It's raining. Hard. And all day long. I'm not so concerned about getting wet. What I am concerned about is my ability to get to Freetown. The road apparently can get bad after heavy rains and we have heavy rains. We'll see. It's supposed to clear up a bit on Tuesday when I'm traveling.
I'll keep you posted. Oh, why am I travelling during the rainy season and Ramadan?
August 31, 2008 16:18 Guinea local time
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Saturday, August 30, 2008
A Day Pursuing Heaven
Today I decided to hit my three heaven spots. I woke up early after a pretty good sleep and at 7:30 or so headed to Le Damier. I had a wonderful Petit Dejeuner Français or a French style breakfast. There was a delicious coffee, delicious orange juice, 4 slices of warmed bread, a croissant, and a plate of butter, mango marmalade and berry confiture. I watched the Euronews. They are still running the Obama events in the No Comment section--a sort of minute each half hour where they play a news feed without any comment or voice-over--something you'll never find in the US outside of C-SPAN.
After I finished my breakfast (GF44000 or US$9) I headed to the MouNa internet cafe where I got trapped by a hard rain and stayed for 2 hours catching up on my google/reader subscriptions. In a bit of a surprise, I found that The Machinist, a Salon.com blog I subscribe to, is now being handled by a guy who left a couple of comments on this very blog a couple times in the last few weeks--Cyrus Farivar. He is a journalist for Public Radio International. I sent him an email congratulating him for doing the Machinist blog. Though after I sent it, I kind of felt like I should have mentioned that his reporting for PRI was more serious and I hoped The Machinist wouldn't detract too much from the more serious work he does. Oh well.
The rain eventually stopped and after a short respite in my hotel room, I headed to the other slice of heaven--Le Petit Bateau.
I read La Route and had a few beers. After 3 beers I ordered a pizza (Fermiére--France has standard pizza types and the Fermiére, or farmer's pizza is one of them). I watched as the woman who runs the bar controlled things. She is a strong woman, about my age, and takes no BS from anyone. She did an inventory while I was there having a guy count everything. Everytime she disputed a number, he recounted and she was right. She's a sharp cookie. The young girls who work there call her Mama. I found myself strangely attracted to her. She's not gorgeous, but she has a cool attitude. A couple of times she turned around and I quickly averted my eyes so she wouldn't catch me looking at her. There was a younger girl with these really interesting hair twist things--like braids but they looked like the worm of a corkscrew, These here all tied up in the back. Just amazing hair. The employees there all wear a white top and black skirts and pants. At 4:30 when the shift change happened, she came out dressed in a super-sexy pair of jeans. She took my mind off Mama for a while.
When it came time to settle my bill, Mama came out with a bill. She had 5 beers instead of 4. I have no doubt that she knows exactly how many beers I had--I saw her doing inventory and she knows her stuff. Maybe she thinks I'm on an expense account and some multinational corporation is taking care of my bill. But I'm not--I'm a self-financed tourist. So I paid the exact amount and left no tip. If she wants a tip, she can correct the facture.
Then I came home. Right now, the street is loud with excitement. Ramadan is almost upon us and people are reveling while they still can. The day before Ramadan seems sort of like Mardi Gras--the day before lent. People know they have to fast, so they party hard until the event--midnight for Mardi Gras (the difference between 23:30 Tuesday and 0:30 Wednesday in New Orleans is absolutely astounding) and the appearance of the crescent moon for Ramadan.
August 30, 2008 17:59 Guinea local time
After I finished my breakfast (GF44000 or US$9) I headed to the MouNa internet cafe where I got trapped by a hard rain and stayed for 2 hours catching up on my google/reader subscriptions. In a bit of a surprise, I found that The Machinist, a Salon.com blog I subscribe to, is now being handled by a guy who left a couple of comments on this very blog a couple times in the last few weeks--Cyrus Farivar. He is a journalist for Public Radio International. I sent him an email congratulating him for doing the Machinist blog. Though after I sent it, I kind of felt like I should have mentioned that his reporting for PRI was more serious and I hoped The Machinist wouldn't detract too much from the more serious work he does. Oh well.
The rain eventually stopped and after a short respite in my hotel room, I headed to the other slice of heaven--Le Petit Bateau.
I read La Route and had a few beers. After 3 beers I ordered a pizza (Fermiére--France has standard pizza types and the Fermiére, or farmer's pizza is one of them). I watched as the woman who runs the bar controlled things. She is a strong woman, about my age, and takes no BS from anyone. She did an inventory while I was there having a guy count everything. Everytime she disputed a number, he recounted and she was right. She's a sharp cookie. The young girls who work there call her Mama. I found myself strangely attracted to her. She's not gorgeous, but she has a cool attitude. A couple of times she turned around and I quickly averted my eyes so she wouldn't catch me looking at her. There was a younger girl with these really interesting hair twist things--like braids but they looked like the worm of a corkscrew, These here all tied up in the back. Just amazing hair. The employees there all wear a white top and black skirts and pants. At 4:30 when the shift change happened, she came out dressed in a super-sexy pair of jeans. She took my mind off Mama for a while.
When it came time to settle my bill, Mama came out with a bill. She had 5 beers instead of 4. I have no doubt that she knows exactly how many beers I had--I saw her doing inventory and she knows her stuff. Maybe she thinks I'm on an expense account and some multinational corporation is taking care of my bill. But I'm not--I'm a self-financed tourist. So I paid the exact amount and left no tip. If she wants a tip, she can correct the facture.
Then I came home. Right now, the street is loud with excitement. Ramadan is almost upon us and people are reveling while they still can. The day before Ramadan seems sort of like Mardi Gras--the day before lent. People know they have to fast, so they party hard until the event--midnight for Mardi Gras (the difference between 23:30 Tuesday and 0:30 Wednesday in New Orleans is absolutely astounding) and the appearance of the crescent moon for Ramadan.
August 30, 2008 17:59 Guinea local time
Republicans
I was amazed that there were Christians praying for rain to ruin Obama's speech in the stadium in Denver. I love Charles Mudede's take on this at Slog. With Gustav aimed right at New Orleans ready to land just in time for the Republican National Convention in Larry Craig's favorite cruising city, it should be a wonderful reminder of "it must look twice as bad from down there" Bush's lack of concern for the welfare of a largely black city. If there is a god, and he intervenes in human affairs with weather, then is a powerful reminder that the immoral abuse of Him for such ends does not please Him. The Focus on the Family members should be ashamed for such a dispicible abuse of their belief in the power of prayer.
I'd also like to note that for a man who would likely die in office because he's a doddering old man with one foot in the grave, his extraordinally important choice of VP, a former beauty queen, seems kooky. Is this guy really serious about the job he's asking for? Unbelievable. Actually the McCain campaign employed the beauty queen who is responsible for this quote at the Miss America pagaent on why Americans don't do well in geography:
I'd also like to note that for a man who would likely die in office because he's a doddering old man with one foot in the grave, his extraordinally important choice of VP, a former beauty queen, seems kooky. Is this guy really serious about the job he's asking for? Unbelievable. Actually the McCain campaign employed the beauty queen who is responsible for this quote at the Miss America pagaent on why Americans don't do well in geography:
"I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, uh, some people out there in our nation don’t have maps and, uh, I believe that our, uh, education like such as in, uh, South Africa and, uh, the Iraq and everywhere like such as, and I believe that they should, uh, our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S., uh, should help South Africa and should help Iraq and the Asian countries, so we will be able to build up our future for our children." -- Miss South CarolinaShe hit all the right family values themes--children, Iraq, and...OK, she's just a moron.
Friday, August 29, 2008
The ATM Line At BICIGUI
Since I had used a big chunk of my money on the Sierra Leone visa, I decided I better go to the BICIGUI bank and take out a couple of GF200,000 tranches. As I've mentioned, the problem with Guinea is that the largest denomination bill is worth $2 and it's pretty big. I got to the bank at about 3:30 after a nap. There was a long line--maybe 20 people. Each person takes a long time because you have to put your card in (the motor sucks it in really slow), enter your PIN, do the other things you need to do to tell it to give you GF200,000, wait for it to dispense the money, take your card out (the motor pushes it out really slow), and then wait for it to be ready to take the card again. Then you repeat for the next stack of 20 two dollar bills. Repeat as often as needed until you've taken out the number of tranches of $40 you need.
Well, there I was in line and it just wasn't moving. After an initial acknowledgement, I tried to avoid looking at 2 men with polio wearing flip-flops on their hands who hang out the entrance to the bank begging for money. A girl in pink in front of me got impatient and asked me in English to save her spot as she went to run an errand. The line slowly advanced. I met the guy who translated for me at the Malian embassy. Kids were coming by selling books, phone cards, and other sundries. The girl in pink bought a knitted hat and another girl got a pair of sunglasses. The guy from the Malian embassy bought a phone card. That was the most commerce I'd seen transacted with these ambulant salespeople since I arrived in Africa.
After about a half hour there were 10 people in front of me. I had nothing better to do so I continued to stand in line. The girl in pink kept coming and going. Then the ATMs ran out of money. I wondered if this would happen. When the machine is stocked with nothing but think $2 bills and people take out several tranches of 20 each, the stack of cash must go down pretty fast. The security guard peeked into the room with the ATMs every so often to see if they were up yet. Four thirty came and the bank closed. I had hoped to be done before it closed just in case it ate my card. Five o'clock. The ATMs were still down. Then at 5:30, one went up. There were only 5 people in front of me at this point--but there were about 30 behind me. The girl in pink asked me where I was from. I told her and explained my trip. She is engaged to a British man and that is why she speaks English so well. I had though maybe she was from Gambia or Sierra Leone. But she was from Labé. We chatted about Labé since I had spent a few days there. She was impressed with my trip and happy I was enjoying Guinea. Then her turn was up. She shook my hand and went in to draw out her money. When she finished, I went in and got 2 tranches. Everything went well. I got my card back and I got my money.
After that, I decided to eat at an Indian place called Taj Mahal. I was the only customer. I got Lamb Korma, vegetarian samosas, 2 beers, and a sort of condensed milk ice cream. It came to GF90000 or US$18. It was pretty good, though not as good as The Clay Oven in The Gambia. And the beer should have been a few degrees colder. I read La Route while waiting for my food.
When I came home, I folded my money the way the Guineans do. They make little bundles worth GF50000 (US$10). One bill is folded over the top of a stack of the rest of the bills which are rotated 90°. The bills are twice as long as they are high, so when folded like this they form perfect squares. If you line up the corners where both folds come together and keep all the bills tightly compacted, it is easy to quickly pull out multiples of US$10.
August 29, 2008 19:59 Guinea local time
Well, there I was in line and it just wasn't moving. After an initial acknowledgement, I tried to avoid looking at 2 men with polio wearing flip-flops on their hands who hang out the entrance to the bank begging for money. A girl in pink in front of me got impatient and asked me in English to save her spot as she went to run an errand. The line slowly advanced. I met the guy who translated for me at the Malian embassy. Kids were coming by selling books, phone cards, and other sundries. The girl in pink bought a knitted hat and another girl got a pair of sunglasses. The guy from the Malian embassy bought a phone card. That was the most commerce I'd seen transacted with these ambulant salespeople since I arrived in Africa.
After about a half hour there were 10 people in front of me. I had nothing better to do so I continued to stand in line. The girl in pink kept coming and going. Then the ATMs ran out of money. I wondered if this would happen. When the machine is stocked with nothing but think $2 bills and people take out several tranches of 20 each, the stack of cash must go down pretty fast. The security guard peeked into the room with the ATMs every so often to see if they were up yet. Four thirty came and the bank closed. I had hoped to be done before it closed just in case it ate my card. Five o'clock. The ATMs were still down. Then at 5:30, one went up. There were only 5 people in front of me at this point--but there were about 30 behind me. The girl in pink asked me where I was from. I told her and explained my trip. She is engaged to a British man and that is why she speaks English so well. I had though maybe she was from Gambia or Sierra Leone. But she was from Labé. We chatted about Labé since I had spent a few days there. She was impressed with my trip and happy I was enjoying Guinea. Then her turn was up. She shook my hand and went in to draw out her money. When she finished, I went in and got 2 tranches. Everything went well. I got my card back and I got my money.
After that, I decided to eat at an Indian place called Taj Mahal. I was the only customer. I got Lamb Korma, vegetarian samosas, 2 beers, and a sort of condensed milk ice cream. It came to GF90000 or US$18. It was pretty good, though not as good as The Clay Oven in The Gambia. And the beer should have been a few degrees colder. I read La Route while waiting for my food.
When I came home, I folded my money the way the Guineans do. They make little bundles worth GF50000 (US$10). One bill is folded over the top of a stack of the rest of the bills which are rotated 90°. The bills are twice as long as they are high, so when folded like this they form perfect squares. If you line up the corners where both folds come together and keep all the bills tightly compacted, it is easy to quickly pull out multiples of US$10.
August 29, 2008 19:59 Guinea local time
Le Damier
This morning I headed out to Le Damier, a patisserie/cafe that is promised by the Lonely Planet to have successfully pulled off the Paris vibe. Wow! It is a hop, skip, and a jump from my hotel and it is a little slice of heaven. I had a croissant better than many of the croissants I had in France. And a cafe au lait that was just the best I've had in months and months. They had Euronews playing French news with some DNC Convention news. It was voiced over in French, but Obama and his wife still give me goose bumps. There were a bunch of men dressed up in very nice African outfits. I guess people are enjoying their last few daylight breakfasts before Ramadan starts. It's nice that Conakry has these wonderful places like Le Petit Bateau and Le Damier. If I had to live in Conakry, these places would make it easy. I will visit Le Damier every morning I'm here in Conakry. They have handmade chocolate, too.
August 29, 2008 Guinea local time
August 29, 2008 Guinea local time
Postcards From Timbuktu
Did you think you'd never receive a post card from Timbuktu? Well, if you know my email address, just send me your address and I'll mail a post card to you. You have some time to send it to me since I still have a long trip from Conakry to Sierra Leone, a long trip to Bamako, and then have to get some visas in Bamako, followed by a lazy trip down the Niger River.
I'll send up to post cards to the first 5 people who don't know me personally, as well. I know that sometimes people come across this blog by googling something and some of those people can get in on the Timbuktu post card action as well.
I can't guarantee that the post cards will arrive, but I'll do my part and send them.
I'll send up to post cards to the first 5 people who don't know me personally, as well. I know that sometimes people come across this blog by googling something and some of those people can get in on the Timbuktu post card action as well.
I can't guarantee that the post cards will arrive, but I'll do my part and send them.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
A Full Day In Conakry
Today I woke up deciding I would go to the Sierra Leone embassy. It is right on the Route du Donka and I know there is a bus that leaves from the port rond-pont that goes up the Route du Donka. But first I headed to MouNa to check the internet and see what I could learn about Sierra Leone visas. Nothing on google on getting a visa in Guinea for Sierra Leone or getting the visa at the border. The Lonely Planet shows CFA430000 which is like US$860. But that doesn't make sense because neither Sierra Leone nor Guinea used CFA as currency--they use the Guinea Franc and the Leone. If you are a US citizen flying to Sierra Leone you can actually scan your passport, email it to them and receive a visa you can print out and take with you. But I don't know if that works at land border crossings. That is US$70. So I went to the port.
There are 2 sets of buses leaving from the port. One was empty and one had people. I went to the one with people and asked a guy if it went to the Carrfour Bellevue which is the rond-pont near the Sierra Leone embassy. It has a huge statue of an elephant in the middle. He said no, the other buses were. SO I went and asked a guy there and he told me to get on the bus. When the ticket man came I got a ticket for GF1500 (US$0.30). Eventually at 9:20 or so we left. The bus took a very roundabout way to get around. I recognized some parts but not others. One of the advantages of walking yesterday is that I got to know the Route du Donka by sight in places. Eventually we got back on the Route du Donka and went passed the university. I saw a woman scooping something out of a pot into a half baguette at a shop called Baguette Magique. It looked yummy. I'd try it on the way back. Eventually I saw the embassy and got up. We passed it and the bus went a ways before it stopped but I got there at a little after 10am. There were 4 men in front. I never know if these guys are employees of the embassy or just people who hang out there. I asked one if I could apply for a visa. He spoke English so I switched to English. Sierra Leone's colonial language is English and not French. It was established by the British to take prize ships with suspected slaves to determine in a court of law if the blacks on the ships were actually slaves or not according to the British which banned the international slave trade pretty early on.
The guy asked me why I wanted to go to Sierra Leone. I said I was touring West Africa and wanted to visit for a couple of days. He asked if I had any friends or relatives in Sierra Leone. I said no, that I was just planning to see Freetown for a few days. He led me into the embassy and had me sit down. Then he got the consular officer. The officer led me into his office. He asked my nationality and when I said US, he told me I'd need US$131. Just like Mali. He wanted US currency--not even Euros. So I asked him if there was a place where I could get US currency. He directed me to asked the guy who brought me in.
So I went out and told the guy I needed US currency. Well, one of the 4 guys sitting there happened to be a money changer. There are a lot of them. He gave me 4 Jacksons for GF800000. I went back in and when I got there I realized I didn't have a Hamilton. Oh well. I paid US$140. It's not like $10 will matter in the scheme of things. I filled out the form. I left the employer blank and he just told me to check the vaccinations for small pox, cholera, and yellow fever even though I only have a certificate for yellow fever. I suppose I could show my shoulder for the small pox. I didn't know that even still exists.
He noted that I was an engineer. He was impressed. He asked my employer and I explained I left my job to travel and didn't have a job. I asked if he like the address of my last employer and he said yes, so I provided that. The visa would be ready Monday at noon. I smiled and thanked him and headed out. I wonder how many American tourists come through there... Not many, I suppose. On the way out the guy who helped me hinted that he wanted a tip (I think) so I gave him a GF10000 (US$2).
I headed down the Route du Donka till I got the the Baguette Magique. The woman and the pot were there, but she was out of it. It was beans and not meat as I assumed. Too bad. It looked pretty good. I walked a ways until a taxi beeped at me--it was heading to downtown so I took it.
I got back to my hotel and got my journal and fountain pen and headed to the Patisserie Centrale just a couple blocks from the hotel. I got a slice of pizza for GF6000 (US$1.20) but they didn't reheat it so it was cold. I wrote into my journal and then made out a couple of post cards. Then I headed to the post office and mailed the post cards. I headed back to a place called Le Chelsea on the Rue de la Republique where I got a positively yummy chicken sandwich. They had Euronews and showed highlights of the Democratic National Convention but the speeches were voiced over in French. I sat there, a proud American, seeing who should be the next President of the United States. If the American people vote for McCain and his principles, then I'll know that fear has triumphed over hope and that America as I love it has ceased to exist.
I took a nap and nursed my sores from my fall into the hole a couple days previous. Then I got dressed to go out, but a hard rain started so I listened to music. When the rain ended, I wrapped up my La Route into a plastic bag and headed out to find Le Petit Bateau, a hotel with a supposedly nice bar/restaurant. I had seen the sign from the taxi so I knew about where it was. I found the sign after a 20 minute walk and headed in the direction of the sign. Le Petit Bateau is out on a spit and the road to it is twisty and curvy. There is a restaurant on the way called Restaurant P.A Petit Bateau and I almost thought that was it. But it wasn't. I saw the thatched roof when I got onto the spit. They have a nice round bar and a bunch of tables. Even a couple of pools. I sat at the bar.
