Merry Christmas from The Smiling Coast

Merry Christmas and other such holiday greetings!!

Christmas Eve Sunset on The Smiling Coast

Just back from a lovely Christmas Eve mass in our fair Old Jeshwang, and want to wish each and every one of you a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

Till we connect again in 2011...This is Matty In The Gambia reminding you...Don't Stop Believin!!

Crocodile Rock and other WHAT's up

Yo, Yo...Ho, Ho!! 

It has been a rather relaxing, yet adventurous week here in West Africa, as M.C. and I have taken to exploring many of what were the “yet-to-be gotten to areas” of our (not-so) new (anymore) home. As most of you back home are only now settling in for your holiday activities—it being Christmas Eve Eve today, undoubtedly the best day of the year—we have been, in fact, enjoying the first of our two-weeks break from work (as the NSGA headquarters has shut down, and field work ceased for the holidays). So, it has been that we’ve enjoyed (as always) a few days lazily moping about the hammocks beach-side at our favourite Ex-Pat restaurant and bar, Leybato’s...book in hand (I’m on to Dickens now—Great Expectations). But, also during the week, you would have found us taking advantage of our free days by hoping on the trusty pedal bikes to meander the maze of streets, alleys, and “highways” that make up our corner of the world and get to the sites we had yet to visit.

Here’s a taste of WHAT has been up.

First of all, I would be remiss if I were not to mention our fantastic and successful Canadian Christmas Party, hosted at the Old Jeshwang homestead this past Saturday evening. We were joined by a dozen of our colleagues, as well as several other friends and neighbours for Christmas music and treats, a Crazy Eights (Crazy Eights rules in The Gambia turning the game into Crazier Eights...more to come on this later) tourney, several rousing games of Scrabble, and last but not least a most-enjoyed-by-all Yankee Swap, in which I came away with a box of the most delicious chocolate filled cookies. Mmmmm dericious! 

No, it was a different evening from the Christmas parties we are used to back home, but being surrounded by friends in happy and high spirits isn’t, in fact, all that different from what we really aspire to at this time of year anyways...is it? And, furthermore, it felt nice to not only be able to celebrate the season in some manner, but to also include our friends here in The Gambia. Friends, who have gone out of their way to make us feel comfortable and at home in our now 7+ weeks here. 

Canadian Christmas Party = Success!

Sunday...was a beach day...all day. Sun...shine...cards...book...music...waves...walk...and...JulBrew.

Monday, I shook hands with a Crocodile. Literally.

Kachakally Crocodile Pond is a mere 10-15 minute bike-ride from our apartment, towards the water in Bakau. After zigzagging through the innards of Bakau, a nice little adventure in itself, we arrived at the Pond/Bakau Museum entrance. Before getting to the crocodiles, you walk through the museum—three huts dedicated to the history of Bakau. The first hut is dedicated to the ceremonial past of Bakau...namely the ceremonial practice of circumcision...male and female. Literally, there are over a dozen pictures and descriptions of a young man or women, fresh from the scissors. And yet, after being here for 7+ weeks and having been privy to the rather candid discussion that takes place among people here regarding these practices, neither of us was all that phased with the idea that a museum would pay homage to such. Hut number two displayed various musical instruments and the role of music throughout the ages in Bakau. The third hut was a depiction of the role played by Gambian soldiers in the two world wars. I was, in fact, quite surprised to learn about the impact that West Africans had in the allied efforts.

After spending 20-or-so minutes museuming...we wandered the path through the trees...BIG trees. Seriously, you gotta see these things until we were...wait a minute...is that...wait, that is. Holy crap! That’s a crocodile...no, it’s not a real...yes it is! That’s a crocodile...right in front of us. 

As M.C. said, could you imagine if you came with little kids who ran ahead and all of a sudden tripped over Gus the crocodile laying there...mouth wide-open, cooling in the shade.

