Patrick and I have found ourselves very confused. This city is just weirding us out. It’s like we’re in a Portuguese oasis far away from Brazil, because this is nothing like what I thought Brazil would be like. It radiates rules, organization, boundaries and nothing to do but eat good food (phew). I got laughed at yesterday over and over because I couldn’t speak Portuguese. They just couldn’t fathom it, they thought it was hysterical. This made me laugh hysterically myself. They clearly wanted to help but, well, first I didn’t want them to and it wasn’t always easy to have them leave you alone. I had someone who searched his store for an English speaker before trying to tell me there was no one and I just kept trying to say it’s ok. It’s ok it’s ok! (Thumbs up) I look only! (Point to eyes). I really think that I have never had such a major issue with the language barrier before, even in Portuguese Africa. Even they can understand a word or two of English. We had the taxi drive us to the shopping center and when we went to leave there, there was no taxi in sight. None. We had to walk along the road which really was not pedestrian-friendly at all until we came upon a Hyundai dealer. We stopped there for some car service prices and ended up talking to a super nice guy who spoke perfect English; he had lived in NY for a long while. He gave us a long list of great restaurants to visit while we were going to be here. We finally ended up getting a taxi back (taxis don’t appear to be used that often in this city, it seems most people drive.)
We wanted to go to dinner yesterday at one of the suggested restaurants. We got in the taxi, and arrived at a small center with a gym on the first floor and a spa on the second floor and that’s all we could see. “Is this Camaroes? We asked the driver. Yes, yes. We got in an elevator and pressed the “restaurant” button for the 3rd floor. We were at a restaurant, but there was no name of this restaurant anywhere. In fact, the menu even had an advertisement for a different restaurant (I was convinced that the different restaurant was the one we were actually at). We had no idea where we were, or if we were at the right place. It was so strange. We sat outside and cracked up as I tried to tell the waiter no nuts but he completely thought I was talking about looking for a creamy entree. Then it took forever to order and he found a guy who spoke some English to help out a little in order to pick “the best entrée” because Patrick and I couldn’t read a word of the menu. We both got girly drinks, and when Patrick tried to order a beer, he got another girly drink. Then it took a while even to get a taxi because we had language issues. Wouldn’t you think TAXI is an international term? Once we said taxi, the hostess said tax… tax… no TAXI Patrick said. Eventually we figured it out, but not before causing the girl to have to go behind the wall and crack up which caused me to crack up as well. The only way we found out we were actually at the right restaurant was because Patrick’s charge slip said it. Ahhh what a really strange city. Really. We live in the hotel sector which is all hotels dating back to the 60’s. The architecture is all from the 60’s, or appears to be as well - all space-lookin architecture. Probably one of the strangest places I have ever been.
Today I slept in. To 12. It was really nice, especially because I couldn’t sleep well at all last night. I kept having the strangest, broadest range of nightmares from spiders crawling on me to people being in my room (coming in from the door and the balcony) and my friends drugging me so I had no idea what was going on, to trying to scream and not being able to. Very disturbing. Time to get a move on to the day…. Lata!!
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
Brasilia
Today, same stuff as yesterday. Pretty uneventful – had no problems with permission. Language is really a huge barrier here for some strange reason. Usually when I have a problem it’s not that hard to deal with, but I’m wishing I was able to say a little more than bon tard and bon noch and obrigado. It’s an odd sense of uncomfortableness walking into a store. I can picture how odd it would be if someone came into my store speaking only some strange foreign language, like French or Italian. I would think it was really strange they couldn’t speak my language. I think that’s how they feel here, since Brazil is such a large country and the city is land-locked surrounding the rest of Brazil. I don’t normally feel this way about international cities, but I’m kinda starting to feel like the locals are wondering why the hell some random American who can’t speak Portuguese is hanging around in Brasilia. I relate it to a French tourist traveling to east-bum-f*** Montana – I’m sure they would wonder why someone who doesn’t speak English has even wandered into the country.
The city is very modern so the availability is very good, (except for name-brand clothing). There is an eery sense of security here, whether or not it is true or known is relatively unknown; though the locals seem to express that it is a safe city. Patrick mentioned that maybe that’s why it was built here some 50 odd years ago – it’s away from the rest of civilization – let’s build a city in the middle of nowhere and ask people to come live here and we’ll call it the capital of our country. Sure, makes sense. It’s perfectly methodically planned out unlike any other city in the world. As boring as that makes it, it’s actually quite captivating at the same time. And the building structure is uniquely modern in an outer- space 70’s style kinda way. I’m still trying to get a handle on the city so I’m not quite sure what to make of it just yet.
Patrick and I had a productive first half of the day at the grocery store and then at a nearby mall. We went to some surrounding stores as well and then decided to call it a half-day and do some bookwork at the hotel. We planned on doing some calls/online work as well, but beer got in the way of that plan. I then checked out the gym for all of 20 minutes and got ready for dinner. By recommendation of the hotel, we went to a steak house just around the corner from the hotel. It wasn’t what we would normally consider a steak house, because it was what we would call a Brazilian barbecue. I had never been to one. What better way to experience it than in Brazil itself. The food was all wonderful. The salad bar was incredible in itself. And I tried so many different types of meat which I can’t remember what they are for the life of me. Except I do know that I ate a chicken heart. Yum. Service here at the restaurants is pretty unique as well. Fairly exquisite. They pull your chair out, place your napkin, make sure there are more than enough guys to take your order and get you anything you need. It was a nice dinner. After talking online tonight, I’m exhausted. Goodnight.
The city is very modern so the availability is very good, (except for name-brand clothing). There is an eery sense of security here, whether or not it is true or known is relatively unknown; though the locals seem to express that it is a safe city. Patrick mentioned that maybe that’s why it was built here some 50 odd years ago – it’s away from the rest of civilization – let’s build a city in the middle of nowhere and ask people to come live here and we’ll call it the capital of our country. Sure, makes sense. It’s perfectly methodically planned out unlike any other city in the world. As boring as that makes it, it’s actually quite captivating at the same time. And the building structure is uniquely modern in an outer- space 70’s style kinda way. I’m still trying to get a handle on the city so I’m not quite sure what to make of it just yet.
Patrick and I had a productive first half of the day at the grocery store and then at a nearby mall. We went to some surrounding stores as well and then decided to call it a half-day and do some bookwork at the hotel. We planned on doing some calls/online work as well, but beer got in the way of that plan. I then checked out the gym for all of 20 minutes and got ready for dinner. By recommendation of the hotel, we went to a steak house just around the corner from the hotel. It wasn’t what we would normally consider a steak house, because it was what we would call a Brazilian barbecue. I had never been to one. What better way to experience it than in Brazil itself. The food was all wonderful. The salad bar was incredible in itself. And I tried so many different types of meat which I can’t remember what they are for the life of me. Except I do know that I ate a chicken heart. Yum. Service here at the restaurants is pretty unique as well. Fairly exquisite. They pull your chair out, place your napkin, make sure there are more than enough guys to take your order and get you anything you need. It was a nice dinner. After talking online tonight, I’m exhausted. Goodnight.
Please hold the plane - thanks.
So I land in Brazil, and I have received a text from a co-worker. “Are you in the airport?” I text him back; it’s 9:03 PM and my next flight leaves at 10. I tell him I am worried because I’m cutting it close. Then, I get off the plane and realize that I still need to pick up my baggage. Ugh. Now I’m more worried. But, at least my co-worker tells me that it’s a really simple process. This is good. He keeps reassuring me, even when it approaches 9:24 and there is still no sign of anyone’s bags. Finally, by 9:30 I am bag in hand, run through customs as fast as possible, then on to the transfer counter where I hear them talking about my flight but have no idea what they are saying because it’s all in Portuguese. The girl at the counter hurdles over the desk to put my bag on the scale, but she needs help. I guess it’s heavy. Even though she speaks in Portuguese I can understand her. She tells me to run, so I do. I briefly panic because I don’t know where I’m going but finally, I’ve got it. I approach security and there is a man yelling Brasilia (last call) – Portuguese again. I stick my hand up and yell.. ME!!! ME!!! He sees me and motions me to come up front, I throw my bag through the security belt, don’t even take out the computer or take off my shoes, and then we’re off running ; walky-talky guy leading the way. “Do you have a friend waiting for you?” He says. Oh Patrick, I sure do. Thank goodness for him. We run out the door and he tells me to get into a car parked just outside, and I get a personal taxi to the plane. I thank him and hurry on the plane quickly as the doors seal behind me. Phew!!!
The taxi driver took us on a ride to our hotel. What a dick. We paid twice the amount we should have; good thing it’s not our money! I need to find an ATM tomorrow. My card worked in NY but so far it’s not working here. Our hotel is alright. They call themselves a 5 star but really, it was a 5 star when it opened 50 years ago. It’s old and could use some renovations. Oh well, apparently all the hotels are nearly the same here.
So far, Brasilia is not too exciting. No one speaks English here. It’s a 75+ degree wintertime here, now. No permission problems, so far luckily. After asking permission at one electronic store the guy told me to go outside and come in the employee entrance and sign in there before I was able to take down prices. Not really sure what kind of difference that made, but I did it anyways.
I probably had the most fancy dinner service tonight. Cleaning the table with a little comber, the dinner presented with a cover on top, 3 waiters just to take your order and then stand there staring at you until you order something. Crazy stuff. But, we had 5 beers but didn’t order more than 2. Not sure quite how that happened. OK time for sleep, goodnight.
The taxi driver took us on a ride to our hotel. What a dick. We paid twice the amount we should have; good thing it’s not our money! I need to find an ATM tomorrow. My card worked in NY but so far it’s not working here. Our hotel is alright. They call themselves a 5 star but really, it was a 5 star when it opened 50 years ago. It’s old and could use some renovations. Oh well, apparently all the hotels are nearly the same here.
So far, Brasilia is not too exciting. No one speaks English here. It’s a 75+ degree wintertime here, now. No permission problems, so far luckily. After asking permission at one electronic store the guy told me to go outside and come in the employee entrance and sign in there before I was able to take down prices. Not really sure what kind of difference that made, but I did it anyways.
I probably had the most fancy dinner service tonight. Cleaning the table with a little comber, the dinner presented with a cover on top, 3 waiters just to take your order and then stand there staring at you until you order something. Crazy stuff. But, we had 5 beers but didn’t order more than 2. Not sure quite how that happened. OK time for sleep, goodnight.
10 hour flights are THE BEST!!
I planned for a torturous 10 hour plane ride. I’m really glad that airlines usually overstate the time that we will actually be in the air. Before I knew it, we were already down to 7.5 hours left. But, just checking in took me over an hour. The worst I had seen in a long time. They had no convenient check-in computers like most of the airlines have these days, and it was just taking forever. When I finally got up to the front, I was told my 11.5 kg carryon was too heavy for the airplane, and that only 5 kg would be accepted. WHAT? This is an international flight! Just a laptop computer itself would weigh 5 kg! Even funnier, when I took everything that I possibly could out of my carryon to place in my checked baggage (without taking out the really important stuff) my checked bag weighed over 30 kg, which most airlines usually do have an issue with. But she said nothing. This made no sense to me. I politely but firmly mentioned that I could get the weight down to 8.5 kg, but everything else in that bag absolutely needed to come with me on the flight. She was OK with it. Ironically, I looked out and saw many other people with much larger bags than me. Who knows, maybe it’s because I have a US passport.
This is probably one of the worst international flights I have been on in a while. The seats are absurdly cramped and the entertainment is very limited. The “map” that they offer permanently shows the plane situated near Hamilton, Bermuda. And in many cases, unless I stare at the stewardesses they make no notice of me and skip whatever they are giving out to people, maybe because I am in an aisle seat. I hate aisle seats. I got some food that had almonds in the rice and a nutty-looking dessert. Then I briefly fell asleep and had this very vivid 5 second dream of the plane suddenly taking a dive down and everyone screaming, and then we hit water and I woke up. So much for sleeping the rest of the flight. At least I have some nice people around me and the bathrooms aren’t too bad. I guess just about anything isn’t going to seem that great after my business class flight from France. But, at least somehow the time has disappeared and there is only an hour until we land, and I am caught up on work which is always a great feeling.
This is probably one of the worst international flights I have been on in a while. The seats are absurdly cramped and the entertainment is very limited. The “map” that they offer permanently shows the plane situated near Hamilton, Bermuda. And in many cases, unless I stare at the stewardesses they make no notice of me and skip whatever they are giving out to people, maybe because I am in an aisle seat. I hate aisle seats. I got some food that had almonds in the rice and a nutty-looking dessert. Then I briefly fell asleep and had this very vivid 5 second dream of the plane suddenly taking a dive down and everyone screaming, and then we hit water and I woke up. So much for sleeping the rest of the flight. At least I have some nice people around me and the bathrooms aren’t too bad. I guess just about anything isn’t going to seem that great after my business class flight from France. But, at least somehow the time has disappeared and there is only an hour until we land, and I am caught up on work which is always a great feeling.
Continent hopping: Africa, Europe, USA!!! (for 1 night)
Getting back into the USA is always a breath of fresh air. And, it was nice to arrive and then know I was done for the day, even if I wasn’t going to get back to Boston. Though, it took about an hour for my hotel pickup to actually pick me up. I was already annoyed when I got to the hotel, and then they tell me that my room wasn’t going to be ready for another half hour. This was killing me. I don’t think I have gotten in anywhere on survey thus far where my room wasn’t ready for me as soon as I arrived at the hotel. Really, I just got in from 24 hours of travel and you really don’t have my room ready? BLAH.
The day went by fast, I spent some time catching up on emails and preparing to send the Fed Ex back home. Eventually when it came time, it felt great to take a shower. After my spa time, I had showered but I couldn’t figure out which one was the shampoo so I just rinsed my hair after a greasy head massage. And I smelled. The lovely spa perfumes just weren’t doing the trick anymore, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if I was still in Africa after getting use to the smell of body odor.
I tried on my new lovely African tube top dress I had bought at the market, it was scratchy material, but very pleasant to wear otherwise. Somehow I had forgotten to take my contacts cases with me and it was driving me crazy. I had contacts, solution, but no cases. I meant to stop to grab some at the drugstore now that I was finally in a country that had good availability of products (haha still in work mode) but never got around to it.
I had some really yummy greek food with my sis and her BF Shane that night. We stayed in. It felt good, but after the first half hour and before our food even came I was just exhausted. It was four hours ahead where I had come from and I only got airplane-sleep the night before. By the time I got home and into bed, I only had 5.5 hours to sleep. When my phone alarm woke me in the morning, I shut it off half-consciously, but was very glad to receive a phone call that I had scheduled from the front desk. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure that I absolutely wouldn’t have woken up.
The day went by fast, I spent some time catching up on emails and preparing to send the Fed Ex back home. Eventually when it came time, it felt great to take a shower. After my spa time, I had showered but I couldn’t figure out which one was the shampoo so I just rinsed my hair after a greasy head massage. And I smelled. The lovely spa perfumes just weren’t doing the trick anymore, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if I was still in Africa after getting use to the smell of body odor.
I tried on my new lovely African tube top dress I had bought at the market, it was scratchy material, but very pleasant to wear otherwise. Somehow I had forgotten to take my contacts cases with me and it was driving me crazy. I had contacts, solution, but no cases. I meant to stop to grab some at the drugstore now that I was finally in a country that had good availability of products (haha still in work mode) but never got around to it.
I had some really yummy greek food with my sis and her BF Shane that night. We stayed in. It felt good, but after the first half hour and before our food even came I was just exhausted. It was four hours ahead where I had come from and I only got airplane-sleep the night before. By the time I got home and into bed, I only had 5.5 hours to sleep. When my phone alarm woke me in the morning, I shut it off half-consciously, but was very glad to receive a phone call that I had scheduled from the front desk. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure that I absolutely wouldn’t have woken up.