I had a seafood pizza and 3 beers. In a country where physical comfort is almost unknown, Le Petit Bateau was a paradise. The bar was surrounded on 3 side by water. The beer was cold. The pizza was yummy as hell. The sea breeze was perfect. I could live out my days here. I stayed until it started to get dark. I wanted to make it back to the port at least before it got dark because there were no small amount of obstacles that I would have to negotiate on the way back that wouldn't be easy in the dark. It started to rain fairly hard on the way back, too. But I made it back safe and sound. And now I'm typing up my day.
So I get to stay in Conakry until Tuesday morning. I'll know Conakry pretty well by then, I guess. Everything takes a long time in West Africa. It'll be a day to get to Freetown, Sierra Leone. A day to get back. A couple days there. On the way to Bamako, I'll spend the night, I think, in Mamou and Kankan. I'll get 2 or 3 visas in Bamako before trying to take a sporadic boat to Timbuktu. I hope I can complete my itinerary. It's going to be a long trip, though.
August 28, 2008 20:27 Guinea local time
There are 2 sets of buses leaving from the port. One was empty and one had people. I went to the one with people and asked a guy if it went to the Carrfour Bellevue which is the rond-pont near the Sierra Leone embassy. It has a huge statue of an elephant in the middle. He said no, the other buses were. SO I went and asked a guy there and he told me to get on the bus. When the ticket man came I got a ticket for GF1500 (US$0.30). Eventually at 9:20 or so we left. The bus took a very roundabout way to get around. I recognized some parts but not others. One of the advantages of walking yesterday is that I got to know the Route du Donka by sight in places. Eventually we got back on the Route du Donka and went passed the university. I saw a woman scooping something out of a pot into a half baguette at a shop called Baguette Magique. It looked yummy. I'd try it on the way back. Eventually I saw the embassy and got up. We passed it and the bus went a ways before it stopped but I got there at a little after 10am. There were 4 men in front. I never know if these guys are employees of the embassy or just people who hang out there. I asked one if I could apply for a visa. He spoke English so I switched to English. Sierra Leone's colonial language is English and not French. It was established by the British to take prize ships with suspected slaves to determine in a court of law if the blacks on the ships were actually slaves or not according to the British which banned the international slave trade pretty early on.
The guy asked me why I wanted to go to Sierra Leone. I said I was touring West Africa and wanted to visit for a couple of days. He asked if I had any friends or relatives in Sierra Leone. I said no, that I was just planning to see Freetown for a few days. He led me into the embassy and had me sit down. Then he got the consular officer. The officer led me into his office. He asked my nationality and when I said US, he told me I'd need US$131. Just like Mali. He wanted US currency--not even Euros. So I asked him if there was a place where I could get US currency. He directed me to asked the guy who brought me in.
So I went out and told the guy I needed US currency. Well, one of the 4 guys sitting there happened to be a money changer. There are a lot of them. He gave me 4 Jacksons for GF800000. I went back in and when I got there I realized I didn't have a Hamilton. Oh well. I paid US$140. It's not like $10 will matter in the scheme of things. I filled out the form. I left the employer blank and he just told me to check the vaccinations for small pox, cholera, and yellow fever even though I only have a certificate for yellow fever. I suppose I could show my shoulder for the small pox. I didn't know that even still exists.
He noted that I was an engineer. He was impressed. He asked my employer and I explained I left my job to travel and didn't have a job. I asked if he like the address of my last employer and he said yes, so I provided that. The visa would be ready Monday at noon. I smiled and thanked him and headed out. I wonder how many American tourists come through there... Not many, I suppose. On the way out the guy who helped me hinted that he wanted a tip (I think) so I gave him a GF10000 (US$2).
I headed down the Route du Donka till I got the the Baguette Magique. The woman and the pot were there, but she was out of it. It was beans and not meat as I assumed. Too bad. It looked pretty good. I walked a ways until a taxi beeped at me--it was heading to downtown so I took it.
I got back to my hotel and got my journal and fountain pen and headed to the Patisserie Centrale just a couple blocks from the hotel. I got a slice of pizza for GF6000 (US$1.20) but they didn't reheat it so it was cold. I wrote into my journal and then made out a couple of post cards. Then I headed to the post office and mailed the post cards. I headed back to a place called Le Chelsea on the Rue de la Republique where I got a positively yummy chicken sandwich. They had Euronews and showed highlights of the Democratic National Convention but the speeches were voiced over in French. I sat there, a proud American, seeing who should be the next President of the United States. If the American people vote for McCain and his principles, then I'll know that fear has triumphed over hope and that America as I love it has ceased to exist.
I took a nap and nursed my sores from my fall into the hole a couple days previous. Then I got dressed to go out, but a hard rain started so I listened to music. When the rain ended, I wrapped up my La Route into a plastic bag and headed out to find Le Petit Bateau, a hotel with a supposedly nice bar/restaurant. I had seen the sign from the taxi so I knew about where it was. I found the sign after a 20 minute walk and headed in the direction of the sign. Le Petit Bateau is out on a spit and the road to it is twisty and curvy. There is a restaurant on the way called Restaurant P.A Petit Bateau and I almost thought that was it. But it wasn't. I saw the thatched roof when I got onto the spit. They have a nice round bar and a bunch of tables. Even a couple of pools. I sat at the bar.
I had a seafood pizza and 3 beers. In a country where physical comfort is almost unknown, Le Petit Bateau was a paradise. The bar was surrounded on 3 side by water. The beer was cold. The pizza was yummy as hell. The sea breeze was perfect. I could live out my days here. I stayed until it started to get dark. I wanted to make it back to the port at least before it got dark because there were no small amount of obstacles that I would have to negotiate on the way back that wouldn't be easy in the dark. It started to rain fairly hard on the way back, too. But I made it back safe and sound. And now I'm typing up my day.
So I get to stay in Conakry until Tuesday morning. I'll know Conakry pretty well by then, I guess. Everything takes a long time in West Africa. It'll be a day to get to Freetown, Sierra Leone. A day to get back. A couple days there. On the way to Bamako, I'll spend the night, I think, in Mamou and Kankan. I'll get 2 or 3 visas in Bamako before trying to take a sporadic boat to Timbuktu. I hope I can complete my itinerary. It's going to be a long trip, though.
August 28, 2008 20:27 Guinea local time
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Restaurant Chinois
After an afternoon nap, I got up to go have Chinese food. Actually as soon as I got up, a hard rain started so I was trapped in my room for a couple of hours. But I got there at 8pm. It's a nice place. Apparently it caters to the local Chinese population. I'm not sure why there are so many Chinese people in Guinea. Anyway, they have a lot of stuff on the menu and the menu is in Chinese and French. The order was taken by a cue Chinese girl. I tried to impress her ordering mabo tofu with the Chinese name rather than the French name which was like French for Spicy Bean Curd With Minced Pork or something. Mabo tofu is never mabo tofu in English. But I think I blogged on that topic before. I didn't seem to impress her though. She just wrote it down and headed off to the kitchen.
After that, I headed off to MouNa, a fabulous internet cafe. They have fast connections and dozens of new computers. There were a lot of people there even at 9pm. I uploaded a few blog posts and did some other stuff.
August 27, 23:00 Guinea local time
After that, I headed off to MouNa, a fabulous internet cafe. They have fast connections and dozens of new computers. There were a lot of people there even at 9pm. I uploaded a few blog posts and did some other stuff.
August 27, 23:00 Guinea local time
Impressions Of The Republic Of Guinea
Guinea had grown on me. The rough trip from the border with Guinea-Bissau to Labé was a harsh introduction to what is actually a very nice country. The rural areas are pretty inexpensive, though not as inexpensive as in the Lonely Planet. Conakry itself is also about 2 or 3 times the Lonely Planet rates, but still cheap. It sort of has to be cheap since the largest denomination paper money bill is worth about $2. That means my pockets bulge with even small amounts of cash.
In Conakry, I'm hearing a new call. There is still the "Mon ami!" from the booth attendants in the Marché du Niger though they don't waste too much time since they are selling stuff like detergent and kitchen gadgets that tourists don't typically buy--but you never know--I'm looking for Mir Express, after all. But I'm hearing a lot "Patron! Patron! Boss! Boss!" as they try to ferret out which language I speak. It seems to be mostly the money changers doing this. The money changers are everywhere and they have to be since it's hard to deal with large amounts of money unless you have foreign currency. While they call me patron, they are always calling each other "Mon frere" ("my brother" in English though I haven't heard it in English).
I mentioned it in a previous post, but there is a lot of goodwill toward Americans here. I really didn't expect that. The security guard at the ATM of the bank had a Guinea security guard uniform, but he had an American flag patch stitched on the shoulder. I'm not sure why. The American flag motif is everywhere. The guy who had me fill out the check-in paper at the Hotel Niger is excited about Obama.
Guinea is artistic. There is a lot of public art. Big public art--an elephant at one roundabout, two huge antelope statues up on a column at the intersection near the Hotel Niger. There was public art in Labé as well.
I see these kids walking around clanging a piece of metal with a small rod. I'm not sure what they are doing.
Power is pretty unreliable. Water supply as well. And the vehicles are still in a bit a disrepair. A lot of the buses are old American school buses. I saw one that said Denton Lake Community Schools. I'm not sure which state has Denton Lake, but at least one of their old school buses wound up in Guinea.
They have roadside food vendors. The skewers look pretty good but I haven't had one yet. They make donuts, too. There are lot of people cooking on these charcoal stoves out by the side of the street.
It's the rainy season. It does a lot of the Seattle style sprinkling as well as the more traditional downpours.
I saw a kid with a new looking Reggie White #92 Green Bay Packers jersey. I saw an woman wearing an old Washington State T-shirt--I felt like saying "Go Cougs" to her, but I'm sure she wouldn't get it.
A lot of people here speak English.
In Conakry, I'm hearing a new call. There is still the "Mon ami!" from the booth attendants in the Marché du Niger though they don't waste too much time since they are selling stuff like detergent and kitchen gadgets that tourists don't typically buy--but you never know--I'm looking for Mir Express, after all. But I'm hearing a lot "Patron! Patron! Boss! Boss!" as they try to ferret out which language I speak. It seems to be mostly the money changers doing this. The money changers are everywhere and they have to be since it's hard to deal with large amounts of money unless you have foreign currency. While they call me patron, they are always calling each other "Mon frere" ("my brother" in English though I haven't heard it in English).
I mentioned it in a previous post, but there is a lot of goodwill toward Americans here. I really didn't expect that. The security guard at the ATM of the bank had a Guinea security guard uniform, but he had an American flag patch stitched on the shoulder. I'm not sure why. The American flag motif is everywhere. The guy who had me fill out the check-in paper at the Hotel Niger is excited about Obama.
Guinea is artistic. There is a lot of public art. Big public art--an elephant at one roundabout, two huge antelope statues up on a column at the intersection near the Hotel Niger. There was public art in Labé as well.
I see these kids walking around clanging a piece of metal with a small rod. I'm not sure what they are doing.
Power is pretty unreliable. Water supply as well. And the vehicles are still in a bit a disrepair. A lot of the buses are old American school buses. I saw one that said Denton Lake Community Schools. I'm not sure which state has Denton Lake, but at least one of their old school buses wound up in Guinea.
They have roadside food vendors. The skewers look pretty good but I haven't had one yet. They make donuts, too. There are lot of people cooking on these charcoal stoves out by the side of the street.
It's the rainy season. It does a lot of the Seattle style sprinkling as well as the more traditional downpours.
I saw a kid with a new looking Reggie White #92 Green Bay Packers jersey. I saw an woman wearing an old Washington State T-shirt--I felt like saying "Go Cougs" to her, but I'm sure she wouldn't get it.
A lot of people here speak English.
Relocating From Le Concorde To The Hotel Niger
I got up about 3am. A mouse had awakened me foraging around my donut fritter things and the tube of cookies. Also I heard the buzz of a mosquito. Fortunately, le Concorde is equipped with a mosquito net tied up above the bed, so I deployed it. But I couldn't get back to sleep. I didn't really want to stay at le Concorde another night and I was apprehensive about the Hotel Niger. I listened to some music to try to calm myself down. I must have dozed off because when I awoke again, it was about 6:30. I took a bucket water shower, brushed my teeth, shaved and packed. (Yes, I did take the condom, if you're curious.) Then I headed out to find the Hotel Niger in downtown Conakry.
I thought maybe I could walk it. My backpack was heavy and the laptop weighed a ton. But I actually managed for an hour and a half like this. I made significant progress, but I was only halfway there. I had been trying to figure out how the taxi system worked. At a couple points I evens stopped where a bunch of people were standing and taxis were stopping, but more people were coming and I didn't understand the system. Finally, too tired to continue, I saw a taxi that had just let off about 3 passengers and I asked if he going to La Ville. He said he was so I got in. As we drove I was happy to be riding instead of walking. I met a guy named François Conte who does IT work for Catholic Relief Services. I gave him my email since we are in similar fields. He was quite excited to meet a computer engineer from America.
They got me dropped off right in front of the Hotel Niger. I went in and asked for a room. Lonely Planet says GF35000 (US$7) but I got charged GF100000 (US$20). Hotel prices in Conakry seem to be coming up to more reasonable prices. The room is OK. The bathroom is huge. There is a sitting room and the bedroom. The ceiling is covered in a red, white, and blue tarp and I can hear vermin running around and see when they walk on the tarp. The bed has no sheets but it had a blanket. There is a bucket. They told me the electricity would eventually come on.
I needed some cash so I went to the BICIGUI and saw a line of about 10 people (one white) in front of the ATM. I waited and eventually got my turn whereupon I withdrew 4 tranches of GF200000 (US$40) so that I would have enough Guinea Francs if I could use them at the Malian embassy. Then I went off to find the Malian embassy. It actually isn't hard to find, but it's a bit of a walk--maybe a half hour. I got there at about 11:30. Today is a Guinea holiday--Women's Market Revolt Day. So I was worried the embassy would be closed to consular services. The gate was cracked a bit open--maybe 6 inches. I stood there. Then 2 guys came. I asked if they were open and they said the embassy was open and led me in. They were actually there for consular services also. One guy spoke English and was happy to have a chance to help me.
The charge d'affair's office is air conditioned. It felt good. He looked at my passport and told me what I feared--that I had to buy the biggest and best visa--a 5 year multiple entry visa. They refuse to issue anything lesser to us rich Americans. And on top of that, he wanted US currency--$131. That pretty much wiped out my supply of dollars. He wasn't terribly happy that I lacked a Benjamin Franklin but had only 2 Ulysses S. Grants. At least I have a good supply of Euros still. The good thing is that he told me to return at 1pm to get my passport. Nice. No overnight wait. I guess they better expedite it if they're going to charge me so much.
I went out and found a little stand where I sat down and drank an Orange Fanta for GF1800 (US$0.36). ThenI found a place called Food right by the place where the Corniche Nord passes over the road that goes by the People's Palace. I got a shawarma for GF15000 + GF2000 for eating it there. And boy am I glad I ate it there. They had AC. It wasn't the light AC, but a refreshing AC. Not super-refreshing, but enough to suck the heat away from me. When I finished, I decided to check out the Hyper-Bobo which was nearby. I found it and wandered the aisles. They didn't have Mir Express. But I bought 2 cans of ravioli for emergencies, a small bottle of Johnson's Baby powder (they didn't have Gold Bond), 2 postcards, and a Strawberry Fanta. The total was GF57000 (US$11.40).
I returned to the Malian embassy and sat in the waiting room. At 12:33, the guy came out and tapped me on the shoulder. He showed me the visa and explained that it was a multiple entry visa valid for 5 years. I smiled and thanked him. He seemed happy that I was happy to visit Mali. Then I headed to the Ghanaian embassy which is right next door. I figured why not get it here since I'll need it anyway. But after inspecting my passport for about a minute, the woman asked if I was a resident of Guinea. They only issue visas to residents of Guinea. That means I'll have to wait till I'm in Ouagadougou. Oh well. The Sierra Leone embassy is up toward the place I stayed last night. I passed it as I walked. Tomorrow I'll take a bus up that way and see how much the visa costs. If it's too expensive, I'll skip Sierra Leone. I wouldn't be able to spend a whole lot of time there anyway.
After my walk home, I rested in the hotel for a while. I was very dehydrated. I tried to spit and couldn't get enough force on the thick spit to get it separate from my mouth. I figured I better get something to drink. I went to Le Gondole, an ice cream shop. I got a scoop of caramel ice cream (4 oz for GF12000 or US$2.40) and a 1.5 liter bottle of water for GF8000 (US$1.60). The place had air conditioning. I ate the ice cream which was pretty good and drank all 1.5 liters of the water. By the time I was done, I felt much much better. Then I returned to my room to type this up since the power had returned.
August 27, 2008 16:23 Guinea local time
I thought maybe I could walk it. My backpack was heavy and the laptop weighed a ton. But I actually managed for an hour and a half like this. I made significant progress, but I was only halfway there. I had been trying to figure out how the taxi system worked. At a couple points I evens stopped where a bunch of people were standing and taxis were stopping, but more people were coming and I didn't understand the system. Finally, too tired to continue, I saw a taxi that had just let off about 3 passengers and I asked if he going to La Ville. He said he was so I got in. As we drove I was happy to be riding instead of walking. I met a guy named François Conte who does IT work for Catholic Relief Services. I gave him my email since we are in similar fields. He was quite excited to meet a computer engineer from America.
They got me dropped off right in front of the Hotel Niger. I went in and asked for a room. Lonely Planet says GF35000 (US$7) but I got charged GF100000 (US$20). Hotel prices in Conakry seem to be coming up to more reasonable prices. The room is OK. The bathroom is huge. There is a sitting room and the bedroom. The ceiling is covered in a red, white, and blue tarp and I can hear vermin running around and see when they walk on the tarp. The bed has no sheets but it had a blanket. There is a bucket. They told me the electricity would eventually come on.
I needed some cash so I went to the BICIGUI and saw a line of about 10 people (one white) in front of the ATM. I waited and eventually got my turn whereupon I withdrew 4 tranches of GF200000 (US$40) so that I would have enough Guinea Francs if I could use them at the Malian embassy. Then I went off to find the Malian embassy. It actually isn't hard to find, but it's a bit of a walk--maybe a half hour. I got there at about 11:30. Today is a Guinea holiday--Women's Market Revolt Day. So I was worried the embassy would be closed to consular services. The gate was cracked a bit open--maybe 6 inches. I stood there. Then 2 guys came. I asked if they were open and they said the embassy was open and led me in. They were actually there for consular services also. One guy spoke English and was happy to have a chance to help me.
The charge d'affair's office is air conditioned. It felt good. He looked at my passport and told me what I feared--that I had to buy the biggest and best visa--a 5 year multiple entry visa. They refuse to issue anything lesser to us rich Americans. And on top of that, he wanted US currency--$131. That pretty much wiped out my supply of dollars. He wasn't terribly happy that I lacked a Benjamin Franklin but had only 2 Ulysses S. Grants. At least I have a good supply of Euros still. The good thing is that he told me to return at 1pm to get my passport. Nice. No overnight wait. I guess they better expedite it if they're going to charge me so much.