There’s no warning...no friendly reminder that you’re nearing your new reptilian friends. You basically round the corner and are face-to-face with over 80 crocodiles; a little unnerving at first. But, then we realized that these guys are so lethargic, so drugged up—I said to the guy tending the shop “They must be drugged up, right?” He said, “No, just herbs and natural medicines.” To which I said, “Yea, that’s drugs.”...with a smile—that they really pose no threat at all. The guy also explained that they do not eat human flesh and that I should shake hands with one of them. “No, that’s alright,” I said. He insisted. I relented” (And the above pic is proof...

(And as a wise-ish man once said “A proof is a proof. And when you have a proof, that’s a proof”, or something to that effect).

Tuesday was the best beach day of the year so far. The waves were money. The sun was great. And, there was a lovely breeze that swept along the coast. Furthermore, we met up with two new Canadian friends Tuesday evening for dinner on the beach. Emma and Paul had just arrived to undertake, like ourselves, a five-month CIDA internship here in The Gambia. Oh how nice it was to sit down and commiserate with folks from home.  It was lovely evening...and to top it off, I found a nice little spot to enjoy JulBrew on tap on our way back to Old Jeshwang.

Wednesday, yesterday, was a particularly special day here in The Gambia as we were invited by our new friends from the U.S. Peace Corps to join them for lunch and Christmas cookies...and Wii, at the U.S. Embassy house that one of the girls was briefly staying at.

First thing in the morning, however, we hoped on the bikes and made our way to the Serrekunda Market, a labyrinth of epic proportions, where showering pre-visit is wasted water. We walked for an hour, through the vegetables and fish (with a large order of flies on the side), the clothing, and the little trinkets that make up a market before we decided that was had had a good first visit and decided to head cross-country (exploring a new area—Koto) towards Senegambia to meet up with our U.S. friends. We arrived at the Embassy mansion and enjoyed a lovely hamburger pie with Christmas Carols playing in the background, a couple games of Wii tennis and made peanut-butter cookies with caramel centres which tasted great, all the while enjoying the air conditioned reprieve from the world around us. I could have mistaken myself for being back home, but then realized that I, or no one I know, has a place that nice back home.

Last night, we put the Muppet Family Christmas on (you know that old one where all the Muppet, Sesame Street, and Fraggle characters are at Fozzy Bear’s mother country home for Christmas and the Swedish Chef tries to cook Big Bird...gobbly gobbly humongor!) and really got into the spirit...er spirits...

So, yea...it’s been a great week. Sunset on the beach this evening another treat. Tomorrow will most likely be a beach day. Saturday, Christmas Day, we have been invited to Banjul by our colleague Nuru to a barbeque and to enjoy the “Masquerades” that take place throughout the city. Sunday, we will adventurously take to the road and travel cross-border to Dakar, Senegal for 5-or-so days. We are told that when all goes smoothly, it is a 6-hour trip, but to be prepared for the worst travel day of our lives. I’m sure it will all be worth it though to experience what is supposed to be a diverse and lively city...And, since we parlez-vous, we’ve been assured that getting about the city will be relatively easy.

So...although scrambled and speed-written, that is the WHAT of what has been up over the past week-ish here in The Gambia.

I trust all is well across the world for each and every one of you. Best wishes for the holiday season from Matty In The Gambia! And, be in touch. I’ll be in touch once returned from Senegal next week.

Till Next Time...Don’t Stop Believin,

Matty

And so it goes...

Wow...just like that it’s been a whole week (again) since I’ve last touched base with all my fans (appropriate to refer to all as such?). But, as quick as time must seem to fly for all those combating the quickly coming holiday season, we here on The Smiling Coast are also caught up in the swift swirl of time as it flies by...as pleasantly as the newly arrived winter breeze, I must add. Yes, the winter weather here in The Gambia is the tits! (M.C. says I can use that word) I awake in the mornings not sweaty, bike to work only mildly sweaty upon arrival, and spend my evenings enjoying the pleasant and non-insufferable winter nights.

