The last few days I have been organizing my teaching observations so I just thought I’d write a bit about getting around in the Gambia.
The Gambia doesn’t really have any maps and to be honest they are not the best at giving directions either. The directions usually incorporate a mango tree (which one of the hundreds they are referring to I don’t know) and once I even heard three sleeping policemen used in directions. Anyway to do my observations I have been given a list of names, with or without school names, sometimes with recent phone number sometimes not. In general I have to ring a random number – try to explain what I am doing (it is really hard to hear people over the phone in the Gambia) and ask how to actually get to the school. Then hope like anything that I don’t end up lost in the middle of nowhere.
Obviously I don’t have a car so the joy of doing the observations is the public transport – which is very much like putting your hand (or your life in this case) in a lucky dip. Sometimes they look nice and work well, sometimes they are missing lots of panels but work just fine, sometimes they look nice or look very old and somehow just seem to get you to your destination.
What I really love about the Gellis (bush taxis) are the people. Women get in loaded up with stuff and usually with a baby on their back, hand all their stuff over to complete strangers to position for them – including the baby (which sometimes even gets handed to me!). It is great the way people work together to help each other out and no one is precious about their stuff. Except for things like wallets, phones and MP3 players your stuff is safe.
The other day I caught a gelli and the woman behind me was trying to get her baby to play with me. I did play with the baby, but then the woman asked me to pay her fare (she clearly didn’t need the fare paid for her and was just being cheeky). Then suddenly the Gelli stopped and the woman handed the baby to the apparente (ticket collector – about a 20 year old young guy) to take off the bus and stayed sitting there. I started getting really stressed that she was leaving her baby there because I wouldn’t pay the ticket. Then the apparente pulled the kid's pants up and handed the baby back to the woman. Amazing – how many people in their Western world would hand their baby to a complete stranger so they could take it for a wee?
Today I was handed a little baby to hold for the mother while she got on board – she then walked off. I was a little worried it was a donation, when she came back. We started travelling and I lifted the baby up to find it had peed all over my bag – much to the amusement of all the other women on board! The mother laughed and took the baby back. Soon after the woman forced the apparente to stop the Gelli so a young girl and her toddler sister could get in. They were walking a journey of about 5km in the hot sun so the women just put them on their laps and we continued travelling and dropped them off later. At times it is really sweet to see the community work together on these buses – clearly the child could not afford the ticket, but they don’t charge for kids sitting on laps.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Day to Day Life
I have realized that I have been blogging away most of the ‘big events’ without actually stopping to let you know what day to day life is like where I live. To be honest it’s not all rosy but it is really cool to live in another country. For me I think it is harder because I have left a place with not many people and have come to a place which is so crammed full of people it is hard to move. Add to that the celebrity status of being a rich taubab and at times I find it really hard to breath (especially the other day when after talking to me for five minutes some dirty bumster decided he had the right to lean in for a kiss!!!). The hassle annoys others but I am a little bit on my own in how much I personally struggle with it. Just imagine people calling out at you every fifty meters – Taubab, Taubab or Ssssssttt just a minute, Can I be your friend? etc etc. Generally I actually like the Taubab from the kids, they are just excited, I am special to them, and they don’t know what it really means. The adults really need to move on. Having said that the majority of Gambians are absolutely lovely, and I mean really lovely. They also have to put up with the embarrassment of these rude people. It just sucks that because there are so many people, the few rude ones are still pretty prevalent.
Ok so moving on from the bad stuff. The good – the kids around my area are learning to call me Awa. Even though I am pretty rude (i.e. always rushing to work or coming home late from work and not spending enough time greeting everyone), my neighbours are pretty forgiving. It is pretty hard for me to make any local acquaintances with the work I am doing. Because I am home late people don’t want to bother me. But the greetings are something I really need to work on, it is not the works fault, it is a balance I need to make.
Having said that however, when I am actually home at reasonable times my door is really busy! The other day another volunteer came to visit me and couldn’t believe how many visitors I had. It was really cute that Ebi and Ejay came over especially to show me a drama that they had concocted between them. They are working on a special one for when Nic arrives. At times I think that the visitors might be because they are curious to meet my guest – it just happens that the only times I get home early is when I have people staying.