I went out and found a little stand where I sat down and drank an Orange Fanta for GF1800 (US$0.36). ThenI found a place called Food right by the place where the Corniche Nord passes over the road that goes by the People's Palace. I got a shawarma for GF15000 + GF2000 for eating it there. And boy am I glad I ate it there. They had AC. It wasn't the light AC, but a refreshing AC. Not super-refreshing, but enough to suck the heat away from me. When I finished, I decided to check out the Hyper-Bobo which was nearby. I found it and wandered the aisles. They didn't have Mir Express. But I bought 2 cans of ravioli for emergencies, a small bottle of Johnson's Baby powder (they didn't have Gold Bond), 2 postcards, and a Strawberry Fanta. The total was GF57000 (US$11.40).
I returned to the Malian embassy and sat in the waiting room. At 12:33, the guy came out and tapped me on the shoulder. He showed me the visa and explained that it was a multiple entry visa valid for 5 years. I smiled and thanked him. He seemed happy that I was happy to visit Mali. Then I headed to the Ghanaian embassy which is right next door. I figured why not get it here since I'll need it anyway. But after inspecting my passport for about a minute, the woman asked if I was a resident of Guinea. They only issue visas to residents of Guinea. That means I'll have to wait till I'm in Ouagadougou. Oh well. The Sierra Leone embassy is up toward the place I stayed last night. I passed it as I walked. Tomorrow I'll take a bus up that way and see how much the visa costs. If it's too expensive, I'll skip Sierra Leone. I wouldn't be able to spend a whole lot of time there anyway.
After my walk home, I rested in the hotel for a while. I was very dehydrated. I tried to spit and couldn't get enough force on the thick spit to get it separate from my mouth. I figured I better get something to drink. I went to Le Gondole, an ice cream shop. I got a scoop of caramel ice cream (4 oz for GF12000 or US$2.40) and a 1.5 liter bottle of water for GF8000 (US$1.60). The place had air conditioning. I ate the ice cream which was pretty good and drank all 1.5 liters of the water. By the time I was done, I felt much much better. Then I returned to my room to type this up since the power had returned.
August 27, 2008 16:23 Guinea local time
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Labé To Conakry
Since my hotel room at the Hotel d'Independence overlooked the gare voiture, I saw that it was very busy all day long. So I thought I could sleep in a tad. I got up at about 7 and started going to the bathroom. My pizza last night was accompanied by a very hot condiment served with a sort of rosemary pizza crust wedge thing. Mmmmm.... Spicy sauce and rosemary. It was divine. But I felt it in the morning and I had to get my gastrointestinal tract ready for a trip to Conakry. After a couple trips, I felt flushed and used the last of my buckets of water to flush the toilet as best I could. Then I took down the lifesaving mosquito net and the ropes it hung from and packed all my stuff. I got to the gare, just outside my hotel room window at about 8am. There was a minibus already almost full and a sept-place that looked completely full. The bus was GF57000 (US$12) and they didn't charge extra for the bag. I decided to take the bus. What the hell. The people waiting on a minibus really appreciate it when a passenger joins them and reduces the wait. And I was the last one. My stuff got loaded and I was given the front seat by the door. There was one guy sharing the bucket seat with me and a girl in the space between the bucket seats. I had my left sitz bone in the seat and the right sitz bone up on the raised part. So there was quite an imbalance. The guy to my left was wedged against me pretty tight but my right side was against the door and that felt OK. This is a 408 km trip (245 miles). That's 50% longer than my trip from Koundara, but the roads are supposed to be much better so the Lonely Planet projects 8 hours for this trip as well. They loaded up chickens, tying down one leg on each to the netting so they wouldn't fall off the roof.
At 8:20 we were off. The road was good. Very nice. We were able to go pretty fast. I noticed that the roads in this section have stones telling the number of kilometers to the next relatively major town. Very nice. We passed some small settlements and at 9:20 took a bathroom break. The girl who was in the space between the bucket seats didn't like being there because the driver didn't want her legs near the stick shift, so she switched with a small boy. She also took of a layer of her clothing which meant briefly getting topless right there on the side of the road. She had nice breasts. ;-) A guy asked me where I was from. I told him America. He smiled and shook my hand. The American flag motif is fairly common in Africa but much more so, it seems, in Guinea. They love the American flag. It's everywhere. There seems to be a lot of goodwill toward us. The thing about America is that it represents some really good things and some really bad things. It's a question of what you want to emphasize or deny. Guinea seems to be a country that's pretty well grounded. Labé was actually quite nice, for example. The people seem to be trying to work to develop themselves and their country. And America is a metaphor for what people are able to accomplish. I suppose that is what they see. Not the plundering America but the America where the people work hard to improve their conditions of life. That is the example they aspire to.
Around 10am, we stopped at a roadside village and the driver bought some meat. He attached it to the top of the van, not in a bag or anything--just like that.
We took off again and had a pretty uneventful trip until about noon when we stopped in a village whose sole reason for existence seems to be to service the traffic coming through. Most of the people got off and got some sort of rice with meat sauce. I bought a Strawberry Fanta and a tube of cookies for GF8000 (US$1.60). After a few minutes, a girl walked by with some fritters or something on her head. They smelled good. I watched as she set up and a guy came and bought 5. Then I went over. Not knowing what they were I asked for 2. She took the GF1500 (US$3) I had in my hand and gave me 10. I guess 2 means 2 orders of 5. I bit into one. Pretty good--like donut holes but a bit denser. I waited and the driver came by repeating some phrase that I'm sure means "All aboard" and he said it to me smiling and I tried to repeat it and he laughed. When we got in, he put a cassette into the tape recorder and pointed at me and said "for you". It was an interesting cassette. It was a French guy playing various Bob Marley tunes. He would sing over parts of the Marley in English and then interpret what he just sang into French. It was also pretty religious. An interesting tape.
We stopped at about 1:20 to pick up a bunch of bags of leaves. I don't know what sort of leaves they were. Soon it started to rain. The water was leaking right onto me until the driver noticed my distress. There was a piece of tarp in the door that prevented the gasket from sealing properly so he stopped so I could open and reclose the door without the tarp. That made all the difference. We stopped and got some gas. Then we were off again. At about 2:20, we stopped at another roadside village and unloaded some of the bags of leaves.
An hour later, it looked like Conakry was coming into view. The stones on the side of the road indicated it was coming up. We hit some heavy traffic. A police checkpoint stopped us and the officer looked at my passport and the papers of the guy next to me. He spent some time looking at the cover of the passport. Actually, the guy at the Hotel Visiom in Gabú did to. I understand why. To me, the cover of a US passport is the ultimate expression of America. Not the Stars and Stripes. But the dark blue passport with "PASSPORT" and "United States of America" in gold lettering with the golden eagle in the middle. That means America. That means freedom to travel almost anywhere. That means that where ever I go, the cachet of being an American follows me. And there is no cachet like the American cachet. Anyone can show the American flag--and they do here in Guinea. But not anyone can show a US passport. That is truly special.
Then around 5pm we arrived at the gare where we stopped.
I wanted to go to the Pension La Maison Blanche, a cheap place in the Kipé neighborhood of Conakry. I headed toward the taxi stand and when I got there, the lead taxi was bound for Kipé. Yay! I loaded my backpack into the back and got in. We went about 2km to an intersection where everyone got out. We were actually close to where the Maison Blanche was on the map, so the driver offered to take me. I should have said no, but I didn't.
He started going toward the south which was right. It's partly my fault because he had asked someone for directions and received "directions" and was going to follow them. I recognized a couple names of places, the Ocean Hotel and the San Remo pizzeria. When I looked at the map, it was obvious that we had passed the place where the Maison Blanche was supposed to be. He tried to take me to some Mariador hotels but I kept trying to tell him to turn around and go back north. He either waited, or asked people (no longer in the neighborhood of the Maison Blanche) where the Maison Blanche was. They kept telling him and he kept going south. Everytime I told him we were too far south and had to go north about 2 km, he would stop and wait and think for a while and then drive half a block and ask somebody. Finally, after about a half hour, I got him turned around. We got to a restaurant, Le Waffou which is very close to the Maison Blanche icon. But we couldn't find it. I kept telling him to let me off and I'd find it myself, but he said Guinea was dangerous and wouldn't let me out. He wouldn't quote a price. Finally he called someone who spoke English and had me talk to this guy. This guy told me the Maison Blanche didn't exist anymore and I'd have to choose another hotel. There was one nearby called the Hotel Mixte, so I told the driver how to get there. In that approximate area there was a pension La Concorde. OK, that'll do. We went in and the driver went in. I didn't like that. I want him to drive, not ask for rooms. I got my stuff and went in. The proprietor of the place quoted me GF80000 which was more than twice the Maison Blanches' GF35000 I was hoping to pay. Actually with inflation, I didn't expect it to be that low. OK, it's late. I felt ripped off. The taxi driver then charged me GF10000 after my unproductive hour with him. That was a ripoff too. It was GF1000 from the gare to the intersection where everyone got off which was just meters away from the intersection of the Maison Blanche. In the end, they aren't that bad of ripoffs though. The hotel comes to US$16 and the taxi ride was US$2. All in all, it's cheap.
So I was at the hotel. This is a hotel that rents rooms by the hour. All the rooms were full. The owner had me sit down and I ordered a beer. It wasn't cold but it was cool. It'll have to do. It was starting to get dark. The owner came with some bed sheets for me. When you stay in a hotel that rents by the hour, bedsheets are probably something you want fresh. It got dark--about 7:20. I was sitting there in the dark. They fired up a generator--loud as hell. A couple emerged from the area of the rooms--about 10 seconds later the nice smell of a nice perfume--she smelled good.
A few minutes after they emerged, the owner took me to the room. It was OK. No running water, generator electricity till 10pm and Co-Op electricity after 10--when I could use the AC. I had my sheet and a towel, there was a fresh bucket of water, and a there was condom on the table. I know I have a rule of no sex in Africa, but maybe I'll take it just in case.
After that, I headed out to eat. I figured I'd eat at Le Waffou. I must have passed it because I went too far. I had my Freeplay Indigo lantern and La Route. The lantern wasn't on and as I walked along, I fell into a 3 foot deep hole on the side of the road. I was OK. My lantern was OK. My wrist hurt a bit, and my ankle was a bit twisted, but nothing I couldn't walk off.
I found Le Waffou--it's no on the main drag, but next to a place called Top Banana which is on the main drag. I entered. They had a super load generator going. I tried to order over the generator. The girl asked me what I wanted to eat. They had chicken and fish. I said I wanted chicken and frites. Then I want a Skol beer, but she didn't understand. I tried to explain it was a boisson but she kept thinking I was changing my order from poulet to poisson. No, not poisson, boisson. Skol is a boisson. You want poisson? Finally she called an English speaker over and I told him I wanted chicken with fries and a Skol. He explained it to her, then recommended a seat further away from the fracas caused by the generator.
Again, the beer wasn't that cold. In Labé the beers were ice cold. These were just passably chilled. She brought a tub of water and a bottle of soapy water. For washing my hands. Interesting. But all was well when the chicken came. It had julienned onions, a hot sauce on the side, and bits of tomato. It was the best chicken I've had on the African continent. It was absolutely delicious. I don't know if it is a repeatable experience, but I'll recommend the Waffou chicken to anyone.
Then I settled my bill GF25000 + GF5000 for the chicken and beer or US$6. I found my way home in the dark. Tomorrow I have to find a better place. But for tonight I'm here.
August 26, 2008 22:22 Guinea local time
At 8:20 we were off. The road was good. Very nice. We were able to go pretty fast. I noticed that the roads in this section have stones telling the number of kilometers to the next relatively major town. Very nice. We passed some small settlements and at 9:20 took a bathroom break. The girl who was in the space between the bucket seats didn't like being there because the driver didn't want her legs near the stick shift, so she switched with a small boy. She also took of a layer of her clothing which meant briefly getting topless right there on the side of the road. She had nice breasts. ;-) A guy asked me where I was from. I told him America. He smiled and shook my hand. The American flag motif is fairly common in Africa but much more so, it seems, in Guinea. They love the American flag. It's everywhere. There seems to be a lot of goodwill toward us. The thing about America is that it represents some really good things and some really bad things. It's a question of what you want to emphasize or deny. Guinea seems to be a country that's pretty well grounded. Labé was actually quite nice, for example. The people seem to be trying to work to develop themselves and their country. And America is a metaphor for what people are able to accomplish. I suppose that is what they see. Not the plundering America but the America where the people work hard to improve their conditions of life. That is the example they aspire to.
Around 10am, we stopped at a roadside village and the driver bought some meat. He attached it to the top of the van, not in a bag or anything--just like that.
We took off again and had a pretty uneventful trip until about noon when we stopped in a village whose sole reason for existence seems to be to service the traffic coming through. Most of the people got off and got some sort of rice with meat sauce. I bought a Strawberry Fanta and a tube of cookies for GF8000 (US$1.60). After a few minutes, a girl walked by with some fritters or something on her head. They smelled good. I watched as she set up and a guy came and bought 5. Then I went over. Not knowing what they were I asked for 2. She took the GF1500 (US$3) I had in my hand and gave me 10. I guess 2 means 2 orders of 5. I bit into one. Pretty good--like donut holes but a bit denser. I waited and the driver came by repeating some phrase that I'm sure means "All aboard" and he said it to me smiling and I tried to repeat it and he laughed. When we got in, he put a cassette into the tape recorder and pointed at me and said "for you". It was an interesting cassette. It was a French guy playing various Bob Marley tunes. He would sing over parts of the Marley in English and then interpret what he just sang into French. It was also pretty religious. An interesting tape.
We stopped at about 1:20 to pick up a bunch of bags of leaves. I don't know what sort of leaves they were. Soon it started to rain. The water was leaking right onto me until the driver noticed my distress. There was a piece of tarp in the door that prevented the gasket from sealing properly so he stopped so I could open and reclose the door without the tarp. That made all the difference. We stopped and got some gas. Then we were off again. At about 2:20, we stopped at another roadside village and unloaded some of the bags of leaves.
An hour later, it looked like Conakry was coming into view. The stones on the side of the road indicated it was coming up. We hit some heavy traffic. A police checkpoint stopped us and the officer looked at my passport and the papers of the guy next to me. He spent some time looking at the cover of the passport. Actually, the guy at the Hotel Visiom in Gabú did to. I understand why. To me, the cover of a US passport is the ultimate expression of America. Not the Stars and Stripes. But the dark blue passport with "PASSPORT" and "United States of America" in gold lettering with the golden eagle in the middle. That means America. That means freedom to travel almost anywhere. That means that where ever I go, the cachet of being an American follows me. And there is no cachet like the American cachet. Anyone can show the American flag--and they do here in Guinea. But not anyone can show a US passport. That is truly special.
Then around 5pm we arrived at the gare where we stopped.
I wanted to go to the Pension La Maison Blanche, a cheap place in the Kipé neighborhood of Conakry. I headed toward the taxi stand and when I got there, the lead taxi was bound for Kipé. Yay! I loaded my backpack into the back and got in. We went about 2km to an intersection where everyone got out. We were actually close to where the Maison Blanche was on the map, so the driver offered to take me. I should have said no, but I didn't.
He started going toward the south which was right. It's partly my fault because he had asked someone for directions and received "directions" and was going to follow them. I recognized a couple names of places, the Ocean Hotel and the San Remo pizzeria. When I looked at the map, it was obvious that we had passed the place where the Maison Blanche was supposed to be. He tried to take me to some Mariador hotels but I kept trying to tell him to turn around and go back north. He either waited, or asked people (no longer in the neighborhood of the Maison Blanche) where the Maison Blanche was. They kept telling him and he kept going south. Everytime I told him we were too far south and had to go north about 2 km, he would stop and wait and think for a while and then drive half a block and ask somebody. Finally, after about a half hour, I got him turned around. We got to a restaurant, Le Waffou which is very close to the Maison Blanche icon. But we couldn't find it. I kept telling him to let me off and I'd find it myself, but he said Guinea was dangerous and wouldn't let me out. He wouldn't quote a price. Finally he called someone who spoke English and had me talk to this guy. This guy told me the Maison Blanche didn't exist anymore and I'd have to choose another hotel. There was one nearby called the Hotel Mixte, so I told the driver how to get there. In that approximate area there was a pension La Concorde. OK, that'll do. We went in and the driver went in. I didn't like that. I want him to drive, not ask for rooms. I got my stuff and went in. The proprietor of the place quoted me GF80000 which was more than twice the Maison Blanches' GF35000 I was hoping to pay. Actually with inflation, I didn't expect it to be that low. OK, it's late. I felt ripped off. The taxi driver then charged me GF10000 after my unproductive hour with him. That was a ripoff too. It was GF1000 from the gare to the intersection where everyone got off which was just meters away from the intersection of the Maison Blanche. In the end, they aren't that bad of ripoffs though. The hotel comes to US$16 and the taxi ride was US$2. All in all, it's cheap.
So I was at the hotel. This is a hotel that rents rooms by the hour. All the rooms were full. The owner had me sit down and I ordered a beer. It wasn't cold but it was cool. It'll have to do. It was starting to get dark. The owner came with some bed sheets for me. When you stay in a hotel that rents by the hour, bedsheets are probably something you want fresh. It got dark--about 7:20. I was sitting there in the dark. They fired up a generator--loud as hell. A couple emerged from the area of the rooms--about 10 seconds later the nice smell of a nice perfume--she smelled good.
A few minutes after they emerged, the owner took me to the room. It was OK. No running water, generator electricity till 10pm and Co-Op electricity after 10--when I could use the AC. I had my sheet and a towel, there was a fresh bucket of water, and a there was condom on the table. I know I have a rule of no sex in Africa, but maybe I'll take it just in case.
After that, I headed out to eat. I figured I'd eat at Le Waffou. I must have passed it because I went too far. I had my Freeplay Indigo lantern and La Route. The lantern wasn't on and as I walked along, I fell into a 3 foot deep hole on the side of the road. I was OK. My lantern was OK. My wrist hurt a bit, and my ankle was a bit twisted, but nothing I couldn't walk off.
I found Le Waffou--it's no on the main drag, but next to a place called Top Banana which is on the main drag. I entered. They had a super load generator going. I tried to order over the generator. The girl asked me what I wanted to eat. They had chicken and fish. I said I wanted chicken and frites. Then I want a Skol beer, but she didn't understand. I tried to explain it was a boisson but she kept thinking I was changing my order from poulet to poisson. No, not poisson, boisson. Skol is a boisson. You want poisson? Finally she called an English speaker over and I told him I wanted chicken with fries and a Skol. He explained it to her, then recommended a seat further away from the fracas caused by the generator.
Again, the beer wasn't that cold. In Labé the beers were ice cold. These were just passably chilled. She brought a tub of water and a bottle of soapy water. For washing my hands. Interesting. But all was well when the chicken came. It had julienned onions, a hot sauce on the side, and bits of tomato. It was the best chicken I've had on the African continent. It was absolutely delicious. I don't know if it is a repeatable experience, but I'll recommend the Waffou chicken to anyone.
Then I settled my bill GF25000 + GF5000 for the chicken and beer or US$6. I found my way home in the dark. Tomorrow I have to find a better place. But for tonight I'm here.