BUSINESS CLASS baby
I arrived at the airport where I was told that my flight hadn’t even left Dakar yet and it was going from Dakar to Freetown back to Dakar and then to pick us up in Banjul. Excellent. Oh well, I sat around for a little while longer and even had an airport worker (lady) tell me that I was no good cause I wasn’t married, but of course the guy standing next to me immediately obliged. I had someone already tell me that he wanted to talk to me when I was in the terminal waiting for the plane.
Banjul is a very interesting society. It consists of super poor black people, and well –off white people who come to vacation. Many of the white people who come to visit take on “mates” while they are visiting, especially the older women. Because this happens regularly, the guys, and I’m sure girls as well are always driven to do whatever they can to target and get involved with whatever white person of the opposite sex they happen to see. It’s almost a competition of sorts, so it seemed. For many of them, it poses as the only chance at a potentially better life. On the lighter side, it’s pretty hilarious to see huge fat ugly white women with thin young good-looking black men. And there are many of these couples around. This was confirmed, by the way, but 2 sources of both races.
My flight to France wasn’t too bad. Surprisingly, Senegal to France was only 5 hours, and I got to fly on Air France. I felt fairly safe on it especially after the recent crash. Ha, no really. But then even better, from France to the USA, (an 8 hour flight), I was UPGRADED to business class! It was awesome. The chairs even recline all the way down so you can actually sleep fairly comfortably, they give you hot wet cloths to wipe your face and hands, AND they give you a menu of their food for the day, which included foi e gras and roasted duck (you bet I kept the menu). It must have been the best flight ever.
Banjul is a very interesting society. It consists of super poor black people, and well –off white people who come to vacation. Many of the white people who come to visit take on “mates” while they are visiting, especially the older women. Because this happens regularly, the guys, and I’m sure girls as well are always driven to do whatever they can to target and get involved with whatever white person of the opposite sex they happen to see. It’s almost a competition of sorts, so it seemed. For many of them, it poses as the only chance at a potentially better life. On the lighter side, it’s pretty hilarious to see huge fat ugly white women with thin young good-looking black men. And there are many of these couples around. This was confirmed, by the way, but 2 sources of both races.
My flight to France wasn’t too bad. Surprisingly, Senegal to France was only 5 hours, and I got to fly on Air France. I felt fairly safe on it especially after the recent crash. Ha, no really. But then even better, from France to the USA, (an 8 hour flight), I was UPGRADED to business class! It was awesome. The chairs even recline all the way down so you can actually sleep fairly comfortably, they give you hot wet cloths to wipe your face and hands, AND they give you a menu of their food for the day, which included foi e gras and roasted duck (you bet I kept the menu). It must have been the best flight ever.
Spa Day in Africa
Joe left last night. He got really mad the night before over a taxi pickup which they shouldn’t have charged us for, but they did. It was frustrating. Even though the hotel is gorgeous, the customer service sure does leave something to be desired.
Today was my spa day. It was incredible. I got a bath, a full-body exfoliation, and a full-body massage. Amazing. Though, I was really a bit surprised when it was just expected that I would be stripping down to my undies (no bra) for the masseus, showering practically in front of her (cause the scrub needed to come off) and then didn’t realize that my breasts were included when putting on the full-body scrub. It was a bit awkward at first until I started getting comfortable with my nakedness. It was a bit of a liberating feeling. I didn’t want to leave the spa.
I said bye to my spa friend. His name is Mila. I’m sure he just wanted a shot at a foreign white chick, but he was a nice guy who took a chance at talking to me while I was at the gym and he was working (the workers were not allowed to speak to guests aside from cheerful hellos). He told me working there, they were promised “good luck and sprits”, tips from the guests, and decent money. He saw none of this. I gave him my business card so that he could have my email and write. I doubt I’ll hear from him.
Now, I had to leave the spa. But before I left, I had a quick bite at the hotel. The restaurant that I ate in for lunch was directly on the beach, practically. There was a guy who was watching me, staring while I ate lunch, from the beach. He psssssssssssst me (which is what they do in Africa to get anyone’s attention), said hi, repeatedly, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore and gave in and said hi back. He didn’t say much else aside from staring most of the time, and then he came up to one more time again and said hi. Then, he said he was going home, so he wanted to say bye. It was so bizarre. I wanted to give him my french-fries or something, but I didn’t think it would be socially acceptable to feed a beachperson through the holes in the restaurant. He was wearing tattered clothing and was alone. I felt so awkward. Such a strange place, Gambia is. Such a vast disparity, it’s just a mixture of well-off and extremely poor. I just felt wrong sitting there in my perfect little world, in a gorgeous picturesque hotel right above/next to him, eating a burger he couldn’t afford and getting first class service while he sat right outside probably wondering what it was like to be me. As much as I loved Gambia for how well they catered to tourists, it really was a bit of a psychologically messed up experience for me.
Also, I had a tough taxi ride. Joe had warned me a little bit. Our quiet taxi driver we had used all week asked us for a) an invitation letter to come to the US, or b) help with money so that he could buy his own taxi and stop renting it daily from some other guy for the price that he normally got on a good day, especially in the rainy season. Ugh, this was tough, and once again, sad. I tried to explain, for US standards I really don’t have much money – which I’m sure he found hard to believe after knowing which hotel we stayed in and what kind of meals we ate every day.
Today was my spa day. It was incredible. I got a bath, a full-body exfoliation, and a full-body massage. Amazing. Though, I was really a bit surprised when it was just expected that I would be stripping down to my undies (no bra) for the masseus, showering practically in front of her (cause the scrub needed to come off) and then didn’t realize that my breasts were included when putting on the full-body scrub. It was a bit awkward at first until I started getting comfortable with my nakedness. It was a bit of a liberating feeling. I didn’t want to leave the spa.
I said bye to my spa friend. His name is Mila. I’m sure he just wanted a shot at a foreign white chick, but he was a nice guy who took a chance at talking to me while I was at the gym and he was working (the workers were not allowed to speak to guests aside from cheerful hellos). He told me working there, they were promised “good luck and sprits”, tips from the guests, and decent money. He saw none of this. I gave him my business card so that he could have my email and write. I doubt I’ll hear from him.
Now, I had to leave the spa. But before I left, I had a quick bite at the hotel. The restaurant that I ate in for lunch was directly on the beach, practically. There was a guy who was watching me, staring while I ate lunch, from the beach. He psssssssssssst me (which is what they do in Africa to get anyone’s attention), said hi, repeatedly, and I finally couldn’t take it anymore and gave in and said hi back. He didn’t say much else aside from staring most of the time, and then he came up to one more time again and said hi. Then, he said he was going home, so he wanted to say bye. It was so bizarre. I wanted to give him my french-fries or something, but I didn’t think it would be socially acceptable to feed a beachperson through the holes in the restaurant. He was wearing tattered clothing and was alone. I felt so awkward. Such a strange place, Gambia is. Such a vast disparity, it’s just a mixture of well-off and extremely poor. I just felt wrong sitting there in my perfect little world, in a gorgeous picturesque hotel right above/next to him, eating a burger he couldn’t afford and getting first class service while he sat right outside probably wondering what it was like to be me. As much as I loved Gambia for how well they catered to tourists, it really was a bit of a psychologically messed up experience for me.
Also, I had a tough taxi ride. Joe had warned me a little bit. Our quiet taxi driver we had used all week asked us for a) an invitation letter to come to the US, or b) help with money so that he could buy his own taxi and stop renting it daily from some other guy for the price that he normally got on a good day, especially in the rainy season. Ugh, this was tough, and once again, sad. I tried to explain, for US standards I really don’t have much money – which I’m sure he found hard to believe after knowing which hotel we stayed in and what kind of meals we ate every day.
If you give, they will take
This turned out to be a fun but pain in the ass trip. We negotiated a price of $100 USD each for me and Joe for the day; this was to include the ferry price, boat price, lunch, and any museum entrances. The guy that we negotiated the price with wasn’t the one who ended up picking us up. We had to politely but firmly tell him that the price we paid included the museum price, included lunch, included the ferry trip, no we were not going to accept joining a large tour group, etc. etc. It was annoying. That’s what the people here are like. More and more money, if you give, they will take. We were suppose to take the 8 am ferry, but our tourguide came back to tell us he couldn’t get on this ferry and it might be another 2-3 hours before we could get on. Not OK. So he parked his car and we went across. We were going to join a large tour. Also not OK. We ended up hiring a driver to take us to the place where we would take a boat, and this was NOT going to be extra money from us. OK. It went on and on from there, and then all the extra people who come in and want tips – other drivers, boat captain, entertainer – Joe refused to pay them and told them to see our tourguide if they want any money from us (it would come out of our already negotiated price).
Aside from that, the trip was pretty cool – the best part, and the part that took up the most time, was the jeep ride through the back country in Gambia – through all the little villages. The children see white people and are taught to refer to them as “2 bob” - which apparently represents the 2 pence coin that the people from the UK use to throw at the African people years and years ago when they would come to visit. As soon as the children see a vehicle coming from way down the road, they start running towards the road from everywhere – literally, I have no idea where they came from – their little huts, working in the fields, etc. Following 2 bob, they would yell “sweets!” In English. I gave in. This was nothing short but a racist form of entertainment, as I saw it – maybe racist on both sides of the spectrum, but I bought candy to give to the children and really felt satisfied being the Mother Theresa of candy for the day. Seeing how excited they became to see a butterscotch candy was intriguing, sad, motivating and beautiful– all at the same time. If they didn’t get candy from you right away, they would sprint after the car. Literally, until they couldn’t keep up any longer. Though, while I was roaming through the absolutely beautiful countryside, I wondered how bad it could really be. It would be a simple, probably fairly short life – but If you didn’t know any better, life would be so simple. You would grow what you eat, fetch water everyday, and enjoy the company of your neighbors and family. Maybe these people wouldn’t really like/adapt well to our way of living.
After getting back from our excursion, and the guide offering me a back massage (creepy), we took a really nice dip in the pool as the sun was getting low. Our resort really was eye candy. Absolutely beautiful. After a quick dinner, we met up with our expat friend we had met who, by the way, just through some small bits of information helped us finish a half-day of the information we needed to collect for our survey over a lunchtime meeting. It was incredible. We had decided to meet him out for beers tonight. We went bar hopping (his well-dressed driver drove us everywhere in a really nice SUV) to about 5 or 6 different expat bars which I had no idea existed. I sang karaoke for the first time ever by myself; the Monkeys. I only did it cause it was the monkeys. Beer after beer after beer came my way, and I only paid for one round. We met up with expat’s friends (expat’s name is Gary) and in the last bar we ended up with talking to a hooker for about 20 minutes. It was foggy, but Joe was my husband and Gary was my father and some funny, jokingly inappropriate things were said here and there which made us all laugh hysterically. Gary thought it would be entertaining to talk to her, and it sure was. We made a run for it when she went to the bathroom.
That night I woke up numerous times thinking I was going to be sick. I think this was my first beer hangover ever. The next day I didn’t get up until 2 pm. My head hurt so much, and I was still feeling really nauseas. I took some Tylenol and felt better, but that didn’t stop me from seriously needing a nap later in the evening. It was all better when Joe and I split 3 mangos we had bought at the local market. I had never tasted mango so sweet.
Aside from that, the trip was pretty cool – the best part, and the part that took up the most time, was the jeep ride through the back country in Gambia – through all the little villages. The children see white people and are taught to refer to them as “2 bob” - which apparently represents the 2 pence coin that the people from the UK use to throw at the African people years and years ago when they would come to visit. As soon as the children see a vehicle coming from way down the road, they start running towards the road from everywhere – literally, I have no idea where they came from – their little huts, working in the fields, etc. Following 2 bob, they would yell “sweets!” In English. I gave in. This was nothing short but a racist form of entertainment, as I saw it – maybe racist on both sides of the spectrum, but I bought candy to give to the children and really felt satisfied being the Mother Theresa of candy for the day. Seeing how excited they became to see a butterscotch candy was intriguing, sad, motivating and beautiful– all at the same time. If they didn’t get candy from you right away, they would sprint after the car. Literally, until they couldn’t keep up any longer. Though, while I was roaming through the absolutely beautiful countryside, I wondered how bad it could really be. It would be a simple, probably fairly short life – but If you didn’t know any better, life would be so simple. You would grow what you eat, fetch water everyday, and enjoy the company of your neighbors and family. Maybe these people wouldn’t really like/adapt well to our way of living.
After getting back from our excursion, and the guide offering me a back massage (creepy), we took a really nice dip in the pool as the sun was getting low. Our resort really was eye candy. Absolutely beautiful. After a quick dinner, we met up with our expat friend we had met who, by the way, just through some small bits of information helped us finish a half-day of the information we needed to collect for our survey over a lunchtime meeting. It was incredible. We had decided to meet him out for beers tonight. We went bar hopping (his well-dressed driver drove us everywhere in a really nice SUV) to about 5 or 6 different expat bars which I had no idea existed. I sang karaoke for the first time ever by myself; the Monkeys. I only did it cause it was the monkeys. Beer after beer after beer came my way, and I only paid for one round. We met up with expat’s friends (expat’s name is Gary) and in the last bar we ended up with talking to a hooker for about 20 minutes. It was foggy, but Joe was my husband and Gary was my father and some funny, jokingly inappropriate things were said here and there which made us all laugh hysterically. Gary thought it would be entertaining to talk to her, and it sure was. We made a run for it when she went to the bathroom.
That night I woke up numerous times thinking I was going to be sick. I think this was my first beer hangover ever. The next day I didn’t get up until 2 pm. My head hurt so much, and I was still feeling really nauseas. I took some Tylenol and felt better, but that didn’t stop me from seriously needing a nap later in the evening. It was all better when Joe and I split 3 mangos we had bought at the local market. I had never tasted mango so sweet.
Lions, tigers and bears OH MY!
We got the chance to do some super-fun excursions while we were in Gambia. First, we went to a park that kept the crocodiles so well-fed and fat that you could pet them, sit on them, feel their cold bellies, whatever. It was intriguing to see the big crocodiles and their little babies. We tried to be careful not to go too closely to the babies because Mom might attack us for another reason besides food.
We also visited a fish market and a cattle-raising park. The fish market was very interesting; the boats came in and they had special places to smoke the fish, dry the fish, whatever it was they needed to do with it. But, there were flies everywhere swarming on the fish. I was very glad I didn’t have any sandals on. I would like to think I hadn’t eaten any of that this week, but I’m sure that I had. At the cattle park, we saw all of them – it was a bit sad. Most of them were tied up, but appeared to be fed fairly well for the most part. This was my first encounter with a little child who asked for sweets. I didn’t know what she was saying at first, I thought she was saying I was sweet, but I was sad to tell her that I didn’t have any once I figured it out. This little girl had a little baby on her back. Then she asked if she could be my friend. Of course, but I’m not sure what she means by that, because I wasn’t going to be back.
From the cattle place we went to another really neat park area to see animals. There was a crocodile lake here too, but you couldn’t touch the crocs here! We didn’t see any though. We did see plenty of monkeys though which was quite entertaining, especially the ones holding the little babies. It’s amazing how much monkeys act like humans. Also as we were walking through the park, a python passed directly in front of us! This was pretty freaky. It was gone before we knew what was happening, but man was it a huge snake. I was impressed. There were lots of beautiful birds here as well. We eventually got to a little park area with caged animals. Local baboons had been caged because of their aggressive behavior towards humans. At one point I apparently got too close to a small one who was reaching his hand through the fence to get some grass, and the big baboon came running at me on the other side of the cage and lept at the cage and then started shaking it furiously. I guess they didn’t like me! I did feed them some grass which they fought over through the holes in the fence that they stuck their hands through. I also noticed them sitting there and picking bugs from each others’ mains. It was quite entertaining. In another area, they housed animals that were sick for some reason which they kept for observation until they got better. There were a couple monkeys, a ginormous tortoise, and a really impressive looking bird, possibly a stork. In another fenced area, there were hyenas. The ones we could see were all sleeping, but they were huge beasts/dogs. I wouldn’t want to mess with one of those.