Next door is a group of girls who are pretty industrious. One dyes fabric and sells it to pay her school fees. The others are embroidering me a table cloth and four seat covers (ironically they are using fluro multi-coloured yarn to embroider hearts with arrows through them on a pastel pink background – not sure what I will do with the finished product), we negotiated a price but I had to raise it when I saw the work because they were selling themselves short.
I have made one ‘friend’ her name is Awa – my namesake. She is staying with the family in the compound across from me. Life is pretty hard for her as she has to get up early and do the work in the compound before school and also do work such as cooking after school. Tonight she is sitting out the front of my compound selling cooked fish to people (take away here takes on a new meaning!). She is doing her final exams in year twelve and although she is lucky to stay with a family to do her study, she has no time to actually study.
Ebi is also someone who regularly drops in. He and Ejay would come around more but I am rarely home at a good time. The other night Ebi was here late, having got lost in the array of songs he found on my computer (we have an emo in the making!) and there was suddenly a huge crash and bang. He jumped out of his skin!!! I wasn’t so worried having heard the noise a hundred times before. He was ready to race out of my door, imagining a robber in my back yard (no he was racing out the front – he wasn’t trying to protect me!). So I went outside (against his better judgement I can assure you) and brought in the first of the mangos off my tree. In my backyard I have a mango tree and for weeks before they were ripe my nights would be full of these huge crashes as the mangos fell from the tree – there is nothing quite like that noise!
Anyway after Ebi’s fright I have now had the noise of hundreds of fruit bats fighting in the tree over my ripe mangos. The bonus is that every time I hear the great crash I can go out and pick up a ripe mango – delivered right to my door. If I am not quick in retrieving them they are gone in the morning as rats visit my back yard in the night and eat everything. Luckily I never see them and they don’t come inside so they don’t bother me in the least (I was hoping one of the kittens would come back for them but no such luck).
Most nights however I either do work or watch a movie or a tv series (you can buy dvds here for $2 with about six movies on them or a whole season of a television series such as house or grey’s anatomy). Tonight I was watching one and feeling a little ashamed that I didn’t fit in better and have made more friends when a little group showed up at my door. It was two boys from two compounds away with their school books ready for some reading lessons. These boys are so keen on learning that they hang around when my neighbor Mr Touray is tutoring some other kids. They really try when I give them sums to do but they struggle with seven plus four – even when I put up my fingers for them – and one is in Grade three. I mentioned that if I was home early enough I would give them lessons so that is what we did. We made a little book for them to illustrate and practiced blending ‘at’ words. It was interesting to watch the way they reacted to the positive praise. I was a little alarmed that they felt the need to go and get me a stick! By the end of the lesson a big group of kids had gathered for the reading lesson and they were all getting closer to me and stroking my hair. I will have to make an effort now to get home earlier and teach them lessons because I think the experience is probably even more rewarding for me than them.
Ok so moving on from the bad stuff. The good – the kids around my area are learning to call me Awa. Even though I am pretty rude (i.e. always rushing to work or coming home late from work and not spending enough time greeting everyone), my neighbours are pretty forgiving. It is pretty hard for me to make any local acquaintances with the work I am doing. Because I am home late people don’t want to bother me. But the greetings are something I really need to work on, it is not the works fault, it is a balance I need to make.
Having said that however, when I am actually home at reasonable times my door is really busy! The other day another volunteer came to visit me and couldn’t believe how many visitors I had. It was really cute that Ebi and Ejay came over especially to show me a drama that they had concocted between them. They are working on a special one for when Nic arrives. At times I think that the visitors might be because they are curious to meet my guest – it just happens that the only times I get home early is when I have people staying.
Next door is a group of girls who are pretty industrious. One dyes fabric and sells it to pay her school fees. The others are embroidering me a table cloth and four seat covers (ironically they are using fluro multi-coloured yarn to embroider hearts with arrows through them on a pastel pink background – not sure what I will do with the finished product), we negotiated a price but I had to raise it when I saw the work because they were selling themselves short.
I have made one ‘friend’ her name is Awa – my namesake. She is staying with the family in the compound across from me. Life is pretty hard for her as she has to get up early and do the work in the compound before school and also do work such as cooking after school. Tonight she is sitting out the front of my compound selling cooked fish to people (take away here takes on a new meaning!). She is doing her final exams in year twelve and although she is lucky to stay with a family to do her study, she has no time to actually study.