August 26, 2008 22:22 Guinea local time
Monday, August 25, 2008
Another Day In Labé
I had opened my window to help my laundry dry and at about 3am I was awakened by mosquitos. I turned on my rechargeable Freeplay Indigo lantern (one of my smartest purchases in Canada) and I realized that there are holders for curtain rods on the wall opposite the windows. That meant there was something to hook onto on both sides of the bed in the plane of the headboard and footboard. In other words, this was the ideal situation for rigging up my mosquito net. Twenty minutes later, I had a mosquito net over my entire bed at the perfect height and size. Yay!!! The mosquitos didn't bother me for the rest of the night. :-)
It's Monday and I'm watching my bankroll of Guinea Francs disappear like Hurstwood's bankroll in Sister Carrie. Lonely Planet said the Banque of Commerce and Industrie de Guinea does cash advances on a Visa, so I decided I would do that before the checkout time so I could stay here one more night. That particular bank is not specifically shown on the Labé map in the Lonely Planet but there is an unlabeled $ in the downtown region. I headed toward that. It was the bank. And lo and behold, they have an ATM. I thought I'd give it a try. There was a sign saying for tout securité to take out your money in GF200000 tranches. I slightly misinterpreted that and tried to take out 400000. I heard the cash being distributed but nothing came out. So I tried again, this time 200000. This time it worked, I took out another 200000. Guinea Francs are thick and the largest denomination bill I've seen is GF10000 which is worth US$2. So Guinea money tends to be thick stacks. Mom & Dad, please check my visa account to make sure that they didn't charge me with the first 400000 transaction. There should be 2 transactions for about $40 each (plus ATM charges) from the BICIGUI in Labé.
Having the money in hand, I explored the other part of the Labé downtown. I like Labé. It's a bit artistic and the people are active. Guinea is actually a pretty nice place once you get out of the uncivilized part. I'm not sure I'd want to live here, but Labé is good enough to linger in for a while. I went back to the hotel and paid for tonight. Then I asked about the big bus as stated in the Lonely Planet. They said there is no big bus--just minibuses and sept-places to Conakry. I guess I'll take one of those tomorrow.
That done, it was time to head off to the internet cafe. I should have done it yesterday, but I didn't. People are probably worried. The connection was spotty but I managed to get most of what I needed done. My parents got freaked out by a comment on my "Heading To Guinea-Bissau" post from someone named Anne. I'd like to thank Anne. She made it sound dangerous, risky and exciting. Should impress the girls. ;-) It's like the original trailer to Casablanca that you find in the DVD. "The world's most dangerous man in the world's most dangerous city." LOL That's not Casablanca, but the makers of the trailer thought it was just another throw-away movie and didn't know it was destined to be the classic it became so they distorted the plot to fill the theater. In fact, I hope my truth is also more impressive to girls than the distortion. ;-) I'm not denying that Guinea-Bissau has the problems she mentioned, but so does Miami and I wouldn't be afraid to go there. And she is right that Guinea-Bissau is not a place for tourists--when you define "tourist" as the type of person who wants sip piña coladas by the poolside. But I'm not that "tourist". The fact is that if you don't mind a lack of running water/electricity and you stock up enough CFA before you enter, Guinea-Bissau isn't such a bad place, especially once you get out of Bissau. Gabú was nice. I liked it and it liked me. Tourists are definitely an oddity there and that gives us cachet. When you pass people with 12 others in the sept-place, their eyes are usually one mine--the sole blanc in the sept-place. I don't mind being an oddity. I'm even an oddity in the United States. It's one of the reasons I like Capitol Hill--everyone is an oddity there. The Guinea-Bissauians aren't out to rip me off, either. That's refreshing after Senegal and Gambia which aim to be tourist destinations. The vendors of woodcarvings outside the Pensão Centrale didn't even try to engage me. In Senegal, the same vendors would have hounded me for blocks. The biggest problem by far is that the colonial language is Portuguese. But between Spanish, French, and English, something sticks and you can get your point across.
Anyway, now I was hungry. I returned to Le Calebasse where I had the shawarma the previous day. This time I had a hamburger for GF10000 (US$2). It was interesting. The bun was really thick and chewy. There was a meat patty, fried egg, french fries--not on the side but between the buns with the patty and egg, ketchup and a pinkish sauce--maybe thousand Island dressing. It was pretty tasty. I got 3 more beers and watched the satellite TV showing a Cameroonian network with Spanish soap opera dubbed into French, the Escale Marine report telling what ships were at the port and when other ships were expected, and other stuff. A white couple and 2 Africans came in and ate and left. The girl was cute. They spoke in French and probably saw that I was reading La Route.
In the evening I headed to the Hotel Tata and got there right after 7pm. They indeed have quite the pizza menu. I got the Pizza Americain with ham, garlic, and msuhrooms. Yummy. It was about 8 or 9 inches in diameter, thin crust, bubbling hot, and the best pizza I had in a long time. It was GF30000 (US$6) and a Skol beer was GF8000 ($1.60). The walk home was in pitch black. The moto-taxis were running around though they were a double edged sword. On one hand their headlights illuminated the ground, but on the other hand, their headlights were blinding.
August 25, 22:10 Guinea local time
It's Monday and I'm watching my bankroll of Guinea Francs disappear like Hurstwood's bankroll in Sister Carrie. Lonely Planet said the Banque of Commerce and Industrie de Guinea does cash advances on a Visa, so I decided I would do that before the checkout time so I could stay here one more night. That particular bank is not specifically shown on the Labé map in the Lonely Planet but there is an unlabeled $ in the downtown region. I headed toward that. It was the bank. And lo and behold, they have an ATM. I thought I'd give it a try. There was a sign saying for tout securité to take out your money in GF200000 tranches. I slightly misinterpreted that and tried to take out 400000. I heard the cash being distributed but nothing came out. So I tried again, this time 200000. This time it worked, I took out another 200000. Guinea Francs are thick and the largest denomination bill I've seen is GF10000 which is worth US$2. So Guinea money tends to be thick stacks. Mom & Dad, please check my visa account to make sure that they didn't charge me with the first 400000 transaction. There should be 2 transactions for about $40 each (plus ATM charges) from the BICIGUI in Labé.
Having the money in hand, I explored the other part of the Labé downtown. I like Labé. It's a bit artistic and the people are active. Guinea is actually a pretty nice place once you get out of the uncivilized part. I'm not sure I'd want to live here, but Labé is good enough to linger in for a while. I went back to the hotel and paid for tonight. Then I asked about the big bus as stated in the Lonely Planet. They said there is no big bus--just minibuses and sept-places to Conakry. I guess I'll take one of those tomorrow.
That done, it was time to head off to the internet cafe. I should have done it yesterday, but I didn't. People are probably worried. The connection was spotty but I managed to get most of what I needed done. My parents got freaked out by a comment on my "Heading To Guinea-Bissau" post from someone named Anne. I'd like to thank Anne. She made it sound dangerous, risky and exciting. Should impress the girls. ;-) It's like the original trailer to Casablanca that you find in the DVD. "The world's most dangerous man in the world's most dangerous city." LOL That's not Casablanca, but the makers of the trailer thought it was just another throw-away movie and didn't know it was destined to be the classic it became so they distorted the plot to fill the theater. In fact, I hope my truth is also more impressive to girls than the distortion. ;-) I'm not denying that Guinea-Bissau has the problems she mentioned, but so does Miami and I wouldn't be afraid to go there. And she is right that Guinea-Bissau is not a place for tourists--when you define "tourist" as the type of person who wants sip piña coladas by the poolside. But I'm not that "tourist". The fact is that if you don't mind a lack of running water/electricity and you stock up enough CFA before you enter, Guinea-Bissau isn't such a bad place, especially once you get out of Bissau. Gabú was nice. I liked it and it liked me. Tourists are definitely an oddity there and that gives us cachet. When you pass people with 12 others in the sept-place, their eyes are usually one mine--the sole blanc in the sept-place. I don't mind being an oddity. I'm even an oddity in the United States. It's one of the reasons I like Capitol Hill--everyone is an oddity there. The Guinea-Bissauians aren't out to rip me off, either. That's refreshing after Senegal and Gambia which aim to be tourist destinations. The vendors of woodcarvings outside the Pensão Centrale didn't even try to engage me. In Senegal, the same vendors would have hounded me for blocks. The biggest problem by far is that the colonial language is Portuguese. But between Spanish, French, and English, something sticks and you can get your point across.
Anyway, now I was hungry. I returned to Le Calebasse where I had the shawarma the previous day. This time I had a hamburger for GF10000 (US$2). It was interesting. The bun was really thick and chewy. There was a meat patty, fried egg, french fries--not on the side but between the buns with the patty and egg, ketchup and a pinkish sauce--maybe thousand Island dressing. It was pretty tasty. I got 3 more beers and watched the satellite TV showing a Cameroonian network with Spanish soap opera dubbed into French, the Escale Marine report telling what ships were at the port and when other ships were expected, and other stuff. A white couple and 2 Africans came in and ate and left. The girl was cute. They spoke in French and probably saw that I was reading La Route.
In the evening I headed to the Hotel Tata and got there right after 7pm. They indeed have quite the pizza menu. I got the Pizza Americain with ham, garlic, and msuhrooms. Yummy. It was about 8 or 9 inches in diameter, thin crust, bubbling hot, and the best pizza I had in a long time. It was GF30000 (US$6) and a Skol beer was GF8000 ($1.60). The walk home was in pitch black. The moto-taxis were running around though they were a double edged sword. On one hand their headlights illuminated the ground, but on the other hand, their headlights were blinding.
August 25, 22:10 Guinea local time
Blog Dump
I'm at an internet cafe with horrible connction and horrible sticky keyboard. Apolgie for short emails. This keyboard is just a pain. Also, apologies for long delay in posting. Guinea Bissau is not exactly in the 20th Century. Anyway, as you can see, I am safe and sound and enjoying a well-deserved rest in Labe. I'll head to Conakr tomorrow on what should be much better roads.
Anyway, I loaded a slew of blog posts bqckdated to when I wrote them. They are best read in chronoloical order from the trip to Bissau to my time in Labe. It was the most grueling trip in Arica so far. Enjoy.
Less than a week to Ramadan. I get to travel in Muslim Africa when there is fastig during daylight. Should be fun. ;-)
Next post will be from Conakry, the capital of Guinea.
Anyway, I loaded a slew of blog posts bqckdated to when I wrote them. They are best read in chronoloical order from the trip to Bissau to my time in Labe. It was the most grueling trip in Arica so far. Enjoy.
Less than a week to Ramadan. I get to travel in Muslim Africa when there is fastig during daylight. Should be fun. ;-)
Next post will be from Conakry, the capital of Guinea.
Bachelor Nachos
Being away from the food you enjoy tends to make you think about food a lot. I offer this recipe of my own creation that I used to make when I felt I could cheat on my calorie budget a bit.
It's the perfect snack for nights watching The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, Family Guy, South Park, Washington Journal segments, House and Senate committee and subcommittee meetings, press conferences, and forums and panel discussions on C-SPAN and C-SPAN2 (+ BookTV).
- 1 can canned spicy chili without beans
- 1 bag Tostitos
- 1 jar hot Pace picante sauce
- 1 bag shredded Tex Mex cheese
- 1 can pickled jalapeños
- 1 tub sour cream
It's the perfect snack for nights watching The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, Family Guy, South Park, Washington Journal segments, House and Senate committee and subcommittee meetings, press conferences, and forums and panel discussions on C-SPAN and C-SPAN2 (+ BookTV).
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Chillin' In Labé
Ah, Labé. It's high in altitude so it's cool, and there aren't mosquitoes like down on the coast. In fact, I had to haul out the blanket last night. Yes. It's nice to be cold. I slept in late. I woke up to water running and realized that the plumbing leaks like a sieve. No wonder it's off most of the time. I took advantage of the window of opportunity to take a quick--and very cold--shower. I used the lid of the toilet tank to direct the leak into the bucket which I use to flush the toilet. Might as well fill it up with leak water, eh?
I listened to music until 11am. I paid for 2 nights--last night and tonight. Each night is GF35000 or about US$7. Then I went to a place just across the street and got a shawarma for GF5000 and a Skol beer for GF6000. The shawarma had peas in it. Cool. A pretty good meal for US$2. Then I went off to the Hotel Tata to find if they had pizza. On the way, I got a shave for GF1000 (US$0.20) but I tipped him another GF1000. I went to where I thought the Tata was--where I saw it last night, but all it was was a sign board advertising it. I guy across the street asked me what I was looking for and I told him. He told me it was pretty far and I should flag down a moto-taxi and expect to pay about GF4000. In fact I paid GF3000 and it was pretty far--especially as it had started to rain. I had a Skol for GF8000 and a chicken with fries for GF25000. That's US$1.60 and US$5 respectively. I pulled out my La Route and they asked if that was the guide book. I said no, but I had the guide book and pulled it out. Apparently they haven't seen the latest West Africa Lonely Planet and were anxious to see what it said about them. I signed the Hotel Tata guestbook and put this blog address in it.
I walked home marveling that I'm actually able to get by pretty well in French. I'm having complex conversations, but basic conversations about general topics. I'm very happy with the progress of my French. I was happy all the way home because of that. I can't imagine traveling here without a little bit of French. I wish I spoke it better. But it was certainly worth every minute I put into learning it.
When I got back to my room, I washed 3 pair of underwear, 2 shirts, and my pants. Boy was the water brown when I finished. Unbelievably brown and yucky. But after it was done, my clothes were clean. The Mir Express handwashing detergent is wonderful. I hope I can find another tube in Conakry. Even the crotch of underwear unchanged for days smells just how I would want my sheets to smell when I first brought a woman I liked to my bed. It's that good.
August 24, 2008 15:30 Guinea local time
I listened to music until 11am. I paid for 2 nights--last night and tonight. Each night is GF35000 or about US$7. Then I went to a place just across the street and got a shawarma for GF5000 and a Skol beer for GF6000. The shawarma had peas in it. Cool. A pretty good meal for US$2. Then I went off to the Hotel Tata to find if they had pizza. On the way, I got a shave for GF1000 (US$0.20) but I tipped him another GF1000. I went to where I thought the Tata was--where I saw it last night, but all it was was a sign board advertising it. I guy across the street asked me what I was looking for and I told him. He told me it was pretty far and I should flag down a moto-taxi and expect to pay about GF4000. In fact I paid GF3000 and it was pretty far--especially as it had started to rain. I had a Skol for GF8000 and a chicken with fries for GF25000. That's US$1.60 and US$5 respectively. I pulled out my La Route and they asked if that was the guide book. I said no, but I had the guide book and pulled it out. Apparently they haven't seen the latest West Africa Lonely Planet and were anxious to see what it said about them. I signed the Hotel Tata guestbook and put this blog address in it.
I walked home marveling that I'm actually able to get by pretty well in French. I'm having complex conversations, but basic conversations about general topics. I'm very happy with the progress of my French. I was happy all the way home because of that. I can't imagine traveling here without a little bit of French. I wish I spoke it better. But it was certainly worth every minute I put into learning it.
When I got back to my room, I washed 3 pair of underwear, 2 shirts, and my pants. Boy was the water brown when I finished. Unbelievably brown and yucky. But after it was done, my clothes were clean. The Mir Express handwashing detergent is wonderful. I hope I can find another tube in Conakry. Even the crotch of underwear unchanged for days smells just how I would want my sheets to smell when I first brought a woman I liked to my bed. It's that good.
August 24, 2008 15:30 Guinea local time
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Koundara To Labé: Did I Really Subtitle Yesterday's Post "A Test In Patience"?
I got up this morning at about 6:30 and packed by lantern light. I didn't sleep well at all--people were up and talking until about 4am. And the electricity cut out at 12:30am. Koundara is a place to stay overnight on the way to Labé but not a place to linger. I wanted to leave, but there was nobody to pay. Finally, the cleaner came and I had him wake whoever it was who I needed to pay. The guy came down and got his GF25000 (US$5). Then it was off to the gare voiture to get a sept-place to Labé.
The gare voiture was pretty easy to find: leave the Nyfala, turn right. Take a left at the first street, then a right at the first street. Then walk till you're there. I got there and found the Labé car. There were already some people there. The guy charged me GF75000 (US$15) which was more than double the Lonely Planet estimate of GF35000. But the Guinea Franc has eroded in value since then and the cost of fuel has gone way up. Then he charged me 15000 (US$3) for my bag. Bastard!
People were coming fast. It was looking like this sept-place would get its requisite dozen people pretty quickly. There was also a lot of other baggage. A lot of it. At about 8:15, they hauled it all up on the roof, laid two tarps over it, then a net, then they securely tied the netting down. The car repositioned. They came out with a long funnel and a jerrican of gas which they poured through a handkerchief filter into the gas tank. Then we all climbed on board. I got the second seat in on the left of the main bench which held 4. Five people--3 of them kids--got into the back bench. One kid wedged into the space between the front bucket seats, and 2 people shared the bucket seat. One woman got in the hatch where the bovine was yesterday, and the conductor got on the roof. We were ready to go.
I was pretty damn uncomfortable. Lonely Planet estimates this trip at 8 hours. Eight hours of being wedged between two guys, with kids right behind me sleeping with his elbow in my back. Fun fun fun. At 8:30 we headed out. It is 265 km (160 miles) to Labé.
Boy is the road to Labé bad. We were going all over the road looking for the least bumpy path. There was no unbumpy part--just less and more bumpy. At 9am, the kid wedged between the bucket seats had enough and moved to the roof. At 9:30 it started to rain. They stopped the car, got out the pliers, latched onto the eyebolt where the window handles used to be, and rolled the windows up. At 10:30 it stopped raining and they repeated the process to roll the windows down. With the windows down, the people sitting at the window seat got whipped by wet vegetation when we got to close to the side of the road in the rain forest.
I saw what appeared to be a troupe of baboons or something. A tribe of a little over a dozen primates of some sort--the largest two about the size of a small man and most of the rest the size of children. They were beige in color, had tails, and ran on their arms and legs. We never got closer than about 50 meters because they went into the woods as we approached.
I was starting to get hungry. I didn't eat at all the previous day. I was looking forward to pizza at the Hotel Tata. I was thinking I'd be in Labé at 4 or 5pm--plenty of time for a pizza and a beer. I had the half bottle of water I bought in Koundara. I took occasional sips. I was very happy about the cloud cover--the sun is the worst when traveling like this. Cloud cover is ideal.
Guinea has fewer termite mounds. Instead it has these rocks, from the size of foot stools to the size of end tables. They are roughly cylindrical and capped with some sort of mossy thing. They sort of look like mushrooms. I'm not sure exactly what they are. This part of Africa is geologically interesting, there are cliffs, buttes, plateaus, ridges, and waterfalls. It's quite nice.
At about 11:40 we entered a small village and some of the people got some food. I stayed in the car. We were there about 15 minutes and then we headed off again. Did I mention the road was bad? The kid behind got carsick and a few times he reached to the window and puked.
We picked our way through potholes, forced herds of cattle to part, went off road a bit, forded running water, and went through just about every puddle there was. I guess they must know that puddles are smooth because the driver aimed for the puddles on the side of the road. On the side of the road, the car tilted 15° to the left or right making it even worse for us wedged passengers.
The houses in Guinea tend to be cylindrical , about 5 meters in diameter, with a door and no windows and conical thatched roofs. They are clustered in fenced or palisaded compounds. Sometimes there is one about 10 meters in diameter in the compound.
We headed on though. Our progress slow but steady. Every caution was taken to make sure we didn't get too bumpy, but it was still pretty bumpy. Then at 3:15, we arrived at the one and only ferry crossing.
