Wednesday 29 February 2012

four and a half weeks in...

It's hard to believe how quickly my first month has flown by here...I haven't been in touch with people as much as I would have liked and I thought that a blog would be a perfect way to let you all know about life in The Gambia!

So - the basics - the apartment is great, the view is awesome, the weather is warm and dry with a nice sea breeze (it is the dry 'cool' season at the moment but I have been reassured that it should start 'heating up' shortly - after all, it's only 27 degrees most days but the Gambians are wearing woolly hats and shivering - I kid you not!). Apparently the rains start in May - about an hour or so a day and still very pleasant - but August and September are horribly humid, before it cools down again. So book your travel plans accordingly!

The sun setting over the Atlantic


My first impressions have been overwhelmingly positive - life here is ridiculously easy. Or at least it is, once you know a few people - I spent the first week eating out of tins from a local store, but within a couple of weeks people had loaded up my mobile phone with contacts: 'DVD Charlie', 'Bike Abdoulie', 'Taxi Fadoy'...even 'Plant Paaboy', and that really is how it works here. You phone someone for just about anything you might need - and anything is possible, for a fraction of the price in Europe. Now I just need to find a car...

There is a large Lebanese community here doing a lot of business - I was told that they were the people to get in touch with to change money from euros to dalasis - within an hour of transferring the cash online a huge bundle of notes, taped up in black plastic, was delivered to the office - it all felt a bit gangster-ish (which I thoroughly enjoyed). While we're on the subject of money, the notes here are disgusting. You don't want to think about the kind of germs they're harbouring - some of them are almost transparent with use. The smaller denominations are the worst as they're used by taxis and fishermen...

The first line of the Lonely Planet for The Gambia mentions the so-called 'bumsters' - young Gambian men that try to pick up with white European women. It's entirely the fault of the thousands of Western middle-aged women that come here each year looking for them. Like Thailand in reverse. You see odd-looking couples everywhere - very hunky muscular young guys with paunchy (and frankly, that's being kind) Germans, Brits, Swedish women who are at least 30 years older than them. It's kind of sick. Unfortunately the result is that any white woman is seen as game and the hassle is constant. It's never aggressive, just a bit tiring - and the same conversation each time! It goes something like this:

Hi beautiful, how are you?!
Fine.
It's me Lamin, from the hotel, don't you recognise me?! [offended tone but he clearly doesn't recognise me]
No, I'm not staying in a hotel, I live here.
Oh, you live here, where are you staying? [not to be deterred]
Near the beach.
Where are you from, do you like The Gambia?
UK. and Yep. [walking past him]
Maybe I can come to your place some time. [statement, not a question] ...Maybe you can take me to the UK!!! [hopeful, fading]
***ENDS***


It is almost amusing, but not when it's every few minutes!

The coastal area where I'm living (Fajara) is beautiful - the Atlantic ocean rolls onto a wide golden beach - huge stretches are deserted and there are some very nice beach bars and restaurants dotted along the front. Food is great here - a good selection of African and Western dishes - and reliably prepared, one of the advantages of the tourist trade. The tap water is even safe to drink! The streets are clean and there are beautiful hibiscus flower bushes everywhere. Chickens and goats roam the streets, along with a few stray dogs - they all seem to co-exist. Pretty chilled, like everyone else.

Work is interesting too. Today I went to visit an (EU-funded) community-run vegetable garden which is helping over 200 women to grow sustainable produce and sell it on the market. The climate here is fantastic for growing anything and they were shoving enormous cabbages and bushy spring onions into my hands as I walked around. One of the ladies who looked incredibly wizened (although I soon realised she was tougher than she looked, once I'd seen her bulging muscles hauling up a bucket from the well) started singing this kind of chant and the others started clapping, and then they were all on their feet dancing! Apparently the song was to thank us for being there and for the community. These people have some kind of genetic code which means they can move! I was slightly worried that I would be dragged up to join in but was temporarily distracted from my worries by a persistent insect which seemed to like the taste of my legs. I wondered briefly if it was bad etiquette to be slapping my legs and flapping around, but maybe they thought that was Western dancing.

On the subject of mosquitoes, my largest preoccupation in coming here - I haven't seen a single one! I did get bitten twice 2 nights ago, but I hadn't sprayed up so that was daft. It really doesn't seem to be a problem by the coast as they don't like the sea breeze...apparently there are a few more of the little blighters during the rainy season.

Well, I could write so much more but I think this is probably too long already - I'll post again soon!