A night out...

If you know me you probably know that I really don't like going out, smoke, loud noise, big crowds, all of it tends to rub me the wrong way. However, sometimes dealing with all of this has its rewards. Last night we got home from a dinner function and we were asked to come out for a glass of wine with some of our friends one of which is also the former Deputy British High Commissioner and now GM of a local high end resort Ngala Lodge. After a couple glasses of wine in the open air restauraunt overlooking the ocean we went into the more touristy area to another outdoor bar The Green Mamba we had a couple rounds with the owner of the place, who we actually saw last week on our boat trip. He was actually shooting a worldwide fishing series with National Geographic when we saw him out on the river. Well after talking for a few minutes it came out that I brew beer and it just so happens he has a microbrewery system on its way from Germany and he essentially offered me the Brewmaster job on the spot. We also met some people from, Germany, Denmark, and St. Lucia. This place is an interesting melting pot of culture and personalities, strange considering its one of the smallest, poorest, and least developed countries in the world. We shall see if the microbrewery is fact or fiction.

What the???

Apparently there is some kind of Ant in this country that when it bites you this happens to you. Not painful just ugly. This was aquired while playing golf the day before.

Marine Ball

Most American Embassies have a small detachment of Marine Guards and part of Embassy tradition is to attend the annual Marine Ball. This is one of the fanciest Military Gala events I can think of or have attended. Dakar, Senegal was the closest post that was hosting the ball, which is a long days drive North up the coast. We decided to rent a bus to make it easier and more fun, we rented a little bus that can probably seat 20 people under normal conditions, 50 in Africa with another half dozen on the roof, so the 7 of us were fairly comfortable and there was room left for the beer and food coolers. Its less than 200 miles but on average it takes 8-12 hours. We spent more of the drive going up the dirt shoulder dodging goats than on the road. The next morning we left the hotel and made it about a mile before realizing we had a flat tire. I helped the driver remove the tire and rolled the big flat bus tire down the highway looking for a repair shop, an hour later we were on our way again. 5 hours later we made it to our destination (which was only supposed to be 2 hours away). It was one of the most beautiful hotels we have stayed in with a massive indoor hot tub the size of a swimming pool, complete with a waterfall and 3 seperate cascading hot pools for soaking, including a great outdoor pool and bar. The trip home we were stopped by some completely corrupt Senegalese cops who were trying to extort money from us for according to them; Expired license plates (no expiration on Gambian plates) Expired drivers license (actually didnt expire for another 3 months) Trying to flee the scene of arrest (we were in a big bus and had to find room to pull over among the other dozen victims that were pulled over) and speeding (we had just turned out of the hotel area, still in first gear). Over and hour later we were released after paying the fine, and a mile later forced of the road by the same cops who were irrate becuase the driver pulled a fast one and slipped away with some paperwork that could have got them fired. Kudos to him!! We spent the fairy ride on top of the bus enjoying beer and pipes and a great view as we motored slowly accross the wide mouth of the river into Banjul.

She's gone.

It was a bittersweet fairwell seeing my Unicorn, my Mistress and the bane of my existance for 5 months drive off into the distance. After having the engine completely rebuilt for the 3rd time, leaks forming where brand new seals where installed and the mechanic telling me he would not trust it for any length of time and made me sign a waiver releasing him of any guarantee of work. How is that for peace of mind. So I drove it from the repair shop to the busiest intersection adorned with For Sale signs. I was able to sell it in about 2 weeks at a bit of a loss but but I could not take the constant repairs. I have to say that in the few weeks it actually did run it was without a doubt one of the best 4x4s I have ever had, which is saying something. We were able to find a little Mistubishi Pajero which is actually older but in MUCH better condition and we are very happy to have a reliable truck now.

The Flock Grows

One of the interesting things about Africa is that pretty much anything is for sale, depending on the day or even time of day. We were on our way home from the boat trip when we saw a small group of domestic ducks along the side of the road. We had been looking for some ducks to keep Thor and Moose and three the chickens company. So we sat there in the car for a few second looking at this group of duck untill someone came to talk to us. We asked if they were for sale (silly question, refer back to the first sentence) So we followed this guy up the road to meet his brother, 30 minutes of bartering and I landed us a healthy male and female duck for less than $20, bring on the ducklings and eggs. hopefully.. A short car ride home on the floor at Nikki's feet and they were home. However, getting them out of the car was not as peacefull, we each grabbed a duck and they began squirting poop like an adolencent cut loose with an overfull squeezable ketchup bottle. All over the floor of the truck, our clothes and a steady stream accross the pavement to the front gate. Inside safe and Thor is intrigued. 24 hours later they are still happy and healthy.

Boat Trip

It has been too long since I have posted. So in an effort to recall the last month I am going to start with the most recent and work backward.