The ferry was on the other side. A car got on and two children started turning a large two sided crank. A chain anchored at both ends of the 50m wide river went through a gear attached to the crank. Each rotation of the crank advanced the ferry about two inches. It took about 10 minutes to get the ferry from one side to the other. We all got on the ferry and the driver drove on. Then the same thing in reverse. About 10 minutes later we were on the other side. Some people bought some boiled roots and pre-peeled oranges. Then we headed forth. It was quarter to 4, so we must be close. The road wasn't any better on this side of the river. We spent half of our time in second gear, splitting the remaining between first and third gears.
Four o'clock rolled around. Not there yet. Well, it will be any minute now. I saw some other monkeys--the kind with the black round face in the white mane, with long tails. There were 3 or 4 of them. Five o'clock. An hour over the 8 hour estimate. Not bad. But we weren't there yet. Our exhaust pipe fell off. They put it in the back with the old woman. I noticed that nothing on the dash board worked. The odometer was stuck at 393354 km. The speedometer was broken. No gas gauge. Only the idiot lights worked, coming on every so often. Six o'clock. We entered a town. A goat in the road refused to move and the towns people wanted us to reverse rather than move the goat. We won. Two hours overdue is still OK, not that bad. We picked up a passenger--I could see our shadow in a rare sunbreak of three people on the roof. My tail bone was starting to hurt. Six forty five, we stopped. It was starting to get dark. I specifically want to avoid being on the road after dark. But what can you do. Labé can't be far. The people went to the bathroom and at 7pm, we hit the road again. In the elapsed fifteen minutes, the day had turned into night. The headlights worked at least. And picking our way through horrible road would require headlights. Actually it requires daylight, but there is no daylight.
Every settlement gave me hope that this would be Labé. Every settlement wasn't Labé. Eight o'clock. We stopped at a pile of firewood. They got out and loaded some onto the roof. That took quite a while as they had to rearrange the luggage. Nine o'clock. The guy on my left was home so he got out and was replaced by a guy from the roof. Then I saw a sign that said Commune of Labé. We're here! Or so I thought. The settlements started to have light. Labé can't be far. We were still on the horrible road.
Ten o'clock. This was getting ridiculous. We seemed close. Everyone was talking on their cell phones, I presume to arrange pick up at the station. Finally I saw the Hotel Tata, the best hotel in Labé according to Lonely Planet--now we're close. Then about a minute later, the driver stopped the car and looked underneath it. He had to make some quicky repair of something with a piece of wire. That took about ten minutes. Finally we were on the road. I recognized the name of another place. Then we pulled into the gare at about 10:20pm--14 hours after we left. I could barely walk. I knew I wanted to go to the Hotel d'Independance. But I didn't know where it was or where I was. I wasn't counting on arriving in the dark. A guy offered to lead me there for GF5000 (US$1). So I took him up on it. I wouldn't have been able to find it in the dark. Maybe in the light, but this was too out of the way even though it was only a 90 second walk. They had rooms. Whew!
There is a superette next door--not exactly well stocked--but stuff. I bought cookies, chocolate, and a 7 Up for GF13000 (US$2.60). Then I came up to my room to document the hell I went through today taking 14 hours to go 160 miles in a car crammed with up to 12 other people on the worst road I've been on so far. Assuming we were stopped for 2 hours of the 14, that's an average speed of 13.3 mph.
August 23, 2008 23:20 Guinea local time
The gare voiture was pretty easy to find: leave the Nyfala, turn right. Take a left at the first street, then a right at the first street. Then walk till you're there. I got there and found the Labé car. There were already some people there. The guy charged me GF75000 (US$15) which was more than double the Lonely Planet estimate of GF35000. But the Guinea Franc has eroded in value since then and the cost of fuel has gone way up. Then he charged me 15000 (US$3) for my bag. Bastard!
People were coming fast. It was looking like this sept-place would get its requisite dozen people pretty quickly. There was also a lot of other baggage. A lot of it. At about 8:15, they hauled it all up on the roof, laid two tarps over it, then a net, then they securely tied the netting down. The car repositioned. They came out with a long funnel and a jerrican of gas which they poured through a handkerchief filter into the gas tank. Then we all climbed on board. I got the second seat in on the left of the main bench which held 4. Five people--3 of them kids--got into the back bench. One kid wedged into the space between the front bucket seats, and 2 people shared the bucket seat. One woman got in the hatch where the bovine was yesterday, and the conductor got on the roof. We were ready to go.
I was pretty damn uncomfortable. Lonely Planet estimates this trip at 8 hours. Eight hours of being wedged between two guys, with kids right behind me sleeping with his elbow in my back. Fun fun fun. At 8:30 we headed out. It is 265 km (160 miles) to Labé.
Boy is the road to Labé bad. We were going all over the road looking for the least bumpy path. There was no unbumpy part--just less and more bumpy. At 9am, the kid wedged between the bucket seats had enough and moved to the roof. At 9:30 it started to rain. They stopped the car, got out the pliers, latched onto the eyebolt where the window handles used to be, and rolled the windows up. At 10:30 it stopped raining and they repeated the process to roll the windows down. With the windows down, the people sitting at the window seat got whipped by wet vegetation when we got to close to the side of the road in the rain forest.
I saw what appeared to be a troupe of baboons or something. A tribe of a little over a dozen primates of some sort--the largest two about the size of a small man and most of the rest the size of children. They were beige in color, had tails, and ran on their arms and legs. We never got closer than about 50 meters because they went into the woods as we approached.
I was starting to get hungry. I didn't eat at all the previous day. I was looking forward to pizza at the Hotel Tata. I was thinking I'd be in Labé at 4 or 5pm--plenty of time for a pizza and a beer. I had the half bottle of water I bought in Koundara. I took occasional sips. I was very happy about the cloud cover--the sun is the worst when traveling like this. Cloud cover is ideal.
Guinea has fewer termite mounds. Instead it has these rocks, from the size of foot stools to the size of end tables. They are roughly cylindrical and capped with some sort of mossy thing. They sort of look like mushrooms. I'm not sure exactly what they are. This part of Africa is geologically interesting, there are cliffs, buttes, plateaus, ridges, and waterfalls. It's quite nice.
At about 11:40 we entered a small village and some of the people got some food. I stayed in the car. We were there about 15 minutes and then we headed off again. Did I mention the road was bad? The kid behind got carsick and a few times he reached to the window and puked.
We picked our way through potholes, forced herds of cattle to part, went off road a bit, forded running water, and went through just about every puddle there was. I guess they must know that puddles are smooth because the driver aimed for the puddles on the side of the road. On the side of the road, the car tilted 15° to the left or right making it even worse for us wedged passengers.
The houses in Guinea tend to be cylindrical , about 5 meters in diameter, with a door and no windows and conical thatched roofs. They are clustered in fenced or palisaded compounds. Sometimes there is one about 10 meters in diameter in the compound.
We headed on though. Our progress slow but steady. Every caution was taken to make sure we didn't get too bumpy, but it was still pretty bumpy. Then at 3:15, we arrived at the one and only ferry crossing.
The ferry was on the other side. A car got on and two children started turning a large two sided crank. A chain anchored at both ends of the 50m wide river went through a gear attached to the crank. Each rotation of the crank advanced the ferry about two inches. It took about 10 minutes to get the ferry from one side to the other. We all got on the ferry and the driver drove on. Then the same thing in reverse. About 10 minutes later we were on the other side. Some people bought some boiled roots and pre-peeled oranges. Then we headed forth. It was quarter to 4, so we must be close. The road wasn't any better on this side of the river. We spent half of our time in second gear, splitting the remaining between first and third gears.
Four o'clock rolled around. Not there yet. Well, it will be any minute now. I saw some other monkeys--the kind with the black round face in the white mane, with long tails. There were 3 or 4 of them. Five o'clock. An hour over the 8 hour estimate. Not bad. But we weren't there yet. Our exhaust pipe fell off. They put it in the back with the old woman. I noticed that nothing on the dash board worked. The odometer was stuck at 393354 km. The speedometer was broken. No gas gauge. Only the idiot lights worked, coming on every so often. Six o'clock. We entered a town. A goat in the road refused to move and the towns people wanted us to reverse rather than move the goat. We won. Two hours overdue is still OK, not that bad. We picked up a passenger--I could see our shadow in a rare sunbreak of three people on the roof. My tail bone was starting to hurt. Six forty five, we stopped. It was starting to get dark. I specifically want to avoid being on the road after dark. But what can you do. Labé can't be far. The people went to the bathroom and at 7pm, we hit the road again. In the elapsed fifteen minutes, the day had turned into night. The headlights worked at least. And picking our way through horrible road would require headlights. Actually it requires daylight, but there is no daylight.
Every settlement gave me hope that this would be Labé. Every settlement wasn't Labé. Eight o'clock. We stopped at a pile of firewood. They got out and loaded some onto the roof. That took quite a while as they had to rearrange the luggage. Nine o'clock. The guy on my left was home so he got out and was replaced by a guy from the roof. Then I saw a sign that said Commune of Labé. We're here! Or so I thought. The settlements started to have light. Labé can't be far. We were still on the horrible road.
Ten o'clock. This was getting ridiculous. We seemed close. Everyone was talking on their cell phones, I presume to arrange pick up at the station. Finally I saw the Hotel Tata, the best hotel in Labé according to Lonely Planet--now we're close. Then about a minute later, the driver stopped the car and looked underneath it. He had to make some quicky repair of something with a piece of wire. That took about ten minutes. Finally we were on the road. I recognized the name of another place. Then we pulled into the gare at about 10:20pm--14 hours after we left. I could barely walk. I knew I wanted to go to the Hotel d'Independance. But I didn't know where it was or where I was. I wasn't counting on arriving in the dark. A guy offered to lead me there for GF5000 (US$1). So I took him up on it. I wouldn't have been able to find it in the dark. Maybe in the light, but this was too out of the way even though it was only a 90 second walk. They had rooms. Whew!
There is a superette next door--not exactly well stocked--but stuff. I bought cookies, chocolate, and a 7 Up for GF13000 (US$2.60). Then I came up to my room to document the hell I went through today taking 14 hours to go 160 miles in a car crammed with up to 12 other people on the worst road I've been on so far. Assuming we were stopped for 2 hours of the 14, that's an average speed of 13.3 mph.
August 23, 2008 23:20 Guinea local time
Friday, August 22, 2008
Gabú To Koundara Via Saréboïdo: A Test In Patience
I woke up at 5:40am. I hadn't packed the night before and there wasn't much electricity left, so figured I better start before it is turned off. I got done packing at 6 and listened to music till 6:40 when the lights went out (and fan stopped). Then it was off to find a bush taxi to Koundara. The hotel manager recommended 7 or 7:30 so I decided to get there at 7. They weren't quite open yet--the bush taxi crew was still eating breakfast out of a shared bowl sitting in a circle around, each with a big spoon. I was the second person for the sept-place. Just to review--sept-place is French for 7 seats. It is a Peugot 504 with 7 seats besides the driver. So I paid 3000 CFA (US$6) for the ticket and my luggage and took my seat in the sept-place to wait for 5 more people (one was already there).
And I waited. At about 9am, a guy struck up a conversation with me. He asked where I was going. I told him Kounadra, Lome, then Conakry. He told me I'd need to take a plane to go to Lome. I got out the Lonely Planet and realized my error--I meant Labé. The guy was fascinated with the Lonely Planet. He looked at the map and showed me where he was born. Since he can read French, he was sort of able to make out the English in the History of Guinea section. He disputed the results of an election as published in that section. Interesting.
I asked him how far along we were in filling up. That's when I found out that this sept-place would not take 7 people, but 9. The front bucket seat would have 2, and the bench I was on would have 4. Ugh! That's not what I needed to hear. At 10:30 (!), we were filled up and headed out by receiving a big push and a clutch pop to start the engine. But there were only 3 of us in the bench, so I was happy--though there were 3 women in the back each with an infant. The grand total, including driver, was 12 people in the car. The road sucks. We were playing slow motion pothole slalom. And there are lot of people living along the road so besides the potholes, we had to avoid bicycles, infants, goats, dogs, pedestrians, cows, and motorcycles. I kept getting my head slammed into the beam of the car when we'd go through bumps. I must have been hit a hundred times. After about 40 minutes we stopped and picked up one of the passenger's mother. That's why there were only 3 of us in the back--one space was hers. Now we didn't need the driver to complete the dozen--we had 12 passengers in our sept-place. This pothole slalom continued until about noon when we hit a patch of nice road and made as much progress in the next 20 minutes as the previous 90. The road was good and bad after about 12:00 when it switched from paved to dirt which actually works better. Rain was on and off, but never bad--at least there weren't to many sunny breaks. At about 1:00, we hit the Guinea-Bissau immigration. A rope was stretched across the road. I got my gear and headed into the immigration office. As usual, they had a hard time finding the visa. Once they found it, they studied it carefully. Then they looked for my entry stamp. I helped them since I knew it was on page 10. They asked my nationality--not many Americans come through here, I gather. The woman entered my information into her ledger and handed me my passport.
Then it was off to get another taxi. I crossed the rope and was on the Guinea-Conakry side. The license plates of the cars were now Guinea instead of Guinea-Bissau. I loaded my stuff into a car. A guy there said the car would leave at 2:20. It was about 1:20. I waited for an hour and then piled into the car. This one only costs 1000 CFA (US$2). A baby belonging to a woman in the back was crying at the top of his lungs. He was dripping with sweat. Maybe sick. I sat next a pleasantly fattish woman dressed in a pretty maroon outfit. She looked rich--much richer than anyone else I've seen since leaving Bissau. Before we left, they adjusted something under the hood. Then, instead of heading down the road, they pushed the car down a dirt road hill. The driver popped the clutch, and let it sputter, and popped the hood to make another adjustment. This happened 3 times, each time we lost some altitude on the hill. Who would push it if we reached the bottom of the hill? And we did reach the bottom of the hill. So it happened a fourth time. They had to push the car, loaded with 11 people, uphill a bit. Finally, it took, sort of. The engine was running really rough, but the driver drove up the hill, got on the road, and headed toward the Guinea border about a half kilometer away--a rope across on this side, too. Crikey--all that for a half kilometer? I could have walked it!
We piled out again and I went to Guinea customs. I sat down and the man inspected my passport. Then he filled out his ledger, asking me all the usual questions--name, nationality, occupation, where I'm coming from, where I'm going to, purpose of trip. He handed me my passport and I walked about 100 feet down to the immigration police. I went in. The officer apparently has bad vision--he inspected everything very close to his eyes. He even read the boilerplate stuff on the second page that says the Secretary of State requests that the bearer of this passport be freely granted entry blah blah, or whatever it is. Then he went into another room and came out with a ledger, though there were already 2 ledgers on his desk. He proceeded to ask me the identical questions as the customs guy. OK, I can do this twice. Then he gave me my stamp. And with that, I was in. I waited at the taxi for the others with passports. Finally, a little before 3pm, we left--the driver, 11 passengers, and the 2 pushers on the roof. The taxi went on pretty horrible roads--more washed out than potholed. The engine cut out many times but there was always just enough kinetic energy to restart the engine by popping the clutch. The baby stopped crying.
We got the top of a hill and the driver stopped. He went out, opened the hood, and made another adjustment. At the bottom of the hill, a topless woman was in a pond whipping her laundry against a rock. There were maybe half a dozen topless women in total on this trip. Only one was young with perky breasts--she was lathering up by the side of the road with a tub of soapy water. Anyway, he engaged the clutch and we started coasting. He popped the clutch and let it sputter. Then he went out and made another adjustment under the hood. The two kids on the roof pushed the car again because we were on the bottom of the hill. This was the last time he would do this.
At about 3:40 or so we arrived in Saréboïdo. There I converted a €50 note into about GF350,000. There were taxis to Koundara a bit down the road so I headed down there. I loaded up my bag (GF2000 but I never got change for my GF5000) and after a few minutes got in the back seat right next to the rich looking woman again. She was eating peanuts and offered me some but I wasn't hungry. This time there were 2 in the bucket seat, 4 in the middle bench, and 5 in the back including 2 babies. The taxi got a push and a popping of the clutch started the engine (seems to be a theme on this trip). Then we went in reverse and backed up a bit into a crowd. The back hatch, which was black where the window should be, opened. A handful of men pushed a small bovine with horns into the back and hogtied it. He looked pretty uncomfortable back there--probably the last ride of his life since he'll probably be eaten in Koundara. The woman eating the peanuts wasn't terribly pleased that this bovine was right behind her. Finally, the taxi took off. A kid tumbled off the back (answering my question of "do they ever fall off the roof?"). The taxi slowed down and the kid ran up and clambered back on. Then it off on another hour ride to Koundara. Every so often the cow would kick the hatch, but it was, and always is, a losing battle for the bovine.
Finally, we arrived in Koundara. I paid GF7500. A woman pointed me off in some direction. I asked if it was the direction of the Hotel Nyfala. She said yes. Turns out she lied. But I asked some people and they flagged down a moto-taxi. So I rode the back of a motorcycle, with my laptop in one hand, one hand on the taxi, and my backpack strapped on good and tight. What a sight I must have been. He took me to the hotel for GF2000--about 40 cents. When we arrived, I tried to get off, but my pants got caught on the blinker during my dismount. I was on the ground. I unclicked my backpack, stood up, and brushed myself off.
The hotel is not that great, but there are only 2 in town and this is the only one with "guaranteed" electricity. It should come on in an hour or so and stay on till midnight.
I went out to get something to drink. I bought a bottle of water for GF5000 and a coolish Orange Fanta for CF5500. Then because I needed it, I used a cup and a jerrycan of water to take a "shower".
August 22, 2008 20:16 Guinea local time
And I waited. At about 9am, a guy struck up a conversation with me. He asked where I was going. I told him Kounadra, Lome, then Conakry. He told me I'd need to take a plane to go to Lome. I got out the Lonely Planet and realized my error--I meant Labé. The guy was fascinated with the Lonely Planet. He looked at the map and showed me where he was born. Since he can read French, he was sort of able to make out the English in the History of Guinea section. He disputed the results of an election as published in that section. Interesting.
I asked him how far along we were in filling up. That's when I found out that this sept-place would not take 7 people, but 9. The front bucket seat would have 2, and the bench I was on would have 4. Ugh! That's not what I needed to hear. At 10:30 (!), we were filled up and headed out by receiving a big push and a clutch pop to start the engine. But there were only 3 of us in the bench, so I was happy--though there were 3 women in the back each with an infant. The grand total, including driver, was 12 people in the car. The road sucks. We were playing slow motion pothole slalom. And there are lot of people living along the road so besides the potholes, we had to avoid bicycles, infants, goats, dogs, pedestrians, cows, and motorcycles. I kept getting my head slammed into the beam of the car when we'd go through bumps. I must have been hit a hundred times. After about 40 minutes we stopped and picked up one of the passenger's mother. That's why there were only 3 of us in the back--one space was hers. Now we didn't need the driver to complete the dozen--we had 12 passengers in our sept-place. This pothole slalom continued until about noon when we hit a patch of nice road and made as much progress in the next 20 minutes as the previous 90. The road was good and bad after about 12:00 when it switched from paved to dirt which actually works better. Rain was on and off, but never bad--at least there weren't to many sunny breaks. At about 1:00, we hit the Guinea-Bissau immigration. A rope was stretched across the road. I got my gear and headed into the immigration office. As usual, they had a hard time finding the visa. Once they found it, they studied it carefully. Then they looked for my entry stamp. I helped them since I knew it was on page 10. They asked my nationality--not many Americans come through here, I gather. The woman entered my information into her ledger and handed me my passport.