From this park we went to Lamin lodge which is another landmark for Gambia. It was a rickety old place, but you could rent a boat for an hour and go around and see the wildlife, and the oysters growing in the water. We took the boatride after annoyingly talking down another local scam-artist from the ridiculous take-advantage-of-tourists price of 1500 dalasi which is 60 USD/hr. We laughed and started walking away, but eventually talked him down to the equivalent of $12 USD for the hour which was still probably too much, but we got the best boat that he had. After talking about how we heard there was a lot of pot in the country, our guide ended up taking out his “Bob Marley” and passing around the joint with his two other guide-friends. Two joints. Along the way we noticed some really beautiful, very very large birds. It was a nice way to end a wonderful day.
After this, we got Indian food and then I went home and passed out at 9 am, and didn’t wake up the next day until 7 am, last minute because we had a guide picking us up to take us on another full-day excursion. I was still exhausted when I woke up.
We also visited a fish market and a cattle-raising park. The fish market was very interesting; the boats came in and they had special places to smoke the fish, dry the fish, whatever it was they needed to do with it. But, there were flies everywhere swarming on the fish. I was very glad I didn’t have any sandals on. I would like to think I hadn’t eaten any of that this week, but I’m sure that I had. At the cattle park, we saw all of them – it was a bit sad. Most of them were tied up, but appeared to be fed fairly well for the most part. This was my first encounter with a little child who asked for sweets. I didn’t know what she was saying at first, I thought she was saying I was sweet, but I was sad to tell her that I didn’t have any once I figured it out. This little girl had a little baby on her back. Then she asked if she could be my friend. Of course, but I’m not sure what she means by that, because I wasn’t going to be back.
From the cattle place we went to another really neat park area to see animals. There was a crocodile lake here too, but you couldn’t touch the crocs here! We didn’t see any though. We did see plenty of monkeys though which was quite entertaining, especially the ones holding the little babies. It’s amazing how much monkeys act like humans. Also as we were walking through the park, a python passed directly in front of us! This was pretty freaky. It was gone before we knew what was happening, but man was it a huge snake. I was impressed. There were lots of beautiful birds here as well. We eventually got to a little park area with caged animals. Local baboons had been caged because of their aggressive behavior towards humans. At one point I apparently got too close to a small one who was reaching his hand through the fence to get some grass, and the big baboon came running at me on the other side of the cage and lept at the cage and then started shaking it furiously. I guess they didn’t like me! I did feed them some grass which they fought over through the holes in the fence that they stuck their hands through. I also noticed them sitting there and picking bugs from each others’ mains. It was quite entertaining. In another area, they housed animals that were sick for some reason which they kept for observation until they got better. There were a couple monkeys, a ginormous tortoise, and a really impressive looking bird, possibly a stork. In another fenced area, there were hyenas. The ones we could see were all sleeping, but they were huge beasts/dogs. I wouldn’t want to mess with one of those.
From this park we went to Lamin lodge which is another landmark for Gambia. It was a rickety old place, but you could rent a boat for an hour and go around and see the wildlife, and the oysters growing in the water. We took the boatride after annoyingly talking down another local scam-artist from the ridiculous take-advantage-of-tourists price of 1500 dalasi which is 60 USD/hr. We laughed and started walking away, but eventually talked him down to the equivalent of $12 USD for the hour which was still probably too much, but we got the best boat that he had. After talking about how we heard there was a lot of pot in the country, our guide ended up taking out his “Bob Marley” and passing around the joint with his two other guide-friends. Two joints. Along the way we noticed some really beautiful, very very large birds. It was a nice way to end a wonderful day.
After this, we got Indian food and then I went home and passed out at 9 am, and didn’t wake up the next day until 7 am, last minute because we had a guide picking us up to take us on another full-day excursion. I was still exhausted when I woke up.
It's nice to be nice. It's nice to be good.
I asked the driver to take me to the place where I can find out about satellite TV, and he takes me to the television headquarters of Gambia and I try to explain to the workers what I am trying to do. Before I know it, one of the guards is knocking on the padded door of the director of the television station and I am introduced to him. I didn’t really know what to say, but I said I was doing some research for the European Union and wanted to know prices for satellite television. What he told me was that it wasn’t finished yet (though I’m sure he had absolutely no idea what I was really looking for) and then he gave me some other sort of technical information and a sheet with all the satellite coordinations, etc. which I completely couldn’t understand. So I said thank you! And walked out cause I had no idea what to say.
The longer I am here in Gambia, the more I realize what a tourist-driven society this is. The people will do anything they can to get money from the tourists. This creates a major disparity. People like me and Joe feel bad for people, but after getting ripped off we are very hesitant about anyone pulling a fast one, and when and who we give our money out to. For example, when we arrive at Senegambia to use the internet, we know where the internet is, but we have someone all up for welcoming us and asking where we are going and then holding open the door for us as we walk into the internet café. Then he just hangs around expecting to be paid. “Can I help you?” Joe says. He finally leaves after realizing he’s not going to get any more money from me. Also another time, after we left for the café we went to get some lunch, and then I needed to exchange some currency so that I could pay the hotel bill. It starts pouring outside the second we leave the restaurant. We hop into another one to get a drink while we wait for the rain to die down. Joe decides to ask if they can change money at the restaurant. So they say yes, and we tell them the exchange rate we want which is perfectly do-able. After some research, they come back and tell us the only exchange rate available is 25 which is bullshit. (Clearly they are passively trying to rip us off). Here, you can trust someone with your $100 bill. They won’t steal from you. But it’s not going to prevent them from trying to honestly rip you off. That’s what it is. The people here will honestly rip you off. As long as you know one way or another what’s going on, it’s not stealing to them. If you’re naïve you’ll get played, otherwise they will leave you alone and apologize to the nines if you are upset about something. We walked by one guy on the street who very nicely, as they do, said hi to me and Joe and asked if we needed any help, or something like that. Joe instinctively replied with “no thanks”. Man: Why not, man? Joe: Because we just don’t want to be haggled. Man: It’s nice to be nice, man. It’s nice to be good. That’s what they say here. All this happened before we got a 5 dalasi car ride to our hotel for 25 and the taxi driver wanted to drop us at the street until Joe said fine. I’m going to get out here and only pay you 10 unless you drive into the hotel. The guy grudgingly drove us into the hotel, finally. It’s tiring, all the haggling. It sure is.
They like to call people Boss here. I’m sure it’s another way to make people feel important and have them give you money. I was Boss Lady. Joe was Boss Man. And to everyone’s perspective, and I’m sure it was better this way especially after my experience being alone here at the airport which I will talk about later, we were married.
The longer I am here in Gambia, the more I realize what a tourist-driven society this is. The people will do anything they can to get money from the tourists. This creates a major disparity. People like me and Joe feel bad for people, but after getting ripped off we are very hesitant about anyone pulling a fast one, and when and who we give our money out to. For example, when we arrive at Senegambia to use the internet, we know where the internet is, but we have someone all up for welcoming us and asking where we are going and then holding open the door for us as we walk into the internet café. Then he just hangs around expecting to be paid. “Can I help you?” Joe says. He finally leaves after realizing he’s not going to get any more money from me. Also another time, after we left for the café we went to get some lunch, and then I needed to exchange some currency so that I could pay the hotel bill. It starts pouring outside the second we leave the restaurant. We hop into another one to get a drink while we wait for the rain to die down. Joe decides to ask if they can change money at the restaurant. So they say yes, and we tell them the exchange rate we want which is perfectly do-able. After some research, they come back and tell us the only exchange rate available is 25 which is bullshit. (Clearly they are passively trying to rip us off). Here, you can trust someone with your $100 bill. They won’t steal from you. But it’s not going to prevent them from trying to honestly rip you off. That’s what it is. The people here will honestly rip you off. As long as you know one way or another what’s going on, it’s not stealing to them. If you’re naïve you’ll get played, otherwise they will leave you alone and apologize to the nines if you are upset about something. We walked by one guy on the street who very nicely, as they do, said hi to me and Joe and asked if we needed any help, or something like that. Joe instinctively replied with “no thanks”. Man: Why not, man? Joe: Because we just don’t want to be haggled. Man: It’s nice to be nice, man. It’s nice to be good. That’s what they say here. All this happened before we got a 5 dalasi car ride to our hotel for 25 and the taxi driver wanted to drop us at the street until Joe said fine. I’m going to get out here and only pay you 10 unless you drive into the hotel. The guy grudgingly drove us into the hotel, finally. It’s tiring, all the haggling. It sure is.
They like to call people Boss here. I’m sure it’s another way to make people feel important and have them give you money. I was Boss Lady. Joe was Boss Man. And to everyone’s perspective, and I’m sure it was better this way especially after my experience being alone here at the airport which I will talk about later, we were married.
There are no free lunches, or are there....
Joe is doing everything he can to prove that there ARE actually old white women who come to The Gambia to find young black men. It is really quite amusing. We have an older white guy staying next to us who came out of his room with a really young black girl. He looked at Joe and Joe gave him the head nod, in which case the guy quickly turned around and walked away. Joe couldn’t wait to come tell me.
I had my first meeting with the EU today. It went really well; it was a young woman who really didn’t have many question, we just ended up asking her a ton. It was very helpful for us and we finished in an hour.
Breezed through 3 full grocery stores today! That’s almost like the survey is half over. Wahoo! While in one of the grocery stores, 4 little girls in uniform came up to me and touched my hand one at a time, while I was bent down. It was such a strange thing, but so cute. I think that maybe it is a Muslim tradition? A few other Muslim girls asked me for a donation to repair furniture at their school (first touching my right hand) and I gave them 25 dalasi which is like 1 USD. But, this is a lot of money to them. They looked at each other wide-eyed and kept watching me and saying “bye bye!” as I went into the cab.
Muslim is the primary religion here, so I have been trying to remember to use my right hand for everything, but it’s tough.
I have killed at least 20 bugs tonight and have captured 3 crickets the size of golf balls in my room. My room Is gorgeous but the amount of bugs is killing me. I got a weird bite on my leg today and it really puffed up. No idea what it is, but it kinda freaked me out. It rains all the time, and my room is located with the door right outside my room so there are bugs constantly getting in!
We went into a grocery store today, asked permission, and everything was fine. The manager told me later that he had seen me at my hotel the night before (I was standing outside my room and just waved at a couple guys walking by). Well, he recognized me so he asked, do you like me? And I was like… uhhhhh, and THEN he said, want me to come to your hotel? And then I was really like… uhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Sooo akward. I tried to play it off like I was here with Joe. There are so many Indian people here. I am a bit surprised by this. For some strange reason, whenever I catch someone staring at me it’s always an Indian person. Creepy. So then, grocery store manager man tracked me down via the front desk and CALLED me, once at 1130 at night to see what I was doing, and if I wanted to get together sometime while I was there, and I said I would let him know if I had any time. I was hoping not to hear from him again. But then, he called me AGAIN the last night before I left, as 12 am and asked if he could come to my room. Please. Just for 10 minutes. Ummm hello, NOOOOO. So sketch. I double locked my doors that night.
Here, everyone sounds like a Jamaican! Well, I think they do. The official language here is English but all the other Gambians speak other languages amongst themselves, these are the tribal languages. There are about 4 major ones.
I saw a sign that said, “buy this cell phone plan, win 3 free tractors!” That kinda sounds like the sign I saw in spain – “buy this cell phone plan, get a ham leg for free!”
While I was in a car dealership today, a girl probably my age at the Xerox counter says to me through the window: “Hi, what’s your name? You look beautiful I like you.” Such a strange, yet flattering thing to hear from someone!
Instead of pigs roaming the streets, it’s goats. Lots and lots of them in herds running all over the place, including in the middle of the main streets. There are many stray dogs here as well, and I have seen some cats. Streets are much better quality here than in Bissau, there is actually one main paved road of very good quality.
People are also very friendly here too, though they are more use to tourists. The young girls seem much more in awe of me here than they were in Bissau. It sure is a strange combination here of tourism and dirt poor, while Bissau is strictly just dirt poor.
The second you say hello, someone will respond with a “how are you today?” This type of greeting is just as important is a: “What’s your name?” I really wish everyone in the world was as friendly as they are in this part of the world. Even in crowded streets, I will frequently get a hello from the random street vendor, person out on a stroll, etc.
Speaking of numerous Indian people, we went to a recommended Indian restaurant today for lunch and it was definitely up there for the best Indian food I have ever eaten (Jenn, I guess you gotta make it here some day!) Apparently the Indian guy also owns a Chinese restaurant in our area – (where the hotel is). But we asked for the bill, twice. After the 2nd time, the two guys were in conversation and kept talking, talking talking for another 10 minutes before giving us the bill. Though, I made it back here again for dinner (Joe insisted) and I had a close call with nuts. I ordered Nann that did not claim to have nuts, but I noticed the little green pistachios and did try a little in disbelieve before quickly chewing on some benedryl (that stuff is amazing). Joe got upset, especially when the manager mentioned that the menu said there were nuts when there really was no mention of nuts on the menu for this item, so we got our dinner for free.
Meals here at the hotel are excellent. For dinner, you get a complimentary appetizer courtesy of the chef. Then your meal. Then they provide you with delicious complimentary tea and cookies. It’s amazing. And for breakfast, (which is ALL complimentary, if you are a guest at the hotel), you automatically get fresh juice, coffee/tea, fruit cup and a huge basket with pastries and jam/butter. THEN, you get a menu of breakfast options (really, really good stuff) which is still all for free if you are a hotel guest. (Do you really want to eat more after all you have already been served?) And, it’s quite fancy; one person will place your napkin on your lap, the next will give you coffee, then someone will give you juice, someone else will provide you with the menu – one after the other after the other. Cool experience! If only you could get rid of all the bugs…..
Sleeping with towels under my door tonight. Goodluck to me!
I had my first meeting with the EU today. It went really well; it was a young woman who really didn’t have many question, we just ended up asking her a ton. It was very helpful for us and we finished in an hour.
Breezed through 3 full grocery stores today! That’s almost like the survey is half over. Wahoo! While in one of the grocery stores, 4 little girls in uniform came up to me and touched my hand one at a time, while I was bent down. It was such a strange thing, but so cute. I think that maybe it is a Muslim tradition? A few other Muslim girls asked me for a donation to repair furniture at their school (first touching my right hand) and I gave them 25 dalasi which is like 1 USD. But, this is a lot of money to them. They looked at each other wide-eyed and kept watching me and saying “bye bye!” as I went into the cab.
Muslim is the primary religion here, so I have been trying to remember to use my right hand for everything, but it’s tough.
I have killed at least 20 bugs tonight and have captured 3 crickets the size of golf balls in my room. My room Is gorgeous but the amount of bugs is killing me. I got a weird bite on my leg today and it really puffed up. No idea what it is, but it kinda freaked me out. It rains all the time, and my room is located with the door right outside my room so there are bugs constantly getting in!
