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