Ebi is also someone who regularly drops in. He and Ejay would come around more but I am rarely home at a good time. The other night Ebi was here late, having got lost in the array of songs he found on my computer (we have an emo in the making!) and there was suddenly a huge crash and bang. He jumped out of his skin!!! I wasn’t so worried having heard the noise a hundred times before. He was ready to race out of my door, imagining a robber in my back yard (no he was racing out the front – he wasn’t trying to protect me!). So I went outside (against his better judgement I can assure you) and brought in the first of the mangos off my tree. In my backyard I have a mango tree and for weeks before they were ripe my nights would be full of these huge crashes as the mangos fell from the tree – there is nothing quite like that noise!
Anyway after Ebi’s fright I have now had the noise of hundreds of fruit bats fighting in the tree over my ripe mangos. The bonus is that every time I hear the great crash I can go out and pick up a ripe mango – delivered right to my door. If I am not quick in retrieving them they are gone in the morning as rats visit my back yard in the night and eat everything. Luckily I never see them and they don’t come inside so they don’t bother me in the least (I was hoping one of the kittens would come back for them but no such luck).
Most nights however I either do work or watch a movie or a tv series (you can buy dvds here for $2 with about six movies on them or a whole season of a television series such as house or grey’s anatomy). Tonight I was watching one and feeling a little ashamed that I didn’t fit in better and have made more friends when a little group showed up at my door. It was two boys from two compounds away with their school books ready for some reading lessons. These boys are so keen on learning that they hang around when my neighbor Mr Touray is tutoring some other kids. They really try when I give them sums to do but they struggle with seven plus four – even when I put up my fingers for them – and one is in Grade three. I mentioned that if I was home early enough I would give them lessons so that is what we did. We made a little book for them to illustrate and practiced blending ‘at’ words. It was interesting to watch the way they reacted to the positive praise. I was a little alarmed that they felt the need to go and get me a stick! By the end of the lesson a big group of kids had gathered for the reading lesson and they were all getting closer to me and stroking my hair. I will have to make an effort now to get home earlier and teach them lessons because I think the experience is probably even more rewarding for me than them.
St Louis Jazz festival - photos to come when the internet is faster
St Louis – in a word – I loved it!!!! Senegal is far more developed than the Gambia, although it is still clear to see that the people live in Poverty. St Louis was amazing because it had really come alive for a world class Jazz festival. There were plenty of Taubabs around (white people); some travelers, some Gambian or Senegalese volunteers. The streets were filled with music and markets and although there were plenty of street sellers I found the hassle to be far less than in Brikama (it may also be because I didn’t speak French and therefore didn’t understand what they were saying to me).
It struck me that St Louis was just what I imagined Spain to be and this was confirmed by someone who had visited Spain, and said it reminded them of it. The streets were gorgeous and the houses had a very rustic appeal, and were amazing to look at. I spent the majority of the three and a half days we were there making the most of the ‘real’ restaurants and shopping without hassle (the range of souvenirs was bigger than in the Gambia and they weren’t all wooden so I cashed in on it). I also took the time to explore the parts of the island – there was a bridge across to St Louis which seemed to be two islands. The first was fairly posh and where all the tourists were. The second had day to day living and it was here that the poverty of the people living there really hit me. The walk around the second island was an eye opener. People and animals were everywhere as was waste and animal dung. Flies swarmed everywhere. Along the beach it was a huge contrast from Australia. We generally have really posh coastal property near the beach, here along the beach was really run down. The beach itself was packed with kids.
One of the outstanding things about Senegal was the amount of street kids begging. In Gambia orphans are taken in by families and even when a family is really poor another family will take on a foster child. In Senegal there are many street children and they don’t necessarily lack a home. From what I understand some are sent to private boarding schools for an education, when the family is poor, and the schools need to send them out begging to pay the cost of accommodation and food. This is very brief but I don’t know enough and really don’t want to comment about it on a blog so don’t take these comments as fact.