Then it was off to get another taxi. I crossed the rope and was on the Guinea-Conakry side. The license plates of the cars were now Guinea instead of Guinea-Bissau. I loaded my stuff into a car. A guy there said the car would leave at 2:20. It was about 1:20. I waited for an hour and then piled into the car. This one only costs 1000 CFA (US$2). A baby belonging to a woman in the back was crying at the top of his lungs. He was dripping with sweat. Maybe sick. I sat next a pleasantly fattish woman dressed in a pretty maroon outfit. She looked rich--much richer than anyone else I've seen since leaving Bissau. Before we left, they adjusted something under the hood. Then, instead of heading down the road, they pushed the car down a dirt road hill. The driver popped the clutch, and let it sputter, and popped the hood to make another adjustment. This happened 3 times, each time we lost some altitude on the hill. Who would push it if we reached the bottom of the hill? And we did reach the bottom of the hill. So it happened a fourth time. They had to push the car, loaded with 11 people, uphill a bit. Finally, it took, sort of. The engine was running really rough, but the driver drove up the hill, got on the road, and headed toward the Guinea border about a half kilometer away--a rope across on this side, too. Crikey--all that for a half kilometer? I could have walked it!
We piled out again and I went to Guinea customs. I sat down and the man inspected my passport. Then he filled out his ledger, asking me all the usual questions--name, nationality, occupation, where I'm coming from, where I'm going to, purpose of trip. He handed me my passport and I walked about 100 feet down to the immigration police. I went in. The officer apparently has bad vision--he inspected everything very close to his eyes. He even read the boilerplate stuff on the second page that says the Secretary of State requests that the bearer of this passport be freely granted entry blah blah, or whatever it is. Then he went into another room and came out with a ledger, though there were already 2 ledgers on his desk. He proceeded to ask me the identical questions as the customs guy. OK, I can do this twice. Then he gave me my stamp. And with that, I was in. I waited at the taxi for the others with passports. Finally, a little before 3pm, we left--the driver, 11 passengers, and the 2 pushers on the roof. The taxi went on pretty horrible roads--more washed out than potholed. The engine cut out many times but there was always just enough kinetic energy to restart the engine by popping the clutch. The baby stopped crying.
We got the top of a hill and the driver stopped. He went out, opened the hood, and made another adjustment. At the bottom of the hill, a topless woman was in a pond whipping her laundry against a rock. There were maybe half a dozen topless women in total on this trip. Only one was young with perky breasts--she was lathering up by the side of the road with a tub of soapy water. Anyway, he engaged the clutch and we started coasting. He popped the clutch and let it sputter. Then he went out and made another adjustment under the hood. The two kids on the roof pushed the car again because we were on the bottom of the hill. This was the last time he would do this.
At about 3:40 or so we arrived in Saréboïdo. There I converted a €50 note into about GF350,000. There were taxis to Koundara a bit down the road so I headed down there. I loaded up my bag (GF2000 but I never got change for my GF5000) and after a few minutes got in the back seat right next to the rich looking woman again. She was eating peanuts and offered me some but I wasn't hungry. This time there were 2 in the bucket seat, 4 in the middle bench, and 5 in the back including 2 babies. The taxi got a push and a popping of the clutch started the engine (seems to be a theme on this trip). Then we went in reverse and backed up a bit into a crowd. The back hatch, which was black where the window should be, opened. A handful of men pushed a small bovine with horns into the back and hogtied it. He looked pretty uncomfortable back there--probably the last ride of his life since he'll probably be eaten in Koundara. The woman eating the peanuts wasn't terribly pleased that this bovine was right behind her. Finally, the taxi took off. A kid tumbled off the back (answering my question of "do they ever fall off the roof?"). The taxi slowed down and the kid ran up and clambered back on. Then it off on another hour ride to Koundara. Every so often the cow would kick the hatch, but it was, and always is, a losing battle for the bovine.
Finally, we arrived in Koundara. I paid GF7500. A woman pointed me off in some direction. I asked if it was the direction of the Hotel Nyfala. She said yes. Turns out she lied. But I asked some people and they flagged down a moto-taxi. So I rode the back of a motorcycle, with my laptop in one hand, one hand on the taxi, and my backpack strapped on good and tight. What a sight I must have been. He took me to the hotel for GF2000--about 40 cents. When we arrived, I tried to get off, but my pants got caught on the blinker during my dismount. I was on the ground. I unclicked my backpack, stood up, and brushed myself off.
The hotel is not that great, but there are only 2 in town and this is the only one with "guaranteed" electricity. It should come on in an hour or so and stay on till midnight.
I went out to get something to drink. I bought a bottle of water for GF5000 and a coolish Orange Fanta for CF5500. Then because I needed it, I used a cup and a jerrycan of water to take a "shower".
August 22, 2008 20:16 Guinea local time
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Emerging From The Other Side Of Culture Shock
I woke up this morning when the fan was still on. I had to turn it down during the night since it was actually a bit too cool. It went off at 6:20. I slept in. Nice. I didn't even get up until noon. It was nice to just lie there and rest.
I pulled out a €50 note and put it in my pocket. Today, I would try to find the minibus station where the money changers hang out. If they were there, I'd see if I could change the €50 into about GF250,000. Then I'd find the last restaurant in Gabú. I found the area where the minibuses take off from, but no money changers seemed to be there. I headed to the restaurant/bar/disco, but it was closed. About a block away I found another bar that looked sort of inviting, so I went in.
It was an interesting place. I sat down at one of about 6 tables. Two men were at one table, a woman talking to herself (I later saw was pregnant) was at another. A waiter guy was at the bar and there was a guy behind the bar. The waiter came over. He had a red shirt with the Dairy Queen DQ logo. It made me want a Peanut Buster Parfait. But I had to settle for a Cristal. I read La Route and pondered Africa.
After I returned from Japan for the first time, I was talking with Barbara Ito, a professor of Japanese cultural anthropology. She told me that studies have shown that culture shock sort of bottoms out at 6 weeks. I thought back and the 6 week mark in Japan is about where I was reduced to tears over what was happening to me. After that, it got better. I suppose you are broken, to put a negative spin on it, or break through, to put a positive spin on it. Anyway, something happens with culture shock. You go from a horrible feeling of uncertainty, to an acceptance. I never really had a breakdown in Africa. I certainly didn't have any tears generated by anything not related to the ending of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. But I felt that I have gone through that barrier. I no longer calculate the value of the humiliation of personal failure I would feel if I were to just go to the airport and hop on the next plane to O'Hare. I no longer feel any sort of need or desire to do that. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that my most frustrating experience lately was loading 22 episodes of This American Life onto my state of the Western art iPod Touch. Or maybe the fact that the meat I ate at the German restaurant got puked up while Binta's goat chiep stayed down. Maybe it was the realization that Guinea-Bissau, the only non-Francophone non-Anglophone country is about as bad as it's going to get and it's not even that bad.
Whatever it was, I'm through. I no longer have any doubts about my ability to complete this quest. I can do it. I will do it.
Anyway, that's what I was pondering while at this place and observing the goings on. A girl in a very short denim skirt came. She had blonde braids. Another girl in a short skirt came. This seemed to be a happening place. The blonde braid girl played dice with one of the guys there while she drank beer and he had Coca-Cola. The pregnant woman talking to herself got up and took frequent short walks. A man on a motorcycle came--I think he must be Brazilian. A woman on the street chatted with him giddily like she was totally in love with him. The DQ shirt guy mounted the Brazilian's motorcycle and rode back and forth on the street. A kid with a blindfold was running around and falling down in some sort of game. A little girl came over once and bit him on the back. I ordered 3 more beers.
This place reminded my of the Lego-Lego in Bluefields, Nicaragua. In fact, Gabú could almost be a sister city of Bluefields. It has about the same level of activity, the same number of places to eat, the same size market.
Finally it was time to leave. I went up to settle my tab. Each beer was only 500 CFA (US$1). Wow. They could have ripped me off, but they didn't. Guinea-Bissau is nice like that. Without enough tourists to know how easy to rip us off, they just treat us like normal citizens and give us honest transactions.
I came home and ate my can of ravioli. Then I waited for the power to return so I could type this up.
August 21, 2008 20:36 Guinea-Bissau local time
I pulled out a €50 note and put it in my pocket. Today, I would try to find the minibus station where the money changers hang out. If they were there, I'd see if I could change the €50 into about GF250,000. Then I'd find the last restaurant in Gabú. I found the area where the minibuses take off from, but no money changers seemed to be there. I headed to the restaurant/bar/disco, but it was closed. About a block away I found another bar that looked sort of inviting, so I went in.
It was an interesting place. I sat down at one of about 6 tables. Two men were at one table, a woman talking to herself (I later saw was pregnant) was at another. A waiter guy was at the bar and there was a guy behind the bar. The waiter came over. He had a red shirt with the Dairy Queen DQ logo. It made me want a Peanut Buster Parfait. But I had to settle for a Cristal. I read La Route and pondered Africa.
After I returned from Japan for the first time, I was talking with Barbara Ito, a professor of Japanese cultural anthropology. She told me that studies have shown that culture shock sort of bottoms out at 6 weeks. I thought back and the 6 week mark in Japan is about where I was reduced to tears over what was happening to me. After that, it got better. I suppose you are broken, to put a negative spin on it, or break through, to put a positive spin on it. Anyway, something happens with culture shock. You go from a horrible feeling of uncertainty, to an acceptance. I never really had a breakdown in Africa. I certainly didn't have any tears generated by anything not related to the ending of Cormac McCarthy's The Road. But I felt that I have gone through that barrier. I no longer calculate the value of the humiliation of personal failure I would feel if I were to just go to the airport and hop on the next plane to O'Hare. I no longer feel any sort of need or desire to do that. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that my most frustrating experience lately was loading 22 episodes of This American Life onto my state of the Western art iPod Touch. Or maybe the fact that the meat I ate at the German restaurant got puked up while Binta's goat chiep stayed down. Maybe it was the realization that Guinea-Bissau, the only non-Francophone non-Anglophone country is about as bad as it's going to get and it's not even that bad.
Whatever it was, I'm through. I no longer have any doubts about my ability to complete this quest. I can do it. I will do it.
Anyway, that's what I was pondering while at this place and observing the goings on. A girl in a very short denim skirt came. She had blonde braids. Another girl in a short skirt came. This seemed to be a happening place. The blonde braid girl played dice with one of the guys there while she drank beer and he had Coca-Cola. The pregnant woman talking to herself got up and took frequent short walks. A man on a motorcycle came--I think he must be Brazilian. A woman on the street chatted with him giddily like she was totally in love with him. The DQ shirt guy mounted the Brazilian's motorcycle and rode back and forth on the street. A kid with a blindfold was running around and falling down in some sort of game. A little girl came over once and bit him on the back. I ordered 3 more beers.
This place reminded my of the Lego-Lego in Bluefields, Nicaragua. In fact, Gabú could almost be a sister city of Bluefields. It has about the same level of activity, the same number of places to eat, the same size market.
Finally it was time to leave. I went up to settle my tab. Each beer was only 500 CFA (US$1). Wow. They could have ripped me off, but they didn't. Guinea-Bissau is nice like that. Without enough tourists to know how easy to rip us off, they just treat us like normal citizens and give us honest transactions.
I came home and ate my can of ravioli. Then I waited for the power to return so I could type this up.
August 21, 2008 20:36 Guinea-Bissau local time
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Dinner In Gabú
Five o'clock came and I woke up after an afternoon nap. I decided to try the second of 2 restaurants in the Lonely Planet, more out of boredom than hunger. Restaurant Binta, named after Binta described as a feisty Senegalese lady who makes good peanut sauce. Well, if she's Senegalese, I can at least order in French. So I headed down the street toward the highway. When I got to the highway, there was indeed a catholic church at the corner of the street I'm near and the highway. I crossed and went about a block and voila. There was the handpainted sign for Binta Senegalese Restaurant. There was a woman out in front and about 3 huge pots sitting there on her porch. She did speak French and invited me in. The inside of the "restaurant" consists of a bed and a long table with benches on either side with a stack of more huge empty pots.
She asked me what I wanted. She had something called chiep (sp?). I didn't know what it was. She showed me--a red spicy rice. OK, I'll take that. With meat or fish? I'll take meat. I sat down and asked if there was anything to drink. I gathered they buy from a local store so I ordered an Orange Fanta. She went into a room and came out with a small lace tablecloth.
The food came--a full plate of the rice with about ten bits of goat meat on top. No sauce really, though the marinade was still out on the table. It wasn't hot--room temperature. I tried some of the rice. It was a bit too salty for me. Oh boy. What have I done?
The Orange Fanta arrived. It was cold. The Fanta would save me, but I'd need to ration it. I ate spoons of the rice with bits of goat. I had to chew extra long due to the unfamiliarity of the food. In the time I was there, another guy came in, ate, and left. He didn't get a tablecloth like I did. I guess I'm special. ;-) I worked my way through the rice and meat. One bit of meat didn't taste like meat--I spit out. Liver I think. I'm not ready to eat goat liver.
I got to the three quarter mark. OK, I gave it a good try. My spirit level was measured by the Fanta level--dangerously low. I finished the Fanta and headed out. I asked how much. 1500 CFA (US$3). I paid, thanked Binta, and left. On the way back I bought a Coca-Cola. It had a pull-tab. I haven't seen those since not long after the episode of Emergency where Johnny and Roy had to fish a pull-tab out of a guy's throat because he was one of those people who would put the tab into the can and then drink it.
Having made it home, I decided to type this up now. Hopefully the electricity will come on in about a half hour so I can recharge my computer batteries.
August 20, 2008 18:25 Guinea-Bissau local time
She asked me what I wanted. She had something called chiep (sp?). I didn't know what it was. She showed me--a red spicy rice. OK, I'll take that. With meat or fish? I'll take meat. I sat down and asked if there was anything to drink. I gathered they buy from a local store so I ordered an Orange Fanta. She went into a room and came out with a small lace tablecloth.
The food came--a full plate of the rice with about ten bits of goat meat on top. No sauce really, though the marinade was still out on the table. It wasn't hot--room temperature. I tried some of the rice. It was a bit too salty for me. Oh boy. What have I done?
The Orange Fanta arrived. It was cold. The Fanta would save me, but I'd need to ration it. I ate spoons of the rice with bits of goat. I had to chew extra long due to the unfamiliarity of the food. In the time I was there, another guy came in, ate, and left. He didn't get a tablecloth like I did. I guess I'm special. ;-) I worked my way through the rice and meat. One bit of meat didn't taste like meat--I spit out. Liver I think. I'm not ready to eat goat liver.
I got to the three quarter mark. OK, I gave it a good try. My spirit level was measured by the Fanta level--dangerously low. I finished the Fanta and headed out. I asked how much. 1500 CFA (US$3). I paid, thanked Binta, and left. On the way back I bought a Coca-Cola. It had a pull-tab. I haven't seen those since not long after the episode of Emergency where Johnny and Roy had to fish a pull-tab out of a guy's throat because he was one of those people who would put the tab into the can and then drink it.
Having made it home, I decided to type this up now. Hopefully the electricity will come on in about a half hour so I can recharge my computer batteries.
August 20, 2008 18:25 Guinea-Bissau local time
Bissau To Gabú (Where I'm Followed Into My Hotel)
I woke up. It was dark. Still 5am. And the fan was blowing. I had turned of the AC because it was loud as hell and the room was OK with just the fan. The man at the desk said the electricity would be on from 7pm to 6am--better than the 7:30pm to 10pm I got at the Pensão Centrale. I went back to sleep.
I thought I heard a beep. I checked my iPod--6am on the dot--the time I wanted to get up. It was pitch black and the fan was off. The air was still. I fumbled for my rechargeable lantern which has come in very very handy in Guinea-Bissau and turned it on. I cursed myself for not having packed last night when I had power. I packed. My laundry was half done--the two shirts dry, the two pair of underwear still damp--even under the fan all night. I rolled them up and hoped I could unpack them before the mildew started.
I headed out. It was dark and I carried the lantern in one hand and the laptop in the other. I headed up toward the destroyed Presidential Palace since it's on a bit roundabout. I flagged down a taxi and said "paragem?" The driver repeated it, I repeated it, he repeated it. I hate not being in Francophone or Anglophone Africa! I got in. I didn't negotiate a price--usually an invitation for an overcharge. The Lonely Planet says to expect to pay 1000 CFA to the paragem. The taxi from the paragem to the hotel when I arrived was 1500 CFA. I was prepared to go as high as 2000 CFA after which I would argue.
He had 2 other customers and he dropped them off first. Then we headed 5 km out of town to the paragem which is Portuguese for gare routier which is French for the ground transportation hub. He picked up 2 others also headed to the paragem. When we got there, he asked for only 1000 CFA. Nice. They are less anxious to rip off tourists in Guinea-Bissau, I guess. Probably the product of having few tourists.
I got the Bissau-Gabú sept-place area and saw a sept-place filled up. Yay!!! Maybe I'll be the last one! But no, it was just departing. I paid 3800 CFA (US$7) for the second ticket on the next sept-place. I wasn't happy that they wouldn't take my 5000 CFA bill. They cleaned my out of 1000 CFA bills and 800 CFA in coins. I hate not being liquid--all I had now was some coins and a 2000 CFA note--the rest was 5000 and 10000 CFA notes.
It was 7am. I sat in the car and waited. It was now light. Ambulant salesmen were walking around selling stuff. A guy came over to where a couple was standing and got the girl's interest with a clothes-hanger full of colorful women's underwear. Nobody was selling water. Then at 7:20, the car filled. The guides recommend you get to the stations early in the morning--before 8 and if possible, maybe even before 6. It's nice to not have to wait long.
We were soon on the road. After a few minutes, we passed another immigration check-point. They were interested in the papers of the guy next to me so I had to get out of the car to let him out. While I was out, they asked me what country I was from (I handed my passport to them open to the visa page and they hadn't looked at the passport). I told them America. They asked "missionaire?" I said, "no, je suis touriste." They were intrigued. I don't think they see too many American tourists heading to Gabú.
The road was good the whole way. We went through higher lands, gradually going uphill. It stayed green and still swampy in parts. There was forest and meadow. We went through Bafata. I had thought it was a 6 hour trip and it seemed we were half way there at 9am. Then at about 10:15, we passed a market and were in Gabú. Wow, that was fast. I got out and opened to the map. I was after the Hotel Visiom. I figured we were where the transport hub was which is beyond the hotel Visiom, so I started to go backwards to where a church was--that's where you turn north to get to the hotel. I saw what looked like it could be an abandoned church or mosque and turned north. It didn't look right. A guy asked me what I was looking for. Then a guy on bicycle came. The guy on the bike, with very limited English, told me to follow him. OK, I might as well.
We got the road I was just on and walked back the other way. A long way. He eventually dropped off his bike somewhere. Then we turned north somewhere, but the building where the church is supposed to be said "Comite de Guiné-Bissau" or something--it didn't look like a church. He asked some people. About now, I'm thinking, I'm pretty much going to have to give this guy the 2000 CFA note. We make progress. I see the Guinea Telecom--then the Pò di Terra restaurant. We are close. We head toward some UN compound and another guy takes us the final bit.
