thoughts and reflections

As a boy born in Sussex, raised until 6 in South East London, a 4 year stint in apartheid South Africa, a further spell in South East London, a year in Germany, 32 years in Cardiff I can now add the best part of a year in Janjangbureh to the list of places I have called home. And what a home it has been, more of which later. I have no doubt that all of my homes have had an influence on me, whether conscious or sub-conscious or possibly even unconscious! For example I understand from others that I have a slight South London accent and I am sure the impact of growing up in South Africa in the 60s had a major impact – not least on my knuckles which were regularly rapped at school – ah happy days! Perhaps even a little bit of Celtic charm has rubbed off and lurks somewhere beneath the brash cockney exterior.

 And so back to Janjangbureh. Living on an island, 10 kilometres by 3 kilometres, in the middle of an incredibly beautiful river in the far west of Africa was never on any plan, it sort of just happened. I'm still not sure how but I think that Jack Daniels and the Internet were the major culprits. Perhaps it goes to show that spontaneity outshines planning by megawatts, I have always thought this anyway although often it's just an excuse to be lazy. It would be easy to wax lyrical and make the whole island and the experience seem idyllic, however those of you who have followed our (progress?) will know that that wouldn't be an accurate reflection of our time here. In fact as a reflection it would be as distorted as one of those fairground mirrors that made you look short and fat.


Goodness knows there have been challenges and you will all be aware of them but lest you should be forgetting our bravery and ability to endure let me remind you of the days that: topped 50 degrees Celsius, the shower floor collapsed, the rat made its home in our house with the lizards, nightly invading insects, weevil infested flour, a diet of aubergines and onions, two tiny rooms so nowhere much to sulk, bucket showers with chickens, bucket showers with tadpoles, insect bites, snakes, malaria, impossibly sandy roads, power cuts, no plumbing, hand washing, boredom, pit latrines etc etc etc. All of this of course was made bearable by the availability of fags and alcohol. (The lesson here, should you ever get drunk and apply to VSO is to research these last two factors very carefully.) And yet here we are, near the end, and having seen off all of the above and the rainy season too. We are now beginning to ponder on those things that we will miss, my list is short, but no less important for that, and looks like this: people, new things and sun. For people you can read all that goes with them, the culture, the interdependence, the friendliness, the comradeship, the humility, the generosity and on and on. These people have had a profound effect on me, I know this is true, I can't quite explain how, I just know I feel different. I am not judging whether the change is for the better or worse. Perhaps that is for others to say, but for myself I am just filled with an enormous sense of admiration for the Gambian people and a tremendous pride in being able to call many of them friends. The sun, well in the middle of your winter I probably don't need to explain. The new things is just that, every day a new bird, a new animal, a new word to learn, a new food to taste, a new smell, a new custom, a new understanding, just so many new things, a wonderful, fulfilling bombardment that at times was overwhelming but in general was just incredible and amazing. For example a 10 k motorcycle to visit a school would likely reward me with a view of the savannah, baboons, monkeys, eagles, herons, vultures, donkeys, horses, sheep, goats, cattle, police check point, army check point, tarmac, gravel and sandy surfaces and even then I might only be half way – I hope you can see how it can all get overwhelming. Stopping the bike in middle of the bush and just sitting – absolute silence only broken by the cry of some unknown bird – amazing. There were many “I don't believe I am really here” moments.




I know when we get home many of you will ask “was it worth it?” This is a question we repeatedly ask ourselves, and the answer once varied from day to day but of late we have felt more positive. I should like to split the question into two parts; was it worth it for us? Was it worth it for the Gambia? The first is easy to answer now – YES. It was worth it because how can you not have learned from such an experience? We come back richer people in every sense except the financial one. The second is so much more difficult but, as I often do, I fall back on my “haven't made things worse” position. I don't believe much in “neutrality” it often seems an untenable position to me and in terms of relationships – which is what we have had with The Gambia - I think they are either positive or negative, never neutral. So I think and hope our relationship with this country, these people, our colleagues, neighbours and friends has been positive, the smiles seem genuine and are huge.


In terms of what we came here to do there is precious little to show, quite how we managed to spend the best part of a year without finding out our job I still don't know. However in our defence there are some extenuating circumstances. For instance a training that I developed in April was approved locally in May and funding approval sent for – still waiting for that. And so it is that things happen, or not, as the case may be and the wheel turns round and round ever so slowly but with a certain style and grace that you can't fail to admire. Speaking of wheels I should like to add my Yamaha 100 AG to the list of things I shall miss (I have a feeling this list may grow). My trusty steed has been just that, aside from one or two punctures the bike has been faultless taking everything that The Gambian roads can serve up and coping wonderfully.