We went into a grocery store today, asked permission, and everything was fine. The manager told me later that he had seen me at my hotel the night before (I was standing outside my room and just waved at a couple guys walking by). Well, he recognized me so he asked, do you like me? And I was like… uhhhhh, and THEN he said, want me to come to your hotel? And then I was really like… uhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Sooo akward. I tried to play it off like I was here with Joe. There are so many Indian people here. I am a bit surprised by this. For some strange reason, whenever I catch someone staring at me it’s always an Indian person. Creepy. So then, grocery store manager man tracked me down via the front desk and CALLED me, once at 1130 at night to see what I was doing, and if I wanted to get together sometime while I was there, and I said I would let him know if I had any time. I was hoping not to hear from him again. But then, he called me AGAIN the last night before I left, as 12 am and asked if he could come to my room. Please. Just for 10 minutes. Ummm hello, NOOOOO. So sketch. I double locked my doors that night.
Here, everyone sounds like a Jamaican! Well, I think they do. The official language here is English but all the other Gambians speak other languages amongst themselves, these are the tribal languages. There are about 4 major ones.
I saw a sign that said, “buy this cell phone plan, win 3 free tractors!” That kinda sounds like the sign I saw in spain – “buy this cell phone plan, get a ham leg for free!”
While I was in a car dealership today, a girl probably my age at the Xerox counter says to me through the window: “Hi, what’s your name? You look beautiful I like you.” Such a strange, yet flattering thing to hear from someone!
Instead of pigs roaming the streets, it’s goats. Lots and lots of them in herds running all over the place, including in the middle of the main streets. There are many stray dogs here as well, and I have seen some cats. Streets are much better quality here than in Bissau, there is actually one main paved road of very good quality.
People are also very friendly here too, though they are more use to tourists. The young girls seem much more in awe of me here than they were in Bissau. It sure is a strange combination here of tourism and dirt poor, while Bissau is strictly just dirt poor.
The second you say hello, someone will respond with a “how are you today?” This type of greeting is just as important is a: “What’s your name?” I really wish everyone in the world was as friendly as they are in this part of the world. Even in crowded streets, I will frequently get a hello from the random street vendor, person out on a stroll, etc.
Speaking of numerous Indian people, we went to a recommended Indian restaurant today for lunch and it was definitely up there for the best Indian food I have ever eaten (Jenn, I guess you gotta make it here some day!) Apparently the Indian guy also owns a Chinese restaurant in our area – (where the hotel is). But we asked for the bill, twice. After the 2nd time, the two guys were in conversation and kept talking, talking talking for another 10 minutes before giving us the bill. Though, I made it back here again for dinner (Joe insisted) and I had a close call with nuts. I ordered Nann that did not claim to have nuts, but I noticed the little green pistachios and did try a little in disbelieve before quickly chewing on some benedryl (that stuff is amazing). Joe got upset, especially when the manager mentioned that the menu said there were nuts when there really was no mention of nuts on the menu for this item, so we got our dinner for free.
Meals here at the hotel are excellent. For dinner, you get a complimentary appetizer courtesy of the chef. Then your meal. Then they provide you with delicious complimentary tea and cookies. It’s amazing. And for breakfast, (which is ALL complimentary, if you are a guest at the hotel), you automatically get fresh juice, coffee/tea, fruit cup and a huge basket with pastries and jam/butter. THEN, you get a menu of breakfast options (really, really good stuff) which is still all for free if you are a hotel guest. (Do you really want to eat more after all you have already been served?) And, it’s quite fancy; one person will place your napkin on your lap, the next will give you coffee, then someone will give you juice, someone else will provide you with the menu – one after the other after the other. Cool experience! If only you could get rid of all the bugs…..
Sleeping with towels under my door tonight. Goodluck to me!
Thank God for Brussels airlines
Joe and I kinda lost out on our day in Dakar. We got all ready to go early, (by 9 am, I was the slowpoke today, for a change! – really, I was on time all the other days!) and I met Joe in his room. Somehow, we both ended up passing out for over a good hour, and then we decided to head out, but we were worried about time now, (we had wanted to see Goree Island). We made it to the dock (we were already SO sick of all the people haggling haggling haggling for this that and every other thing, it was so frustrating). The ferry had just left and now we were out of luck to get there and back in a reasonable time. We went all the way back to the hotel and found out how nice the hotel atmosphere really was; there was outdoor seating by a pool overlooking the ocean and it was lovely and relaxing. We had a 2 hour lunch there before our flight, why didn’t we just come here in the first place!
The flight was lovely. I really wasn’t even afraid (maybe because it was only 25 minutes??) AND we were on Brussels airlines. The hotel pickup never made it to the airport and we ended up jumping in a car with a couple more hagglers which I was a little skeptical about; but we made it to this simply gorgeous hotel in the middle of poverty-stricken Gambia. It’s like heaven here, and we can even eat normal food like fruits and vegetables! It’s overlooking the beach and has 9 swimming pools and amazing ambience. I feel like I really should be here on a hot romantic getaway; not with a co-worker who just got married!
The flight was lovely. I really wasn’t even afraid (maybe because it was only 25 minutes??) AND we were on Brussels airlines. The hotel pickup never made it to the airport and we ended up jumping in a car with a couple more hagglers which I was a little skeptical about; but we made it to this simply gorgeous hotel in the middle of poverty-stricken Gambia. It’s like heaven here, and we can even eat normal food like fruits and vegetables! It’s overlooking the beach and has 9 swimming pools and amazing ambience. I feel like I really should be here on a hot romantic getaway; not with a co-worker who just got married!
And off to Dakar...
We get up and packed and I ask Mamadu if he’s hungry and wants to eat something. “No, airport” he says – clearly he’s concerned about my ticket that I couldn’t get confirmed yesterday. We travel on our way and he says “TACV” (which means the airline office, not at the airport) but I inform him that I had found our ticket. So, we head to the airport to check in. Unlike yesterday, I have no problem checking in at all, I have my boarding pass in hand (paper ticket), but Joe is having problems. He doesn’t have anything on him proving his ticket because it was a paper ticket. He eventually gets by, but we were informed that we should have known to print out our ticket beforehand because the Bissau airport doesn’t have computers, so they can’t look up the electronic ticket via a passport, for example. Yes, this place is really THAT poor! Finally we check in and head to get breakfast. We get gypped for nearly 20 USD but are quickly compensated when we bring it up to management. It was a frustrating morning. Joe had even started to lose his cool from time to time but I tried to remind him that TIA and you have to just go along with it. But, on the way to the airport we had to take a shortcut due to traffic through the villages and we got to see a bunch of naked children playing in the rain and mud. That was quite amusing.
We got safely into Dakar today and made sure to be aware of our surroundings and anyone who could possibly try to con us, again. Countless guys asked to help us “why not, why not, no problem, I work at the airport”. One guy even said “welcome, welcome, welcome” over and over to Joe and then actually asked for a tip before we got into the taxi. Priceless. Once we got settled I was determined to go to the French Cultural Institute for dinner which a co-worker who had studied in Dakar had recommended to me. Everything was great except for the beef that Joe had ordered, it was lined with cartilage and fat. I had also ordered beef (steak) and it was delicious – melt in your mouth delicious, probably one of the best steaks I had ever eaten! On our way to the restaurant, the put-put taxi (which you could see into the engine from the seats, by the way) took us to many of the popular tourist attractions, but really they were quite wonderful. The coastline was very pretty, so we stopped for many pictures. We went to the lighthouse, and to get some pictures of a beautiful mosque. The city looks very modern, and I can see how there can be many wonderful things to do here. It was a world of a difference from Guinea Bissau. Joe and I actually went a little overboard because the food was actually edible! It was very exciting to know you could actually eat something other than spaghetti and possibly still live. Went home and talked to Mom tonight, it was great to hear from her. More tomorrow, from Banjul!
We got safely into Dakar today and made sure to be aware of our surroundings and anyone who could possibly try to con us, again. Countless guys asked to help us “why not, why not, no problem, I work at the airport”. One guy even said “welcome, welcome, welcome” over and over to Joe and then actually asked for a tip before we got into the taxi. Priceless. Once we got settled I was determined to go to the French Cultural Institute for dinner which a co-worker who had studied in Dakar had recommended to me. Everything was great except for the beef that Joe had ordered, it was lined with cartilage and fat. I had also ordered beef (steak) and it was delicious – melt in your mouth delicious, probably one of the best steaks I had ever eaten! On our way to the restaurant, the put-put taxi (which you could see into the engine from the seats, by the way) took us to many of the popular tourist attractions, but really they were quite wonderful. The coastline was very pretty, so we stopped for many pictures. We went to the lighthouse, and to get some pictures of a beautiful mosque. The city looks very modern, and I can see how there can be many wonderful things to do here. It was a world of a difference from Guinea Bissau. Joe and I actually went a little overboard because the food was actually edible! It was very exciting to know you could actually eat something other than spaghetti and possibly still live. Went home and talked to Mom tonight, it was great to hear from her. More tomorrow, from Banjul!
Branco
Another incredible day, of course. We head straight to Gashon’s house and he has things to do, so we plan to meet him for lunch at 1 pm. Meanwhile, we head to the market and find all sorts of cool African treasures. The sellers are trying to give us rip-off prices but Mamadu stands his ground and fights for us over and over, amongst his own people! It was amazing. He fought one big battle with some guy who he thought was really ripping me off; I was getting worried at one point that there were even going to possibly be punches thrown. Joe and I have gained a ton of respect for this guy over the past week. He is genuine and has worked very hard for both of us.
We head to the restaurant and Gashon shows up, pays for our drinks we had started while waiting for him, and then we are off to another restaurant. We walk in and there are very large ladies in their typical African dresses and hair covers cooking home-made meals, for the restaurant that we walk into. There is no menu. We all get the same food, and it’s very good. Typical Senegalese food. Rice, meat and vegetables (all cooked well, of course). Joe and I eat too much again and Gashon won’t let us pay for our meal. His cousin comes too, he is also Lebanese and went to school in Texas. He is a shipper. Joe brings up that he still thinks something is really fishy about Gashon, and now his cousin. But we will try not to judge, he is giving us a free meal, after all! We were a little sad though… in America, we don’t really have “classes” in relation to people. When we went to the restaurant with the Senegalese food, Gashon came in the car with us, and we asked Mamadu to come in with us. Gashon promptly said no. We asked why and he said here, you never ever eat with your driver, or any of your “help”. If you invite them in to the restaurant, they will sit at a different table. We were sad for Mamadu, he seemed excited to eat. When we got back in the car, we expressed that we were sorry but he he had no problem with it. Then we looked back, and wondered; when we ask him to eat with us, he says no, but then once we all sit down and he figures out it’s fine, he orders something along with us. Maybe he feels privelidged to be asked to sit at our table with us!? Such a strange thought.
After lunch, I really really want a hand-made dress! We go back to the market and look at material, but we have a communication misunderstanding. There is the cloth, but I thought you could buy the cloth and then have them make it for you there, but I realized I didn’t think that was the case. You had to buy the cloth and then take it to a dress maker. Mamadu tries to bargain for me anyways and he can’t get the guy to go down to the price he thinks is reasonable. So, we walk to another market but soon find out, this market goes all the way back. This reminds me slightly of the market I went through in Morocco, but this one was worse. I almost gagged from the smell of stale trash, cooking food and diarrhea all in one. We made our way through but there was nothing here but junk and lots of flies.
We get back in the car and I am a bit discouraged. Oh well. We make a quick stop at Mamadu’s neighborhood and he beeps the car. Up walks one of his sons and one of the girls from his family (not sure her relation) with her little baby on her back, just like the other day. She hands Mamadu a bag and he opens it for me revealing two dresses. I tell him I especially like one in particular, but he motions that they are both a present from his family. I am nearly moved to tears! A dirt-poor family is giving ME a present, of something that I really wanted?? How kind-hearted of them. Way to make the day!
We head back into the city area and we notice down the street it’s absolutely full of all people. We weren’t going anywhere, fast. We park the car and head to the very center of town where thousands of people are standing around celebrating and promoting their presidential candidate. There is even a very, very unorganized parade trudging down the street – police/military were standing around telling people from different parties to head in different directions. We met one of them who wanted us to write down our mobile numbers, again; even though we didn’t speak any Portuguese. I really don’t understand what goes on in these people’s heads. Anyways, there are hundreds of large flatbed trucks packed with people yelling and dancing all around in support of the election. It really was incredible to see how many people were here for the event. We sat and watched all the people go by and every now and again we would get a “branco!” for someone which means white person.
I found it amusing at one point, Joe told one English-speaker that he spoke Chinese and the guy said, why? You’re not Chinese. Why don’t you speak French. It’s a very good language.
What a great, eye-opening experience here in Bissau. Moving on to Banjul tomorrow, via Dakar!
We head to the restaurant and Gashon shows up, pays for our drinks we had started while waiting for him, and then we are off to another restaurant. We walk in and there are very large ladies in their typical African dresses and hair covers cooking home-made meals, for the restaurant that we walk into. There is no menu. We all get the same food, and it’s very good. Typical Senegalese food. Rice, meat and vegetables (all cooked well, of course). Joe and I eat too much again and Gashon won’t let us pay for our meal. His cousin comes too, he is also Lebanese and went to school in Texas. He is a shipper. Joe brings up that he still thinks something is really fishy about Gashon, and now his cousin. But we will try not to judge, he is giving us a free meal, after all! We were a little sad though… in America, we don’t really have “classes” in relation to people. When we went to the restaurant with the Senegalese food, Gashon came in the car with us, and we asked Mamadu to come in with us. Gashon promptly said no. We asked why and he said here, you never ever eat with your driver, or any of your “help”. If you invite them in to the restaurant, they will sit at a different table. We were sad for Mamadu, he seemed excited to eat. When we got back in the car, we expressed that we were sorry but he he had no problem with it. Then we looked back, and wondered; when we ask him to eat with us, he says no, but then once we all sit down and he figures out it’s fine, he orders something along with us. Maybe he feels privelidged to be asked to sit at our table with us!? Such a strange thought.
After lunch, I really really want a hand-made dress! We go back to the market and look at material, but we have a communication misunderstanding. There is the cloth, but I thought you could buy the cloth and then have them make it for you there, but I realized I didn’t think that was the case. You had to buy the cloth and then take it to a dress maker. Mamadu tries to bargain for me anyways and he can’t get the guy to go down to the price he thinks is reasonable. So, we walk to another market but soon find out, this market goes all the way back. This reminds me slightly of the market I went through in Morocco, but this one was worse. I almost gagged from the smell of stale trash, cooking food and diarrhea all in one. We made our way through but there was nothing here but junk and lots of flies.
We get back in the car and I am a bit discouraged. Oh well. We make a quick stop at Mamadu’s neighborhood and he beeps the car. Up walks one of his sons and one of the girls from his family (not sure her relation) with her little baby on her back, just like the other day. She hands Mamadu a bag and he opens it for me revealing two dresses. I tell him I especially like one in particular, but he motions that they are both a present from his family. I am nearly moved to tears! A dirt-poor family is giving ME a present, of something that I really wanted?? How kind-hearted of them. Way to make the day!
We head back into the city area and we notice down the street it’s absolutely full of all people. We weren’t going anywhere, fast. We park the car and head to the very center of town where thousands of people are standing around celebrating and promoting their presidential candidate. There is even a very, very unorganized parade trudging down the street – police/military were standing around telling people from different parties to head in different directions. We met one of them who wanted us to write down our mobile numbers, again; even though we didn’t speak any Portuguese. I really don’t understand what goes on in these people’s heads. Anyways, there are hundreds of large flatbed trucks packed with people yelling and dancing all around in support of the election. It really was incredible to see how many people were here for the event. We sat and watched all the people go by and every now and again we would get a “branco!” for someone which means white person.
I found it amusing at one point, Joe told one English-speaker that he spoke Chinese and the guy said, why? You’re not Chinese. Why don’t you speak French. It’s a very good language.
What a great, eye-opening experience here in Bissau. Moving on to Banjul tomorrow, via Dakar!