Yesterday we took the embassy boat out to head up river for the day. So the embassy boat is an escape vessel for the embassy staff in an Emergency. Its about a 25ft open top boat with twin 225hp on the back, in short it HAULS A$$ especially when all the other boats are big wooden canoe looking things with trolling motors. We did a little fishing first, then went out and opened it up. Our friend Josh and I stayed on the Bow as we rocketed and skipped accross the four foot swells. About about 20 minutes of being airborn and slamming back down onto the hard fiberglass deck we threw in the towel and moved to the back. We made it to our destination, which was the site of the "Roots" story. Kutah Kinteh was from The Gambia, we visited the village of Juffreh and the adjacent Fort James Island. The Island was tiny, and its where they kept the captured slaves untill they could be loaded onto the boats, we actually found a dozen or so beads on the beach that were worn by the captured women hundreds of years ago. 

Local Brew revisited.

 

 

 First I malted the millet with a series of soaking and drying.

 Then we pounded the millet and corn in a genuine african pounder.

 Boiled and sparged with the addition of a good bit of local made honey.

Fermented in a local cooking oil container that I fashioned into a fermenter.

 End product is a relatively palatable beer concidering I really have no clue what I am doing. Crisp lightly malty flavor with a little hoppy bitterness from the leftover yeast I used (the ONLY imported product) as I am still working out how to do natural yeast culturing. Only about 2% alcohol which is typical of this type of beer and brewing technique.

Status Quo

Just to update some curiosities. The chickens are doing great. All three are laying eggs almost daily and they have established a working pecking order (literal use of the term) that has been interesting to watch evolve. Most days they come calling for breakfast around 7am and I find them in the grass waiting somewhat patiently. Yesterday they were making quite the ruckus, it looked like they had been saving up poop for a week and let it all loose in the laundry room. I found them perched up on the railing of the Gazeebo and sitting in the lounge chair obviously put off by something. I turned around to see this monster next to the back door, no idea where it came from or how it got in the compound but moose was very curious and I was perplexed as we are nearly a mile from the beach.

Life Lesson

When a mechanic says he can fix anything on your car but the only tools you ever see are a hammer and a giant metal stake. Turn around and don't look back. My initial high esteem of dirt lot African mechanics may have been ill placed. The truck is now at a real Land Rover repair shop having the engine rebuilt for the THIRD time in as many months. I had to finish the air conditioning install myself and fork out more money to fix broken pipes and wiring the last guy did that could have easily burned the truck to the ground. Expensive lesson learned; do it the right way, not the cheap way, because in the end the former turns out to be the latter.

Post Concert Debacle

The concert finished a little before 1am and we headed for the truck. Before we even got to the car I had a feeling something was wrong as my driver side door was ajar. A couple days earlier someone got into the truck and stole a cheap little pair of binoculars and tried to get away with our crappy cassette player but was either spotted or gave up. The Stereo was attached and hanging out of the dash like an eyeball dangling from its socket. I expected them to have finished the job this time making off with the stereo and our hand-me-down collection of beat up 80s rock band tapes. Everything seemed in order till the key went in the ignition, nothing happened...I was beyond irrate, I was seething as I immediately knew some jackass had stolen my brand new battery. If the so-called guard had walked up at that moment there would have been an international incident, because I would have knocked both of his teeth out. We caught a ride home with a friend and I sat on the couch fuming with a glass of scotch watching the end of the Ice Age cartoon. Finally at about 2:30am I couldnt take it anymore as visions of getting to the truck in the morning and finding it gutted and stripped to the frame danced in my head. I told Nikki I was going to bring her home one way or another, tonight. I went out back and found an old battery still connected to what was left of our antique generator, disconnected it and started walking the mile or so back the truck. About half way there I was able to flag down a cab making sure he had jumper cables. Battery in, started right up and brought her home.

Local Music

 

Last week we attended a local music concert. It was a percussive experience to remember. It started with 20 people in a semi-circle from 3 different tribes. The announcer said we could easily tell them apart by their drums (not so much, they were all identical to me). They used plain old tree twigs about 18 inches long and their hands to beat the drums hanging at their sides. The drum leader completely shredded 4 drum twigs in the course of the concert. The impressive part was the absolute and complete synchronicity of the playing, it was not a random or ill prepared performance by novice beaters. 20 people beating as if they were 1, perfect..They had an impressive amplifier system hooked up so your guts vibrated, and I couldnt help get goosebumps the first few minutes despite the fact it was still almost 90 degrees at 10pm. They also did alternating sets with many of the local and traditional instruments such as the Kora which is a really tall string instrument carved from a gourd and sports 21 strings. During these instrumental sets they had some female singers, one of which had a voice that could have been used to torture information out of Bin Laden. There was some VERY energetic dancing that if I had attempted it I would have broken both my legs. One of the dancers was a wirey old dude that immediately made me think of Yoda. There were some oddities that took place; its customary to go up on stage and tip the performers (while they are performing) so throughout the concert people are going and handing the performers money. Some lingered there dancing with backs to the audience, others stayed up to chat as they continued performing. The experince was well worth it and we finally got to hear local music.