I cannot possibly write this reflection without a special mention for our visitors. Jo, our daughter and husband to be Lester visited in August and Maria came in October. Both visits were so important to us, they gave us something to look forward to, something to enjoy at the time and something to remember. A massive, huge, big, giant thank you to all of them for the love and kindness they showed us and for giving up some of their time and money to share a little of our time here with us. Another big, big thanks goes to the City of Cardiff and more particularly the schools that took part in the appeal that was organised by the Court School. The response was overwhelming and, for those who don't know, 232 KG of pencils, rubber, sharpeners etc. arrived here in late October and we have just finished getting them out to the children in the schools. Thanks to Peter Owen for all his hard work, without him none of it would have happened. And as if that wasn't enough the Court School also raised the money to send the goods and the best part of 900 pounds to donate to projects here – wow! The money has been well spent on nursery buildings, school gates and other really useful infrastructure projects. I know this is becoming an Oscar type speech but I also need to thank my daughter Jo for raising funds to build a new classroom, dressed as a crocodile she ran a 10k and the children in her school raised more than 500 pounds. Thanks to, to Lester whose contribution has provided fencing and a well at the gardens here on the island. I am sure I have forgotten someone so please forgive me if it is you. Suffice to say that you all deserve a big thank you for the support you have shown us in our stay here, we couldn't have done it without you.


I need here to put in a moment that has just happened. I am writing this at 10:30 Monday 29th November, I just had my jacket on to leave on a school visit when news came through to the office that a young female pregnant headteacher, has just died, along with her baby. The atmosphere in the office has changed and all plans for the day have been put on hold. The funeral will be today at 5pm and most people at the office will attend. Death is never far away here, I don't know the cause of death but it is likely that it wouldn't have happened in the UK or possibly even here had she been near the hospital in the Kombos and not posted up-country. This is the first time I have seen the people here so affected by the news of a death – I suppose the double tragedy and the fact that she was here, in the office, on a course last week makes the news all the more shocking.


A little now on our compound where we live and share our lives with our landlord and protector, Mulai, his wife Ma and the five children who are there presently. This number changes as none of the children are their own – it's all very Gambian, but at the moment we have two boys, Seedy (13) Mulai Junior (6) and three girls, Ndela (8) Jarre (14) and Isatou (15). The compound is such a lovely place with them all there and the sound of children laughing must be one of the finest. I should like to bottle it in fact and be able to take a dose whenever I feel the need. Mulai guided and supported us through the difficult first few weeks and he and the family will certainly be missed. We could not have hoped for a warmer reception than the one we have received all year there. For our part we buy food for them whenever we shop, a onion or two, an aubergine, a packet of biscuits, just small things but always very much appreciated. In return, aside from the friendship, we receive frozen drinks, peanuts, peanut butter, eggs, and anything else that they may have a small surplus of.


OK – examples of the “new” I referred to earlier I have had 2 more today. Eventually got out to two schools. At the first I was taken into the village to fix their solar water pump! Those of you familiar with my general technical incompetence will know the futility of this, me, a water pump engineer, well it's new. Then – whilst at my second school I had a call from someone in the office wanting to borrow my bike to do a 30k ride. I agreed and they lent me theirs to get home. What's new, well riding a motorbike with no brakes – how is that for a first?


More thanks now: To our children Jack, Hannah, Ruth and Jo who have just been amazing throughout the planning and the placement and who are working, as I write, on a huge banner to welcome us home; to our good friends, Graham and Ron for always encouraging, taking us to Gatwick at 2 in the morning and managing our bank account in our absence. To Duncan for looking after my bike, to Rob for looking after my car, to Kath Owen for the regular supply of lovely letters and presents, to Jesnie for her amazing weekly e-mails, to Dave (Jock) Morgan for keeping an eye on the house, to Luc and Pete Owen for looking after our garden, to Lyn Hyde for counting the sleeps, to Josh Hyde for his lovely e-mails and kindness – well look, you get the picture, we are but your representatives here, the part of the team that made the journey but a team nonetheless – thank you all. Thanks for the support you have all provided and for helping us realise just what wonderful friends and family we have – we are indeed lucky people. AND NEXT?????????






Bakary Darboe, VSO, PCTT, Region 5 Education Directorate, Central River Region, Janjangbureh, The Gambia, West Africa.