It's my favourite time of day, just before 8am, when the morning sun is bathing everything in a pinky-golden glow. The air is cool and there are just a few birds chirping. It is particularly quiet today as it's 'Set Setal', or Operation Clean the Nation day, which happens every couple of months or so - from 9am to 1pm businesses are shut and transportation is not permitted. Everyone is meant to clean up their compounds and the streets. It works quite well; later on there will be little fires smouldering in the ditches to burn the rubbish (recycling hasn't quite caught on here yet).

We're feeling pretty settled now - we've decorated the apartment a bit, have met a great group of people, and have discovered that they even sell Leffe in some of the shops here, so life is complete, at least as far as JT is concerned.

Our apartment

Beautiful sunset: it's quite unusual to see the sun so low in the sky as it's usually swallowed up in the haze above the sea

 I finally got round to taking the car to a German mechanic that had been recommended to me (technically, I should have done this before buying it). He proceeded to tell me that I had succeeded in buying a rare US model, for which no parts would be available locally - I would have to import from the US, it would cost me over $1000 (bearing in mind the car cost me over €4500, which I was reliably informed in a heated Germanic tone was "too much! it's too much!"). The alarm, which had a nasty habit of going off at regular intervals - nice for the neighbours in the early hours - was an 'Arab alarm system' (not a technical term, I've checked), and would not, sadly, be possible to fix. Finally, he told me that there was no way to remove the wheels or check the brakes, as we did not have the special spanner to undo the security wheel bolts (this had surely been 'thrown away' by the careless Lebanese mechanic from whom I had bought it). He proceeded to charge me €30 for his damning prognosis.

We were a bit miffed and went to see the Lebanese guy in question, who promptly raised his eyebrows, went into his garage, and emerged with a normal spanner in hand, before proceeding to fix it to the bolt, give it a good tug, and demonstrate the ease with which a well-oiled 'security' bolt will come away. With a pat on the bonnet, he declared that this was an "African car" and handed us the spanner with a glance which expressed his pity for our naive European ways.  Finally, we met an English mechanic who dabbles in cars as a hobby (tractors being his main thing), who took one look at the alarm system and unwrapped the duct tape which was mysteriously holding two wires together...and that was the undoing of the indestructible Arab alarm.

The trusty car...and the fancy EC plates

Work is interesting, I've been working flat out on the Delegation website and that was finally launched last week (it was meant to have been completed in 2009 apparently, so it was long overdue!). I didn't think I would enjoy the communications work as much as the political work, but it's actually nice to have a mix, particularly when progress on political issues is slow (the Justice Minister did not seem to think that abolishing the death penalty was on the cards any time soon, although in true Gambian style, he let us down politely, talking at length about 'processes to be followed...stakeholders, Cabinet discussions, referendums, etc etc', which was a clever ploy in itself as we all got twitchy wondering when the explanation would end (it eventually did, after 15 minutes, by which time we had gone to another plane of consciousness).

JT's new and implacable friend

 

JT will start at Concern Universal on Monday, working on Disaster Risk Reduction, which will be a change from commercial law, but he's looking forwards to it. We've been for a couple of trips further afield to visit some beautiful beaches along the coast where you can find huge deserted stretches of white sand. The tourist numbers are really dwindling now, so bumsters are thinner on the ground. Still, you can usually count on being accompanied by a couple of stray dogs as you stroll down the beach...

Following his every move

If you get to the beach at the right time (around 4pm), you can watch the fishing boats coming in. It's quite incredible, the entire village spills onto the beach, the women all dressed in bright dresses and the wiry men jumping off boats and running up the beach with crates of fresh fish on their heads. The women proceed to scale and gut the fish and then they're packed onto ice and taken off in anything that will serve as a receptacle - baskets, buckets, old petrol cans...The huge barracuda fish are the big prize, but there are lots of butter fish and ladyfish (quite meaty, chicken-like).

Sanyang fishing village

Grub's up for the birds...

Talking of fish, someone asked me about the food here. As you would expect, there's a lot of fresh fish and prawns, but the national dishes are chicken yassa - chicken in a delicious onion and lemon sauce with lots of spices (although it's not spicy), typically served with rice. The other dish is beef or chicken 'domoda', a kind of peanut stew (groundnuts are the Gambian national crop) - tasty but quite heavy. Otherwise, lots of fresh fruit and vegetables - mangos are just coming into season and the grapefruit here are delicious, as sweet and juicy as an orange! Children sell sprigs of fresh mint and other herbs piled onto huge wicker platters which they carry on their heads.


Well, we're off to buy some fruit from the market - that's a sight in itself so I'll get some photos for the next update!