Well, we're now in the holy month of Ramadan – the majority of my staff is fasting (this means no water too), so I'm avoiding afternoon meetings at all costs and have adjusted the workday to allow folks to get home to break the fast each night (at sundown – a specifically designated time that's adjusted every 10 days). I want to know how Muslims in Alaska do it? I mean sun up to sun down is a LONG TIME in the Alaskan summer! I'm impressed by the dedication and have learned some new Wolof greetings since all conversation necessarily revolves around the fast. The major jaw-dropper of the week was when I learned my GSM personally delivers the evening meal to all of our guards – homemade by his wife. Considering how much even a bag of rice sets you back on Gambian salaries, this is a truly generous act.
The day before Ramadan began (when the crescent moon was sighted), I headed up the north bank to Farafenni for the “Know Your Status” football tournament – a multi-regional activity coordinated by our volunteers combining HIV/AIDS awareness and education with a soccer tournament. With budget cuts we couldn't afford an extra Peace Corps vehicle to go up, so Fatou and I headed up in my car as a girls day out (and let this be the last time my car willingly crosses on the Banjul ferry). This is how you get to Farafenni: first you drive 20 min to Banjul and wait on the congested streets near the port for a chance to get on the ferry to cross the River Gambia (which takes about an hour). Many people wait all day and can't get on, since one ferry only carries about 12 cars and there are only 1 to 3 in operation. This is coupled with the VIPs willing to pay bribes to get on board, Senegalese tour buses who take up half the ferry, and 'officials' who work cross purposes in loading the ferry because they've been paid off by different vehicles. We waited four hours to get on a ferry – it would be frustrating if I weren't actually expecting it all.
After establishing our position in line, Fatou and I reclined the seats and chatted away the wait. That is, until we were surprised with a pre-ramadan-size 'breakfast' at our window! Gibril's wife had made a meal for everyone (the other vehicle had 3 staff and 6 volunteers). So we feasted on fish, chips and sauteed onions at 10am on ceramic kitchen plates and with no utensils (per usual). My inherited stash of baby wipes in the glove compartment were a hit, needless to say! After a little over an hour, we were rushing the gate with some other desperate vehicles and then resumed our parked position slightly closer to victory. I had a great over-the-curb pass while I jockeyed for position with a taxi driver trying to get in the wrong line (that drew cheers from the PC volunteers in the car ahead of me).
When we finally were within striking distance, I must have thrown it into reverse 25 times, just to back up 6 inches on the insistence of an official proving his power. We weren't too upset to miss the ferries we did, as they were horribly overcrowded – vehicles practically hanging off the edge and people body-to-body – and then they'd allow another 100 people to board! When we finally boarded, there was a surprising lack of a breeze for the hour on the water. We were only saved by the girl selling frozen kaba juice in plastic sandwich bags (now she was smart)!
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| girls match |
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| packing in another car |
The ride on the north bank road was uneventful and the scenery lush and beautiful after the rains we've had. It was a bright sunny day and the football tournament was dead hot, but our 'day trip' didn't allow more than a few hours in Farafenni, so before we knew it we were back on the road, driving the 1.5 hours to Barra (the north bank port) by dusk and just in time for the 8pm ferry. Though we got on 'successfully' that meant being the last car on the slope of the ramp, and re-parking to squeeze another car on with only a centimeter of clearance from the side of my car (there was no getting out of the vehicle on that ride).
Short of my little road trip, I've been furiously working on our FY 2012 budget, which I submitted yesterday. I also attended the closing program of another volunteer project – an HIV/AIDS camp for orphaned and vulnerable girls. Their skits and songs were inspiring and wrapped up an impressive week of camp activities (below). This coming weekend I'll be in Dakar, Senegal, prior to a Monday meeting, so hope the weather's fair enough for a little sight-seeing. The 'rainy season' hasn't been all that rainy – just flash downpours every few days and plenty of sunshine in between. We're still just in the 80s normally, though humidity is gaining... totally survivable. Could be worse - like Texas or something!
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| Binta! |
Well, we're now in the holy month of Ramadan – the majority of my staff is fasting (this means no water too), so I'm avoiding afternoon meetings at all costs and have adjusted the workday to allow folks to get home to break the fast each night (at sundown – a specifically designated time that's adjusted every 10 days). I want to know how Muslims in Alaska do it? I mean sun up to sun down is a LONG TIME in the Alaskan summer! I'm impressed by the dedication and have learned some new Wolof greetings since all conversation necessarily revolves around the fast. The major jaw-dropper of the week was when I learned my GSM personally delivers the evening meal to all of our guards – homemade by his wife. Considering how much even a bag of rice sets you back on Gambian salaries, this is a truly generous act.
After establishing our position in line, Fatou and I reclined the seats and chatted away the wait. That is, until we were surprised with a pre-ramadan-size 'breakfast' at our window! Gibril's wife had made a meal for everyone (the other vehicle had 3 staff and 6 volunteers). So we feasted on fish, chips and sauteed onions at 10am on ceramic kitchen plates and with no utensils (per usual). My inherited stash of baby wipes in the glove compartment were a hit, needless to say! After a little over an hour, we were rushing the gate with some other desperate vehicles and then resumed our parked position slightly closer to victory. I had a great over-the-curb pass while I jockeyed for position with a taxi driver trying to get in the wrong line (that drew cheers from the PC volunteers in the car ahead of me).
When we finally were within striking distance, I must have thrown it into reverse 25 times, just to back up 6 inches on the insistence of an official proving his power. We weren't too upset to miss the ferries we did, as they were horribly overcrowded – vehicles practically hanging off the edge and people body-to-body – and then they'd allow another 100 people to board! When we finally boarded, there was a surprising lack of a breeze for the hour on the water. We were only saved by the girl selling frozen kaba juice in plastic sandwich bags (now she was smart)! 
That ferry sounds down right scary, be careful my friend.
ReplyDeleteactually, it was the safest day ever to take the ferry since there happened to be a USCG cutter in port for a week. (I almost had those coasties on speed dial!)
ReplyDeleteInteresting website. Keep blogging!
ReplyDelete