Football Comes to Gambia

I invited Modou to the beach to teach him a litte about American Football, you have to specify "American Football" as what we call Soccer is actually Football everywhere in the world but the USA.  Gambians have no sports at all that involves throwing anything. Mo has never even see football played on tv. We spent about an hour on the beach with the waves crashing at our knees learning the basics of how to hold and throw the ball. The progression went something like this: Gripping the ball and heaving into the air like its a 16lb shotput, then tossing it like you are throwing a roundhouse haymaker punch. He eventually began to figure out the mechanics of it and resembled a teenage girl learning to throw a ball for the first time. All the while he had this expression on his face like he is trying to do long division in his head with his tongue hanging out to one side as he concentrates on which foot to step with. He has surprisingly good hands and is able to catch the ball as if it were velcro. After the first hour, every third toss actually had some spin and distance on it and his face would erupt into a huge grin. Not long after that we were throwing each other simple pass routes untill the fat Toubab was soaked and out of breath. He was very excited to learn the game and cant wait to try again next week.

Africa Hot..

So yes there is substance to the term Its Africa Hot.  The day before yesterday I was inside working on some homework when I heard a loud explosion BANG!!! I made me jump out of my seat and I began running scenarios through my head of what it could have been; the compound wall collapsed, the roof caved in, someone was hunting ducks in the back yard?? I got outside and Sang was also looking around to see what it was, then he pointed to something flat and black laying against the compound wall. It was my spare tire cover and one side of hit had a whole ripped in it. We turned around to see the spare tire sitting on the back of my truck 30 feet away had exploded. A shredded wound of heavy rubber and steel belting big enough to put my fist into. Yes, it was from the heat. I was curious so I took my little desktop thermometer outside to set it on the table. 109 degrees F and the internet said the humidity has been between 60-100% for weeks now. Now thats Africa Hot.

Close Encounters

Last weekend Nikki and I decided to try out a sport neither of us has played for quite some time. Tennis, there are a couple courts at the Fajara Club where I have been playing golf. There is also a very refreshing pool and a bar right next to the courts for when you finish playing in 105 degree heat, near death and in danger of melting into the concrete court like Dorothy's Foe. I got up from relaxing in my poolside chair after taking a dip, Nikki had just left for the ladies room when I heard something. Pit Patter, Pit PAtter, Pit PATter, Pit PATTer getting closer and louder as if a huge wet Labrador retriever puppy was galloping up to pounce on me. I turned just in time to see a large monkey (about the size of the dog I imagined)about a foot behind me sauntering past at a bit of a four legged jog, his 4 foot tail trailing behind him just barely missed grazing my butt. I watched as he effortlessly jumped up a tree for a little nibble on something then continued through the yard to the 10 foot concrete wall which it cleared in one fluid move with not so much as a hesitation. Nikki came out seconds later disappointed to hear the news as she has yet to see a monkey outside the Bijilo monkey park.

Today I went for a bike ride which some say is a death wish around here, I think of it more of a practice in anticipatory planning and reaction time. So I am cranking along doing about 15-20 MPH down one of 3 paved roads in the area, when I glance over to see the grass along side me about 12 feet away being mowed down and flattened by something fairly big. It was fast too, keeping pace with me even through the grass. I thought to myself if this pans out like my last encounter with wildlife while mountain biking (Squirrel Pancake!!) I might be the one in the dirt counting stars in broad daylight collecting my teeth off the ground. Me and the unseen monster were neck and neck for about a 100ft when SWISH the grass path darted in my direction OH SH#@ CROCODILE!!!! Then as I stood up looking back while still coasting down the road I realized it wasn't a Croc but a hulking 6 foot Monitor Lizard that had bolted across the road just a few feet behind my back tire..It was AWESOME!!

The Rug

***Yes, this is Nikki's first "official" post since Mitch has started writing this blog***

Three months ago, when we moved to The Gambia,  I started work in an office building that was under-going serious renovations. My staff had been in the same office building for over twenty years, they had out grown the space: it was dilapidated, dirty, and well, embarrassing. In the past ninety days we've had walls torn down, offices relocated, floors retiled, bathrooms remodeled, entry ways and patios constructed, and the entire building painted. Not long ago I was able to see the light at the end of our narrow construction tunnel and I decided that to put the final "beautifying" touches on the office building, I would order a large ornate rug to put in the office lobby.

