"Couleur Locale"

   Here the girls seem to have a hairdresser at home as they change style as often as I change ... dress ☺

   As my hair was growing, it was either cut them or try to blend in and get the local hair style. There it is in 2 hours tops, I changed head.... and got a lifting along the way what with the tension from the plats. Not sore I have to reassure, but quite tight and a surprising sensation too ! I also find it hard to slide the branches of my sunglasses in too lol ! ...  Not to mention how to rest of the head on the sofa or the bed. Finally, I like it very much and slept fine so it’s a big thumbs up !

   

   This may go quickly, but it’s all an art seeing as:

- Our hair don’t all have the same texture yet the hair dressers can finish a plat without needing an elastic, without anything, just by stopping to braid.

- My hair was too short so she had to add some extensions at the beginning of the plats.

- The nuances of colour need to be reproduced accurately, and well done, it was a success.

   In the 12m x 2m salon… there were 6 people, 3 of whom were doing… well nothing really! Ah wait, one of them was taking photos of the progress. The owner was supervising her (real) daughter who was platting and the 3^rd person was preparing the fine locks to add on. The hairdresser started from the back to give herself an idea of the length (top left)… “but I said short” “yes, no problem, we’ll cut it again later”. Then she does the top of the head, each time with an add-on (big photo) then, more add-ons during the platting. Once the head was finished, she put some stoppers at the end (made of fake hair… at least not my hair – bottom left), heated some water in which to soak the “stoppered” ends (bottom middle – soaking and towel-drying) which gave ringlets at the extremities. To finish, the owner made the lengths into chignons and … sowed the rest to make it hold.

   “So you didn’t cut” “No but you didn’t want them long so I just raised them” Ah yes, I hadn’t envisaged it from that angle! Well, I was still felt as if they were playing doll☺.

  And the result? Very different, surprising, but I like it. I’ll keep it like this then as they do, I’ll let it evolve as the days or weeks go by. The owner said that it holds 1 month and that I would be able to go for a swim without a problem. For the shampoo, you need to be delicate; I think that I’ll put it on a new sponge and dab it, then the heat will do the drying work.

Unexpected, gob-smacked they are !

 The meteorology is getting panic attacks ! -17˚ beg. of march in Ottawa, to reach 28˚ 2 weeks ago and finally fall again to -7˚ yesterday. Same for Europe; it has its mood swings !

  Here nothing so dramatic of course, although, yesterday it rained and the locals could not believe their eyes as it never rains in this season. Moreover, the first drops are expected late May only if not June.

  Oops, there will be few grumpy guests as they are kind of promised a guaranteed good weather. Well, today is an another day and it will only be a "souvenir". Plants must have be delighted and we'll see baobab leaves grow at sight of eyes LoL ! A good welcome dusting !

La Suite . . . C'est fini !

  After 2 months spent in a hotel suite, we at last got the apartment ... long story ! That one being not so fun, I got my painting hobby running that I had not done since ... last autumn in St Pierre. No woods for me though, I left the big surfaces, wood and metal to Omar who helps me in this refreshing.

   The light made me want fresh pastel colours, but wishing is not having here and getting the right colour was a challenge, the biggest though was finding a good quality paint though. What's the point having my "work of art" if it gets stained as soon as a "dirty paw" touches it ?

  I wanted some orange to give a warm feeling to the lounge. Not only did they only have 6 colours, but with the little colorant bottles, the orange looked pinkish salmony. Exit the orange ! Then, "Most certainly no emulsion" and I end up with a 10 kg pot of emulsion. Ooops ! Back to the shop for the painter boss, re-discussion and I get a new 10 kg of ... what I personally call emulsion considering it is not really washable. Well, I'll have to do with what's on the market after all. I also settled for some pink instead of orange.

  All over the hotel, lamps shades, cushions or decorative bands on the beds are made with the same nice material and considering the sofas were stained, this material seemed the perfect solution. Incredible, the craftman did the job in 2 days and it is perfectly done.