One of the best bits of the Jazz festival was meeting up with other volunteers and finding about their jobs. We first met Paulina and Adriana who work for the UN and the European Union on developmental projects such as road building. Paulina’s boyfriend Nate is moving to the Gambia and they met him off the plane in Dakar. We met up with them again in St Louis as they stayed at the same hostel. We then met Sophie in a market who is from Belgium and volunteers with the Belgium Government. Sophie was ‘couch surfing’ which is where you can look up on the internet for people’s couches to sleep on when you are travelling.
In the compound where she was staying another two volunteers were also staying and one was an Australian!!!! I was so excited to finally find another Australian in West Africa – I gave Sophie my number and when AJ (Annali) rang I was amazed to hear the Australian accent for the first time in my life. I have officially been surrounded by Brits and Americans for too long!!! By the way our accent sounds cool (I had watched a movie with an Australian in it a few weeks before and had thought it was just the actor putting on an accent but now I think it may have been the real deal).
AJ flew to Senegal on her own steam and now volunteers with Allison in a village in Senegal working at an orphanage helping to teach young adolescents. Allison is from France and has now returned to France but will be heading to Australia soon (and hopefully to visit Edenhope when I come home!). We also met up with two girls who work on a Medical Research project for MRC which is opposite VSO in the Gambia.
The Jazz festival really comes alive at night and although there is an official concert there are live bands playing in all the pubs and nightclubs on the island. On the first two nights we just listened to bands in bars. One band was absolutely amazing so I spent the next day finding a cd shop with a person who spoke enough English for me to buy the cd. Eventually I found a guy who spoke a tiny bit of English and bought the cd with four words “cool, girl, bass player”. He knew his bands!!
The Jazz festival itself was amazing, we went for two nights. We saw a German school band (who were very impressive), a French Quartet (really high quality jazz), an African Jazz roots band (my favourite!) a Spanish Jazz band and Pharaoh Sanders, who was a really experiences Saxophone player and was worth watching just for the enjoyment he gets from his music.
It was a really nice break from work and mostly for me – the hassle in day to day life in Brikama. I met some amazing people – Sophie and AJ are coming to Gambia to visit in a couple of weeks and I will try to visit Sophie soon (she lives in Tambakunda which is near a wildlife reserve with lions!).
It struck me that St Louis was just what I imagined Spain to be and this was confirmed by someone who had visited Spain, and said it reminded them of it. The streets were gorgeous and the houses had a very rustic appeal, and were amazing to look at. I spent the majority of the three and a half days we were there making the most of the ‘real’ restaurants and shopping without hassle (the range of souvenirs was bigger than in the Gambia and they weren’t all wooden so I cashed in on it). I also took the time to explore the parts of the island – there was a bridge across to St Louis which seemed to be two islands. The first was fairly posh and where all the tourists were. The second had day to day living and it was here that the poverty of the people living there really hit me. The walk around the second island was an eye opener. People and animals were everywhere as was waste and animal dung. Flies swarmed everywhere. Along the beach it was a huge contrast from Australia. We generally have really posh coastal property near the beach, here along the beach was really run down. The beach itself was packed with kids.
One of the outstanding things about Senegal was the amount of street kids begging. In Gambia orphans are taken in by families and even when a family is really poor another family will take on a foster child. In Senegal there are many street children and they don’t necessarily lack a home. From what I understand some are sent to private boarding schools for an education, when the family is poor, and the schools need to send them out begging to pay the cost of accommodation and food. This is very brief but I don’t know enough and really don’t want to comment about it on a blog so don’t take these comments as fact.
One of the best bits of the Jazz festival was meeting up with other volunteers and finding about their jobs. We first met Paulina and Adriana who work for the UN and the European Union on developmental projects such as road building. Paulina’s boyfriend Nate is moving to the Gambia and they met him off the plane in Dakar. We met up with them again in St Louis as they stayed at the same hostel. We then met Sophie in a market who is from Belgium and volunteers with the Belgium Government. Sophie was ‘couch surfing’ which is where you can look up on the internet for people’s couches to sleep on when you are travelling.
In the compound where she was staying another two volunteers were also staying and one was an Australian!!!! I was so excited to finally find another Australian in West Africa – I gave Sophie my number and when AJ (Annali) rang I was amazed to hear the Australian accent for the first time in my life. I have officially been surrounded by Brits and Americans for too long!!! By the way our accent sounds cool (I had watched a movie with an Australian in it a few weeks before and had thought it was just the actor putting on an accent but now I think it may have been the real deal).