The rug was delivered to my office today. I was ecstatic, it was perfect. Lush colors, great graphics, like nothing you could find here, it was going to look fantastic in our lobby! Proudly, I took it around the office, showing it to all my staff. They were very impressed, but they asked what I was going to do with it. "Well, it's a rug, I'm going to put it in the lobby, it will look very nice there." Everyone looked at me dubiously and one of them said, "but it will get dirty." Um, yes, but it is a rug, that is ultimately it's purpose. Once this conversation started there was no going back, it was like the little snowball that starts a huge avalanche. Ten staff members looked on at me and fiercely protested my placement of the rug on the floor. They picked it up and told me that hanging it on the wall would be a much better use of this beautiful piece of artwork. Clearly, they did not understand the purpose of a rug! (I could've spent $5 and had a wall tapestry made!)

After much back and forth, my staff decided that they would allow me to put the rug on the floor, with one condition: it had to be covered by plastic. I still thought that defeated the purpose of a rug and made it ugly, so I said, "let's leave it on the floor for now and see how dirty it gets." At that point I probably shouldn't have headed back up to my office, because 10 minutes later I was told that no one saw things the way I did, and since we were unable to agree on what to do with the rug, it had been "put away".

The rug is now sitting in a storage room, where it won't get dirty, awaiting the day when the rainy season ends and when our newly constructed walls can hold the weight of a 50 lbs. decorative rug. Lesson learned: if you ever want something to be used for a functional purpose in Africa, make sure that it doesn't look nice (let's just hope this doesn't apply to office buildings).

Palm Oil

If you ever wondered where palm oil comes from here is the quick and dirty.

It starts as a cluster of red almond size beans between the stock and leaf of an Oil Palm Tree that is hacked off with a machete by a guy named Sang.

 Then its dried for a couple days which allows it to be shucked from the cluster. By a guy named Sang..

Once cleaned you have a bucket of little red beans. 

 The beans are dried then boiled, then dried again, then pounded, then boiled again and strained to get the precious oil separated from the pulp. Class dismissed.

First Attempt

I think its millet
 

I discovered that the small grain that I feed the chickens, sprouted 3 days after being placed in a little basket that I fashioned to be a bird feeder. This got me to thinking, which can be dangerous under the right motivation, Nikki can attest. The epiphany cloud formed overhead... This is a grain of some sort, grain is the main ingredient in BEER. Hmmmm...After a little internet search I found out I had actually completed the first step of Malting, purely by accident. Oh yeah!! Now this could get interesting, being the green minded soul that I am and don't forget the blog title. I have set out to create a purely local brew from supplies I can find at the local market. As with most great discoveries controlled replication can be difficult (watch The Medicine Man with Sean Connery and you will know my frustration). I immediately went to the market and bought 10 pounds of the mystery grain. I then soaked it for 3 days in water, seemed logical. Then I put it outside to get some sun and heat, again logical right? That is where is started to go downhill, I think It started to decompose. 2 days in the heat after 2 days soaked in water I decided to try and dry it out since there was no sprouting going on. So yesterday afternoon I spread it out like frosting on the plastic picnic table outside. Well last night we got an unexpected rain storm, and this morning all three chickens were at an all you can eat buffet. Thats fine, Ill try to salvage whats left, at this point the stench pretty much covers the entire back yard. Not to mention that it feels like a dung heap as the foul sludge that I created is obviously irresistable to flies. Sang helped me fix the table to drain off the nasty slime that was not drying out at all. Finally, this afternoon I couldnt imagine drinking whatever the result of this toxic ooze was so I scattered it for the birds. This weekend is attempt number 2.  On a good note, Nikki and I bottled our good ole american IPA on Monday so we are a week away from bliss.

Hello there..

I have to write about this one because it is one of the most amusing and frustrating things about this culture. In the United States if you go somewhere to get a car part or groceries or whatever, you generally just say; Hello, I am looking for this. Not here...In The Gambia if you go to get any item the exchange generally goes like this (Not Exaggerating):

Me: Hello, how are you?
Them: I am fine thank you, how are you?
Me: I'm good, do you ha...
Them: How are you?
Me: Yes, I'm fine. Do yo...
Them: Hows the work?
Me: I'm not working yet, I am going to University.

This generally continues for a few more minutes before we can get down to business. And if I have ever been to the store/garage/mud pit with Thor then they ask how he is doing and so on and so forth. Now, let's say I have to go get something out of the car to show them what I need since verbal communication can be a nightmare, even for locals. Then when I return a few seconds later the greetings start over...good grief no wonder it takes forever to get anything done here.

