Trekking

Bak's turn to scribe something to inform, amuse and entertain, it's not asking much is it?


OK – trekking for this is what they call visits to schools, once you leave the office you are on “trek” and a whole new set of protocols apply the most important of which is your place in the car. As the least senior person I was allocated centre rear however compared to the bus journeys this was still luxury. So off we set to the farthest schools on the south bank, a 2 hour car drive, the last hour up dirt tracks, through cornfields, villages, where the children all cry “toubab” as they glimpse my white skin. Past monkeys, baboons, vultures, eagles, storks, herons, kingfishers and goodness only knows what else. The purpose of the visits – STABILISATION! It is necessary to visit all 111 schools to verify the number of children so that the correct number of teachers can be posted to the school. The schools submit their numbers but for a variety of reasons these need verification, the figures are almost always inflated. So I arrive with my 3 colleagues and the Head Teacher, who has no idea we are coming, does his or her best to look pleased to see you although of course they are not, these visits are rarely good news for them. My task is to visit the classes and confirm that the number of children in the class matches those marked on the register – occasionally it does. Report back to team leader who is meanwhile in the Head's office checking records. The outcome can be brutal. If there is over staffing, and a class can have up to 50, then the transfer memo for a teacher is written then and there. The Head is asked who they would like to lose and that person is told to report to another school in the region with immediate effect. Thank goodness this doesn't happen at home, I fear I might have reached the Orkneys by now. This all concludes at around 6:30 so the drive home is in the descending gloom and soon it is dark – read on.






I haven't travelled much at night here and this isn't going to change. Even from the safety of a car the Gambian bush by night does not look terribly welcoming. Like a scene from Avatar or a Tim Burton animation the creatures of the night are many and strange. I have no idea what flew, crawled, ran or slithered across our headlights but suffice to say they were many and varied. There were, I am sure, fangs, talons, wings with hooks on the end, bulbous eyes, and a variety of other ways to locate you and feast. I would not like to be far down the food chain here, I don't think you can last very long. There were times when I physically shrunk back into my seat certain that this creature was about to come through the windscreen. And my colleagues, oblivious it all, continued to chat amicably in Mandinka – I try to follow but there is little hope save for the odd word of English that is interspersed amongst the local language. And so having left at 7AM I returned home at 8pm to be greeted by Hawa and a fridge full of soft drinks – not so bad. The night creatures safely locked out I felt safe and secure and happy to be home.