I spent much of the last week taking a daily transit (an adventure on its own) in to our fare capital city of Banjul—a fifteen to twenty minute sojourn—to aide my fellow colleague, Yankouba Bojang (NSGA Drama Touper) conduct two Malaria prevention & Behaviour Change Communication workshops with both high school and middle school aged students. Having not ever been threatened by malaria, nor educated the littlest bit about the parasite, I was at first unsure of what my contribution to these seminars would be...until we got to the communication piece and I found my opening.

Persuasion, rhetoric, energizers and games...these are my bag, and though needing to be simplified for young minds, I was able to impart some knowledge of the Ethos, Pathos and Logos needed to convince others that sleeping under an insecticide-treated bed-net is the best way to prevent the spread of malaria throughout West Africa.

***

So, now we are on our two-week holiday, while the office here closes for Christmas. Yes, we live in an overwhelmingly predominant Muslim country, but still there exists a flavour of Christmas. And, we are assured, there is lots of fun to be had both on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day—with masquerades aplenty in Banjul.

Oh yea, we (well...mostly M.C.) are hosting a Christmas Party this evening (I’m just along for my youthful good looks and wit) at our pad in Old Jeshwang for our friends, colleagues and neighbours. We are even going to try a Yankee Swap...which reminds me...I have yet to pick up a small gift. Hmmmm, best be getting on to that.

In the meantime everyone, I will endeavour to get back to this blog in short order with a report from our party and an update on our holiday happenings.

Also, I need to redeem myself in our Cribbage epic. After stretching out to a 20-11 lead, I now (after three skunks and a 9-game losing streak) find myself down 23-20...eeek. Time to turn things around.

Until Next Time...Don’t Stop Believin,

Matty 

Pics

I know it's been a long-time coming...but I was finally able to upload pictures from our first month here in The Gambia.

For those of you keeping score at home, we have been here just over 5 weeks now. That's 1/4 of our journey in the books...now those books are up on flickr, here

Enjoy!

Till Next Time...Don't Stop Believin.

Matty

Apples and Bananas - A story of Principle

Some people may say that I’m stubborn...

But I prefer to call myself...well...principled.

But, let’s just be honest. This “principle” I speak of, is really just my way to rationalize stubbornness in my own head.

To make a long-story short...I got out- “principled” last night.

And so the story goes:

The power was out in Old Jeshwang as I returned to the pad around 7pm from a good little workout at the gym-ish just down the road. With no food in the apartment, and no power to enjoy the cool and steady breeze of the fan, M.C. and I decided that the timing would be perfect to hop on the trusty ole’ pedal-bikes and head down to Kairaba Avenue to the “super-market” and fruit & vegetable vendors.

No issues at the super-market, as we left with our usual supply of yogurt, muesli, orange juice, bread, cookies, spaghetti, sauce, chick peas, kidney beans, and coffee (yeeeeeeeeees Nescafe Classic).

Now onto the fruit and vegetable vendors to haggle over apples and bananas...and tomatoes and cucumber, should our mood insight the purchase...we never even got to the vegetable conversation.

First stop was with our buddy (not our buddy) who situates himself just beside the super-market...Bananas: 40 Dalasis for 1kg...not too bad...manageable at the very least for bananas that look like they could at least withstand two-days of heat before falling to pieces (falling to pieces will here forth be referred to as “going bananas”). Apples: 15 Dalasis each...the usual starting point for your green apple here in Fajara, as “these apples (I have been told with great reverence) are brought in from Europe...no good, can’t go lower”.

Now, I have come to realize that no matter what vendors tell you...fruit is fruit...apples are apples...bananas are bananas...and in the African heat, nothing lasts.

I don’t care how “good” these apples are, I want to buy at least eight, and there is no way I am paying more than 25 Dalasis for two...that’s eight apples for 100 Dalasis. That was my request (I would take the kilo of bananas for 40...I just wanted eight apples for 100). Vendor says “no good”...I say “good bye”...and start across the street to the other vendor leaving M.C. standing there frustrated at my “principled” approach with our buddy (not our buddy).

Onto to vendor #2...

“How much for apples”, I say.

“15 Dalasis for one”, he says.

 “Two for 25”, I say.

“No good”, he says.

“C’mon...eight for 100”, I say.