Obama Bar
And today was yet another pretty amazing day. We started out by trying to go to the “American Embassy” which I didn’t think existed; but our driver had mentioned something about it a couple days before. So we tried, a few times with no avail, and my knowledge was correct. In the general area where the driver thought there was the embassy, we found the United Nations so we decided to stop there (because we needed a quality housing source). We were sent from this person to that person and were eventually told that they couldn’t help us because they were not allowed to unless we had a document that had been approved, but finally; the last person we called agreed to see us. He is the head of the security department for the UN, a really nice man from Portugal. We took about a half hour of his time and it was amazing to listen to his knowledge and view of Bissau. Yes, economically speaking it is a very poor country, but the people are not desperate, you don’t see them dying of hunger in the streets. This was a great experience for me; having studied international relations I have always been extremely interested in the work the UN does; it was a pleasure to meet someone so high-up in the organization.
We finished at the UN and headed to the only well-known “sports” club in Bissau; a small gym with a run-down track. This was probably the most popular sports “club” for foreigners, so reluctantly we needed to get the prices.
The weather, I swear must be stranger than New England. It rained off and on today about 3 times, one of which was a VERY heavy thunderstorm which cause the worst flash-flooding I have ever experienced in my life. We had just eaten lunch at one of the nicer hotels in the city when a severe storm with pounding rain came through for about 20 minutes. By the time it was over, there was a river running down the street ; literally – a river up to your knees. This caused some serious traffic as people needed to drive up all the way to the concrete of the hotel to exit the car, and there was only room for one spot to do this. Our driver did the same for us because there was no other way to actually get in without being soaked in red mud water, or actually carried away in the street river!
In the name of the huge election there will be on Sunday, people all over the place are striving to support who they want to win. There are stations all over the city to hang out and play music, dance, and support the president elects. They put numerous posters up everywhere to show who they are supporting. Joe just HAD to get some posters, so I obliged and we got 4 perfectly cheesy maps to take home with us!
It really hit me today how nice everyone really, truly is. Everyone we have met so far has just been incredibly kind, you are always welcomed with a warm handshake, but not a smile – because I swear they just don’t do that here, even though they are happy to meet you but you wouldn’t even know it. They will, however; go way out of the way to help out. Some of the nicest people I have ever met.
The last really memorable thing that happened today was Obama bar. Driving by, and MAJOR props to Joe, we found a bar with a painted picture of Obama outside (and not a bad one too!) so we took some pictures, went inside to take more, and then we were summoned to the owner’s village. He took us into his small 1 bedroom room and when he opened the door, I was amazed to see the shrines to US actors, actresses, and famous American icons (including Obama and Victoria/David Beckam) in general. Proudly, I said, “you like America?” He sure does.
We finished at the UN and headed to the only well-known “sports” club in Bissau; a small gym with a run-down track. This was probably the most popular sports “club” for foreigners, so reluctantly we needed to get the prices.
The weather, I swear must be stranger than New England. It rained off and on today about 3 times, one of which was a VERY heavy thunderstorm which cause the worst flash-flooding I have ever experienced in my life. We had just eaten lunch at one of the nicer hotels in the city when a severe storm with pounding rain came through for about 20 minutes. By the time it was over, there was a river running down the street ; literally – a river up to your knees. This caused some serious traffic as people needed to drive up all the way to the concrete of the hotel to exit the car, and there was only room for one spot to do this. Our driver did the same for us because there was no other way to actually get in without being soaked in red mud water, or actually carried away in the street river!
In the name of the huge election there will be on Sunday, people all over the place are striving to support who they want to win. There are stations all over the city to hang out and play music, dance, and support the president elects. They put numerous posters up everywhere to show who they are supporting. Joe just HAD to get some posters, so I obliged and we got 4 perfectly cheesy maps to take home with us!
It really hit me today how nice everyone really, truly is. Everyone we have met so far has just been incredibly kind, you are always welcomed with a warm handshake, but not a smile – because I swear they just don’t do that here, even though they are happy to meet you but you wouldn’t even know it. They will, however; go way out of the way to help out. Some of the nicest people I have ever met.
The last really memorable thing that happened today was Obama bar. Driving by, and MAJOR props to Joe, we found a bar with a painted picture of Obama outside (and not a bad one too!) so we took some pictures, went inside to take more, and then we were summoned to the owner’s village. He took us into his small 1 bedroom room and when he opened the door, I was amazed to see the shrines to US actors, actresses, and famous American icons (including Obama and Victoria/David Beckam) in general. Proudly, I said, “you like America?” He sure does.
2 special visits
We tried to visit Air Senegal for flight info but the power had been down for 2 weeks so the guy couldn’t price flights for us. Why he was even there and “working” was a mystery to me.
One little boy started following me and Joe asking for money. I reached into my purse to give them a banana and all of a sudden about 8 of them came out of nowhere. I handed over the banana to the one who reached the highest and didn’t look back, I’m sure they fought over it like crazy.
Joe and I did 4 memorable things today. We bought a passport case that says Guinea-Bissau (and it’s actually very nicely designed!) We got yelled at a couple times for taking pictures of people, we had lunch at the house of our Lebanese friend, and we went to our taxi driver’s house after work. At our Lebanese friend’s house, he had rice, chicken, and potatoes (sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, carrots, etc.) in a lovely semi-spicy sauce. It started with cole slaw made from cabbage. Then there was rice, chicken and vegetables with a spicy sauce made with palm oil. It was a lovely lunch and I somehow was able to eat the whole thing (my plate was HUGE!) Well, I guess not a huge surprise for me. He had a cute little house, still very open, full of flies/bugs, only sometimes working electricity, run-down, but probably considered very high-class for the area. He had 3 girls in the kitchen working for him; cooking and cleaning. He also had a whole bunch of other people around doing odds and ends, including running his store. He has Mercedes for cars (2 of them) and drivers as well. His really cute 19 year old daughter was there too, and she invited a local guy who could speak a little English but was very quiet the whole time. We had great conversation and he helped us out even more with our survey. Along with the typical African dish that we ate, we also had some Lebanese bread and coffee, which was very good (strong and thick but unlike anything I had had before). We left from here to keep working, but I may go dress shopping with the girl on Friday. All of us plan to do something on Friday, so that should be fun and something to look forward to. (PS, still not sure if he’s a drug dealer, but we don’t think so).
At the end of the day our taxi driver took us to visit his family. We drove off-road (which is most of the road system here) through lots of garbage and huge holes until the car came to a stop in front of a lot of garbage piles, huts, and families hanging around outside who looked at us wide-eyed. After walking through some fly-infested garbage and checking out the chickens and pigs, we came to his house with the dirt floor in the middle of it all. There were houses of the same time all around this one, and a large trash pit was in the middle of it all, and the bathroom (which we assumed it was), was behind us. I kissed his wife in the beautiful African dress on the cheeks and said hello to his two little boys. There were two other girls around with their kids (I think?) One of the mothers couldn’t be any older than 18 years old and she had a baby wrapped in a sarong around her back. We played with the kids and amazed them with expensive sunglasses and digital cameras (which we let them play with and take pics of themselves). One little boy was attached to Joe, one of the little girls reminded me of Steph when she was little, such an attention-grabbing drama queen but man was she cute. The little boy rubbed Joe’s hair on his legs and on his chest, probably because daddy didn’t have that himself. There were shoulder rides and lots of laughing as these 2 cultures came together (without speaking more than a word of each others’ language) and enjoyed the day and each other’s company, no matter how strange the situation really was – especially for me and Joe. Our taxi driver doesn’t talk much at all, but he can understand and speak very little English. When he agrees with something, or understands us, he just nods his head and grunts. His wife talks a lot more, in general. No one really tried to even speak to us, and we didn’t try to speak either, knowing we sure wouldn’t be able to communicate much.
It was a great day in general, though; we got to hang out with residents of two completely different classes in a very personalized setting, all in one day. Just incredible.
One little boy started following me and Joe asking for money. I reached into my purse to give them a banana and all of a sudden about 8 of them came out of nowhere. I handed over the banana to the one who reached the highest and didn’t look back, I’m sure they fought over it like crazy.
Joe and I did 4 memorable things today. We bought a passport case that says Guinea-Bissau (and it’s actually very nicely designed!) We got yelled at a couple times for taking pictures of people, we had lunch at the house of our Lebanese friend, and we went to our taxi driver’s house after work. At our Lebanese friend’s house, he had rice, chicken, and potatoes (sweet potatoes, regular potatoes, carrots, etc.) in a lovely semi-spicy sauce. It started with cole slaw made from cabbage. Then there was rice, chicken and vegetables with a spicy sauce made with palm oil. It was a lovely lunch and I somehow was able to eat the whole thing (my plate was HUGE!) Well, I guess not a huge surprise for me. He had a cute little house, still very open, full of flies/bugs, only sometimes working electricity, run-down, but probably considered very high-class for the area. He had 3 girls in the kitchen working for him; cooking and cleaning. He also had a whole bunch of other people around doing odds and ends, including running his store. He has Mercedes for cars (2 of them) and drivers as well. His really cute 19 year old daughter was there too, and she invited a local guy who could speak a little English but was very quiet the whole time. We had great conversation and he helped us out even more with our survey. Along with the typical African dish that we ate, we also had some Lebanese bread and coffee, which was very good (strong and thick but unlike anything I had had before). We left from here to keep working, but I may go dress shopping with the girl on Friday. All of us plan to do something on Friday, so that should be fun and something to look forward to. (PS, still not sure if he’s a drug dealer, but we don’t think so).
At the end of the day our taxi driver took us to visit his family. We drove off-road (which is most of the road system here) through lots of garbage and huge holes until the car came to a stop in front of a lot of garbage piles, huts, and families hanging around outside who looked at us wide-eyed. After walking through some fly-infested garbage and checking out the chickens and pigs, we came to his house with the dirt floor in the middle of it all. There were houses of the same time all around this one, and a large trash pit was in the middle of it all, and the bathroom (which we assumed it was), was behind us. I kissed his wife in the beautiful African dress on the cheeks and said hello to his two little boys. There were two other girls around with their kids (I think?) One of the mothers couldn’t be any older than 18 years old and she had a baby wrapped in a sarong around her back. We played with the kids and amazed them with expensive sunglasses and digital cameras (which we let them play with and take pics of themselves). One little boy was attached to Joe, one of the little girls reminded me of Steph when she was little, such an attention-grabbing drama queen but man was she cute. The little boy rubbed Joe’s hair on his legs and on his chest, probably because daddy didn’t have that himself. There were shoulder rides and lots of laughing as these 2 cultures came together (without speaking more than a word of each others’ language) and enjoyed the day and each other’s company, no matter how strange the situation really was – especially for me and Joe. Our taxi driver doesn’t talk much at all, but he can understand and speak very little English. When he agrees with something, or understands us, he just nods his head and grunts. His wife talks a lot more, in general. No one really tried to even speak to us, and we didn’t try to speak either, knowing we sure wouldn’t be able to communicate much.
It was a great day in general, though; we got to hang out with residents of two completely different classes in a very personalized setting, all in one day. Just incredible.
Moldy cheese and ant bread
My room smells. It’s a combination of sour milk and a faint smell of diarrhea, which isn’t too far off from what the air outside smells like in general. And, the roads (dirt) are bright brown-red (the ones which aren’t paved, which is 95% of the city of Bissau). It rains here almost more than it does in New England, and it rained practically all day today. Maybe this was the cause of the constant black-outs in the grocery store today. The hotel lost power early this morning too, when I was just getting up.
Just about all the people here are skin and bones. Even the hotel workers. Today I gave up three different food items to three different people looking to sell silly little items like phone cards, and a car washing. I knew they needed it way more than I did: a guava drink, a coke, and a banana. I was thinking tomorrow I would go in a grocery store, buy a bunch of groceries with my lunch expense, and hand them out to some children. Though I know that sadly, once they are done with these things, the remains are thrown into a ditch. There is no sense of cleanliness here, at all.
We went out to lunch today at a restaurant that was “highly recommended”; well, relatively speaking. We took our driver to lunch as well. Upon sitting down, we were given a basket of stale bread that had tiny ants crawling throughout it. Yum. Joe actually ventured to eat one of them for some strange reason. I ordered the fish of the day which was served eyes, teeth and bones in all. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad and tasted fairly fresh. The only fresh fruit/vegetables and meats are sold by vendors on the side of the street. And normally, you must buy your meat alive and slaughter it yourself. Bon appetite!
We ventured into one of the restaurants we use as a “fast food place” and there were flies everywhere, dirt all over the floors, they were in the middle of painting all the walls, it smelled, and there was a guy in the corner laying down and napping. Yum. We got the price of a cheeseburger and got out of there as soon as possible.
A girl in one of the grocery stores today stopped Joe and motioned to diving into his backpack and flying away with him. (Not sure if it was him she wanted or just to get out of there!) She spoke very little English, but while I was off getting some prices Joe tried to talk with her and she mentioned that we should come back tomorrow and have a drink, or something like that. So, we might! So far, she has been the only person I have met here with any energy to her, whatsoever. Everyone else never smiles and just kind of go about life mundanely. Not that they are not helpful, they just really don’t appear to have much life to them. One of the workers we kept trying to get prices from kept disappearing. We finally found him (after he had already been yelled at!) helping his friend try on a pair of new shoes. There really isn’t much incentive to do anything here, the economy all consists of only dead-end jobs. We asked our driver today what his son does and he said he works on a farm.
I might use one of the owners of the grocery stores for a housing source. When we were asking for permission, he was trying to tell us that he could tell us about the price of apartments too. I was so excited because I need to do this but there is NO ONE to talk to here; (no realtors). Also, I find it interesting to see a place where 99.9% of the foreigners are either embassy workers, or UN/Worldbank workers. Their trucks and houses and embassies seem to be everywhere because they are the absolute only nice building structures that exist here.
Flatbed trucks are used to teach people how to drive; (surprisingly, you still need to go to driving school to get a license! Despite not one traffic light in the whole country). There is an election on Sunday (we didn’t even know that the borders were going to be closed Saturday on for election purposes!) so there are people from the two parties promoting their party through song, dance and flags/signs all over the city. Large flatbed trucks carry numerous people dancing around with flags of the one they support waving. Their president and the head of the military man were both assassinated earlier this year.
Just about all the people here are skin and bones. Even the hotel workers. Today I gave up three different food items to three different people looking to sell silly little items like phone cards, and a car washing. I knew they needed it way more than I did: a guava drink, a coke, and a banana. I was thinking tomorrow I would go in a grocery store, buy a bunch of groceries with my lunch expense, and hand them out to some children. Though I know that sadly, once they are done with these things, the remains are thrown into a ditch. There is no sense of cleanliness here, at all.
We went out to lunch today at a restaurant that was “highly recommended”; well, relatively speaking. We took our driver to lunch as well. Upon sitting down, we were given a basket of stale bread that had tiny ants crawling throughout it. Yum. Joe actually ventured to eat one of them for some strange reason. I ordered the fish of the day which was served eyes, teeth and bones in all. Luckily, it wasn’t too bad and tasted fairly fresh. The only fresh fruit/vegetables and meats are sold by vendors on the side of the street. And normally, you must buy your meat alive and slaughter it yourself. Bon appetite!
We ventured into one of the restaurants we use as a “fast food place” and there were flies everywhere, dirt all over the floors, they were in the middle of painting all the walls, it smelled, and there was a guy in the corner laying down and napping. Yum. We got the price of a cheeseburger and got out of there as soon as possible.
