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.
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