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January 6th, 2009

Happy New Year :o]

I haven’t written in awhile because I have been so busy, but wanted a chance to write about my day today. I am currently sitting on the floor at the Peace Corps Transit House in Basse. 2 days ago, we traveled to our sites to visit before our last 10 days in Kombo/swearing-in ceremony. My host family is absolutely amazing; instead of paying rent, I will purchase a bag of rice every 2 months for the family. This is truly astounding, and I am so grateful for them. I live in a round hut, and my backyard is HUGE! I have a ton of cockroaches in my pit latrine [not the best] and I had to fix part of my fence, but that’s fine. Yesterday, I opened my door to welcome the day, and a dog comes bounding in, wagging his tail and licking at my palms. Since then, he has not left my side. He is very well-kept, with a gorgeous roan coat and pale yellow-brown eyes. He follows me about Kuraw and chases the donkeys.

Oh, before I forget --- LOADS of horses in Kuraw. That is amazing, they ride them, they treat them well, I am in heaven and plan on shipping one home. Mum, be ready.

So, onto my day today. Bakary came to my site to help negotiate with my family meals, rent, and laundry. We were told a car would be picking us up at 5:30 this morning, and to be ready. I spent the night anxiously awaiting the dawn, hearing mice scurry around my head and listening to the deep breathing of Dean Pritchard at my feet [my dog. Anyone who knows me knows where that name came from]. By the time 5:00am crawled around, my bags were packed and I was ready. I was donning pants, a tank top, a hoodie, and my raincoat. Needless to say, I thought I was freezing; a quick look at the thermometer had me feeling my head: 72 degrees. I have a problem… and it is Africa.

I literally sat on my bamboo bed for 2 hours waiting for Bakary. He finally strolled in as my family began stirring around 7:30am. The car had not shown up, and we were to walk the 2km to Diabugu and try to get a GeleGele. Okay, I thought. No problem. We’ll just load up everything and hit the road, Jack. And off we walked, down the dusty road, greeting the pink African sun as it rose from its’ slumber.

[Time to paint a quick picture: I had 2 backpacks, a purse, and a big plastic bag that contained my mosquito net. One backpack was on the front of me, one was on the back, and I was carrying the plastic bag while the purse was slung over one shoulder. I looked a hot mess.]

Dean Pritchard bounded happily after us, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he chased after white birds that were freakishly large in size. The dusty road became incredibly tiring as Diabugu ceased to come in sight. 2 km is not far, yes I know this. Try strapping about 90 pounds to your body. Yes, I know I need to learn how to pack lighter. I realized this about 15ft from my door.

Finally, we reach Diabugu, where the policemen inform us that all 10 gelegele’s left at 6am. It is currently 8am. We are told they might all come back around 9 or 10am. Bakary hoists a bench onto his shoulders and carries it to the side of the road, and tells me to sit. Dean Pritchard curls up at my feet and promptly falls asleep. I drop my bags behind me and slump on the bench. I look around and think, probably for the millionth time since being here, This is Africa. Soon, 2 donkeys come strolling up beside us. The one in front has a rope tied to its’ front hoof and is currently tripping over it with his back hoof. Every 3 paces this happens, as if on cue. I notice the second donkey and poke Bakary.

“What’s on that donkey’s foot?” I asked.
“Why, it looks like he is wearing someone’s shoe!” Bakary exclaimed.

Sure enough, the donkey had stepped on some child’s plastic sandal and it had somehow climbed up his hoof and was strapped somewhere near his ankle. It was hilarious. Bakary and I laughed for a good 5 minutes about this, and I seriously debated on whether I was going crazy or not. I think I probably am.

After about an hour, a motorbike pulls up and Bakary speaks quickly to the man in mandinka. The woman on the back hops off, and Bakary looks at me, says, “Get your bags, you’re going to Basse.” Um, okay. WHAT?!

