, a limited number of
shops, a roll-on-roll-off ferry serving the opposite bank and a huge range of
residential schools surprisingly enough all hidden in the trees.
Island Jaunt
Saturday - Mark, the camps
owner, John from M.R.C., one of the foremost authorities on butterfly in The
Gambia and his native country Nigeria, a boatman and I all decided to explore
an Island that until now Mark and John had been unable to gain access to.
Just to put you in the picture there are a lot of islands scattered along the Gambian river most of them uninhabited, thickly vegetated and often too difficult to approach from the water. Sometimes, as in this case, due to the Hippo that wallow in the shallows and aggressively territorial, attacking any boat that strays to close.
Anyway we managed to negotiate our way onto the Island, unscathed, clambering up a tree trunk that had fallen into the river still secured by the roots to the bank. Scrambling through the thick vegetation to the interior, all signs of life were from the local indigenous inhabitants, a large troupe of Baboon, none to happy that we had ventured onto their island, bat, birds and insect.
Just to put you in the picture there are a lot of islands scattered along the Gambian river most of them uninhabited, thickly vegetated and often too difficult to approach from the water. Sometimes, as in this case, due to the Hippo that wallow in the shallows and aggressively territorial, attacking any boat that strays to close.
Anyway we managed to negotiate our way onto the Island, unscathed, clambering up a tree trunk that had fallen into the river still secured by the roots to the bank. Scrambling through the thick vegetation to the interior, all signs of life were from the local indigenous inhabitants, a large troupe of Baboon, none to happy that we had ventured onto their island, bat, birds and insect.
Huge tall trees, hundreds of
years old, and thick undergrowth create a perfect habitat.
Failing light, however, determined, that we
needed to leave (to be continued).









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