AJ flew to Senegal on her own steam and now volunteers with Allison in a village in Senegal working at an orphanage helping to teach young adolescents. Allison is from France and has now returned to France but will be heading to Australia soon (and hopefully to visit Edenhope when I come home!). We also met up with two girls who work on a Medical Research project for MRC which is opposite VSO in the Gambia.
The Jazz festival really comes alive at night and although there is an official concert there are live bands playing in all the pubs and nightclubs on the island. On the first two nights we just listened to bands in bars. One band was absolutely amazing so I spent the next day finding a cd shop with a person who spoke enough English for me to buy the cd. Eventually I found a guy who spoke a tiny bit of English and bought the cd with four words “cool, girl, bass player”. He knew his bands!!
The Jazz festival itself was amazing, we went for two nights. We saw a German school band (who were very impressive), a French Quartet (really high quality jazz), an African Jazz roots band (my favourite!) a Spanish Jazz band and Pharaoh Sanders, who was a really experiences Saxophone player and was worth watching just for the enjoyment he gets from his music.
It was a really nice break from work and mostly for me – the hassle in day to day life in Brikama. I met some amazing people – Sophie and AJ are coming to Gambia to visit in a couple of weeks and I will try to visit Sophie soon (she lives in Tambakunda which is near a wildlife reserve with lions!).
The Journey to St Louis - photos when the internet is faster
The trek to Dakar and St Louis really highlighted the importance of good roads. Katie and I left Brikama at 5am to catch transport to Banjul. The distance is not very far (it wouldn’t even be as far away as Naracoorte from Edenhope) but we didn’t arrive until quarter to 7. This was on good roads, it just takes a long time to get public transport because so many people get on and off that the car stops every couple of kilometers – yes even at 5am!
We were just in time to catch the first ferry from Barra to Banjul. You can see the pic of how many people are on the ferry – I was amazed one time to see the ferry packed with people and cars and four trucks fully loaded with blue stone. I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t my ferry, but this did turn out to be the case on the return ferry journey from Senegal.
Once we got to Barra we met Emma and found out that the car we were travelling in (which was being driven by Pauline, a UN worker, with Adriana from the European Union) had missed the first ferry and would be three ferries later. We were lucky enough to find an internet café and filled the time in with coffee (Nescafe blend 43 mixed with sweetened condensed milk and literally thrown from one cup to another to make a cappacino), tapalapa with ackra (a heavy bread stick filled with fried bean balls and salsa) and facebook.
At ten we left and drove to the border, which wasn’t far but was hectic. Cars haven’t been around in Gambia long enough for people to watch out for traffic – the driver assumes responsibility for everything; jamming on breaks for pedestrians, livestock, cyclists and other drivers. No one takes responsibility for themselves – daily I see near fatal accidents which are narrowly avoided by these drivers who would be nearly the worst in the world apart from their world class defensive driving skills. It was impressive watching how well Paulina negotiated through the chaos considering she had only been driving in the country for a month.
At the border we had to sign out of Gambia and into Senegal – a process that made me extremely nervous because it was the first time I had driven over a border and not flown. I also was the only one in the car who needed a visa and the silly one who forgot my VSO card and Gambian residential permit (neither was actually needed in the long run).
Once over the border I quickly learned the importance of learning another language at school. The Senegalese people only speak Wolof and French. It was the first time I had been in a non-English speaking country and it really made the lazy attitude Australian’s have towards a second language stand out as ignorant. Nearly all the other volunteers could speak at least two languages (Paulina could speak English, Polish and French, Adriana French, Spanish and English). I really want to mention this as I know Ines has had a lot of hassle about German being a useless subject. When I was at school I couldn’t imagine that I would end up mixing with people from so many other countries, but I did that in Australia, without even leaving home. It’s not the language that you learn but the process of learning another language and the awareness it gives you that is important.
On this trip I had to decode menu’s using a French phrase book or reply on someone else to translate to do everything from finding out where we were going to how much I had to pay for something. At times I could do it using gestures but it was difficult. At least now I have had a crash course in speaking French and have learnt quite a bit through necessity.