   I am not an egg shell colour person as it never looks neat. So we chose brilliant white. I wanted to add a dash of colour and as they already had some red in the hotel I went for it .... well, Omar did it on the doors (middle and top left). Arrgh ! It was horrible, violent kind of dried blood, I simply hated it ... Omar and Pascal too so we quickly recreated a pink and redid it fast. Now we have to get equipment in that beautiful kitchen as there is virtually nothing. No Téfal, nor mascarpone in the 3 shops we went to. It is one thing to go "shopping" as a holiday maker when you want shampoo or sun-cream lotion, but it is an another story when you leave here and wish for a decent frying pan that is not going to scratch after only 5 uses. I think we'll have to have a talk with the other expats to know more about what to find or not, and where. I am dreaming of my thai green curry followed by a tiramisù. Hum, it makes me hungry !

  The bedroom, well it's the room people talk about it seems as I had great fun in it and they were not used to seeing this style of paint. 

   The low tack tape was so low tack that I struggled to keep it on the wall and it was impossible to prepare it too far in advance or I'd find it on the floor, and have you ever tried to separate tangled tape ? ... good luck to you then. Not an option for me ☺.

  The pink done, I went on to the yellow then the blue. Unfortunately, after the first layer on the bedroom walls, Omar realised he would not have enough and would need to buy some more, and... yes you guessed I am sure. New pot, meant new paint. How they end up every time with a different quality, don't ask ! That one was in the end for the best as it was an even better quality, but the dosage of the coloring did not match my lines exactly so I had to start all over again Arrgh ! At last a washable paint, cautiously still !

   I also went shopping with Awa (Head housekeeper) to choose curtains that would occult any light at night. At first sight I loved it and knew immediately which one I'd take. The hotel tailors did all of it, curtains, cushions, throw, lampshade. It looks great, I just love it and I am very proud of a good job done ! Thanks guys, I spent 3 weeks having fun. 

   Now only the spare bedroom is left, and I gave it a thought and have started to have fun there too. I'll do it in my own time once or twice a week so it should be ready in a few weeks. Are you inspired by bubbles ? ;)

   Now it is about time I resume my morning walks on the beach. 6 km power walking, a pinch of yoga, a dose of pilates,a few press ups and there, I am ready for a day full of energy.

On tuesday I go to school

   Today’s story starts with our meeting Jonathan during one of our boat outings in Kunta Kinteh. We chatted a while, then the following morning, I saw him again on the beach with his mother Joan. One thing leads to another and she explains that she’s at her 13^th stay and that she collects funds in England to give to Methodist schools. This year, they’re building a class in Brikama. Fascinating!

   An idea quickly forms in my head, the idea that ‘here is an entry into a school’. After having met the bishop, followed by his replacement as he was on his way out, I was put into contact with Ruth.

   Ruth, who is Northern Irish, is a headmistress on standby who had been there for 3 years to work in local Methodist schools. We visited the ones in Banjul so that I could make my mind up about which to go to. We went to a governmental lower basic school, two private schools (4-6 years and 7/14 years) then two nurseries. The first will be the “right one,” not the best because there isn’t any best or worst one, but it’s a government school that has a high number of students per class. That’s where I decided that I wanted to lend a hand once a week.

  

   Albion Lower Basic School is a government school located 15 minutes walking distance from the hotel, in a road exiting onto 22^nd July Square in Banjul. 669 children attend 15 classes there… have you worked it out? It’s an average of 45 students per class, which is the maximum number as per governmental aims… and most probably the minimum for this type of school. 

   The two ‘grade one’ classes each have 46 students and the two ‘grade two’ each have 61. That means that in the older classes, there are usually only 30 to 35 students.

   School is compulsory, but poverty hampers parents’ efforts as some cannot afford the uniform and therefore don’t send their children. You will always see children in the streets during classtime. Each term in government schools costs 5 Dalasi (€6/£5/£6.50, the price of a small bread loaf) and the state, in theory, furnishes books, workbooks and pencils. This school is administered by the Methodist diocese which means that the government expects them to collect private funds. However, they don’t necessarily have as many books as there are children in the class. Thankfully, there are some benefactors, be they holiday makers who make a donation, people in countries (U.K.) who then send the goods by container, local companies who contribute with book photocopies or other services.

