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!
Friday, August 7, 2009
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!
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