Over the border we had about an hour of good road and about four hours of constant lurching due to pot holes or the necessary breaking for livestock, huge holes in the road and other cars. It was even more uncomfortable because three of us were sitting in two seats, which meant the whole time I was perched half on a wheel hub and half on a seat. I am not complaining though because the car was air conditioned and didn’t have to stop regularly for other passengers.
At one stage we stopped and stepped outside and it was like standing next to a wood fire that on high heat with the fan on full. I have never experienced anything that hot and can’t imagine how people survive in the little grass huts they live in.
We eventually got to Dakar at six thirty at night. A thirteen hour journey in the end – but the distance would probably only have been from Edenhope to Melbourne (I am not sure how far it is so I challenge you to look up Brikama and Dakar on the web!). Again negotiating finding your way through a foreign city without street or road signs and with crazy drivers was not easy but Adriana and Paulina managed it like pros. I was so impressed with them.
We left Dakar at seven thirty the next morning and hired a set plass (a station wagon – called a set plass because it is modified to carry seven passengers - seven places). We were joined for this leg of the journey by Mariella (another VSO) and her friend from Denmark. The journey to St Louis was long and hot (no air conditioning but I found out that four windows work just as well unless you are stopped), however the roads were amazing. We arrived in St Louis around two o’clock which gave us time for a snooze before exploring the town.
The ride home was even easier. We met up with a crew of Peace Corp and medical research volunteers from the Gambia so between the ten of us we hired a Gelli (a mini van that is modified to hold fourteen passengers – although this means cramming three to a seat and having one passenger on a make-shift fold down seat in each row). The road from St Louis to the Gambian border was fairly good although the last hour it was the nasty pot holed road we had on the way up. Unfortunately I was on the makeshift fold down seat which rocked from side to side. The combination of the seat and the road meant it was just like being in a boat on really stormy seas and I was thrown on to the girl beside me regularly until we jammed the seat with coke bottles (which still didn’t fix the problem but made it better).
At the border I was relieved not to be asked for the cards I left at home and we processed through even more quickly than on the way over. We then jammed into a bus/van vehicle and were pushed started (it is amazing that a van full of twenty to thirty people can be push started!) and drove the twenty minutes to Barra to catch the ferry. Katie and I eventually got home at seven thirty at night, having left St Louis at six am (again I am not sure how far it is from St Louis to Brikama but it will be good for your geography to check out the map).
We were just in time to catch the first ferry from Barra to Banjul. You can see the pic of how many people are on the ferry – I was amazed one time to see the ferry packed with people and cars and four trucks fully loaded with blue stone. I thanked my lucky stars that it wasn’t my ferry, but this did turn out to be the case on the return ferry journey from Senegal.
Once we got to Barra we met Emma and found out that the car we were travelling in (which was being driven by Pauline, a UN worker, with Adriana from the European Union) had missed the first ferry and would be three ferries later. We were lucky enough to find an internet café and filled the time in with coffee (Nescafe blend 43 mixed with sweetened condensed milk and literally thrown from one cup to another to make a cappacino), tapalapa with ackra (a heavy bread stick filled with fried bean balls and salsa) and facebook.
At ten we left and drove to the border, which wasn’t far but was hectic. Cars haven’t been around in Gambia long enough for people to watch out for traffic – the driver assumes responsibility for everything; jamming on breaks for pedestrians, livestock, cyclists and other drivers. No one takes responsibility for themselves – daily I see near fatal accidents which are narrowly avoided by these drivers who would be nearly the worst in the world apart from their world class defensive driving skills. It was impressive watching how well Paulina negotiated through the chaos considering she had only been driving in the country for a month.
At the border we had to sign out of Gambia and into Senegal – a process that made me extremely nervous because it was the first time I had driven over a border and not flown. I also was the only one in the car who needed a visa and the silly one who forgot my VSO card and Gambian residential permit (neither was actually needed in the long run).
