Breakdown!

Yesterday I set off on my bike around 2pm to attend a meeting at a school. About half way through my journey the bike's engine just cut out. Luckily at this point of the journey I was on a main road so I pulled over and decided to do the routine checks they tell you about in training.

I'm no mechanic but I realised that something quite serious was wrong when the 'kick start thingy' (told you I was no mechanic) had no resistance when I put my foot on it, it simply dropped down when very little pressure was applied. I also checked the oil and water and pulled the little fuel tube away from the little fuel 'bit' that it's connected to (to make sure that fuel was flowing to the engine) - I saw all this done during training!

Within about 20 seconds I realised that this was too complex a breakdown for me to deal with (basically unless it involves turning the fuel tank setting to ‘reserve’ then I’m stuck  - and sometimes I even find that a bit tricky as the ‘turning thing’ can be difficult to manoeuvre) Anyway I called 'Riders' (they are the NGO that deal with our motorbikes, they did the training in Kanifing in the Kombos and have workshops across The Gambia – fortunately one of those workshops is in Kerewan – apparently before they had a workshop in Kerewan, when you broke down you would have to wait for someone to come from Kanifing in Kombo)!

The guy from Riders asked me what the problem was so I gave him my detailed analysis (as specified above). I sometimes get the impression that the guys from Riders don’t think women are suited to riding motorbikes! I’ve NEVER seen a Gambian woman ride a motorbike and during our motorbike training one of the trainers said that he was going to ‘go through the points slowly because we all know how women’s heads get muddled and they are easily confused’!!!  Following the brief and rather disjointed telephone conversation (during which I confirmed that women were easily confused because I couldn’t actually tell him where I was. I remembered the name of a couple of the villages that I had passed through but not the last on – but at least I was on the main road?!) the guy from Riders told me to hold on and that he would come and find me.

So I was stranded! Luckily I had a bottle of water, reception on one of my phones and a camera!! Yes a camera! Therefore enabling me to take some ‘memorable’ pictures of my first breakdown!!

After about an hour the guy from Riders turned up on his motorbike? (He clearly didn’t think that my breakdown was going to require much attention)! However after a few minutes examining my bike he announced, ‘this is a serious breakdown’. These words filled me with joy! Which seems quite strange because why would anyone want a serious breakdown? This would mean that I would be without the bike for a while? But the truth is that as I was waiting for the mechanic to turn up I started becoming anxious and concerned about how embarrassed I would be if he was able to start the motorbike within a few seconds. (One morning I was unable to start my bike from outside my house so I called Riders and they said that they would come and look at it later. When I returned home from work and before the mechanic from Riders had arrived, I decided to try the bike again and to my surprise it worked!! I then had to ring Riders and tell them not to come out because my bike worked now. Once again confirming the belief that women and motorbikes are not well-matched)!

So a serious breakdown! I knew it!!! There was no vehicle to transport my bike back to Kerewan so the mechanic suggested that we tie a rope between our bikes and that he would tow me back. However there was no rope so after a few unsuccessful attempts with bungee cords he then produced a bandage! (The people here are so resourceful). This was a success and he was able to tow me back – that is until his fuel ran out and we came to a standstill again! After he had transferred fuel from my tank to his (using my water bottle, so now I was out of water!) we continued on our way!!

My bike is currently with Riders and hopefully I will have it back in the next few days. (For anyone interested in bikes apparently the piston is broken?) It was funny though because the day before my breakdown the speedometer on my bike had stopped working and I had been meaning to take it to Riders the following day but I’d just been too busy. Following my breakdown the mechanic asked me how fast I was going and I had to confess that I didn’t know! Women and motorbikes hey?!!!!

Nothing this way!

Nothing that way!

Stranded with my camera!!

Ñino Jalo

Last night I went out to the pit latrine area and just as I was about to enter I saw a strange creature coming out of the hole where the water drains away. It was dark and though I had a torch I still was unable to make out exactly what the creature was (also I wanted to maintain a 'safe' distance).

The creature was about 8 inches long and about 2 inches wide. It looked and moved like a rodent but it was jet black and didn't appear to have a tail. Initially I thought it might be a lizard but its movement was mouse-like. It ran around in the latrine area and then it went down the 'plug hole'. The creature was disturbing and watching it disappear down the plug was gross!!

I waited for a little while, head torch on - not wanting to get too close to the hole and then out it came again. It was like an extended mole. Freaky. I had noticed that there were sometimes strange animal faeces (like huge mouse poo) in the latrine area but I was hoping that they had just appeared by magic?!!