I shook the hand of the guy who lead me the whole way with the 2000 CFA bill. There was a room available. Of course. It's the low season, after all. My options were for a 8000 CFA (US$16) fan room or a 15000 CFA (US$30) AC room. I decided to try the fan room. I looked at 2 rooms and chose the less smelly one. Electricity is on from 7pm to 6am, but not now. There is running water in the bathrooms which are in-room. They desk guy is learning English--his textbook was sitting on the desk.
Having checked in, I headed to the Pò di Terra. It looked closed, but it was open. I asked for a beer, cerveza, or whatever. I asked it is was frio? Frigo? He said it was. I asked also for a 1.5l water. A few minutes later I had a nice cool/coldish beer and a few minutes after that, a guy came from the store with the cold water bottle. They were all very intrigued by me. I probably confused them by swapping back and forth between languages. And I get the feeling that there aren't so many tourists from American around here that often.
I drank and recovered from my early morning journey. I was reading La Route. At about 1pm, I asked if they had anything to eat. I got chicken and rice with fries. One of the guys brought a bucket of water and had me wash my hands before I started eating. That was odd. At 2pm, I settled the bill--2500 CFA for the chicken and rice, 500 CFA for the beer, 600 CFA for the water, and I gave them 400 CFA as a tip. Now I have a 1000 CFA note again. I have to rebuild my supply.
I headed home. When I was almost to the hotel, I saw a group of about 6 people standing roughly in a circle. I saw something small and dark just outside their circle. It was a little chimp. Just sitting there socializing with these 6 or so people. He got up and started walking toward me. He was a little guy--maybe a little under 2 feet tall when sitting. I headed to the hotel door where I had exited. Locked. I looked for my key. The chimp was behind me watching me. My key didn't open this door, so I went further down to see if there was another door. He was still following me. There was and it was open to the air. I went in. The chimp was behind me. I closed the door a bit to make it harder for him to follow. But he opened the door wide enough to get in and entered the hotel corridor. I went to my room and unlocked it. He wanted to come in, but I quickly entered and closed the door behind me.
Then I laughed. I'm in Africa now.
August 20, 2008 14:46 Guinea-Bissau local time
I thought I heard a beep. I checked my iPod--6am on the dot--the time I wanted to get up. It was pitch black and the fan was off. The air was still. I fumbled for my rechargeable lantern which has come in very very handy in Guinea-Bissau and turned it on. I cursed myself for not having packed last night when I had power. I packed. My laundry was half done--the two shirts dry, the two pair of underwear still damp--even under the fan all night. I rolled them up and hoped I could unpack them before the mildew started.
I headed out. It was dark and I carried the lantern in one hand and the laptop in the other. I headed up toward the destroyed Presidential Palace since it's on a bit roundabout. I flagged down a taxi and said "paragem?" The driver repeated it, I repeated it, he repeated it. I hate not being in Francophone or Anglophone Africa! I got in. I didn't negotiate a price--usually an invitation for an overcharge. The Lonely Planet says to expect to pay 1000 CFA to the paragem. The taxi from the paragem to the hotel when I arrived was 1500 CFA. I was prepared to go as high as 2000 CFA after which I would argue.
He had 2 other customers and he dropped them off first. Then we headed 5 km out of town to the paragem which is Portuguese for gare routier which is French for the ground transportation hub. He picked up 2 others also headed to the paragem. When we got there, he asked for only 1000 CFA. Nice. They are less anxious to rip off tourists in Guinea-Bissau, I guess. Probably the product of having few tourists.
I got the Bissau-Gabú sept-place area and saw a sept-place filled up. Yay!!! Maybe I'll be the last one! But no, it was just departing. I paid 3800 CFA (US$7) for the second ticket on the next sept-place. I wasn't happy that they wouldn't take my 5000 CFA bill. They cleaned my out of 1000 CFA bills and 800 CFA in coins. I hate not being liquid--all I had now was some coins and a 2000 CFA note--the rest was 5000 and 10000 CFA notes.
It was 7am. I sat in the car and waited. It was now light. Ambulant salesmen were walking around selling stuff. A guy came over to where a couple was standing and got the girl's interest with a clothes-hanger full of colorful women's underwear. Nobody was selling water. Then at 7:20, the car filled. The guides recommend you get to the stations early in the morning--before 8 and if possible, maybe even before 6. It's nice to not have to wait long.
We were soon on the road. After a few minutes, we passed another immigration check-point. They were interested in the papers of the guy next to me so I had to get out of the car to let him out. While I was out, they asked me what country I was from (I handed my passport to them open to the visa page and they hadn't looked at the passport). I told them America. They asked "missionaire?" I said, "no, je suis touriste." They were intrigued. I don't think they see too many American tourists heading to Gabú.
The road was good the whole way. We went through higher lands, gradually going uphill. It stayed green and still swampy in parts. There was forest and meadow. We went through Bafata. I had thought it was a 6 hour trip and it seemed we were half way there at 9am. Then at about 10:15, we passed a market and were in Gabú. Wow, that was fast. I got out and opened to the map. I was after the Hotel Visiom. I figured we were where the transport hub was which is beyond the hotel Visiom, so I started to go backwards to where a church was--that's where you turn north to get to the hotel. I saw what looked like it could be an abandoned church or mosque and turned north. It didn't look right. A guy asked me what I was looking for. Then a guy on bicycle came. The guy on the bike, with very limited English, told me to follow him. OK, I might as well.
We got the road I was just on and walked back the other way. A long way. He eventually dropped off his bike somewhere. Then we turned north somewhere, but the building where the church is supposed to be said "Comite de Guiné-Bissau" or something--it didn't look like a church. He asked some people. About now, I'm thinking, I'm pretty much going to have to give this guy the 2000 CFA note. We make progress. I see the Guinea Telecom--then the Pò di Terra restaurant. We are close. We head toward some UN compound and another guy takes us the final bit.
I shook the hand of the guy who lead me the whole way with the 2000 CFA bill. There was a room available. Of course. It's the low season, after all. My options were for a 8000 CFA (US$16) fan room or a 15000 CFA (US$30) AC room. I decided to try the fan room. I looked at 2 rooms and chose the less smelly one. Electricity is on from 7pm to 6am, but not now. There is running water in the bathrooms which are in-room. They desk guy is learning English--his textbook was sitting on the desk.
Having checked in, I headed to the Pò di Terra. It looked closed, but it was open. I asked for a beer, cerveza, or whatever. I asked it is was frio? Frigo? He said it was. I asked also for a 1.5l water. A few minutes later I had a nice cool/coldish beer and a few minutes after that, a guy came from the store with the cold water bottle. They were all very intrigued by me. I probably confused them by swapping back and forth between languages. And I get the feeling that there aren't so many tourists from American around here that often.
I drank and recovered from my early morning journey. I was reading La Route. At about 1pm, I asked if they had anything to eat. I got chicken and rice with fries. One of the guys brought a bucket of water and had me wash my hands before I started eating. That was odd. At 2pm, I settled the bill--2500 CFA for the chicken and rice, 500 CFA for the beer, 600 CFA for the water, and I gave them 400 CFA as a tip. Now I have a 1000 CFA note again. I have to rebuild my supply.
I headed home. When I was almost to the hotel, I saw a group of about 6 people standing roughly in a circle. I saw something small and dark just outside their circle. It was a little chimp. Just sitting there socializing with these 6 or so people. He got up and started walking toward me. He was a little guy--maybe a little under 2 feet tall when sitting. I headed to the hotel door where I had exited. Locked. I looked for my key. The chimp was behind me watching me. My key didn't open this door, so I went further down to see if there was another door. He was still following me. There was and it was open to the air. I went in. The chimp was behind me. I closed the door a bit to make it harder for him to follow. But he opened the door wide enough to get in and entered the hotel corridor. I went to my room and unlocked it. He wanted to come in, but I quickly entered and closed the door behind me.
Then I laughed. I'm in Africa now.
August 20, 2008 14:46 Guinea-Bissau local time
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Impressions Of Guinea-Bissau
I got my first impression of Guinea-Bissau riding in. Guinea-Bissau is green. Green and lush. It is mangrove swamp and rain forest. But there are building along the way. Many large square buildings--perhaps 20m by 20m with either a grass roof supported by a pole in the middle or the same shape but in corrugated tin.
The first thing I noticed about the people is that they don't wear as many clothes as in the other parts I went through. In fact, on the way in, I saw three topless women working in their yards or on their porches. And I saw one girl with a long shirt (though not long enough) but no underwear stretching up to reach the clothpins on the clothesline. All this right outside in the open. With traffic going by. Even one guy was on his front porch taking his pants off with some sort of tighty whities underneath.
Another notable thing about the dress here is that there are more women in jeans. After Lululemon or green or gray thin-fabric hiking pants with lots of pockets and snaps and zippers and hooks and loops, jeans are the sexiest thing a woman can put on her legs. So there are a lot more seemingly sexy women here in Guinea-Bissau because there are a lot more jeans.
Islam seems to have less of a hold here. I saw a few Catholic missionaries. I guess the Iberian countries really spent more effort Catholicizing their colonies. I saw a couple people with Jesus shirts. And the buses don't seem to have the connections to Islam. The Red Cross (Cruz Vermilon or something like that) doesn't have the Red Crescent analogue with it.
It is interesting that all the signs and placards turn from French to Portuguese. They actually use it here. If in Brazil, why not here too? It's just funny to me that there would be a Portuguese speaking African nation.
The capital is Bissau. Apparently, Guinea-Bissau was the site of a civil war in the late 90's. And things have never been that great. And it shows. The buildings are old, about half of them boarded up and empty of anything in the way of useful enterprise. The streets are the pothole fixer's nightmare. And there isn't that much stuff. On top of that, tonight at least, parts of the city stank. I eventually saw smoke from my balcony so I realized that somewhere to the west, they were burning something--maybe garbage. The power is extremely unreliable. I don't understand how this city runs.
Morning In The Pensão Centrale, Afternoon In The Aparthotel Jordani
If my experience in Guinea-Bissau and Bissau can be described as hell on earth, my choice of where to spend the night can be described as the 9th circle. OK, that's exaggerating a bit. But I realized concretely what I have been reading in the Lonely Planet when they say "bucket water". That means there is no running water. There is a big rubber garbage container like an American has in his garage. And it's in the bathroom. And it's filled with water and has a cup floating in it. I had a nice pizza last night which meant I needed to get rid of the remains of pizza this morning. That means flushing the toilet. Not by pushing a button or pulling a lever. But by scooping water and pouring it in the toilet.
I tried the shower. Nothing. If you would want to take a shower, it would have to be from the same bucket. Want to wash your hands? Same bucket. And to top it off, the bathroom is between the hallway and the veranda (like every room here). You can close both doors but then it's dark. Or you can open one door and do your bathroom business and hope nobody pops their head in. I kept the one to the veranda slightly ajar.
I headed out about 8:30. I wanted to scope out more of the city and find the best pizzeria because it supposedly has good pastries and coffee in the morning. This time I found it. It was shackled. But I found another place at the southwest corner of the soccer stadium. On the inside it appears to be called the Continental Cafe. I don't remember what it's called on the outside, but it doesn't seem to be that. I saw pastries from the window. I went in and got a seat. I ordered a pastry and a coffee. The pastry turned out to be coconut flavored and it was yummy. I sat there reading The Road/La route.
Now I was finding that I was in a bit of jam. When I first read The Road--started on release day and finished within 48 hours--I cried at the end. When I first read it in French, I cried again. Now I was going to finish it. Would I cry here in the Continental Cafe? I read slowly. When I felt myself welling up, I slowed down. I teared up, but the tears never escaped the confines of my eyes. I sniffled a bit. If the waiter had come at the wrong time I would have lost it, though.
I finished my coffee and pastry, but now I was sort of thirsty. I noticed 4 different fruit juices. One looked like it might be orange juice and one looked like apple juice. I tried to order the orange juice, but he told me it wasn't orange--it was mango. I don't want mango juice, so asked if the apple juice looking one was apple juice. I was asking in French. I don't what he was telling me in Portuguese. So I ordered it and went back to reading. A couple of minutes later, he brought a maroon colored juice that I hadn't seen. I looked over at the 4 juices and the one that looked like apple juice was now maroon. It is papaya? I don't know. The maroon part is a powdery pulp that sinks to the bottom leaving an apple juice colored liquid on top. I just hadn't seen the bottom part where the maroon part was. It was a bit tart and a bit sweet. Not bad, but not what I wanted. I drank it though. Then I tried to pay which was a bit tricky since I thought I had asked for the bill but it didn't come so I just took my 5000 CFA bill up to the register.
After that, I went to another hotel that costs 5000 CFA more (US$10) but sounded much better. They had a room and it looked good. And the desk guy spoke French. So I took it and moved from the Pensão Centrale to the Aparthotel Jordani. Wow! What a difference. The first thing I did was take a much needed shower. Boy did that feel good. There isn't hot and cold running water, but there is running water. Whew! Having gotten myself nice and clean and fresh, I headed out to see if I could find post cards. It seemed like a problem. No place seemed to sell them but I had passed a tourist shop that looked like the best bet. I went in and just as I was about to leave dejected, viola, a basket of postcards. I took 2 and went up to pay. I handed them to the guy and he studied them carefully. Then he wouldn't take my money. He said some things in Portuguese then finally in English "give you". OK, so I got them for free. I bought 2 stamps for 350 CFA. Then headed back to the room.
I got a pen and headed out the local "fast food" place. I found it just to the north of the soccer stadium and went in. There was a Portuguese guy and no other customers. I sat down and ordered a beer--by now I'm reading the French version of Le route only--no The Road to check my comprehension. But then the guy turned on the Olympics. I started watching that. We watched the French women handball team play the Russian team, he switched around a bit to other channels with other events. Then he asked me in English, "English? French?" I told him I could watch either in English giving away my language preference for English. I asked him if the kitchen was open. He said it was until midnight.
So we watched the Olympics for a while. Some customers came and went. Then the guy's family came. He has a toddler and an infant. And this guy turned in crazy doting father. He made baby noises and faces for the next hour. It was funny and goofy. They turned it from the Olympics to Bob, l'Éponge for the kids. That's Spongebob Squarepants for those of you who didn't figure that out.
I decided to order a hamburger with fries. But when I tried to order, I couldn't understand the waitress, so I had the guy help me. I said I wanted a hamburger with "fries", but he heard "rice". Finally, when he said they could do chips, I realized I needed to use the British version of the term for fries and got the order switched chips with no rice. The hamburger came with no bun, but a fried egg on top and sprinkled but not melted cheese. That and 2 beers cost 3000 CFA (US$6).
One of the nice things about this leg in Guinea-Bissau, is that I'm learning what traveling in Africa would have been like if I hadn't spent 3 months in France learning French. I'd be dependent on people who speak English and French to help me the way I am with Portuguese. It would be hell on earth. I would recommend against anyone traveling extensively in Francophone Africa without learning a good bit of French. It would be horrible.
August 19, 2008 16:37 Guinea-Bissau local time
The first thing I noticed about the people is that they don't wear as many clothes as in the other parts I went through. In fact, on the way in, I saw three topless women working in their yards or on their porches. And I saw one girl with a long shirt (though not long enough) but no underwear stretching up to reach the clothpins on the clothesline. All this right outside in the open. With traffic going by. Even one guy was on his front porch taking his pants off with some sort of tighty whities underneath.
Another notable thing about the dress here is that there are more women in jeans. After Lululemon or green or gray thin-fabric hiking pants with lots of pockets and snaps and zippers and hooks and loops, jeans are the sexiest thing a woman can put on her legs. So there are a lot more seemingly sexy women here in Guinea-Bissau because there are a lot more jeans.
Islam seems to have less of a hold here. I saw a few Catholic missionaries. I guess the Iberian countries really spent more effort Catholicizing their colonies. I saw a couple people with Jesus shirts. And the buses don't seem to have the connections to Islam. The Red Cross (Cruz Vermilon or something like that) doesn't have the Red Crescent analogue with it.
It is interesting that all the signs and placards turn from French to Portuguese. They actually use it here. If in Brazil, why not here too? It's just funny to me that there would be a Portuguese speaking African nation.
The capital is Bissau. Apparently, Guinea-Bissau was the site of a civil war in the late 90's. And things have never been that great. And it shows. The buildings are old, about half of them boarded up and empty of anything in the way of useful enterprise. The streets are the pothole fixer's nightmare. And there isn't that much stuff. On top of that, tonight at least, parts of the city stank. I eventually saw smoke from my balcony so I realized that somewhere to the west, they were burning something--maybe garbage. The power is extremely unreliable. I don't understand how this city runs.
Morning In The Pensão Centrale, Afternoon In The Aparthotel Jordani
If my experience in Guinea-Bissau and Bissau can be described as hell on earth, my choice of where to spend the night can be described as the 9th circle. OK, that's exaggerating a bit. But I realized concretely what I have been reading in the Lonely Planet when they say "bucket water". That means there is no running water. There is a big rubber garbage container like an American has in his garage. And it's in the bathroom. And it's filled with water and has a cup floating in it. I had a nice pizza last night which meant I needed to get rid of the remains of pizza this morning. That means flushing the toilet. Not by pushing a button or pulling a lever. But by scooping water and pouring it in the toilet.
I tried the shower. Nothing. If you would want to take a shower, it would have to be from the same bucket. Want to wash your hands? Same bucket. And to top it off, the bathroom is between the hallway and the veranda (like every room here). You can close both doors but then it's dark. Or you can open one door and do your bathroom business and hope nobody pops their head in. I kept the one to the veranda slightly ajar.
I headed out about 8:30. I wanted to scope out more of the city and find the best pizzeria because it supposedly has good pastries and coffee in the morning. This time I found it. It was shackled. But I found another place at the southwest corner of the soccer stadium. On the inside it appears to be called the Continental Cafe. I don't remember what it's called on the outside, but it doesn't seem to be that. I saw pastries from the window. I went in and got a seat. I ordered a pastry and a coffee. The pastry turned out to be coconut flavored and it was yummy. I sat there reading The Road/La route.
Now I was finding that I was in a bit of jam. When I first read The Road--started on release day and finished within 48 hours--I cried at the end. When I first read it in French, I cried again. Now I was going to finish it. Would I cry here in the Continental Cafe? I read slowly. When I felt myself welling up, I slowed down. I teared up, but the tears never escaped the confines of my eyes. I sniffled a bit. If the waiter had come at the wrong time I would have lost it, though.
I finished my coffee and pastry, but now I was sort of thirsty. I noticed 4 different fruit juices. One looked like it might be orange juice and one looked like apple juice. I tried to order the orange juice, but he told me it wasn't orange--it was mango. I don't want mango juice, so asked if the apple juice looking one was apple juice. I was asking in French. I don't what he was telling me in Portuguese. So I ordered it and went back to reading. A couple of minutes later, he brought a maroon colored juice that I hadn't seen. I looked over at the 4 juices and the one that looked like apple juice was now maroon. It is papaya? I don't know. The maroon part is a powdery pulp that sinks to the bottom leaving an apple juice colored liquid on top. I just hadn't seen the bottom part where the maroon part was. It was a bit tart and a bit sweet. Not bad, but not what I wanted. I drank it though. Then I tried to pay which was a bit tricky since I thought I had asked for the bill but it didn't come so I just took my 5000 CFA bill up to the register.