Once over the border I quickly learned the importance of learning another language at school. The Senegalese people only speak Wolof and French. It was the first time I had been in a non-English speaking country and it really made the lazy attitude Australian’s have towards a second language stand out as ignorant. Nearly all the other volunteers could speak at least two languages (Paulina could speak English, Polish and French, Adriana French, Spanish and English). I really want to mention this as I know Ines has had a lot of hassle about German being a useless subject. When I was at school I couldn’t imagine that I would end up mixing with people from so many other countries, but I did that in Australia, without even leaving home. It’s not the language that you learn but the process of learning another language and the awareness it gives you that is important.
On this trip I had to decode menu’s using a French phrase book or reply on someone else to translate to do everything from finding out where we were going to how much I had to pay for something. At times I could do it using gestures but it was difficult. At least now I have had a crash course in speaking French and have learnt quite a bit through necessity.
Over the border we had about an hour of good road and about four hours of constant lurching due to pot holes or the necessary breaking for livestock, huge holes in the road and other cars. It was even more uncomfortable because three of us were sitting in two seats, which meant the whole time I was perched half on a wheel hub and half on a seat. I am not complaining though because the car was air conditioned and didn’t have to stop regularly for other passengers.
At one stage we stopped and stepped outside and it was like standing next to a wood fire that on high heat with the fan on full. I have never experienced anything that hot and can’t imagine how people survive in the little grass huts they live in.
We eventually got to Dakar at six thirty at night. A thirteen hour journey in the end – but the distance would probably only have been from Edenhope to Melbourne (I am not sure how far it is so I challenge you to look up Brikama and Dakar on the web!). Again negotiating finding your way through a foreign city without street or road signs and with crazy drivers was not easy but Adriana and Paulina managed it like pros. I was so impressed with them.
We left Dakar at seven thirty the next morning and hired a set plass (a station wagon – called a set plass because it is modified to carry seven passengers - seven places). We were joined for this leg of the journey by Mariella (another VSO) and her friend from Denmark. The journey to St Louis was long and hot (no air conditioning but I found out that four windows work just as well unless you are stopped), however the roads were amazing. We arrived in St Louis around two o’clock which gave us time for a snooze before exploring the town.
The ride home was even easier. We met up with a crew of Peace Corp and medical research volunteers from the Gambia so between the ten of us we hired a Gelli (a mini van that is modified to hold fourteen passengers – although this means cramming three to a seat and having one passenger on a make-shift fold down seat in each row). The road from St Louis to the Gambian border was fairly good although the last hour it was the nasty pot holed road we had on the way up. Unfortunately I was on the makeshift fold down seat which rocked from side to side. The combination of the seat and the road meant it was just like being in a boat on really stormy seas and I was thrown on to the girl beside me regularly until we jammed the seat with coke bottles (which still didn’t fix the problem but made it better).
At the border I was relieved not to be asked for the cards I left at home and we processed through even more quickly than on the way over. We then jammed into a bus/van vehicle and were pushed started (it is amazing that a van full of twenty to thirty people can be push started!) and drove the twenty minutes to Barra to catch the ferry. Katie and I eventually got home at seven thirty at night, having left St Louis at six am (again I am not sure how far it is from St Louis to Brikama but it will be good for your geography to check out the map).
Rubbish
I am dedicating this section to rubbish. Something I had never thought about is that in developing countries with limited national budgets, garbage collection is not yet on the agenda. Not only does it make you think twice about getting things with wrappers (where are you going to put the wrapper when you’re done?) but it is also a good argument for recycling. Whoever argued against the phasing out of plastic bags – keep an eye on this site. I will post some photos that will completely blow your mind at how damaging those things really are. Yep no bins mean black plastic bags are flying everywhere and believe me they do not break down!!!! They wreak havoc to the environment.
Every market seller insists on giving you a bag – to the point where I have no more room for bags. But I am glad to see the Gambians do use baskets and buckets on their heads to carry their shopping. This means that even though they try to use less bags the things are still choking every street (they are even flying around when you are driving around places where no houses are!). The only thing I have seen breaking down is the one green bag I saw in a garbage pile that was too heavy to blow around the environment and was breaking up due to the hot sun.