What should I do? I can’t evacuate the latrine area, it's where I wash, clean my teeth, and relieve myself! I wasn't going to let it win! So I did my business as fast as I could (keeping a close eye on the plug hole all the time) and then ran inside and bolted the door. I felt quite brave!!

This morning when I went out to the latrine area I cautiously peered round the wall before entering and then I positioned myself in a 'quick getaway' position and poured water down the plug hole - nothing happened. I poured a little more - nothing happened. I then did my business and a short while later I had a bucket shower.

At work this morning I felt compelled to tell one of my colleagues about my strange latrine creature. I describe it just as I have above and when I had finished he said, 'you have a ñino jalo'.

Ñino jalo? What on earth was that? Well apparently it is Mandinka for a type of mouse. It is black, long and thin and has a very short tail. For the Mandinka people it is seen as the worst type of mouse because it is known to bite people! According to my colleague, it has a long mouth and very sharp teeth and can bite through anything. It's name comes from a translation of 'singing mouse' and it's known for making a loud noise that is very disturbing (fortunately this mouse lives outside my house and there is such a variety of random noises going on throughout the night that I haven’t singled out this particular mouse noise!)

Anyway, my colleague told me that 'ñino jalo' was 'bad, very bad indeed' and it needs to be killed. I am in agreement with him. A human-biting, night time screaming rat-like mouse in my plug hole? Yuk. It's got to go!

My colleague suggested pouring boiling water down the hole, 'keep doing it again and again and it will burn its skin'!!!!?? To me that sounds more like a 'final stage’; don’t really want a skinless rodent running around in the middle of the night looking like a victim from a nuclear assault. No, I think stage one will have to be a rat trap in the latrine area (a mouse trap would be too small to catch this thing but big sister Lucy must have anticipated that such troubles lay ahead for me as she recently sent me a package containing equipment for a war against mice which included two rat traps).

I will put the trap out this evening and allow 48 hours (that’s what it suggests on the box). If this is unsuccessful I will move to stage two (I’m not sure what this would be yet but I know that it will not involve boiling water - that would be stage 3!)

I will keep you posted (hopefully with a picture of a dead ñino jalo)!!

The silence of the rams!

Well Tobaski and has been and gone and a wonderful time was had by all (humans that is - it wasn’t such a great time for livestock, particularly rams)! I have to admit that the title of my post was not an original idea, it was just something that another VSO told me and I found it really funny!

Some friends from Kombo came to stay in Kerewan for Tobaski to experience 'up-country' living (life in the Kombos is quite a unique Gambian experience)!

It was a great few days. One evening we made a fire on the pier and the men even went in the river (on reflection this was not a very sensible thing for them to do but they had been alcohol-fuelled and they were grown men so who am I to protest?  - Also there was a quite a bit of nakedness involved!!)

The actual slaughtering of the rams was pretty smooth too. Some of the males from the compound held them down whilst step-dad swiftly slit its throats and then broke its neck. They slaughtered five in total. They laid their bodies on sheets of metal from the compound then skinned and butchered them as soon as they had killed the last ram (not the most hygienic environment but I’m not complaining)!

During the slaughterer people gathered round to watch and then afterwards people took bits of meat (as well as intestines, brains and other internal organs) and began to cook. One lady from the compound very kindly cooked a huge plate of rice with meat for me and 'my strangers' (that's what the people on the compound call people who come to visit!)

Later that evening (after my 'strangers' had left), I was given an African traditional outfit to wear so that I could attend the evening meat-eating session!!! People were very impressed with my outfit (so was I to be honest, it was an excellent fit and I was a bit sad to have to return it! I think I’m going to copy the design and have a similar outfit made for special occasions) and I also put on some beads that a neighbour gave me as a birthday present! I was a very Gambian experience and an excellent one at that.

The first ram to be slaughtered (this was the biggest). Step-dad watches as the boys firmly hold it down

Step-dad moves in and takes his position

The cutting

The rams head is sort of twisted (i assume this is to ensure that it is dead)

It's dead now (but for a good 5 mins afterwards it did random kicks etc -  maybe muscle spasms?)

About to do ram number three (note the others behind)!

Close-up. Ready for action

The cut is made

I love this picture, it shows step-dad waiting for the last ram to be carried over but the way he is stood with the knife and the dead rams around him is classic! Should add the caption: don't mess with step-dad!