Gambian Time: If you need to get something done and are supposed to meet soemone to do it.
 "First thing early in the morning when I wake up" means around 11am but don't expect me to get there until around 1pm then lunch at 3pm followed by tea (Attaya) every 30 minutes after then at about 5pm it's time to go home. But when they do work, they WORK. In addition to the chop shop guys, we saw a group of 3 or 4 guys digging a perfectly straight trench 4 feet deep for probably 300 yards in 3 days. Using only pick axes. Yin and Yang I guess.

Bill Engval would be out of breath..

Gambians are masters of the obvious. Apparently it is part of their culture to point these things out, whether it's to be social or just kill time, I am not sure. So many times I have wanted to pull a "here's your sign" moment but I know it would probably come across as just being an ass. I dont think Blue Collar comedy is piped in over Arabic channels very often.

For instance, last week I was walking home from Nikki's office in a torrential downpour, I was completely and utterly soaked, water pouring off my head, my clothes weighed about 30 pounds, shoes squishing with every step. I walk in the front gate and Sang calls out from the little guard shack where he is making tea; "Get Wet??" Um no, not at all....Or if you get back from running an errand, or even just to the bathroom you will get: "You are back???" I hear that one about 50 times a day. The mechanic I have helping me with the truck has been over a few times to do some repairs, when I handed him his payment he simply says: "This is for me??" Yesterday, I couldn't help myself, I responded with, "No thats for me, give it back." He laughed and pocketed the money. Late last night I had to get something out of the truck, it was raining, I was barefoot and wearing nothing but gym shorts. I closed the car door and turned around to see the night guard standing there with his billy club at his side and he asked: "You are going out??" Uh, no. thanks though.

Flew the Coop?

Monday evening I asked Sang to pick us up another chicken on his way to our house the following day. I was hoping to get a bit of a boost in our egg production as it had been nil for nearly 2 weeks. A good laying hen will cost between 180-200 dalasi, roughly $6 US. I went out to feed the "flock" Tuesday morning and noticed my "flock" consisted of one bird. Somehow the newest chicken seemed to be enormous, as if she had absorbed the other bird who was now, nowhere to be found. I spent the next 30 minutes searching every nook and hideout she had used in the past. No luck. Shortly after my search party disbanned (me and Thor) Sang arrived with the new addition, here I was thinking that I was forcing attrition. My search party resumed for a second round. Still no luck, we were beginning to suspect Fowl play ;)  I went about my business, confused about the missing chicken, 15 minutes later Sang runs up to me with his usual huge smile; She's Out! She's Out! I am only half sure of what he said, so I followed to him to the yard where 3 hens wandered about. Excellent!! I continued to go about my business. And 5 minutes later, Sang appears again with his usual huge grin; Come see! Come See! I followed him into the yard and he parts a thick bunch of Lemon Grass to expose 11 perfect little eggs in a bowl of grass and soil. Clever little chicken. I called Nikki to let her know that the crisis was averted and she said, "I know, I heard". Sang was so excited about finding the chicken he had called up to the Peace Corps office and told the General Services Officer (who's name happens to be Sheriff) that the missing chicken had been located.

Sang the gardener

Its customary for US citizens working in the country to hire locals to work for them. The standard wage for them in these position is double what they would make working somewhere else, while not dirt cheap for us its very reasonable. We hired Sang to keep up the yard shortly after moving in, it was a proper African jungle and with my help we got it tamed and have a roaring garden to boot. We had a small manual reel mower that he was using to cut the grass for the last couple months. I went out earlier this week to find him hunched over cutting the lawn with the small hedge clippers (glorified scissors) he said the lawnmower was broken. So yet another mission ensued, turns out a small gas push mower runs between $500-1000 US dollars. Screw that, what else is there? Weed eater, sure why not; $300-500US dollars, never mind.. moving right along. Found a second hand shop that has all kinds of stuff, so being the bartering soul that I am I took an old printer down and traded it straight across for a little electric weed eater. Sang has never used one and he was like Tickle Me Elmo when we fired it up and went to work. Nikki and I have never met anyone like sang before. He reminds us of Steve Erkle with his pants pulled up high, bright green leprechaun hat, yellow sunglasses and sandals, and a little green backpack with charms hanging off of it. He is like a big puppy, I have yet to see him stop smiling and he laughs as if it is easier than breathing. Always very animated and walks with a bounce as if springs in his heels. He will drop whatever he is doing at any moment to run over and greet you, regardless of whether you have been gone all day or just went across the street for eggs.

Pieces of home..

We recieved the rest of our household shipment about 2 weeks ago which was great. Now it feels like a home. Yet something was missing, good beer....mmmmm. So I set out on another mission to aquire a mini fridge that I can ferment the nectar of the gods in and keep the temperature fairly stable. After a couple trips to Serekunda and LOTS of bargaining (because thats what i do) I drove off with the perfect setup and began brewing the very next day, which was also our housewarming BBQ but I couldnt wait any longer. As expected it didnt go very smoothly, many messes in the kitchen none of the water fittings were compatible to the cheap plumbing fixture here, but its done. A couple active yeast explosions later and we are on our way to good beer. As for Nikki she did some searching online and discovered that she could order her favorite crackers to go with our beer and cheese (by the case). She was pretty excited and we now have a couple more pieces of home. Anyone know of a hops variation that can grow near the equator im all ears.?

