Big Brother House

We have moved from luxury.  No more warm showers, (albethey hunt the drip), clean sheets, cold water from the fridge or meals cooked for us.  We have moved into the Big Brother house where we reside for the next three weeks.  There are seven of us, a varied brigade of middle class (but not Pete of course) companions aged between 60 and 29 who will get on.  

You can but imagine the scene as the bleach white gaggle of 'toubabs' saunter along the road somewhat bemused, trying to undertake the latest task.  The Gambians of all ages, sizes and both genders like to talk to us.  It’s mainly friendly banter, although there are the ‘bumsters’ who will follow and try to persuade you to part with your money, using a wide range of ingenious stories and ploys.  A quick bit of Mandinka and the mention of VSO and they soon leave us alone.  Our challenge is to decide between the two.

The house itself is much more spacious that I had imagined.  There are four rooms with two double beds. Dominated by the inevitable mosquito nets they sport some sort of wicker structure on which to suspend, place or display clothing and a huge amount of sandy dust. (Have I mentioned the sand before?)  We also have a huge living area with four tables and chairs and the kitchen.  Mmmm, the cooking area.  A sink, two ring gas stove, water filter, a fridge and enough microorganisms to build up our resistance for the next year.  We plan to cook in turns, which could be interesting as there is a wide variety of skills and interest in food.  Tonight I think it will be Canti, our resident Indian Canadian, who may stop laughing long enough to cook.  She looks after us all and is totally incredulous at many things we do, say, have or don’t have and then joins in with a merry smile.

So here we are, the seven of us, sitting in the living room undertaking various puzzles, books and card games looking somewhat bedraggled after the first nights sleep or non sleep for most of us.  The new noises are intense, the security guards radio, babies crying, scolded children, call to prayer and the ‘scrawny cockerel……..I’ll ring it’s neck’.  It’s only half seven and we await the opening of the shops to get breakfast, the wi fi cafe and to see what the new day will bring.

Mandinka

“In shallah” or good morning to you and me.

We have a new language to learn. Mandinka.  It’s full of phonic sounds, said loudly and with a big smile.  The training is intense.  Two hours of vocabulary, phrases and new sounds, and we are asked about you all, by everyone, all the time.

“Suu moolu lee?”

“I bee be jee”

It transpires that greeting everyone, at length, is essential as not to do so causes great offense. This means that you have to go through a long ritual about everyone before you can ask if you can borrow a pen. If someone comes into the training room everything stops for half an hour.

In a group of two there’s nowhere to hide and it’s reminiscent of O Level French (not my forte) with list of vocab for homework and tests next day.  So saying the tutor is a tall, thin, impeccably dressed Gambian man who speaks 5 languages and laughs at my poor attempts whilst being very encouraging “abaarake abarte”.  Luckily Pete is in a different group as he seems to find the whole thing much much easier – swot.

We have now covered the dizzy heights of greetings, numbers and on Monday we have the language for market bargaining.  A double whammy of four hours which we will have to put into practice at the market alongside the tutors later in the week.

Housekeeping

This is a general information account, always called ‘housekeeping’ in those terrible INSET days that I have left behind.

Pete and I spend are spending the first week in a hotel, Safari Gardens, which sports a swimming pool, showers, occasional hot water and great food.  On Friday we move to the VSO house where we have to begin to fend for ourselves and haggle for the things we will need to take ‘up country’.  We stay here for three more weeks during which time we have language and cultural training not to mention learning to ride motorbikes on the sand and dirt tracks laughingly called roads.

And then that’s it………move to Janjanbureh to our accommodation about which we know little, and to begin work about which we know even less.

At the moment we have a mobile each but the number will change when we move.  We have no postal address, just a physical one, which is something like ‘opposite the mango tree’ and won’t be able to get one until we find the post office and rent a PO Box.  Internet access is questionable although there are some wi fi café’s here, near the main city.

In the meantime comments on the blogs, e-mails and texts are wonderful to receive so keep ‘em coming please

       Pete and Liz in The Gambia

E-mail: walfords@yahoo.com                                        peterunner@googlemail.com

blog: www.peterunner.blogspot.com

donate: www.justgiving.com/walfords

Immigration Office

"we've got to go"
"what? Now? This is GMT. (Gambian maybe time)"
"Now.  The immigration office is closing in 5 minutes for prayer"


It really was a scene from the No. 1 Ladies Detective agency stories.  We were bundled into a van and driven along the dusty road.  Call to prayer was sounding as we skidded to a halt in the sand.  Picture the sight, 8 white, slightly nervous volunteers pushed into an office the size of a cell and sat squeezed side by side along a bench.  Add two desks, 6 Gambian officials and a fan.  Loud questions, Wolof speakers, papers flapping and wads of cash changing hands.  (It costs 1500 dalasi to get our cards.)


Papers passed from one to another.  A tall man asking about middle names and volunteers still squashed slightly bemused by heat, gloom and loud loud voices.  Then the filled papers were passed the the secretarial assistant.  A woman of traditional stature, clearly over qualified as she thumped an ancient typewriter with one finger.  Typos abounded and were removed with a razor blade to be re mistyped.  Said razor blade was passed back and for a wide variety of purposes, paring nails, cutting string, trimming photos and there was only ever one person in activity at any one time - for of course there was only one blade.


Next came the laminator.  Health and safety would have a field day.  No casing, bear metal and wires and LED's falling over the desk.  A frayed cable plugged into a very suspect plug with a paper clip for added security.  A few taps and still no joy.  More loud voices and heated debate.  "We have to wait."


The man in charge decided to smile and change tack.  He was very philosophical especially around education. "African children are stubborn and need to be hit to learn and have respect"



Eventually we left unlaminated cards grasped in hands, Pete is 1800 years old and my name is Eliz****bet (you can't quite re create it)

4th February

An early start with dear Graham driving us to the airport.  Hassle free flights, long but uneventful.  We met 4 volunteers at Heathrow.  Phil is coming to Janjanbureh with us and he's in IT!  There's hope for us yet.


Banjul airport was like all airports busy, bustling. long queues and waiting and eventually cases and people were piled into the van to take us to the hotel where we will spend the next 6 days.


WOW!  What a drive.  Impossible to explain but a few thoughts

• dark night, long long dusty roads
• mad drivers beebing horns traffic lights
• all traffic stops...........donkeys in the road refusing to move
• beautiful women walking elegantly with small babies tied to their backs with long sashes, pots and sacks balanced as they glide down the street
• settees and tables on the pavement to entice a passing purchaser
• shacks next to the 'American Offices'
• overwhelming assault of sounds, sights and smells

Amazing.

Have to finish as we have a party to go to at the Senegambia Hotel - very posh

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Last days in Cardiff

So here we are then, one more day in Cardiff, things sorted ready for packing, huge anti malaria tablets downed in one, bathroom cleaned and very fond farewells said.  A few tears and lots of butterflies and we leave in the early hours with Graham kindly driving us to Heathrow.


A few technical hiccups but finally I've managed to put loads of photos from the Open Day onto flickr  so have a look and see if you can spot yourself on
www.flickr.com/photos/walfords


In the meantime take care of yourselves as we take that leap of faith towards the heat and excitement that is Africa.

Thanks for coming

Thanks to everyone who came on the 16th Jan and made it such a great day. Great to see everyone and most importantly we raised lots of money for VSO. Liz and I hope you all had a great time, there certainly wasn't much drink left over! We can confirm that we will be flying out to The Gambia (Banjul) on February 4th. We will be flying to Bruusels, then on to Dakar before arriving in Banjul. We hope to put some party pictures onto the Flickr website - watch the blogs for more news on this.