Here are the guys getting the metal sheets (ready for the 'butchering')

Step-dad begins to skin the ram

All family member join in

There's really not much left when they have finished.

And now for something totally different!!! Me in my Tobaski clothes! Very Gambian!

My birthday party!

Recently it was my birthday and I had a wonderful birthday party courtesy of Paul and Nathan.

Paul had prepared a 'pass-the-parcel' made out of layers of carrier bags (paper is quite hard to come by!) and in each layer there was a forfeit and an accompanying object (linked to the forfeit). It was fantastic and really good fun. We changed the music every time we started passing the parcel and the person who held the parcel when the words of a track began had to unwrap a layer.

The forfeits were entertaining and one of the highlights was when Paul had to drink a 'milk based cocktail' (the accompanying object was a milk sachet)! The final layer of the parcel was a special prize just for me! Paul had carefully arranged little plastic packets of whiskey across three sheets of (precious) paper to spell out my name! It was wonderful - very artistic!!

After pass-the-parcel we played a card game called 'The Kings Cup'. It involved quite a lot of drinking and was really good fun (definitely one I’ll be teaching people when I return to England)!! After the Kings Cup we moved onto 'pin the tail on the donkey'. (Nathan had very kindly drawn a donkey, made some tails and provided a blindfold though given the way animals are sometimes treated here I’m sure nobody would have protested if we had actually tried to pin a tail on a real donkey)!

Needless to say by the time we played 'pin the tail on the donkey' we had all had a few drinks and finding the right spot was difficult but fun. Finally we played a few games of poker (can't really remember too much about that though)!!


It was a truly excellent birthday!

Paul drinking the milk-based cocktail

Nathan opening 'pass-the-parcel'

My whiskey prize!!

Me (totally sober)

The party-goers!!!

Ready to play 'The King's Cup'

The donkey is behind you Nathan!

The donkey!!

Do you know where you're coming from?

Since arriving in his accommodation in Kerewan, Nathan has been painting a picture on one of the walls in his house. Nathan is a wonderful artist (even came to The Gambia with paints!!) and has a background in graphic design and the painting on his wall is technically and artistically impressive HOWEVER the subject of the painting is somewhat 'dark' to say the least.

It depicts (so far as it's a work in progress) a monkey painting a picture of a machine that appears to be producing human internal organs. There is a ribcage central to the picture and various arteries connected to different parts of the machine. There is also a rather evil looking emaciated monkey in the picture who is eating a human brain?

As I said before the actual artwork is superb though the content is a little disturbing. When he has completed it (which might not be for a long time as it’s so huge and detailed) I will be sure to take some pictures and put them on the blog!

Anyway, as Nathan knew that my birthday was approaching he offered to paint me a picture of some sort (I think he meant on paper but I decided to take advantage of his kind offer and suggest that he paint something on one of the walls in my house for me)! Nathan was most obliging and once I told him what I wanted he began work the following day. Needless to say I decided not to have the brain-eating monkey and went for something much more British!

It took two days to complete and he really did do a wonderful job! All the visitors to my house have been suitably impressed though very few actually know what it is!

Rams for Tobaski

Next week people in The Gambia will be celebrating Tobaski. (click on word for more information)

As part of the celebration rams are slaughtered and the number and size of the ram(s) that you have determines your family/compound wealth. Some families can't afford a ram others can only afford a small ram or a sheep but I’ve been told several times that nobody should be without meat so therefore wealthy families give some of their meat to poorer families (whether this actually happens and how much they give I  really don’t know).

Well Ceesay Kunda is a considered wealthy compound (something that Dad and Step-dad are very proud of) and Paul tells me that last year they slaughtered 5 rams!!! Paul also told me that the slaughtering of the rams last year made him feel quite 'uneasy'. They are killed on the compound one at a time and I’m told that it's a bloody affair!  It's a special event and everybody on the compound comes to watch (Paul also said that some of the children do impressions of the dying rams?!!!)

Well a couple of nights ago I heard some strange noises from outside so I went to see what was going on. The men of the family were 'ushering' some rams into the compound (5 for Ceesay Kunda and about 6 for the shopkeeper to sell). They were big rams with impressive looking horns and some of the women told me that they must be from Senegal. (I've noticed here that everything grand, expensive, different, extravagant etc is believed to have come from Senegal)!

As I went to have a closer look at the rams I couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for them! They only have about a week left now!!!