Golf in the Gambia

Went out Golfing with one of the top Embassy staff Saturday morning. This course is touted as one of the most extreme courses in the world. Since its the rainy season there is actual grass on the course, and this particular day it was cut. I guess the week prior sported shin high fairway grass. No matter Rick plays a similar game to myself and does not waste time with fairways the waist high rough is where the fun is. A caddie is required, as is a browns sweeper. Glad you asked..the Greens are called Browns here as they are oil sand putting surface. Beach sand mixed with used engine oil and presto you have a country club putting surface. So the brown sweeper is a tired but pleasant old dude with a small square mat attached to a rope, he gets to the brown before you hit on and grooms around the hole with his mat, then after you hit on he grooms a path to the hole from your ball. So Rick and I ended up with an enterauge during our round, two caddies, a brown-sweeper and after the second hole they brought over a ball spotter to stand  in the middle of each fairway to find our shots after they sailed into the trees. The caddies also carry fake grass mats to place your ball on upon request as the majority of the course is sand and stone. Watching your step is a must as the Vice Presidents well fed cattle free graze the course. We played about 15 of the holes in a pretty good rain storm which added to the whole experience.

Corn Hole comes to Africa

Being Red Blooded Americans we like our good ole American cookout games. I set out last week to make one of my favorite games, Corn hole. I found a little wooden shack carpenter who spoke just a little more english than I do Wolof. I came armed with a printed diagram of the board complete with all measurements very well labeled. To me it seemed very straight forward to me, two half boxes with a hole cut in each everything else is spelled out on the diagram. Well it took me about 40 minutes to explain to 2 people how to make it, completely drawing the diagram again, helping him draw the diagram again, then drawing the diagram on a piece of plywood. Many hand gestures and wooden puppetry ensued. Finally he says yes I can make it. So we go get supplies, fat bald toubab and little Gambian trotting across the busy Fajara highway carrying a bag of glue and nails and an 8 foot sheet of plywood. At this point I think people come outside when they see me coming to determine what the bloody hell I am up to this time. Next comes the bags. Yeah try explaining that one to an African tailor; Me: Hello, can you sew this fabric into 7 inch square bags so I can fill it with rice and seal it up to use in a game-- Her: (In very good english) I dont understand anything you are telling me, my english is not very good...Three sewing shops later, mission accomplished. Went to pick up the boards; holes were 3 inches too low, legs were 3 inches too short and on the wrong end. Oh well, I fixed the legs and Nikki and I painted them. This weekend its GAME ON..

A day in the life..

The good news is I am entirely recovered from the nastiness that plagued me, Nikki has also recovered fully without further issues. The following week and weekend I spent nearly 60 hours with a group of African mechanics. Two of them working on installing Air Conditioning and the other two helping me install replacement bushings into the suspension components. Both of these have proven to be trying tasks during the rainy season as nobody has covered or even paved work areas. When the rain came the boys told me to get in and stay dry and they would do the work they proceeded to strip off their shirts and get into the mud. Not how I do business, much to the bemusement of everyone around I followed suit. I was thoroughly spent, and caked in mud and grease everyday for the past week, eating only what and when they did and it was a great experience. I lost close to 15 pounds between the illness and working on the truck in other than ideal conditions for the past week. One of the most impressive feats that I have witnessed is that every single repair done on the truck in the past 2 months has been done ENTIRELY with hand tools. Not a drill, or angle grinder or any other power tool has crossed my sight. I watched 3 guys push a 10 passenger van into the dirt lot and completely dismantle the whole thing with hand tools some of which are home made, including chopping out the big metal side panels with a hammer and chisel in 2 days. All of it carted out on wheelbarrows where I am told its shipped to India to be melted and sold.

Ailments Continue..

We were told upon arrival to The Gambia that the risk of getting sick during the rainy season is higher. There is not much in the way of drainage or waste management or food handling practice. Well we got to experience this first hand. Late Saturday night I woke up with some stomach problems that aren't all that uncommon, I assumed it was what is known as Banjul Belly around here. Very severe bubble guts, nothing too severe with proper care. However, accompanied by severe vomiting and unable to take any water it got bad. After about 10 hours of misery battling this at home I checked myself into the clinic, on the verge of passing out from dehydration and weakness. 24 hours, 3 IV bags, and 2 rolls of toilet paper and numerous drugs later I was released with a prognosis of Salmonella. I get home to find out Nikki has Banjul Belly, needless to say most of the food in the fridge was tossed this morning, and we are on the mend. The cool part was that during my first ever night in a hospital I was visited by Senior staff from Peace Corps and the Embassy and Nikki of course was there to keep watch over me.