A girl in one of the grocery stores today stopped Joe and motioned to diving into his backpack and flying away with him. (Not sure if it was him she wanted or just to get out of there!) She spoke very little English, but while I was off getting some prices Joe tried to talk with her and she mentioned that we should come back tomorrow and have a drink, or something like that. So, we might! So far, she has been the only person I have met here with any energy to her, whatsoever. Everyone else never smiles and just kind of go about life mundanely. Not that they are not helpful, they just really don’t appear to have much life to them. One of the workers we kept trying to get prices from kept disappearing. We finally found him (after he had already been yelled at!) helping his friend try on a pair of new shoes. There really isn’t much incentive to do anything here, the economy all consists of only dead-end jobs. We asked our driver today what his son does and he said he works on a farm.
I might use one of the owners of the grocery stores for a housing source. When we were asking for permission, he was trying to tell us that he could tell us about the price of apartments too. I was so excited because I need to do this but there is NO ONE to talk to here; (no realtors). Also, I find it interesting to see a place where 99.9% of the foreigners are either embassy workers, or UN/Worldbank workers. Their trucks and houses and embassies seem to be everywhere because they are the absolute only nice building structures that exist here.
Flatbed trucks are used to teach people how to drive; (surprisingly, you still need to go to driving school to get a license! Despite not one traffic light in the whole country). There is an election on Sunday (we didn’t even know that the borders were going to be closed Saturday on for election purposes!) so there are people from the two parties promoting their party through song, dance and flags/signs all over the city. Large flatbed trucks carry numerous people dancing around with flags of the one they support waving. Their president and the head of the military man were both assassinated earlier this year.
It's a little too early for visitors....
I wake up this morning because I swear I hear a knock on my window. I lie there for a few minutes, determining that I must have heard something above me. I close my eyes and start to fall back asleep. After a couple minutes, I hear it again, on and off and then suddenly it almost sounds like someone’s throwing a bouncy ball at my window. I freak out and run over to Joe’s room and knock on the door and say “someone is knocking on my window and I am so freaked out!” By this point, it’s almost 7 am. So he says “why don’t you look from my window”. I do, and see nothing. So, I say OK, I’ll go look out my window. I do, while still hearing the noises, still completely freaked out, and there are two blackbirds hauling themselves repeatedly at my window. WTF. Thank GOODNESS I just wasn’t alone! Though, this is when I notice two guards with big machine guns in the near distance, And I’m thinkin maybe this ought to make me feel a little better next time I need to look out the window again…..????
Today… was nuts. Joe and I locked up just about all our belongings in our suitcase (just in case) and headed to breakfast where we picked and chose from the fresh fruits with frequently landing fruit flies(all of which had been cut open from fruits with thick skin! Very important because they don’t need to be washed off), and some bread/scrambled eggs/baked beans of some sort/hot dogs things. So I picked and chose a little from an unpeeled banana, piece of bread, a little beans and a half a dog. We even had coffee with milk, and we were successful, no sickness yet (knock on wood)….
We asked the hotel to call us a taxi and she wanted me to give her my phone so she could call because she said she couldn’t do it from the hotel, but we didn’t have one that works here. She eventually was able to call somehow and a taxi would be there in 30 minutes, which turned into 45 before he actually showed up – PS the hotel speaks no English; I got along with a little Spanish only.
We venture into the town… and it’s really just amazing. Probably at least 85% of the population lives in little huts made of trees and such but their property (in the “suburbs” just minutes outside the city) appears to be kept considerably clean. Pigs are running wild and goats are being “walked” on chains. The only real infrastructure there is was put up by foreign ministries – there are nice guarded houses right in the center for the foreign delegates and reasonably built buildings for the embassy workers but, that’s about the extent of it. The central market area is a shit show of chaos along the “roads” and on the streets crowded by hundreds of people walking around in the very slow, nonchalant, I’m going nowhere fast type of African walk that I have never seen anywhere else but in Africa. It sure is dirty, but it’s not the stifling city that Luanda was; it is much smaller and clearly much less populated than I remember Luanda to be. Because of this, it has a cleaner feel to me, but it surely is much less developed. There are beautiful African dresses everywhere, and lots of buckets on heads (which I love to see!) and even some great artesan work.
We go to the first grocery store which is right downtown. This store is far from air-conditioned but has a better selection than I thought they would have. After just 10 minutes I am SWEATING BALLS more than I have ever in my whole life, and was feeling really uncomfortable but knew I had to keep on plugging away. I had sweat stains all over my shirts and had beads dripping down my face. There was a guy there who apparently worked there and was either deaf or had a very difficult time speaking for one reason or another, and he kept babbling very loudly to customers coming in and out of the store. Meanwhile, there was a girl in the store who just sat around and watched everyone but came up to help me out anytime I was clearly lost cause I couldn’t find the price. Suddenly in the middle of pricing the lights start to go out and a worker mumbles something to me after staring blankly to my left. Closed now, open again at 4 PM.
So we continue on via car (very slowly cause there are holes everywhere in the road) to a pharmacy where we find a really nice guy who spoke a little English who helped us with all the medications we could find. What we couldn’t translate, Joe drew pictures for the guy. Sharades! Meanwhile he offered Joe and our driver some tea (but not me!) A boatload of nationals flew buy in a flatbed truck singing, chanting and waving flags (I didn’t get my camera in time), but I jumped for joy in intrigue and the guy said “you like?” I said “yes!” He said “then you go” and we both started laughing.
Then we went to a paper store where we met the owner who was Lebanese and had at least 5 young workers under him. After seeing his gated house, BMWs, and him telling us about his $9,000 medical trip to Senegal, Joe convinced me that this guy had to be a major drug dealer. Really, why else would this Lebanese guy want to live in Guinea Bissau – the #1 drug trafficking country in the world? Especially after complaining how absurdly expensive taxes were to import his few paper products in a dingy store that he had. Well, Joe and I were invited to eat lunch with him at his house on Wednesday so I will let you know how much more proof we can get for our story. He was a really nice guy though, who spoke English very well and gave us many ideas for our survey.
We eventually moved on to a Toyota dealership where we met a French guy who had lived in Guinea Bissau for 2 years with his wife and 2 kids. Before this he was in Kinshasa. God knows why he would ever want to live in Western Africa with a 5 year old and a 6 month old in a job that probably doesn’t even pay very much for years. He also was extremely helpful and provided us with many contacts. Going into all these stores were just mind-blowing. They were all dirty and run-down and dingy and cracked to say the absolute least. There was luxury nothing in this country. As a matter of fact, I was shocked to see a family living in a straw hut literally right outside the barriers of our hotel.
We ended with another spaghetti rendezvous (and I even tried some shrimp this time… all is well) and then I started passing out while going over prices (but promptly woke up after a shower with enough time to write!)
Goodnight, more tomorrow.
Today… was nuts. Joe and I locked up just about all our belongings in our suitcase (just in case) and headed to breakfast where we picked and chose from the fresh fruits with frequently landing fruit flies(all of which had been cut open from fruits with thick skin! Very important because they don’t need to be washed off), and some bread/scrambled eggs/baked beans of some sort/hot dogs things. So I picked and chose a little from an unpeeled banana, piece of bread, a little beans and a half a dog. We even had coffee with milk, and we were successful, no sickness yet (knock on wood)….
We asked the hotel to call us a taxi and she wanted me to give her my phone so she could call because she said she couldn’t do it from the hotel, but we didn’t have one that works here. She eventually was able to call somehow and a taxi would be there in 30 minutes, which turned into 45 before he actually showed up – PS the hotel speaks no English; I got along with a little Spanish only.
We venture into the town… and it’s really just amazing. Probably at least 85% of the population lives in little huts made of trees and such but their property (in the “suburbs” just minutes outside the city) appears to be kept considerably clean. Pigs are running wild and goats are being “walked” on chains. The only real infrastructure there is was put up by foreign ministries – there are nice guarded houses right in the center for the foreign delegates and reasonably built buildings for the embassy workers but, that’s about the extent of it. The central market area is a shit show of chaos along the “roads” and on the streets crowded by hundreds of people walking around in the very slow, nonchalant, I’m going nowhere fast type of African walk that I have never seen anywhere else but in Africa. It sure is dirty, but it’s not the stifling city that Luanda was; it is much smaller and clearly much less populated than I remember Luanda to be. Because of this, it has a cleaner feel to me, but it surely is much less developed. There are beautiful African dresses everywhere, and lots of buckets on heads (which I love to see!) and even some great artesan work.
We go to the first grocery store which is right downtown. This store is far from air-conditioned but has a better selection than I thought they would have. After just 10 minutes I am SWEATING BALLS more than I have ever in my whole life, and was feeling really uncomfortable but knew I had to keep on plugging away. I had sweat stains all over my shirts and had beads dripping down my face. There was a guy there who apparently worked there and was either deaf or had a very difficult time speaking for one reason or another, and he kept babbling very loudly to customers coming in and out of the store. Meanwhile, there was a girl in the store who just sat around and watched everyone but came up to help me out anytime I was clearly lost cause I couldn’t find the price. Suddenly in the middle of pricing the lights start to go out and a worker mumbles something to me after staring blankly to my left. Closed now, open again at 4 PM.
So we continue on via car (very slowly cause there are holes everywhere in the road) to a pharmacy where we find a really nice guy who spoke a little English who helped us with all the medications we could find. What we couldn’t translate, Joe drew pictures for the guy. Sharades! Meanwhile he offered Joe and our driver some tea (but not me!) A boatload of nationals flew buy in a flatbed truck singing, chanting and waving flags (I didn’t get my camera in time), but I jumped for joy in intrigue and the guy said “you like?” I said “yes!” He said “then you go” and we both started laughing.
Then we went to a paper store where we met the owner who was Lebanese and had at least 5 young workers under him. After seeing his gated house, BMWs, and him telling us about his $9,000 medical trip to Senegal, Joe convinced me that this guy had to be a major drug dealer. Really, why else would this Lebanese guy want to live in Guinea Bissau – the #1 drug trafficking country in the world? Especially after complaining how absurdly expensive taxes were to import his few paper products in a dingy store that he had. Well, Joe and I were invited to eat lunch with him at his house on Wednesday so I will let you know how much more proof we can get for our story. He was a really nice guy though, who spoke English very well and gave us many ideas for our survey.
We eventually moved on to a Toyota dealership where we met a French guy who had lived in Guinea Bissau for 2 years with his wife and 2 kids. Before this he was in Kinshasa. God knows why he would ever want to live in Western Africa with a 5 year old and a 6 month old in a job that probably doesn’t even pay very much for years. He also was extremely helpful and provided us with many contacts. Going into all these stores were just mind-blowing. They were all dirty and run-down and dingy and cracked to say the absolute least. There was luxury nothing in this country. As a matter of fact, I was shocked to see a family living in a straw hut literally right outside the barriers of our hotel.
We ended with another spaghetti rendezvous (and I even tried some shrimp this time… all is well) and then I started passing out while going over prices (but promptly woke up after a shower with enough time to write!)
Goodnight, more tomorrow.
Here goes trip #4...
Back in Africa, already on survey trip #4.
I called my taxi friend Mounir to see if he could pick me up and take me to the airport (from Boston), but it wasn’t during his shift. So instead, he rearranged for his friend to come get me in the morning. To my surprise (and delight), this disheveled girl in sweatpants took a black towncar with tinted windows to the airport in style. When I asked about the cost, Mounir’s friend Anise said “whatever you usually pay Mounir, maybe twenty-something? So I happily gave him thirty which was a good deal!
Walking through the security line, a guard mentioned to me: “We are hiring”. I said what? I didn’t think I understood what he was saying. Then he said, “you are so organized going through the security line, you clearly have done this before. I wish everyone could do it this well!” A good start to the survey, and yes – I sure have done this before!
By NY, I was tired already. Joe and I got a snack and a beer and walked around to find a post office so I could so generously mail back my T-pass I had taken with me on accident so my roommates can use it for the month. We both got mesmerized by a fish tank before deciding that maybe we ought to close our eyes for a few. Then right before boarding I decided maybe it would be a good idea to get some greens before heading somewhere where it would be a bad idea to eat any due to bacteria. This 5 hour layover was way too long, and I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night.
The flight over wasn’t too bad. Minimal turbulence but even though I was exhausted, I only got about an hour and a half of sleep, and same with Joe. We watched a movie and then I used the opportunity to catch up a little on writing. The flight was only 7.5 hours, I thought it was going to be much longer.
Dakar was a trip and a half. We found it intriguing that this tiny run –down airport was considered a major hub in Africa. We waited for someone to attend to those in transit but there was no one, so we just went on through customs, picked up our luggage even though it was checked through to Bissau (just in case) and our carryon that they made us check in the plane before boarding (which we were freaking out about because there was no indication it would be taken off at Dakar since our flight was continuing on to Nigeria). From there, we were let out into the world of Dakar since we had no idea where to go for departures. The guards told us where to go but not surprisingly, hagglers saw us and grabbed our bags (for us) during a tight squeeze through two polls. Ahhh here we go already I thought. We told them we had no money on us in attempt for them to let our bags go. It’s ok it’s ok they say. We checked on our flight and were ushered into a restaurant waiting area which I assume all the foreigners go to so the locals know where to go and harass them. We order a beer and then our “friends” took me to exchange money in a super sketchy black-market way in a small little shop that sold god knows what, and before they took off, guess what they wanted. Not knowing the exchange rate, we gave them too much and then once we figured it out, felt pretty disappointed in ourselves.
Already we were feeling discouraged and tired and cranky. Every now and again a guard would come in and look around and kick out anyone who wasn’t clearly a foreigner. Though we had one guy come in and sit at the table next to us, he was nice, but all he wanted is some money and he just sat there for hours and hours. At one point he said he was going to sit there and “protect” us and he wanted money for it. Though we ran into him when we were going to check in and he helped us to get a better exchange rate than we got a few hours before so we gave him a little money for “his family that needs to eat”. At least you know here that this excuse Is probably very true. We even had an airport worker in uniform who helped us get into the right line for check-in for Bissau ask for some money for his guidance. Ummm sorry, I think we learned our lesson the first couple times. Our flight was delayed but we didn’t care because we were passed out on our luggage up until it was time to board. This transit just seemed to take forever.
Joe slept the entire hour and a half flight over, from the second we sat down till the second we had to get up. I just sat and prayed for my life since I HATE flying in Africa, though the plane itself wasn’t bad at all. It was a Cape Verdian airline but the airplane itself appeared to be fairly modern.
We landed at an even tinier, completely run-down airport in Bissau. So far, I immediately notice that what I think really saves this country is their lively green vegetation everywhere – (I bet with the proper infrastructure they could do a lot with their agriculture!). But immediately exiting the aircraft I could smell Africa. It was the same smell as in Angola and I have no idea how to put my finger on describing it. It is probably a very dirty smell, though it is distinct but I wouldn’t exactly describe it as dirty. On the way in I broke off the handle of my carryon, and then once I pick up my checked bag I noticed that my bag is ripped and the handle is dented and now keeps getting stuck. Bad luggage luck I guess. We are greeted from someone from the hotel who puts my two bags in a small, rust-filled trunk with liquid dripping in it from the top (which he cannot close) and walla! We are ready to go.
We arrive at the hotel and this is when I notice that I have a very large brown marking from dirt on the whole right side of my breast and down to my stomach. I ask Joe “did you notice this before” and he replies “no, sorry I wasn’t looking at your breasts”. Hahaha. But I’m still not sure how I got this. The people at the hotel speak very minimal English. I am actually impressed with the hotel, after everything I have heard about this city. It has A/C (absolutely needed!) I haven’t seen a mosquito in my room yet, there is hot water, and even a decent looking tv (which probably doesn’t work anyways). I did find a dead beetle on my grossly stained floor, and my room smells, and who knows how clean the bedsheets are. Also, I may or may not be currently listening very clearly to people directly above me having sex. There is absolutely no means of communication, well not today anyways. (The internet doesn’t work today, but we were told it might work tomorrow). You can’t call the US from the hotel, and I doubt we’ll find anywhere else where an international call is possible. It sure is a humbling feeling, and I just hope my Mom isn’t worrying about me right now. My goal here is just don’t get really sick like the last 2 surveyors to come here! I think if I can handle this, we’ll be golden.