For the actual Tobaski celebrations I have some friends coming over from Kombo (Tom, Berni, Pete and two of Pete's friends from England). They want to experience compound life during Tobaski (the slaughtering of the rams included) and Nathan has very kindly offered to help me accommodate them all.

Little do they know! Or do they????

Fajara War Cemetery

At the weekend I was in Kombo and decided to visit the Fajara War Cemetery. I've walked past it several times and have always intended to have a look around but for various reasons it just hasn't been convenient. However this weekend as I walked past I suddenly felt overwhelmed by the urge to spend some time there.

As I opened the gate and stepped inside it was like entering a new world! The noise and hustle and bustle of the street seemed to stop (or at least I became oblivious to it).

It's a fascinating little place and I was surprised to see that there are actually 63 British soldiers buried there! Check out the link below.

Commonwealth War Graves Commission

‘coᶇ-coᶇ’

This must be Mandinka for ‘knock-knock’. It is what people say when they knock on your door and what the small children say as they walk into your house!

Recently I cut up an old mosquito net and hung it from the front door so that when I’m inside the house (cooking, working etc) and it’s really hot, I’m able to leave the door open.

Unfortunately to the children on my compound this seems to mean that my house is ‘open’ and they just walk in without even bothering to say ‘coᶇ-coᶇ’!

I even saw little Kaddy wrapping herself round and round in my net as though it was an additional toy that I’ve left out for them!

Obviously I’ve had words but when my words are in English and they only speak Mandinka it can get quite tricky. I say ‘hani’ a lot (that means ‘no’) and then I usually repeat the action saying ‘hani’ again which they think is hilarious! They know!!!!

How can you tell this lot off?!!

Marriage!

Ceesay Kunda is a lively compound with lots of noises throughout the day and night. Most of the noises I have become accustomed to now such as the ‘call to prayer’ sounding out through the loud speakers of the mosque at various times of the day; parents banging on the doors and shouting in an attempt to wake those who find it difficult to get up for the 5:45am prayer; the pounding of rice and cous from the early hours on the morning; the music from the radio and evening chatter from those enjoying attayah; the greetings of those returning from the fields or gardens and the sound of children playing.

However recently I heard an unfamiliar noise coming from within the compound. There was beating of a drum and cheering and shouting and it sounded like a celebration was taking place. There was excitement in the air and the shouting and singing got louder and more and more drums began to beat at a wild and ferocious pace.

I wondered what this sudden and unannounced celebration could be so I left my house and followed the noise. Just around the corner there was a group of children from the compound. Two were seated on chairs side by side and in front of them was a little table with toys on it (they were actually from my toy box but they were laid out on a little material covered table as though they were gifts). The remainder of the children were scattered around beating water cans with sticks and doing Mandinka dancing around the children on the chair.

When I appeared the shouting and singing got louder and a wave of energy came over the children whose movements and actions became even more animated and exaggerated. Some of the children called out my name and as I walked towards them with a bewildered look on my face one of them smiled and said reassuringly, ‘marriage’.

With that information and further examination it became clear that the children had staged a wedding. I’ve never been to a Mandinka wedding so I wouldn’t like to say how accurate the drama was! Everyone was really excited with perhaps the exception of those I identified as the bride and groom who looked a little overwhelmed!

By the time I returned to the celebrations (after going to the house to get my camera) the hysterical atmosphere had reduced considerably and the children were more interested in posing for a picture rather than allowing me to capture the scene!

The wedding celebrations!

The happy couple!

The wedding guests

Random phone pictures

Recently Fatoumata borrowed my phone to ‘listen to music’ as she was working. When she returned it there were two new photographs on the phone (neither of her)! They both really made me laugh so I thought that I would share them! The first is of Ajebintou ‘posing’ and the second is of baby Mama!

Halloween

Halloween is not something that I usually celebrate and it’s not even known over here however Courtney was visiting Paul for the weekend and we came up with the wonderful idea of making pumpkin lights. Sadly we didn’t have pumpkins so we had to make do with incredibly small butter nut squashes!

It was quite tricky given their size and I was very pleased with my efforts (Courtney did several all of which were very impressive but as an American she had an unfair advantage in that she’s been celebrating Halloween and carving pumpkins from a very early age)!!

The whole process took about half an hour (including taking pictures) and that was the end of the Halloween celebrations. Oh how I missed the kids knocking on my door asking for sweets in return for not vandalising my processions! 

All the butter-nut-squash together!
(To give you an idea of scale the faces are sat on tin cans at the back and 'jenga' pieces)

My little fellow!