Home at last.

She is home as of last week. I was able to pull on my bargaining abilities to get her some new shoes from the local land rover monopoly of a parts dealer who I have given most of our savings to in order to get it running right. After a few days of tightening everything down as the inside sounded like a giant baby rattle while driving, and it flooded every time it rained, I dub thee Turtle. Slow and steady, green, always dirty, and did I mention slow. I am in the process of more trades and bargaining so new mods are coming. Even has a built in mister, if you open the front vents while driving in the rain you get a pleasant dirty mist. She gets compliments everywhere I go, I have a list of at least 8 people who want to buy it the minute we leave country. I LOVE IT..

The Chicken Mansion

In an effort to keep our chicken happy healthy and comfy to produce many eggs I went to great length to create a great home. The corrugate is what I raised eyebrows with carrying home in a thunderstorm a couple weeks ago. A bookshelf for nest boxes, cinder block supports and basket weaved walls. Its a pretty sweet poultry pad, and stood the test of some nasty storms the past couple week. We added another chicken to the family last week. They are both pretty vocal and on quiet afternoons and mornings, otherworldly noises can be heard as they roam the back yard. Even coming to the back door to peer inside and squawk at us through the glass. The new one seems to be healthy and bonded to Salt II already. Cross your fingers...

A Blossoming Brotherhood

Thor and Moose have been growing more accustomed to each other. Even half hearted attempts to play with each other.

Farafenni

We arrived at our hotel which I was informed was very nice. The driver Peter made sure we had rooms reserved that morning. Peter walked me down a dark sweltering hallway (no power) opened the door to a what he touted as the executive suite where many people are willing to pay double for the room. I don't know if Peter was playing a cruel joke or if he just doesn't like me. If I stand in the middle of the room and outstretch my arms I am only about a foot from touching all four walls. There is a tiny television that didn't work inches from a fan that was mounted below a bare light bulb. So with the fan and light on at the same time it created a wonderful nauseating strobe effect. I felt like if I sat down the walls would fall in on me. Peters room was twice the size of mine. So Thor and I went for our customary walkabout. Within second we had friends, a young boy was carrying around a baby baboon which he was willing to sell me for about $20, tempting but I had visions of Thor and Moose parts strewn across the yard once it got older and meaner. We also befriended a young man who called himself Spice, sporting a Rasta beanie cap and American flag Rayban sunglasses. He gave me and Thor a tour of his town for the next couple hours just like Mo did here in Fajara. Returned to the hotel, still no power, sweltering hot decided to go for a run. Here was a fat, bald Toubab soaked to the bone in sweat, weaving donkey carts and cattle on the road receiving looks like I was a one-eye one-horn giant purple people eater...Maybe the power is back on now...make it back to the room just before Hurricane Farafenni hits..hosed off and read under the strobe light for 2 hours till the power shut off again. On the verge of sleep the megaphone outside my window fires up and the evening prayer call which is a static laden yodeling in Arabic I think (apologies to the muslims) which lasted for TWO HOURS..damn you Peter.  Shake the mud and Hep C off the covers and try to sleep till 4:30am when the megaphone outside my window begins again. (oh yes, TWO MORE HOURS). Hurricane Farafenni bids us farewell as we pull out of town.

North Coast and Ferry

"The North Coast" is anything along the northern edge of the river Gambia. The people and culture can be very different as it has many influences from northern Senegal. You have to cross a ferry to get to Farafenni it only took us an hour or so wait time each way but for some of these trucks it could take a week or more of waiting, just to cross the river. I swear that every bus that offloaded the ferry was going to tip over, there was as much weight on the roof as there was inside or under the bus. CRAZY..

Trek

I asked to tag along on a trip upcountry (aka. a Trek) to drop off a couple volunteers to their villages. Once out of the main western region known as Kombo the terrain changes from commercial/industrial to almost exclusively sprawling rice paddies accented by huge palm, Baobab and Rubber tree stands. Absolutely beautiful country, like something out of a Nat Geo mag. Thor and I felt like celebrities, every time we stopped, the car was surrounded by village kids, none of them older than about 10 years old. Not sure where they go from pre-teen to adulthood. Most didn't believe Thor was a real dog and many insisted he was actually a cat. I was beckoned as Toubab from every direction the ENTIRE trip as if I was the most famous person in the world. It was like the stadium wave where everyone gets up with hands in the air screaming multiplied by about 300 kilometers.  I could hear tiny little cheers from tiny little children 200 meters into a field as they waved furiously yelling Toubab at the top of their tiny little voices.  The rice paddies are plowed, sowed, trenched, and harvested entirely by hand, and entirely by women. Then these exhausted women walk the 3-5 kilometers back home to cook, clean and tend to the many children.  The driver said the men can be found back in the housing compounds doing absolutely nothing. In the islamic culture its the woman's job to maintain household and raise the children.