   I chose to help with a ‘Grade One’ class. The youngest are six and the oldest, eight. Some have been to nursery but for a good few, this is their first experience of school. Eight tribes are represented here, which means eight different languages (as well as “others”), but in the first two years there are “only” Mandingo, Wollof, Pular, Jola and Serere tribeschildren. The Sarahule, Manjago or Balanta are only in minute numbers in the older classes. Most children speak at least Wollof if not also Mandinka. On that front, the teachers are pros.  

   As for me ? Well, I try for the basic words which amuses them. It’s not enough to learn a word; you also have to know which language it’s from. As I often help in maths where they count, one of the first words I learnt here was “niatala” which means “how much/many?”

   The deprivation in the classes was a great surprise to me. There’s the strict minimum and then again… The kids keep their backpacks because they have nowhere else to put them. Progressively, I try to make them comprehend that the table is there to be worked on and is neither a writing surface, nor a makeshift drum for pencils, nor a bench on which to sit on, nor a place to stow your bag, nor even a place to walk on.

   These kids are cute and I take great pleasure in helping them with their maths or English. The teacher loves it when I pay a visit and I become the scribe on the blackboard as she says that I draw better than she does. Yep, I’m the one who ends up drawing “nak” (cow), “bé” (goat), “mousse” (cat), “pitcher” (bird), ganar (hen), “mam” (donkey), and “hadj” (dog). I remember these words phonetically and try to improve as I don’t understand them necessarily very well on the first try so there may still be some errors.

   For lunch, each child brings D 3 (€0.05/£0.04/$0.06) every day. Those without money should in theory get nothing but of course there’s a strong sense of solidarity and an effort is made to share as much as they can. A rare few arrive with a piece of bread at school that they try to hide in order to eat it in class (albeit with a clumsy stealth). At around 11h30, though more like 11h50, the children go out, clean their hands at the outside tap, and queue up (bottom left) to receive a platter on which will be served rice with vegetable sauce. Then, a small group goes to sit on the ground around the platter to eat (bottom right).

   Class starts again 30 minutes later and finishes at 14h. The teachers stay longer as there are children who have support. All are gone by 16h. From 9h to 12h on a Tuesday, it’s my routine and I’m even invited to return during the week if I want to, as the teacher loves it as well.

   I even had my claim to fame on TripAdvisor as a person who had given provision (pencils, workbooks, felt-tip pens and regular pens) had written down a nice couple of words. Last Thursday again, I brought a couple who was welcomed by a deputy director and the head of teachers who were very happy to receive some school provisions. Now, each class will at least have a pencil sharpener as it’s quite frightening to see 6 year-old kids shaving their pencils with razors!

Cadeau !

  In Bijilo, at the entrance of the forest is a painter whose paintings attracted me. I love his use of colours. He has a catalogue and you can chose from the designs that he makes and if he doesn’t have the one you want in stock, he’ll deliver it two days later at the hotel.  

  I was fascinated by this painting and its sunset scenes are also splendid. Well done, I’m taken !

Albert market, the heart of Banjul

   For my first contact with the hustle and bustle of the market, I accompanied Fanta, the Senegalese wife of the (French) pâtissier, and her son. We didn’t leave very early and didn’t run our way there seeing as she’s nearly 8 months pregnant and that El Hadji is a 19 month-old toddler, but it was a very nice introduction.

  Lonely Planet says that it’s the 4th interesting thing (out of 27) to do in Gambia so I can now tick that box. Did I mention that out of these 27, Victoria Hospital is in 5^th, the ferry terminal is in 9^th, 22^nd July Square is 13^th, a night club is 16^th, then from 22 onwards, there are snack-bars, restaurants and other CD and tape vendors. Quite a strange selection! If the town square where you live is good enough to make the ‘interesting attractions’ selection despite taking but a few minutes to visit, that means that we’ve nearly completed the tour of attractions to see or to do… in 2 months !!! OK, holidaymakers are only here for 1 or 2 weeks and are here mostly for the 100% guaranteed sun and heat, but all the same some are now on their 6^th, 13^th if not 20^th visit.