“But what about you?” I ask, trying to gather my things and wondering if I should take off one of my fifteen layers, as I am breaking out into a sweat because it’s well past 80 degrees and I am dressed for a nor’easter.
“I will try to get a gele. I must get Elizabeth in Darsalami, we cannot leave her.” He answered.
“Okay, but you’re leaving me! How will I find you?” I exclaim, as the man is strapping one of my backpacks to the back of his motorbike. At this point, I am slightly panicking. The Africell network is down and has been for 2 days, Basse is a huge city and I have no idea who this man is that I’m about to put my life into his hands.
“Well actually, you’re leaving me. And it’s okay, this man knows the police,” he answers, as if that will reassure me. Next thing I know, I’m on the back of a motorbike with a Gambian and we are puttputting into the distance. Dean Pritchard trotted off behind us happily for about 3 k and then turned around and headed home.

Everything was going fine until the man in front of me [still don’t know his name] ducks and I wonder what he is ducking for. Then I get hit in the face with a branch. Ohhhhhkay, I think. I’m having enough problems with acne over here, now I have a thorn in my face. That’s fantastic. Trust me, I’ve never looked better.

After about 40 minutes, we arrive to the river. We climb into a large metal canoe-type of boat and are transported across, motorbike and all. We end up getting to Basse and have to stop at the Police Stop. They interrogate the poor man [who, might I add, charged me nothing to bring me here] about who I was. He mentioned the Peace Corps, and then they asked for his registration.

“Bring the toubab into town and then come back here.”

All right, this is just fantastic. I am dropped off in the heart of Basse, in front of a Moritanian shop. At this point, I am literally soaked in sweat, and yet I do not take off any of my many layers of clothing. Instead, I put my backpacks back on, yes I understand I looked pregnant, and yes I knew there was a big chance I was going to get pickpocketed.

The Lord was with me today, as none of the above happened. I found a small ‘restaurant’ and completely ravished through a meat and mayo sandwich that was covered in flies. I thought it was delicious.

The man who owned the shop asked me my name and was interested in my story. I explained the events of the morning; he could not believe I was in Basse with no one to help me. “If you wait just a few moments, I could bring you to the Peace Corps house. It is about one kilometer in that direction, but I have my motobike.” Okay, sure, why not. I’ve already done several illegal things today, why not add more to the list? Perfect stranger that wants to bring me somewhere on his bike? Sure, sounds great. Truly. Let’s trust him.

Sure enough, I hop on the back of this motorbike [I am a pro at this point], a bit queasy from the greasy sandwich [still not sure what kind of meat that was? Hopefully not testicle again! Although I could not smell wet cat so I’m sure that wasn’t it] and hoping that I will not die.

We ZOOM off. I am talking insanely fast. There was no puttputting. This man FLEW. After about 3km, I start to get nervous. Okay, he said 1k away…. I’m going to die, he’s going to bring me into the African bush and rape me and then possibly eat me.

Nope, he was just lost. We found the Peace Corps house, and now I am here. WHAT A MORNING.

…this part written later: Lizzy and I have ventured into town 3 times today and had 3 separate sandwiches. This is becoming a problem. Is it really a wonder that I’ve sat on the latrine with gripping stomach pains and GI problems 4 times today? Not at all.

Our last walk into town was around 4pm. Everyone was closed up for prayer, and as we are scurrying through the heart of Basse, I hear a voice.

“Hey, hey you! Did you find your friends?” Sure enough, it was the nice man who had given me a ride. We conversed with him for a bit, asking if he knew where we could get sandwiches. “Well, everyone is closed up for prayer, but if you would like, I could open mine and send my small boy to get eggs! Would you like that?”

Well, TIA again. We just had the most amazing egg omelet and fried onions with mayo sandwich EVER. This man is definitely my new best friend.

I must get to bed now as I am tired and we are leaving around 7am tomorrow back to Kwinella. I have received 3 phone calls these past 2 days from my host sister and father, saying they miss me and I promised to stop in and see them…. As well as my Gambian boyfriend, Ismila Samiteh :o] Who resembles Taye Diggs very strikingly so…. But this is a story for another time. I shall write more later.

Lots of love and prayers to you all!