Fast Food..Gambian style

Much the same as Beer, anyone who has EVER known me knows that I like to eat...., Alot..So why should moving to The Gambia change an integral, definable part of me. I feel it is my duty to eat whatever looks appetizing so as to report to my audience. Last week I was out wandering, mostly without cause as I have done for the past 5 weeks. Who am I kidding, ok the last 33 years, anyway. I noticed people leaving the corner markets everywhere with some sort of sandwich. I couldn't see the guts of the sandwich though. So for the sake of readers I asked the vendor for the same thing, whatever it was. Holy simple step to satiation Batman!!! Its a baguette (fresh every morning) with a thin slather of mayonnaise out of a gallon tub and a hard boiled egg (2 for me please) chopped and spread the length of the bread. All for less than .50 cents US.  A loaf of fresh baked bread can be picked up warm from the bakery for about .15 cents.. Today out wandering I found another gem that will now be a staple in my diet a man walking around selling what looked like individual coconuts in plastic bags. Gimme one..I don't have any idea how but here is a half shelled softball of fresh soft coconut with the water still perfectly preserved inside. (easily eaten with one hand while driving) Holy buckets it was good. Once again CHEAP, about .75 cents.  I will keep you updated of anymore noteworthy food finds..

Thor is not alone..

WORMS!!!! and not Thor this time. Sub-Saharan Africa was not meant to be inhabited by westerners with our delicate skin and digestive systems. The sun here is very close as is the water, 90% humidity and even greater heat breeds all kinds of nasties during the rainy season. The Mango worm is not specific to dogs and cats, humans can get them too from wet laundry on the line, or laying in the soil or on the beach. We have a clothes dryer so no worries there. The same time Thor had his worm I was covered in red dots, as if someone dipped a pencil eraser in red ink and colored me polka dot. They covered my legs, feet and some of my torso. The Doc said don't worry probably just heat rash, I don't know but it went away after about a week. Next starts the Acne, constantly sweating in dusty and wet clothes I feel like a teenage boy hitting puberty again.  Next was the poison ivy that I picked up last week, it continued to get worse getting bigger and bigger (which isn't supposed to happen). I finally broke down and went back to the doctor. Doctor:"Oh yes, thats creeping eruption" Me: "from poison ivy right?" Doctor: "I don't know this poison ivy" Me: "Its a plant that caused this rash right?" Doctor: "No, No you have Hookworms" Me: "Excuse me??????" Somehow from some animal I picked up a lovely case of worms. And the doctor has not seen a reaction quite this bad before..Story of my life. This morning I got Thor and Moose a dose of de-wormer from the vet including one he gave me to take (Which is actually for sheep, but he said it works for him). Ill start with the one from the doctor first then ill go with the sheep version.

And another one..

This is getting old but "White Pepper", our replacement for "Pepper" died this weekend. She had the same issues as "Salt" and "Pepper" even after my attempts at medicating with apple vinegar and hand feeding earth worms. "Salt 2" still seems to be healthy, however egg laying has halted. I built a proper roof (as opposed to a white plastic patio table) for the chicken house from the corrugate that I carried home in a thunderstorm creating a scene. Bleached the livin' piss out of the house and surrounding area, then bedded the house with a 50 lb sack of peanut shells. Nikki and I picked up about 300lbs of peanut shells from the field of peanut shell dunes accross from the peanut factory for about $1.50 total. With any luck she will be alive in a week and we can try again with another hen. RIP little hens.

Brikama

We picked up Mo in the AM and headed for Brikama one of the largest cities and largest markets in the country. We spent a couple hours wandering around the mud flooded streets and smoked, dried or just plain rotten fish ailes. Just above the food stands are these trees completely teaming with HUGE bats the size of our American Crows. They squak and make all kinds of wired noise in the afternoon heat.  We also found and rescued a kitten from a rice vendor who was more than willing to let us walk away with him NO charge. Any other vendor would have milked the sale for as much as possible. So we immediately became the laughing stock of the town. The "Toubabs" walking around in the middle of the day with a tiny white kitten refered to as (nyancamo) which is cat in Mandinka. Oh well thats how we roll, we wanted to get a pet for Thor. So his name is "Moose" which is Wolof for cat. Plus I love calling out "MOOSE!!" as a bekin for my 6 ounce kitten who promptly comes bounding in.   

Epaulated Fruit Bat

 

Thor's new kitty

Pictures don't do this mayhem justice.

Nikki and Modou in the market

Moose