Every market seller insists on giving you a bag – to the point where I have no more room for bags. But I am glad to see the Gambians do use baskets and buckets on their heads to carry their shopping. This means that even though they try to use less bags the things are still choking every street (they are even flying around when you are driving around places where no houses are!). The only thing I have seen breaking down is the one green bag I saw in a garbage pile that was too heavy to blow around the environment and was breaking up due to the hot sun.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Achieving the unachievable
Ok so now it is time to sit and take stock. Since I have started at the Gambia College I have had to work late at night most nights and a lot of time on the weekends (no different to being a teacher so no this is not a complaint). What has been achieved?
So far I have taught 2 subjects in ECD (including marking 180 assignments), worked alongside one Art lecture to improve his knowledge of ECD art and have been requested to help another, drafted the ECD coursework for ECD teacher trainers at the Gambia College (no small task), marked final year projects and am now writing up a module for a teacher trainer training course. I have only been on the job two months.
The only difference between here and home is that the timelines in the Gambia are a lot shorter. The course curriculum I had three days to write up (it took over three weeks). My boss asked me to write up a module for the training course - complete with full course notes, knowing that I only had one and a half days, then also asked me to review the curriculum I had just handed to him and write another module as well. You do have to respect the Gambians though - it is unachievable but they still give it a good shot (my boss is writing up a module as well as lecturing in a similiar timeframe).
Wow!
P.S. I only achieved writing up one module (I might need tips on being spiderman from Tom ;-))
So far I have taught 2 subjects in ECD (including marking 180 assignments), worked alongside one Art lecture to improve his knowledge of ECD art and have been requested to help another, drafted the ECD coursework for ECD teacher trainers at the Gambia College (no small task), marked final year projects and am now writing up a module for a teacher trainer training course. I have only been on the job two months.
The only difference between here and home is that the timelines in the Gambia are a lot shorter. The course curriculum I had three days to write up (it took over three weeks). My boss asked me to write up a module for the training course - complete with full course notes, knowing that I only had one and a half days, then also asked me to review the curriculum I had just handed to him and write another module as well. You do have to respect the Gambians though - it is unachievable but they still give it a good shot (my boss is writing up a module as well as lecturing in a similiar timeframe).
Wow!
P.S. I only achieved writing up one module (I might need tips on being spiderman from Tom ;-))
Gospel Music
Yeah I am officially a dag! But it's not everyday someone invites you to a Gospel music festival. I can't say that I'm changing my tastes from punk to Gospel now but you have to admire the energy those people have!!!
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Basse
Last week I went to Basse (which is one of the furthest towns in the Gambia). It was a fair drive which involved three ferry crossings - but because I was in an air conditioned car it was no further than the drive to Melbourne from Edenhope - except that the last hour was on a road full of pot holes!!! (kinda like some roads at home ;-) ) Basse is one of the hottest places in the Gambia but the heat at this time of year was very dry - exactly the same as some of the 40+ days at home. The place actually reminded me of Edenhope - sparse grazing land similar to home (even some gum trees!). It was really, really nice to be back in the country.
Basse itself is a city, similar to Brikama (where I live) but more like a country cousin. The purpose of the visit was to see some of the nursery schools down there as part of a 0-6 years old curriculum review.
Some of the nursery schools were similiar to those around my region but you would often find a herd of cows or goats and a well in the school yard (not something you might see at home!). At times you would even go to a school to find a classroom full of kids and no teacher or a classroom with kids, a teacher and some desks but only one set of number flash cards to teach with. The teachers around Basse have to be very innovative - but some of them could achieve this quite well with rhymes, actions and a positive attitude. Others however I could see felt overwhelmed.
I have posted some photo's of the experience so you can see the cows, wells and bare classrooms. You can also see the gorgeous children down there (it is such a nice community - friendly and very little of the hassle I get in Brikama) and Horija, my colleague, and the mangos (mangos are everywhere at the moment!).
I have also posted a pic of Cem (pronounced Jim), another VSO volunteer, who is posted down in Basse with Lynn and Tom (also volunteers but Lynn was in England awaiting her grandchild's arrival!). Tom helped us a lot with knowing which schools to visit and Cem was like my big brother, taking me to some of the closest schools on the back of his motorbike (yes Mum I wore a helmet). Travelling on the roads around Basse is more like riding through the paddocks at home - they are just small dirt tracks.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Staff Picnic
We had our staff picnic on the weekend. Here are the pics - Ang I hope you are taking note... staff picnic on the beach!!!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