He bags’em up. VICTORY...so I think...

“How much for bananas?”, I say.

” 50 Dalasis a kilo”, he says.

“The guy across the street is selling them for 40”, I say.

 “No, these good bananas”, he says.

“Bananas are bananas!” I say (at this point, I am going a little bananas).

“No, these very good bananas”, he says.

“Too good for me”, I say...and take off just as M.C. is arriving on the scene (In retrospect, I feel bad for leaving her in my dust once again...but I was blinded by “principle”).

Onto to the third attempt, around the corner at the actual fruit and vegetable market, rife with a dozen or so stands (re: lots of opportunity to engage in principled discussion and surely come away with fruit)

...to find it closed.

“I’m not going back to the first two”, I say defiantly to M.C.

Home, we bike...in silence...

At this point...Matty is unhappy—unhappy that I don’t have fruit, but too “principled” to easily ascertain said fruit.

You see, I was sure that upon walking away from the first vendor that he would call out and say...”ok...deal, bananas for 40 dalasis and eight apples for 100.”

Upon getting all the way across the street to the second vendor, I was CERTAIN that when I walked away from him he would call out and say...”ok...deal, bananas for 40 dalasis and eight apples for 100.”

I never pictured myself walking to an empty fruit market...fruitless...principled, but fruitless just the same.

At the end of the day for the cost of 10 dalasis—40 Canadian cents give-or-take—I could have enjoyed a nice (yet ever-spoiling) banana this morning with my muesli and yogurt...and a nice crunchy apple as I wrote this post.

But, at the end of the day, I stood on “principle”...Yes, despite this setback, I am able to look myself in the mirror and say “Matt...you are a principled human-being...And I am far too stubborn to ever give that up.

***

FYI: I’m headed down the alley as we speak to grab a couple bananas...I’m leaving my principle here at the computer.

Till Next Time...Don’t Stop Believin

Matty

Billy Goats Gruff

Before I begin, let me just say that I am super-duper sorry about my absence from the scene. A week with no posts is unacceptable, and yet I implore you to accept my excuse...that being that I have in vain been trying to download a video to the blog...unsuccessfully three or four times now. So here goes with the alternative...enjoy.

***

In North America, 40 might be the new 30 (or something to that effect) but over here...Stray goats are the new stray dog.

Now I’ve had the fortune to travel through parts of Southeast Asia and South America and I have seen my fair share of strays roaming the streets...lookin for trouble. I’ve been barked at more often than I care to remember by a stray mutt...but, it has always been a mutt (rhyme alert).

Here in The Gambia, however, I would venture to guess that stray goats outnumber stray dogs AT LEAST 5 to 1. There are goats everywhere...peeing and pooping on the street, baaa-ing at me and M.C. (rhyme alert #2)...and, of course, eatin garbage.

Now, it would actually be unfair for me to classify these goats as “strays” per say—I do it for pure amusement purposes. In fact, these goats leave from, and return to, their owners...their compounds...on a morning and nightly basis. They stroll the avenue (I kid you not, there are goats criss-crossing the busy Kairaba Avenue) and play gaily in the alleyways, all the while being left to their own devices by all passerby’s.

We have been informed that it is very rare that a goat will be “stolen” while away from its yard, and that all community members respect the fact that these goats represent a great deal of a person/family’s livelihood (in the way of goat milk and cheese).

...If only people had the same respect for un-supervised bicycles (We do not allow our bikes unattended without being locked up, in any circumstance).

***

Nice little aside to this goat story; We have our own adopted “pet” goat in our compound. Oliver (as M.C. named him) or Sh*thead (as I, so endearingly, named him—because we wake up every morning to a driveway full of goat pellets) is owned by our neighbours. He, though, NEVER leaves the yard. I think he’s lonely...and my god, he’s a homely looking thing.

Sh*thea...I mean Oliver - Homeliness Personified (you can scarcely make out the pee stain and pellets in the background

Until next time...Don’t Stop Believin

Matty

***

Cribbage Update: Matty stretched it out yesterday to a 19-11 lead...peggin strong.