After that, I went to another hotel that costs 5000 CFA more (US$10) but sounded much better. They had a room and it looked good. And the desk guy spoke French. So I took it and moved from the Pensão Centrale to the Aparthotel Jordani. Wow! What a difference. The first thing I did was take a much needed shower. Boy did that feel good. There isn't hot and cold running water, but there is running water. Whew! Having gotten myself nice and clean and fresh, I headed out to see if I could find post cards. It seemed like a problem. No place seemed to sell them but I had passed a tourist shop that looked like the best bet. I went in and just as I was about to leave dejected, viola, a basket of postcards. I took 2 and went up to pay. I handed them to the guy and he studied them carefully. Then he wouldn't take my money. He said some things in Portuguese then finally in English "give you". OK, so I got them for free. I bought 2 stamps for 350 CFA. Then headed back to the room.
I got a pen and headed out the local "fast food" place. I found it just to the north of the soccer stadium and went in. There was a Portuguese guy and no other customers. I sat down and ordered a beer--by now I'm reading the French version of Le route only--no The Road to check my comprehension. But then the guy turned on the Olympics. I started watching that. We watched the French women handball team play the Russian team, he switched around a bit to other channels with other events. Then he asked me in English, "English? French?" I told him I could watch either in English giving away my language preference for English. I asked him if the kitchen was open. He said it was until midnight.
So we watched the Olympics for a while. Some customers came and went. Then the guy's family came. He has a toddler and an infant. And this guy turned in crazy doting father. He made baby noises and faces for the next hour. It was funny and goofy. They turned it from the Olympics to Bob, l'Éponge for the kids. That's Spongebob Squarepants for those of you who didn't figure that out.
I decided to order a hamburger with fries. But when I tried to order, I couldn't understand the waitress, so I had the guy help me. I said I wanted a hamburger with "fries", but he heard "rice". Finally, when he said they could do chips, I realized I needed to use the British version of the term for fries and got the order switched chips with no rice. The hamburger came with no bun, but a fried egg on top and sprinkled but not melted cheese. That and 2 beers cost 3000 CFA (US$6).
One of the nice things about this leg in Guinea-Bissau, is that I'm learning what traveling in Africa would have been like if I hadn't spent 3 months in France learning French. I'd be dependent on people who speak English and French to help me the way I am with Portuguese. It would be hell on earth. I would recommend against anyone traveling extensively in Francophone Africa without learning a good bit of French. It would be horrible.
August 19, 2008 16:37 Guinea-Bissau local time
First Evening In Bissau
Last night I consulted the Lonely Planet to get some options on where to eat, and headed out. My primary destination: the place described as the best pizzeria in town. The secondary place--a Chinese place supposedly next door to a Senegalese place. I couldn't find the pizza place. So I headed in the direction of the Senegalese place. On the way I saw a closed Chinese place called Dragon. I passed the Presidential palace not noticing that the roof had been destroyed during the civil war ten years ago. That's how beat up Bissau is--you don't even notice missing roofs off major buildings. I went up toward where the Senegalese place was. I passed a place called Bar Sara that had a couple tables of white people but it also had takeout pizza boxes. It was about a block before the Senegalese place but there was no sign of the Chinese place that's supposed to be next door.
So what to eat? It's funny, but I'm more self-conscious about going into a restaurant of white people in Africa than black people. Like if I walk in, they'll think "look a lone white guy. I wonder if he wants to talk to us. How can we get rid of him if tries?" But, the pizza boxes were calling. I went "in"--there is not really an inside. A woman, dark skin but not black said "ça va?" and I replied "ça va" and rushed past to sit down. I sat there for a while and she came over. She asked "ça va?" again and asked if I was going to eat. At this point I figured out she was the probable owner or manager. I'm not sure if her French was second language French. It seemed almost as awkward as mine for some reason. This place has no menu. You just sort of have to order. She listed a bunch of things one of which was pizza. I said pizza. Then we had to do toppings. We managed to come up with a light list of some sort of meat, onion, tomato, and mushrooms. I ordered a large. And a beer.
When the pizza arrived, it was missing the tomato and onion, but it tasted pretty good otherwise. The meal cost me about 3000 CFA (US$6).
I headed back and tried to find the Bonjour Supermarket. I thought I found it and it was shackled. I found another supermarket and entered. I decided to buy a can of ravioli in Italian sauce--maybe for later, maybe the next day. The restaurant situation seemed dire. I think the can was supposed to be 1500 CFA but I got 4500 CFA back from my 5000 CFA note.
Then back to the room where the power was not yet on.
August 19, 2008 16:00 Guinea-Bissau local time
So what to eat? It's funny, but I'm more self-conscious about going into a restaurant of white people in Africa than black people. Like if I walk in, they'll think "look a lone white guy. I wonder if he wants to talk to us. How can we get rid of him if tries?" But, the pizza boxes were calling. I went "in"--there is not really an inside. A woman, dark skin but not black said "ça va?" and I replied "ça va" and rushed past to sit down. I sat there for a while and she came over. She asked "ça va?" again and asked if I was going to eat. At this point I figured out she was the probable owner or manager. I'm not sure if her French was second language French. It seemed almost as awkward as mine for some reason. This place has no menu. You just sort of have to order. She listed a bunch of things one of which was pizza. I said pizza. Then we had to do toppings. We managed to come up with a light list of some sort of meat, onion, tomato, and mushrooms. I ordered a large. And a beer.
When the pizza arrived, it was missing the tomato and onion, but it tasted pretty good otherwise. The meal cost me about 3000 CFA (US$6).
I headed back and tried to find the Bonjour Supermarket. I thought I found it and it was shackled. I found another supermarket and entered. I decided to buy a can of ravioli in Italian sauce--maybe for later, maybe the next day. The restaurant situation seemed dire. I think the can was supposed to be 1500 CFA but I got 4500 CFA back from my 5000 CFA note.
Then back to the room where the power was not yet on.
August 19, 2008 16:00 Guinea-Bissau local time
Impressions of Gambia and Ziguinchor
I usually do an impressions post but I didn't do one for these places yet. Banjul is an interesting place. Rainy, English written everywhere--often misspelled--like the "Lub Bay" at the local gas station. They seem a bit behind the Senegalese. But that may be just because Banjul is a really small city whereas Dakar is a large city. There a lot of stores near the port. Many sell African cloth. If I were a sewer, I would be in textile heaven in Africa. The cloth here is the most amazing cloth I've ever seen in my life. I had a hard time finding postcards. I guess they don't really do them here. I found some at the museum, but that's it.
A lot of the goods here move around in wheelbarrows. You're always seeing people carting stuff around in wheelbarrows. Seems inconvenient. A two wheeled cart would be much better.
The public transportation system is a bit tricky to learn at first, but I figured it out just as I was leaving Banjul. Were I to stay there longer, I would have done D6 bus rides to the Atlantic coast rather than the D200 taxi rides.
The Atlantic resorts are semi-decent. They try. But there's no getting around the fact that The Gambia is a poor and slowly developing nation.
Ziguinchor is bigger than Banjul, apparently. The downtown is probably smaller, though. It was wet the whole time I was there. I walked the streets that had stuff according to the Lonely Planet. There wasn't much there. I saw the big boat that lies it's way between Dakar and Ziguinchor sitting at dock. Quite an impressive boat. Maybe that boat is why all those white people were there?
Even though it isn't really a tourist destination, there is still apparently enough tourism that the "Mon Ami! Ça va?" shysters can still be found.
La Flamboyant Hotel is quite interesting. They don't seem to trust anyone. You have to pay before you get your room, and when you checkout, they check your mini-bar fridge before giving you your deposit back. I guess it makes sense. Just sort of odd. They also require a long code to get the WiFi. But the WiFi connection is good. I downloaded the iTunes update and 22 episodes of This American Life. And got all caught up on all my blogging--both the ones I read and the one I write.
But not much else stands out about these places other than that.
A lot of the goods here move around in wheelbarrows. You're always seeing people carting stuff around in wheelbarrows. Seems inconvenient. A two wheeled cart would be much better.
The public transportation system is a bit tricky to learn at first, but I figured it out just as I was leaving Banjul. Were I to stay there longer, I would have done D6 bus rides to the Atlantic coast rather than the D200 taxi rides.
The Atlantic resorts are semi-decent. They try. But there's no getting around the fact that The Gambia is a poor and slowly developing nation.
Ziguinchor is bigger than Banjul, apparently. The downtown is probably smaller, though. It was wet the whole time I was there. I walked the streets that had stuff according to the Lonely Planet. There wasn't much there. I saw the big boat that lies it's way between Dakar and Ziguinchor sitting at dock. Quite an impressive boat. Maybe that boat is why all those white people were there?
Even though it isn't really a tourist destination, there is still apparently enough tourism that the "Mon Ami! Ça va?" shysters can still be found.
La Flamboyant Hotel is quite interesting. They don't seem to trust anyone. You have to pay before you get your room, and when you checkout, they check your mini-bar fridge before giving you your deposit back. I guess it makes sense. Just sort of odd. They also require a long code to get the WiFi. But the WiFi connection is good. I downloaded the iTunes update and 22 episodes of This American Life. And got all caught up on all my blogging--both the ones I read and the one I write.
But not much else stands out about these places other than that.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Ziguinchor To Bissau
I woke up at 6 am, snoozed until 7, listened to music till 8, and then showered, settled my minibar tab (1600 CFA or $3.20 for 2 beers), and then headed out to the gare routier at 9. The road was about 50% brown standing water and it was sort of misting.
I got to the gare and asked where the sept-places to Bissau were. I found them and paid for a ticket (2500 CFA) my bag (1000 CFA) and got a rather comfortable seat. I was #2 of 7. While I waited, the guy who helped with the ticket got me a 1.5 liter water which was 8000 CFA but I let him keep the change from a 2000 CFA bill. That made his day. I also bought a handkerchief for 100 CFA. I almost paid 300 CFA. When I hear the French "cent" the Japanese "san" registers and I think 3 instead of 100.
(BTW the power just came on--whew! I guess they turn it on at night for a while at least.)
The sept-place wasn't seeming to fill up very fast but at 10, a family came and voila! At 10:10 we had gassed up, gotten our tires inflated at the tire shop, bought a baguette (the mother) which smelled so French and yummy, and hit the road.
It was pretty short to the border. The road is really good in Senegal. The driver let us out and we all went over to the police. Three of us had passports--two Gambians and me. The others were of a nationality requiring only some ID card. The border police duly entered my information into his ledger and handed me the passport with a stamp, partly on the plastic sheet that connects my new pages. Why do the immigration officials like to stamp that plastic thing? It wasn't even 11. Then we headed a little further and I guess we were in Guinea-Bissau thought there was no sign like "You are now entering Guinea-Bissau". This was a tad more complex. We first went to customs. One officer looked at the luggage in the back of the sept-place while I was instructed (I think) to take my passport over to some guys at the side of the road. Because I had my laptop in my lap, I had it with me and the customs guy made me open it. He asked for the "facture" which is French for invoice. I told him "je n'ai pas un facture". He looked a little more at the wires and stuff, and then let me go. One of the guys from my car asked what I thought of the US election. I told him I hoped Obama would win. He was an Obama fan too.
So we got back into the car and headed a few feet down to the immigration police. I went up and the guy at the front door looked for my visa. He finally found it after a bit of a search since my passport is pretty thick now. He brought me in and laid my passport down open to the visa page. Then the lady at the desk picked it up and lost the page. She asked for the "residence" and I told her "Les États Unis". She looked confused. I asked "visa?" She said yes. I found it and showed it to her. She got out her ledger and checked me into Guinea-Bissau and gave me an entry stamp. It was only like 11:30.
(The power keeps flickering in and out. It's driving me crazy.)
We drove toward Bissau. A few minutes later, we passed another customs point. The driver stopped and a customs guy looked in the back. Then a bit down the road from customs, another immigration checkpoint. I went up to the counter and showed the guy my passport along with everyone else. He had a hard time finding the visa, but I found it for him.
Then we were on what looked like a really nice road when it ended in a detour. Then I realized, it wasn't a detour, it was a ferry. Actually, there is a nice looking bridge under construction. Would that it were complete. We piled out of the car. It was noon-ish. And on again off again rain now turned to sun making the humidity that much worse. Across the other side, the ferry was going around in circles near a bridge pile under construction just downstream from the landing. The ferry apparently doesn't use its own power and a boat was lashed to its side. But there seemed a control problem. Another boat came in and help get the situation under control. They eventually did and about a half an hour later, the ferry headed over to us. I watched as it almost seemed to crash into the concrete landing. No grace at all. Men started to secure the ferry, but the passengers were already hopping off. The ramp is only on one side, so all the cars and trucks had to back off the ferry. Some of the last ones did Y-turns on the ferry deck and drove off. None of the other people from my car got into the car. They all bought tickets for the ferry, so I did too. It was 300 CFA or US$0.60. Not bad. I hopped on and watched the water as we pulled away.
The boat took quite a ways upstream from the landing. Then it unlashed and came around to the other side. It aimed right at me and came within 2 or 3 feet of my face. A guy tried to pull me back, but it all so slow and I knew I was totally safe. They relashed the boat and then chugged into the landing. We all piled off and the car was waiting by the time I found it. Then we were off. It was about 1:30 ish.
We crossed another bridge that was probably a ferry at one time. I was happy there was a bridge. Then another customs point. Same drill--driver lets the girl see the back. Then same as last time, another immigration point a few feet down the road. This time I didn't have to get out--the guy came to the car and looked at my passport. But there was some sort of irregularity with one of the youth's ID and that took about 10 minutes to resolve. Then we were on our way.
We got to Bissau at about 2:30. I got a cab with the other guys from my car. I paid 1500 CFA to get to the Pensão Centrale. It took a long time to get the cab driver to understand me. I also think he stopped to ask a couple guy for directions. We got there pretty soon. It is an old building right in downtown Bissau. It has huge verandas with tables and chairs. The reception is on the first floor--that's the second floor for us Americans. So I went in and looked confused as to what to do. I asked ou se trouve the reception to a white man sitting with a really old white lady. He asked "do you speak English?" in an accent reminiscent of Ricardo's. "That's even better," I replied. "My French isn't that good," the guy said. So he helped me. The woman he was with is the proprietress. I saw the room. It was acceptable to me (sure wouldn't be for Elena) and I went down and paid 20000 CFA. Then I got a 1.5 liter water and a Cristal and sat and relaxed on the wide veranda watching the city and reflecting on my trip.
August 18, 2008 20:00 Guinea-Bissau local time
I got to the gare and asked where the sept-places to Bissau were. I found them and paid for a ticket (2500 CFA) my bag (1000 CFA) and got a rather comfortable seat. I was #2 of 7. While I waited, the guy who helped with the ticket got me a 1.5 liter water which was 8000 CFA but I let him keep the change from a 2000 CFA bill. That made his day. I also bought a handkerchief for 100 CFA. I almost paid 300 CFA. When I hear the French "cent" the Japanese "san" registers and I think 3 instead of 100.
(BTW the power just came on--whew! I guess they turn it on at night for a while at least.)
The sept-place wasn't seeming to fill up very fast but at 10, a family came and voila! At 10:10 we had gassed up, gotten our tires inflated at the tire shop, bought a baguette (the mother) which smelled so French and yummy, and hit the road.
It was pretty short to the border. The road is really good in Senegal. The driver let us out and we all went over to the police. Three of us had passports--two Gambians and me. The others were of a nationality requiring only some ID card. The border police duly entered my information into his ledger and handed me the passport with a stamp, partly on the plastic sheet that connects my new pages. Why do the immigration officials like to stamp that plastic thing? It wasn't even 11. Then we headed a little further and I guess we were in Guinea-Bissau thought there was no sign like "You are now entering Guinea-Bissau". This was a tad more complex. We first went to customs. One officer looked at the luggage in the back of the sept-place while I was instructed (I think) to take my passport over to some guys at the side of the road. Because I had my laptop in my lap, I had it with me and the customs guy made me open it. He asked for the "facture" which is French for invoice. I told him "je n'ai pas un facture". He looked a little more at the wires and stuff, and then let me go. One of the guys from my car asked what I thought of the US election. I told him I hoped Obama would win. He was an Obama fan too.
So we got back into the car and headed a few feet down to the immigration police. I went up and the guy at the front door looked for my visa. He finally found it after a bit of a search since my passport is pretty thick now. He brought me in and laid my passport down open to the visa page. Then the lady at the desk picked it up and lost the page. She asked for the "residence" and I told her "Les États Unis". She looked confused. I asked "visa?" She said yes. I found it and showed it to her. She got out her ledger and checked me into Guinea-Bissau and gave me an entry stamp. It was only like 11:30.
(The power keeps flickering in and out. It's driving me crazy.)
We drove toward Bissau. A few minutes later, we passed another customs point. The driver stopped and a customs guy looked in the back. Then a bit down the road from customs, another immigration checkpoint. I went up to the counter and showed the guy my passport along with everyone else. He had a hard time finding the visa, but I found it for him.
Then we were on what looked like a really nice road when it ended in a detour. Then I realized, it wasn't a detour, it was a ferry. Actually, there is a nice looking bridge under construction. Would that it were complete. We piled out of the car. It was noon-ish. And on again off again rain now turned to sun making the humidity that much worse. Across the other side, the ferry was going around in circles near a bridge pile under construction just downstream from the landing. The ferry apparently doesn't use its own power and a boat was lashed to its side. But there seemed a control problem. Another boat came in and help get the situation under control. They eventually did and about a half an hour later, the ferry headed over to us. I watched as it almost seemed to crash into the concrete landing. No grace at all. Men started to secure the ferry, but the passengers were already hopping off. The ramp is only on one side, so all the cars and trucks had to back off the ferry. Some of the last ones did Y-turns on the ferry deck and drove off. None of the other people from my car got into the car. They all bought tickets for the ferry, so I did too. It was 300 CFA or US$0.60. Not bad. I hopped on and watched the water as we pulled away.
The boat took quite a ways upstream from the landing. Then it unlashed and came around to the other side. It aimed right at me and came within 2 or 3 feet of my face. A guy tried to pull me back, but it all so slow and I knew I was totally safe. They relashed the boat and then chugged into the landing. We all piled off and the car was waiting by the time I found it. Then we were off. It was about 1:30 ish.
We crossed another bridge that was probably a ferry at one time. I was happy there was a bridge. Then another customs point. Same drill--driver lets the girl see the back. Then same as last time, another immigration point a few feet down the road. This time I didn't have to get out--the guy came to the car and looked at my passport. But there was some sort of irregularity with one of the youth's ID and that took about 10 minutes to resolve. Then we were on our way.
We got to Bissau at about 2:30. I got a cab with the other guys from my car. I paid 1500 CFA to get to the Pensão Centrale. It took a long time to get the cab driver to understand me. I also think he stopped to ask a couple guy for directions. We got there pretty soon. It is an old building right in downtown Bissau. It has huge verandas with tables and chairs. The reception is on the first floor--that's the second floor for us Americans. So I went in and looked confused as to what to do. I asked ou se trouve the reception to a white man sitting with a really old white lady. He asked "do you speak English?" in an accent reminiscent of Ricardo's. "That's even better," I replied. "My French isn't that good," the guy said. So he helped me. The woman he was with is the proprietress. I saw the room. It was acceptable to me (sure wouldn't be for Elena) and I went down and paid 20000 CFA. Then I got a 1.5 liter water and a Cristal and sat and relaxed on the wide veranda watching the city and reflecting on my trip.
August 18, 2008 20:00 Guinea-Bissau local time
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