  I can’t wait to do the 3 that remain :)

     

  The Gambia is “enclosed” by Senegal. This means that the people are practically in the same tribes and use the same languages with similarly few linguistic nuances as would separate the Swiss and the French.

  It was great to be there with Fanta as she would ask the price and negotiate whilst I would listen in, observe and appreciate the process. She made me discover a strange fruit, the ‘sweet detar’ (detarium senegalense – top right). In a shell, this green and round fruit is rich in vitamin c and smells like what reminded me of sorrel… in taste as well actually. It has a large stone so you must remove the shell and suck the fibrous pulp. Someone here told me that it cleans teeth. You can make it into juice by leaving the fruit in water for a few hours to separate the then swollen pulp from the stone.

  Due to the heat, there are always water pouch vendors who sell them for D1 (€0.02/£0.02/$0.03 – bottom right). The plastic bag is widely used for everything and the big worry is that after use, people simply throw it negligently on the ground.

  To get to the market, you must take narrow alleyways through which a path must be frayed. We started on the food side with much produce (spices, smoked and unsmoked fish, fruit etc) on a tarp or on plastic, even on the ground. Life is very interesting in this den and it’s very interesting to observe the circus of people who sell, who buy or who walk around.

  A guy was even carrying around a bunch of planks with jutting nails (top right). Mind your head those in front… behind… and even on the sides in case he decides to turn!!!

  Further on, we run into sculptors who work ‘live’, which is fascinating to see. For photos, you have to ask. Most will say “yes,” some “no,” especially in the weavers quarter (middle right), and some “do you have money?” (especially in the weavers quarter!!!). In this quarter, there’s a huge roofed courtyard with concrete stands where the workers each have their small location next to one another. You can’t imagine the number of weavers that there are in this market. They’re here in their hundreds, as well as a large number in their own little 2m x 3m boutiques in which you can sometimes see 4 tables or more with sewing machines.

  When you go deeper into the alleyways, you reach handcraft boutiques. The people kind of all sell the same thing, but the craftsmanship is rich all the same. The cloth bags are very popular. What I found pleasing is that many are real craftsmen and not only resellers. They paint, sew their bags, craft bracelets or leather shoes in front of your eyes. You can easily find your joy in this charming market.

  One point however; it’s a good idea to go there with company otherwise, as is the case on the beaches, you will be constantly approached which is annoying after a while. The guides in yellow know the area very well and are an information mine which is a plus that you wouldn’t find on your own (D250 for the morning, €6.35/£5.30/$8.30). They will take you to each nook and cranny if you so wish.

  On the way there from the Atlantic Hotel, go via the main road, but come back through the beach. It only takes a quarter of an hour to twenty minutes to get there so it’s not too far away. Even if you’re pressed for time, you can easily get there and back whilst having a good look around.

52 : The number of the day.

  Or rather last Tuesday's figure (March the 6th) 

  Incredible when you think about it, we had 35˚ (even more in the sun) and our Anton-E was at -17˚. 52˚ apart can you imagine that !

   ... Doing crosswords, I encountered some surprises ...

... and I thought about you so much ☺

Nature has some offers

   In Juffureh, I bought a loofah and have used it several times already. You should always dampen it first unless you want a cheese-grater effect. I wanted some more and seeing as the guys go there 2 or 3 times a week, we asked Sulayman to go buy some for us. The thing is, I’ve been to the market 3 times and haven’t spotted any, which doesn’t necessarily mean that they don’t sell them.

   3 days later, Sulayman came back with a very light bag filled with … dried “cucumbers”. Taking it, I heard a noise inside. Could it be a local musical instrument ? Nope, it’s the cucurbitaceae which is eaten when still green but is removed of its skin when dry to become the loofah that we buy at high prices in beauty product shops. Here, they just go and pick them in the bush. It appears in the shape of a liana and due to the fact that there is a huge quantity of seeds in each, I went to sow some in the adjacent land which doesn’t have a use at the moment. If the birds don’t eat all the seeds, perhaps the wet season will grow loofas in “my” garden☺

At the start there is "Roots"

  Once upon a time, there was a Polish man who had a boat. This long distance captain left his beautiful lands, skirted the European coasts, surmounting very bad weather in the Channel, sailed down the African coast and arrived in 40 days at Banjul “Bay”. His project quickly started up with the help of a tour operator who filled the boat with passengers and the Laico Atlantic who filled the passengers’ plates and glasses. Beautiful boat, the most beautiful as a matter of fact with a stability that stops the boat from pitching… and which is the envy of the competition with their older chuggers.