I called my taxi friend Mounir to see if he could pick me up and take me to the airport (from Boston), but it wasn’t during his shift. So instead, he rearranged for his friend to come get me in the morning. To my surprise (and delight), this disheveled girl in sweatpants took a black towncar with tinted windows to the airport in style. When I asked about the cost, Mounir’s friend Anise said “whatever you usually pay Mounir, maybe twenty-something? So I happily gave him thirty which was a good deal!
Walking through the security line, a guard mentioned to me: “We are hiring”. I said what? I didn’t think I understood what he was saying. Then he said, “you are so organized going through the security line, you clearly have done this before. I wish everyone could do it this well!” A good start to the survey, and yes – I sure have done this before!
By NY, I was tired already. Joe and I got a snack and a beer and walked around to find a post office so I could so generously mail back my T-pass I had taken with me on accident so my roommates can use it for the month. We both got mesmerized by a fish tank before deciding that maybe we ought to close our eyes for a few. Then right before boarding I decided maybe it would be a good idea to get some greens before heading somewhere where it would be a bad idea to eat any due to bacteria. This 5 hour layover was way too long, and I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night.
The flight over wasn’t too bad. Minimal turbulence but even though I was exhausted, I only got about an hour and a half of sleep, and same with Joe. We watched a movie and then I used the opportunity to catch up a little on writing. The flight was only 7.5 hours, I thought it was going to be much longer.
Dakar was a trip and a half. We found it intriguing that this tiny run –down airport was considered a major hub in Africa. We waited for someone to attend to those in transit but there was no one, so we just went on through customs, picked up our luggage even though it was checked through to Bissau (just in case) and our carryon that they made us check in the plane before boarding (which we were freaking out about because there was no indication it would be taken off at Dakar since our flight was continuing on to Nigeria). From there, we were let out into the world of Dakar since we had no idea where to go for departures. The guards told us where to go but not surprisingly, hagglers saw us and grabbed our bags (for us) during a tight squeeze through two polls. Ahhh here we go already I thought. We told them we had no money on us in attempt for them to let our bags go. It’s ok it’s ok they say. We checked on our flight and were ushered into a restaurant waiting area which I assume all the foreigners go to so the locals know where to go and harass them. We order a beer and then our “friends” took me to exchange money in a super sketchy black-market way in a small little shop that sold god knows what, and before they took off, guess what they wanted. Not knowing the exchange rate, we gave them too much and then once we figured it out, felt pretty disappointed in ourselves.
Already we were feeling discouraged and tired and cranky. Every now and again a guard would come in and look around and kick out anyone who wasn’t clearly a foreigner. Though we had one guy come in and sit at the table next to us, he was nice, but all he wanted is some money and he just sat there for hours and hours. At one point he said he was going to sit there and “protect” us and he wanted money for it. Though we ran into him when we were going to check in and he helped us to get a better exchange rate than we got a few hours before so we gave him a little money for “his family that needs to eat”. At least you know here that this excuse Is probably very true. We even had an airport worker in uniform who helped us get into the right line for check-in for Bissau ask for some money for his guidance. Ummm sorry, I think we learned our lesson the first couple times. Our flight was delayed but we didn’t care because we were passed out on our luggage up until it was time to board. This transit just seemed to take forever.
Joe slept the entire hour and a half flight over, from the second we sat down till the second we had to get up. I just sat and prayed for my life since I HATE flying in Africa, though the plane itself wasn’t bad at all. It was a Cape Verdian airline but the airplane itself appeared to be fairly modern.
We landed at an even tinier, completely run-down airport in Bissau. So far, I immediately notice that what I think really saves this country is their lively green vegetation everywhere – (I bet with the proper infrastructure they could do a lot with their agriculture!). But immediately exiting the aircraft I could smell Africa. It was the same smell as in Angola and I have no idea how to put my finger on describing it. It is probably a very dirty smell, though it is distinct but I wouldn’t exactly describe it as dirty. On the way in I broke off the handle of my carryon, and then once I pick up my checked bag I noticed that my bag is ripped and the handle is dented and now keeps getting stuck. Bad luggage luck I guess. We are greeted from someone from the hotel who puts my two bags in a small, rust-filled trunk with liquid dripping in it from the top (which he cannot close) and walla! We are ready to go.
We arrive at the hotel and this is when I notice that I have a very large brown marking from dirt on the whole right side of my breast and down to my stomach. I ask Joe “did you notice this before” and he replies “no, sorry I wasn’t looking at your breasts”. Hahaha. But I’m still not sure how I got this. The people at the hotel speak very minimal English. I am actually impressed with the hotel, after everything I have heard about this city. It has A/C (absolutely needed!) I haven’t seen a mosquito in my room yet, there is hot water, and even a decent looking tv (which probably doesn’t work anyways). I did find a dead beetle on my grossly stained floor, and my room smells, and who knows how clean the bedsheets are. Also, I may or may not be currently listening very clearly to people directly above me having sex. There is absolutely no means of communication, well not today anyways. (The internet doesn’t work today, but we were told it might work tomorrow). You can’t call the US from the hotel, and I doubt we’ll find anywhere else where an international call is possible. It sure is a humbling feeling, and I just hope my Mom isn’t worrying about me right now. My goal here is just don’t get really sick like the last 2 surveyors to come here! I think if I can handle this, we’ll be golden.
Brats
Bratislava was really nice. I really didn’t like, however; that the hotel was just really snobby. A girl at the business center was a huge b***h and she wasn’t amused at all by my need of her help. Also, the hotel staff seemed to treat me like someone who had no money, which I didn’t like at all either.
Jakub came to visit me here, a friend I met back in November. His visit was really nice especially since I knew nothing about Bratislava. He showed me all around the city, up to the really strange space dome at the end of the bridge, and we also walked throughout the old city, which is absolutely beautiful by night and by day. Great restaurants here, too. So very much to choose from. Jakub’s visit was the highlight of this visit, for sure. Bratislava is a super cute city that I would recommend to anyone, but in survey terms, nothing hugely note wise stood out here.
It was lovely to be home again for another 6 weeks, but; I ended up heading out early from the US to hit up Africa and the Caribbean area. Talk soon!
Jakub came to visit me here, a friend I met back in November. His visit was really nice especially since I knew nothing about Bratislava. He showed me all around the city, up to the really strange space dome at the end of the bridge, and we also walked throughout the old city, which is absolutely beautiful by night and by day. Great restaurants here, too. So very much to choose from. Jakub’s visit was the highlight of this visit, for sure. Bratislava is a super cute city that I would recommend to anyone, but in survey terms, nothing hugely note wise stood out here.
It was lovely to be home again for another 6 weeks, but; I ended up heading out early from the US to hit up Africa and the Caribbean area. Talk soon!
Trekkai and restaurants, and restaurants, and restaurants...
Today I went to Trekkai castle. It is very mid-evil here! Castles look like ones I built years and years ago with legos. Really cute area, not super exciting but I had my own personal tour guide which was really nice until they told me at the end of the trip that it was gonna cost 150 lt (instead of 100 which I was told I would pay) because I was the only one on the tour! In the beginning (after I got on the bus) they said it might be a little more because I was solo, but didn’t say how much more! So, unfortunately for them, I didn’t give an extra tip at the end. Too bad because the girl was very nice, and she was young too. It was interesting to hear her talk about the Soviet ways and how people just aren’t use to being independent. Stuck in their old ways; she even said that even she was in some ways.
When I got back from the tour, I spent the rest of my time walking around the Old Town and taking pictures. Overall, it was a very relaxing, wonderful day enjoying the city. This is why I survey!
I went to a couple great restaurants while I was here. One of them was La Provence. It is a French restaurant. There were all sorts of business people there while I was eating, so I tried to play mysterious and tried to pretend I was super-important amongst all the businessmen speaking English. But, I probably didn’t do very well.
On the last night, I had finished my survey and sat down to have a beer. I STUDIED the restaurant guide like only I can and decided that even though a little pricey, I really wanted to try a particular restaurant which was highly recommended. While sitting and having a beer (pre-restaurant departure), I met a couple of Finnish guys who were there on a bachelor party (one out of the two of them were getting married very soon!) Actually, the one getting married was a bit creepy, while the other one was really cool. The one about to get married mentioned to me that he was in an “open” relationship – (he clearly had other intentions for me), and this sketched me out a little bit. But, I mention that I was just about to leave to go for dinner (and was having good conversation with them at the time), so they asked if they would be able to join me, and I obliged. (What else do you say to that question anyways?) We arrive at the restaurant and immediately I feel like I don’t belong. I am in better shape (dress-wise) than the other two guys, but even still – they may have had one-too-many beers to be acceptable for this place. Either way, we sit down and prepare to eat some GREAT food. I get a 4 course meal and it is just amazing. My first course is smoked salmon which is cooking until the second I take the cover off, and dessert was a little strawberry compote that comes with a tube of sugar-frosting that looks like toothpaste that you can squeeze out yourself and regulate how much you put on. It really was just incredible, one of the most unique meals I have ever had. The reviews about it said “it was not just a meal, but an experience”. Boy do I agree! The guys were also very happy that I took them there, if they hadn’t met me they wouldn’t have gone there, they said. One of the guys said it was probably one of the best meals he had ever had.
That night, I got home late and a bit drunk and had an early flight so I decided not to sleep. This made me exhausted – while packing up I actually sat down for a second and passed out for 2 hours on my computer. I woke up just in time for my taxi call and got the taxi to the airport. I had trouble with the flight, though. I had bought this other sketchy little kid’s backpack for a REASON and that didn’t matter, apparently, to fly from Lithuania to Slovakia. Man, I really HATE European airline regulations on weight. I was over by, once again, 10 kilos and was going to have to pay a really hefty fine. Instead, I kinda stood there to see if there was anything the attendant could do, and she kindly cut it in half for me. Geez, can’t she understand that a girl traveling for 6 weeks around the world has a very difficult time toting around only 20 kilos?
I landed to Bratislava and promptly went to bed (this was early; like 10 am early!)
When I got back from the tour, I spent the rest of my time walking around the Old Town and taking pictures. Overall, it was a very relaxing, wonderful day enjoying the city. This is why I survey!
I went to a couple great restaurants while I was here. One of them was La Provence. It is a French restaurant. There were all sorts of business people there while I was eating, so I tried to play mysterious and tried to pretend I was super-important amongst all the businessmen speaking English. But, I probably didn’t do very well.
On the last night, I had finished my survey and sat down to have a beer. I STUDIED the restaurant guide like only I can and decided that even though a little pricey, I really wanted to try a particular restaurant which was highly recommended. While sitting and having a beer (pre-restaurant departure), I met a couple of Finnish guys who were there on a bachelor party (one out of the two of them were getting married very soon!) Actually, the one getting married was a bit creepy, while the other one was really cool. The one about to get married mentioned to me that he was in an “open” relationship – (he clearly had other intentions for me), and this sketched me out a little bit. But, I mention that I was just about to leave to go for dinner (and was having good conversation with them at the time), so they asked if they would be able to join me, and I obliged. (What else do you say to that question anyways?) We arrive at the restaurant and immediately I feel like I don’t belong. I am in better shape (dress-wise) than the other two guys, but even still – they may have had one-too-many beers to be acceptable for this place. Either way, we sit down and prepare to eat some GREAT food. I get a 4 course meal and it is just amazing. My first course is smoked salmon which is cooking until the second I take the cover off, and dessert was a little strawberry compote that comes with a tube of sugar-frosting that looks like toothpaste that you can squeeze out yourself and regulate how much you put on. It really was just incredible, one of the most unique meals I have ever had. The reviews about it said “it was not just a meal, but an experience”. Boy do I agree! The guys were also very happy that I took them there, if they hadn’t met me they wouldn’t have gone there, they said. One of the guys said it was probably one of the best meals he had ever had.
That night, I got home late and a bit drunk and had an early flight so I decided not to sleep. This made me exhausted – while packing up I actually sat down for a second and passed out for 2 hours on my computer. I woke up just in time for my taxi call and got the taxi to the airport. I had trouble with the flight, though. I had bought this other sketchy little kid’s backpack for a REASON and that didn’t matter, apparently, to fly from Lithuania to Slovakia. Man, I really HATE European airline regulations on weight. I was over by, once again, 10 kilos and was going to have to pay a really hefty fine. Instead, I kinda stood there to see if there was anything the attendant could do, and she kindly cut it in half for me. Geez, can’t she understand that a girl traveling for 6 weeks around the world has a very difficult time toting around only 20 kilos?
I landed to Bratislava and promptly went to bed (this was early; like 10 am early!)
Spark plugs... um, for a car?
This morning, I got up and went for a run. Woohoo!! There is a very lovely HUGE park located directly next to the hotel and I spent an hour or so a few times during my stay here getting lost in the mazes of the forests and off-beaten paths. I never was a runner (and I can’t say that I ran the whole time)… but I did start to understand the pleasure of running – it does make you feel liberated. While running, it crossed my mind that 3 weeks ago I was doing this along the Mediterranean shore of Israel, and now I am in the forests of Lithuania. How cool is that??? Life can be good, in this job, sometimes :)
Today a cab stopped for me and I didn’t even have my hand raised. Amazing. Eventually, I found one that I ended up using a lot. Really nice guy and reliable too, but unfortunately does not speak much English which doesn’t help. Also, he frequently did the Lithuanian “talk to my friend on the cell phone who speaks english” bit so that he could understand me better. I had used the regular hotel taxi a couple times (there is only one guy who works directly for the hotel) but I didn’t really like him too much. He was not personable, got lost once, dropped me off at the wrong place another time, and didn’t leave once (from the parking lot) because he was talking on the phone. Grr… frustrating.
I went to a car shop to look for spark plugs. The man that I spoke with couldn’t understand what I was asking for, so he puts me on the phone with a girl who does (which is the same thing that everyone does! I don’t speak English but I’ll call a friend who does). I tell her I am there looking for a spark plug, which I’m pretty sure she probably never learned the translation for spark plug. I repeat the question and she say well, we do sell those but not at that shop; we sell them at another shop that we have – an erotic shop. I am speechless for a second and feeling awkard, and then I say “…. For a car?” and she says no, not for a car. She thinks I am at a car shop surrounded by men looking for a BUTT PLUG!!! Well, I think anyways. I crack up and she does too and I give the phone back to the man. Meanwhile, they figured out what it was I was looking for but the girl told the story to the man and he told the whole rest of the shop in my presence. Still laughing, I quickly said thank you and left the office as soon as I could!
Survey life is SO much better with no permission issues!! I decided to invest some time into traveling to the head office to see if I could get permission. I made it there at the right time and spoke with the marketing director who was super nice and I was able to get permission in about 20 minutes. Amazing! Then, I decided to get right into the survey. I went to the store and NO ONE said a WORD to me. I wanted so badly to throw the permission letter in their faces and say “what about this, b*****s! I tried extra-hard to be noticed and asked to stop but no dice.
But then, later…. I have basically finished the whole grocery-store part of my survey. I am golden. I go back in to get one or two more prices I have missed, and someone actually dares to tell me that I cannot take prices. WHAT??? Oh she did. She messed with me. But I reach in to pull out the letter and, IT’S NOT THERE. I left it in the hotel room this morning! I COMPLETELY blew my chance! I am so disappointed in myself. But worse, I needed to prove to this lady that I actually did have permission. Luckily, I still had the ladies’ card in my pocket and this got me by with no problem.
