go fish

Okay, I know I owe you some photos, so here's a few from the jetty in Bakau when the fish come in. I stopped by after work yesterday so we could treat my gardener to a Good Friday fish dinner (he's Christian, a minority here). It had a certain Homer chaos to it, like when the halibut charters roll in at 3:00 and fish guts are slayed wildly. Hmmm... this was much more wild!

The waves have really been crashing in around the full moon and those pirogues are tough, but probably not the boat I want to find myself on in the high seas. I walked away with some butterfish - I'm not sure if I got the "Gambian price" but it was worth the conversation I had with the guy fileting. 

It was the usual market scene of trying to peruse options while people are frantically yelling to get your attention to come buy from them instead. I love it, but add the beach to the market and there's a special challenge.White women get a lot of unwanted attention from "bumsters," as they call them, mostly on the beach & in tourist areas. The filet guy that grabbed me shared his criticism of the practice, saying that the true Gambian way was to work hard at making money, not just try to marry a toubab (white person) off the beach. This feeling seems pretty universal, but unfortunately there's a market for european sex tourism here.

But on the bright side, In spite of the unwanted male attention, I was amazed that even in that large crowd, Anna, the cleaning lady at our office, spotted me and we walked back up to the village together. The Gambia is a small town, really.  (That, and I'm a bright white toubab in a busy market place.) I went home proud of my fish and happy to have Anna's company (and a few good photos). Enjoy.