     Chef Ousman, top left, Sullayman, waiter, top right. Pascal goes onto the pirogue to Kunta Kinteh Island.

  We were part of the first ‘inaugural’ sortie and it’s a great ‘well done’ to everyone, the boat’s team, the tour operators and most of all the chefs and waiters who were all smiles and enthusiasm. The boat is well equipped; I see there’s even a market for Allaman Chaudronnerie with some safety rafts in their trademark orange. Hey guys, you already have the colours in stock, all you have to do now is to pitch to the ship owners☺

  We left Banjul near 9 a.m. and navigated up the Gambia river for about 2 hours to reach Albreda/Juffureh. A peaceful and tranquil ride with a bit of reading on the upper bridge. La vita è bella!

  We’re going to visit the village of Albreda/Juffureh from which comes the main character of ‘Roots: The Saga of an American Family’, the famous novel by Alex Hayley. The book, based on the story of slavery made into a novel, tells the story of Kunta Kinteh, born into a Mandinka family. As a youth, he is captured by two colonists and two Africans as he goes to pick up some wood. They make him a prisoner, mark him with a red-hot iron and send him to America on a slave ship. Having arrived in Maryland, he’s sold to a planter who calls him Toby Reyynolds. Hayley then tells his and his family’s story.

  The village has a statue which commemorates that sad age of slavery inscribed with “never again.” Every 2 years in February, there are celebrations which bring together many descendants who come primarily from America and the Caribbean. The next one will be in 2013. Albreda/Juffureh was occupied by the French for close to two centuries and it’s the first location where Europeans settled in Western Africa for the slave trade.

     Kunta Kinteh Island, scale model of a slave ship (un négrier).     

  Commerce with Africa, which was primarily done through the desert, evolved in the 15^th century with the exploration of the western coasts by Europeans. The slave trade exploded with the need to fill the new American colonies with labour for sugar, cotton and tobacco plantations.

   James Island, a “rock” in the middle of the river, close to Juffureh, was in British hands for 300 years. First and foremost a strategic outpost for the control of the river, it also served as a holding area for slaves. On this small island, there was a fort which the French destroyed in 1778. Despite this, the English continued the trade of Juffureh. They abolished slavery in 1807, but it’s after this period that the most traffic occurred up until 1870.

  There only remain a few ruins of the old fort. The English abandoned James Island in 1816, opting to go to St Mary Island where they built Bathurst (Banjul).

  The island was rechristened Kunta Kinteh in 2011.

   We went for a walk in the Juffureh village where life carries on its course (bottom) but which follows the rhythm of holidaymakers’ visits which is their golden-egged goose.

  By politeness and respect, you must go pay your respects to the village elders, descendents of Kunta (bottom left – Binta Kinteh is of the 7^th generation). The title of village chief “Adja” is given to the elder of the chief family and can be a man or a woman, but if the person does not do (incompetence or other reason), then there is the option to vote to choose the Adja. At the moment, it’s a woman, who is in charge of collecting taxes and resolving eventual conflicts.

  Here and there, people start to crush the rice as you go by, waiting for a little banknote. This mercantile side of things isn’t the most agreeable it’s true, but on the other hand, it’s a way to survive for them. This way of life occurs in every village that you drive through in your car, no need to find yourself lost in the middle of nowhere, to see people drawing water from wells or crush grains, it’s still the way of life for the majority of people.

  Everyone is free and the handcraft is interesting and not very expensive. A 70 cm sculpted giraffe is about D250 (About €6/£5/$8) and the guy does his work “live”. The children sell fruit offered by nature worked or not (top – calabash, loofah…).

  We discovered a good piece of history and they use a famous saying which says: “We can forgive, it does not mean we forget”.