Here in Lithuania, I don’t stop hearing surprised expressions when I tell people I am from the US. I keep getting “that’s so far away!” from just about everyone. It’s quite amusing, I think.
Today a cab stopped for me and I didn’t even have my hand raised. Amazing. Eventually, I found one that I ended up using a lot. Really nice guy and reliable too, but unfortunately does not speak much English which doesn’t help. Also, he frequently did the Lithuanian “talk to my friend on the cell phone who speaks english” bit so that he could understand me better. I had used the regular hotel taxi a couple times (there is only one guy who works directly for the hotel) but I didn’t really like him too much. He was not personable, got lost once, dropped me off at the wrong place another time, and didn’t leave once (from the parking lot) because he was talking on the phone. Grr… frustrating.
I went to a car shop to look for spark plugs. The man that I spoke with couldn’t understand what I was asking for, so he puts me on the phone with a girl who does (which is the same thing that everyone does! I don’t speak English but I’ll call a friend who does). I tell her I am there looking for a spark plug, which I’m pretty sure she probably never learned the translation for spark plug. I repeat the question and she say well, we do sell those but not at that shop; we sell them at another shop that we have – an erotic shop. I am speechless for a second and feeling awkard, and then I say “…. For a car?” and she says no, not for a car. She thinks I am at a car shop surrounded by men looking for a BUTT PLUG!!! Well, I think anyways. I crack up and she does too and I give the phone back to the man. Meanwhile, they figured out what it was I was looking for but the girl told the story to the man and he told the whole rest of the shop in my presence. Still laughing, I quickly said thank you and left the office as soon as I could!
Survey life is SO much better with no permission issues!! I decided to invest some time into traveling to the head office to see if I could get permission. I made it there at the right time and spoke with the marketing director who was super nice and I was able to get permission in about 20 minutes. Amazing! Then, I decided to get right into the survey. I went to the store and NO ONE said a WORD to me. I wanted so badly to throw the permission letter in their faces and say “what about this, b*****s! I tried extra-hard to be noticed and asked to stop but no dice.
But then, later…. I have basically finished the whole grocery-store part of my survey. I am golden. I go back in to get one or two more prices I have missed, and someone actually dares to tell me that I cannot take prices. WHAT??? Oh she did. She messed with me. But I reach in to pull out the letter and, IT’S NOT THERE. I left it in the hotel room this morning! I COMPLETELY blew my chance! I am so disappointed in myself. But worse, I needed to prove to this lady that I actually did have permission. Luckily, I still had the ladies’ card in my pocket and this got me by with no problem.
Here in Lithuania, I don’t stop hearing surprised expressions when I tell people I am from the US. I keep getting “that’s so far away!” from just about everyone. It’s quite amusing, I think.
Sex-scandals straight out of a 5* hotel
I got to my nice hotel in Vilnius – Crowne Plaza, 5*. It was a nice hotel, but I would soon find out that it was a bit of a ride into the city, unfortunately. The next day I already had a realtor appointment, and on my way there I had to stop in a rush for a bottle of wine. When I get back in the car, my driver pulls out a bottle of tequila and says in English “company party!” Hahahahahaha this made me crack up. I really DON’T want to know why he had that open bottle of tequila in his taxi car! Lithuanians are such lushes (no offense…. )
Later that day I told the front desk I was hoping to hire someone to make some phone calls for me for cash, and he very willingly obliged. He said that it would be better to do it out of the hotel for all intensive purposes but I needed the internet. So he said OK, and came in on his day off. I walked in the door from the realtor appointment and saw him talking to co-workers. He mouthed to me that he would be right up and I was thinking hmm… I wonder how sketchy that looks!!! I went up and he followed.
Speaking of sketchy, Eastern Europe must be the capital of sex-scandal. From all the porn in the Croatia hotel, to what I experienced in Vilnius, I was surprised.
I was doing work late at night in the café’ area, (which had closed down already for the night), when an older, pompous man checked in and was speaking english. I overheard the front desk tell him where to go for a strip club. About 45 minutes later, he came in with a lady scantily clad and a man, and they all walked over to the corner of the café, past where I was sitting. I couldn’t hear really well. The lady got up and went somewhere and the two men were talking for a while. All I heard was, “I am going to leave you now” and the second man got up and left, I will even suggest he was a pimp, and then shortly after the pompous man left the café. To go tend to the scantily clad girl? That was my thought. Soon after, a group of young men walked in and expressed to the front desk that their night could have been better. “How so?” Asked the front desk, and “how can we make it better?” I was thinking, what, do they promote this stuff or something? A few phone calls were made here and there and I heard “2:00 am”. I waited for it. Sure enough, at 2 am an attractive woman in high heels with a guard not far behind walked in the front door, and appeared to go upstairs. This was a 5* hotel I was in, not some 1 hour motel! I wanted to shake all those men and say, “what would your Mom think of you right now?” What an interesting, sketchy night this turned to be.
Later that day I told the front desk I was hoping to hire someone to make some phone calls for me for cash, and he very willingly obliged. He said that it would be better to do it out of the hotel for all intensive purposes but I needed the internet. So he said OK, and came in on his day off. I walked in the door from the realtor appointment and saw him talking to co-workers. He mouthed to me that he would be right up and I was thinking hmm… I wonder how sketchy that looks!!! I went up and he followed.
Speaking of sketchy, Eastern Europe must be the capital of sex-scandal. From all the porn in the Croatia hotel, to what I experienced in Vilnius, I was surprised.
I was doing work late at night in the café’ area, (which had closed down already for the night), when an older, pompous man checked in and was speaking english. I overheard the front desk tell him where to go for a strip club. About 45 minutes later, he came in with a lady scantily clad and a man, and they all walked over to the corner of the café, past where I was sitting. I couldn’t hear really well. The lady got up and went somewhere and the two men were talking for a while. All I heard was, “I am going to leave you now” and the second man got up and left, I will even suggest he was a pimp, and then shortly after the pompous man left the café. To go tend to the scantily clad girl? That was my thought. Soon after, a group of young men walked in and expressed to the front desk that their night could have been better. “How so?” Asked the front desk, and “how can we make it better?” I was thinking, what, do they promote this stuff or something? A few phone calls were made here and there and I heard “2:00 am”. I waited for it. Sure enough, at 2 am an attractive woman in high heels with a guard not far behind walked in the front door, and appeared to go upstairs. This was a 5* hotel I was in, not some 1 hour motel! I wanted to shake all those men and say, “what would your Mom think of you right now?” What an interesting, sketchy night this turned to be.
Spit (the island, that is)
On the last day, I was determined (and FINALLY had time) to venture out to the island of Spit for the last 4 hours until my bus to Vilnius. I walked down to the dock and bought the very inexpensive ticket for the 10 minute ferry ride to Spit. I walked through the nature (there was hardly anyone on the island!) and out to the Sea Museum where, to my dismay, I found out it was not open! People were going out but not in. I was so mad. All I wanted to do was go to the stinkin Sea Museum. I tried to ask the guard what was happening but he just waved his hand at me and walked away. Ahhhh so frustrating. At least I got a couple good pics of the seals playing in the water. For the rest of my time on the island, I did a lot of walking around. I walked through the woods for about 20 minutes (encountering no one on the way) until I reach the beachside and I was the only one on it for miles. Understandably so, though; it was cold and dreary out today. But still, it was a liberating feeling to be the only person there for miles.
I crawled out from the woods and took the ferry back in order to catch my boat. I had found a new taxi driver the day before who was awesome, and he spoke English very well and helped me out wherever he could. We said our goodbyes and he helped me get settled on my little bus to Vilnius. As I started to get comfortable, I snuggled into nap mode and was very happy I decided not to rent a car to take to Vilnius.
I crawled out from the woods and took the ferry back in order to catch my boat. I had found a new taxi driver the day before who was awesome, and he spoke English very well and helped me out wherever he could. We said our goodbyes and he helped me get settled on my little bus to Vilnius. As I started to get comfortable, I snuggled into nap mode and was very happy I decided not to rent a car to take to Vilnius.
Thank God for translators
The next day I went for a run. Beth had quickly inspired me through runs on the Tel Aviv boardwalk. I had no idea where I was going but I started from my hotel in Old Town, I ran to the other end (which took about 5 minutes) and then somehow found a reservoir. I ran around the reservoir about 4 times and watched the fishermen, listened to the croaks of the frogs and the sounds of nature, and observed a couple stumbling drunks before heading home to shower. It was a beautiful place to go for a nice quiet run with my ipod blaring.
Today my translator was coming. Then arrived a short, bald man probably in his late 30’s who had no idea what to expect. From the hotel, he understood that he was going to be accompanying me on a medical journey to visit doctors or something of that sort. Boy was he far from reality. He came up to my room and I explained to him that I wanted him to make phone calls and get prices for certain things. He was surprised, but agreed with no problems to go along with it; I WAS paying over $100/hr! He did a good job so I told him about my permission problems in the grocery store and I asked if he would like to help me out. He agreed. I went to the grocery store that night, called him, and we did the survey over the phone which took a good 3.5 hours but we DID it! When we met the next day to exchange information and additional money, he told me a little about the Soviet Union and how when his Mom was little, she and her family were deported to Serbia. Everything has changed significantly in the last 10 years or so, he said. It use to be that when US people came into Soviet territory (when Stalin was in charge) they were watched like hawks. He had some clients who had come here and he dared to take a trip with them they were prohibited to take because they wanted to visit ancestors. Another girl told me a story of how under the old government, people were always told what to do. Now, they say do it yourself. As much as I love democracy, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be a nobody who does things methodically because you have to, and then have to switch to suddenly, you’re on your own; go find out what you’re good at and good luck. If you don’t have the independence from the start, I’m sure it is very tough to gain it.
Today my translator was coming. Then arrived a short, bald man probably in his late 30’s who had no idea what to expect. From the hotel, he understood that he was going to be accompanying me on a medical journey to visit doctors or something of that sort. Boy was he far from reality. He came up to my room and I explained to him that I wanted him to make phone calls and get prices for certain things. He was surprised, but agreed with no problems to go along with it; I WAS paying over $100/hr! He did a good job so I told him about my permission problems in the grocery store and I asked if he would like to help me out. He agreed. I went to the grocery store that night, called him, and we did the survey over the phone which took a good 3.5 hours but we DID it! When we met the next day to exchange information and additional money, he told me a little about the Soviet Union and how when his Mom was little, she and her family were deported to Serbia. Everything has changed significantly in the last 10 years or so, he said. It use to be that when US people came into Soviet territory (when Stalin was in charge) they were watched like hawks. He had some clients who had come here and he dared to take a trip with them they were prohibited to take because they wanted to visit ancestors. Another girl told me a story of how under the old government, people were always told what to do. Now, they say do it yourself. As much as I love democracy, I can’t imagine how hard it must be to be a nobody who does things methodically because you have to, and then have to switch to suddenly, you’re on your own; go find out what you’re good at and good luck. If you don’t have the independence from the start, I’m sure it is very tough to gain it.
You speaka da english?
While eating a yummy dinner (salad with quail eggs and anchovies in it), I met a younger Lithuania who had studied at the American University here in Klaipeda. I didn’t even know there was one! He told me I should go, they would love me there haha. Unfortunately, I didn’t get a chance to. He also told me he had worked in Boston for a moving company two summers in a row. I didn’t believe him (especially because him and his friends were drunk and blowing horns all over town), but then when he started talking about the roads and towns in Boston, I was surprised. Him and his horn-blowing friends left (man I could hear this even in my hotel room into the wee hours, it was so annoying!) and as an after-dinner drink, I ordered a B-52. Little did I know that a B-52 was a shot that came flaming. I promptly, and a little embarrassed, blew it out and sipped on it. So lame.
My driver today was pretty awesome. He didn’t speak a word of English (what’s new) but he repeatedly called his poor friend who spoke English pretty well to be the go-between for the two of us. He really was trying his best to look out for me, and between the three of us, I even got a bus ticket for the right day and time to Vilnius for really cheap ($20, 3 hour drive – sounds like the Bolt Bus to NYC back home!) I hope his poor friend (over the phone) was already sitting there completely bored because we took up a good 2 hours of his time.
My driver today was pretty awesome. He didn’t speak a word of English (what’s new) but he repeatedly called his poor friend who spoke English pretty well to be the go-between for the two of us. He really was trying his best to look out for me, and between the three of us, I even got a bus ticket for the right day and time to Vilnius for really cheap ($20, 3 hour drive – sounds like the Bolt Bus to NYC back home!) I hope his poor friend (over the phone) was already sitting there completely bored because we took up a good 2 hours of his time.
Achoo very much
It was cold here, felt like Boston maybe a month ago (April). On my way home from the grocery store, the cabby ripped me off a bit. I was feeling a little discouraged here, even lonely, especially since finding someone who spoke English was very rare. But, as usual, time was, and would, go by very quickly with all the work there was left to be done. I hired a translator for Monday morning through the hotel, but man this was an expensive translator! It was about $100/hour.
I had bad dreams all last night and this morning, I woke up trying to yell “Dad!” Maybe I was missing the ‘rents.
The next day I ventured to the mall and I was very pleasantly surprised. The mall was very well developed, it even had an ice rink in the middle surrounded by restaurants so while you eat your unhealthy meal you can watch people fall on ice all over the place. But, I found that I had some major permission issues here. I started surveying with my book open in one of the grocery stores and was caught immediately and told to stop. The manager was suppose to meet me but did not, and when I went to look for her she was already gone. I couldn’t get permission until Monday and this was cutting it too close. I was going to have to stealth, which makes me so stressed out. I also, surprisingly, got kicked out immediately in a pharmacy (twice), trying to get prices for vitamin C. So frustrating! After leaving the mall the first day, I realized that I had a price tag stuck to my shoe when I took it off. Figures! Like I don’t see enough of them.
On the way out of the mall, I noticed the hype for the first time. While everyone was closing down and locking up, all the TV’s in the mall turned on and started blaring music. It was the Eurovision contest, which I had never heard of! Eurovision is the American Idol of the European countries; they all represent their countries and sing their hearts out for the crown. Once I left the mall, I found one of the recommended restaurants and watched while I ate my dinner. It was very entertaining and I gained a fondness for a couple of the songs, especially the one that won “I’m in Love with a Fairytale.”
My friend Emily (over facebook) left me a message that said “achoo” meant thank you in Lithuanian. That was going to be easy to remember!
I had bad dreams all last night and this morning, I woke up trying to yell “Dad!” Maybe I was missing the ‘rents.
The next day I ventured to the mall and I was very pleasantly surprised. The mall was very well developed, it even had an ice rink in the middle surrounded by restaurants so while you eat your unhealthy meal you can watch people fall on ice all over the place. But, I found that I had some major permission issues here. I started surveying with my book open in one of the grocery stores and was caught immediately and told to stop. The manager was suppose to meet me but did not, and when I went to look for her she was already gone. I couldn’t get permission until Monday and this was cutting it too close. I was going to have to stealth, which makes me so stressed out. I also, surprisingly, got kicked out immediately in a pharmacy (twice), trying to get prices for vitamin C. So frustrating! After leaving the mall the first day, I realized that I had a price tag stuck to my shoe when I took it off. Figures! Like I don’t see enough of them.
On the way out of the mall, I noticed the hype for the first time. While everyone was closing down and locking up, all the TV’s in the mall turned on and started blaring music. It was the Eurovision contest, which I had never heard of! Eurovision is the American Idol of the European countries; they all represent their countries and sing their hearts out for the crown. Once I left the mall, I found one of the recommended restaurants and watched while I ate my dinner. It was very entertaining and I gained a fondness for a couple of the songs, especially the one that won “I’m in Love with a Fairytale.”
My friend Emily (over facebook) left me a message that said “achoo” meant thank you in Lithuanian. That was going to be easy to remember!
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