Oh What a Day! Part 2

After the meat incident I was able to ride uneventfully to Kan. and K. eventually got a car to Basse (read about her adventures on her blog…)

I met up with volunteer Tara in Kan. for our usual bi-weekly visit. We turned the compost and spent the afternoon chatting with the women and preparing cassava leaves for sale at the market the next day.

Our counterpart Lamin asked Tara and me questions about simple things like American race relations, and the job market and economy. (Really, too easy!)

We tried our best to answer, but it can be hard when [according to Lamin] most Gambians: a) Think all white people are rich. Lamin- “90% are rich.” b) Think they all have jobs and it is easy to get a job as long as you are in America. c) Use Europe, the UK, America and Canada interchangeably. d) Call white people toubab to be respectful.

And we (foreigners) don’t usually give them any reason to think otherwise. Gambians abroad send enough money to make their families rich by Gambian standards, and report excellent job prospects. Visitors, aid agencies and NGO’s bring money and often spend it freely. I’m not sure if Lamin believed us when we told him there are poor people in America.

It’s hard to break down stereotypes with words. We can’t show Lamin poor people. How do you explain 300 years of slavery and oppression, civil rights, racism and equality from an American standpoint to a non-American? When we talk about slavery Lamin counters saying Africans had slaves too (and still do in some countries). Yes, but it was different for us… (It’s also hard for us to understand them.) It’s a slow and ongoing process.

Kan. has a lot of activity going on in their village. They are building a nursery school, a community banana plantation and a community women’s garden. I’m teaching them to compost and helping with the other projects with T. The work is challenging, but I think we’re making progress.

On the way back from Kan. I stopped on the roadside for fresh, hot pankettos (delicious fried dough!). The women sits by the road with here wood heated fryer and bucket of dough and fries while you wait. It’s a wonderful thing. I have fallen in love with roadside food. Alone on the highway a monkey ran across the road as I was biking! I rolled down the road to H.K. satisfied with the days work and amused with the morning’s events. But I’m able to take it in stride.

Sort of- a PAW on a platter! Random bush meat! Yikes!

Oh, What A Day, Part 1

Yesterday, Friday the 13th natch, was quite the day living in the Gambia.

K. was visiting (hooray!) and after unsuccessfully trying to get transport to Basse the day before, we headed over to the roadside extra early in the morning.

It was still cool(-ish) when we arrived at the bantaba, but the day promised to be hot as we greeted the other travelers and sat under the mango tree to wait for a car.

Soon we were distracted by a commotion. An argument had broken out between two men. As we watched it quickly escalated to yelling and shouting. Ruben Studdard’s body double (appearing right here in The Gambia!) had to hold back one of the men as he yelled “I know you like to fight! I know you like to fight!”

The men were arguing about work of some kind. I didn’t catch most of it, but soon the whole village had turned out to watch. The two men were yelling and trying to take shots at each other, calling names and screaming.

Finally, the men were restrained, but when it seemed like the fight was over they would start back in again. The alkalo (village leader) tried briefly to intervene, but then sat down to watch the show. (And keep in mind these men are in their 60’s! Not some hot-headed youngsters…)
A bystander made a comment about “The monkey and the dog will never get along. They will always fight.” (Sharing some Mandinka proverb wisdom)

The few cars that passed during this time were full, much to K. and my disappointment.

Soon after the fight ended and the villagers drifted back to work, up the road comes Jamboye. He lives in my compound and is my host brother’s uncle/cousin/relative somehow. Jamboye has this big platter with piles of raw meat. He’s selling it, and there are five equal piles arranged around the plate. (Keep in mind meat in The Gambia refers to almost everything underneath the skin…) One (probably) choice pile included the animals head.
“Jamboye, what is that?” There is a paw in the middle of the platter!
“Is that a dog paw? Is this dog meat?!”
“It is bush meat.”
“Yes, but from what animal?!” But he has already moved on. The mystery meat remains a mystery. Seriously, a paw on a platter! Ostensibly, so you would know what animal the meat came from. It could have been monkey, antelope, dog, or other yet-un-encountered animal.