One time I was out by myself during the middle of the day in the city of Kololi, Gambia. There was a junction point that I was supposed to meet a friend at and I was having trouble finding it. It was somewhat busy around mid-day with many people out walking around going place to place on the dusty interconnected roads. I had gotten turned around a few times walking, to the point where I was totally lost.
Somewhat frustrated and slightly irritable at the time, I asked a lady passing with her daughter, "Do you known where the Tavan junction is?"
---She immediately went off on me, as she was visibly upset---
"I am a human being!! If you want to ask me a question, you have to greet me first, and ask me how I am doing, first!!"
Before I could think of a response, she turned to her daughter and said, "Come on let's go!"
...For at least the next few hours I was bothered by this encounter. I tried to explain to my friends when I finally reached back to my place later that day. I wanted to explain, in part to justify it and redeem it to myself. Maybe to hear them say that I had done nothing wrong.
I explained, "See in America everybody is busy and rushing, so if I stop someone I don't on there way and start going on there way when they are busy, they may be upset with me if I take up to much of their time with greetings; so we usually get quick and to the point, cause everyone is in a rush there."
My friend Sidia replied, "No... No... that is not the way in Gambia. Anytime you want anything from somebody, you have to first exchange greetings with them, ask them how they are doing...then you can tell them your problem, hey, where is such and such, or I need this or I need that, can you help me, and so on".
So my friend offered little comfort, and mostly reiterated the point of the angry woman earlier in that day; although my friend did it in much softer and helpful tone of course.
But the point was clear, and this incident serves as a much larger representation of Gambian life in contrast to American life. In America, people really are in a greater rush, and people don't generally introduce themselves to strangers. People are weary of taking up others times. Whereas, in the Gambia, Africa; time moves much slower. Time is not so much fixed with exact appointment times. People meet and greet strangers frequently, and many go about with a problem or question for others and there is a system in place for how you are to go about explaining your problem to others. This is part of the social fabric for greeting others, and questioning them about their condition.
In fact when Gambians meet they may go through a serious of questions and answers before getting to the point, such as, "How are you... How is your family... How is your health... how is your day... how is everything... please give my greetings to your family..."
The answer is usually simple, just stating that they are fine, that their family is fine... but still a bond is made through this questioning and greeting that is an important part of their daily lives.
...............
An anecdote about an incident that happened in a restaurant in Senegal.
While eating inside a restaurant in Senegal, this one poor fellow from the streets kept coming in and asking us for money and food. He came in several times, and finally without much being said, he ended up sitting beside my friend and eating right along with us, the food off of our plates. He was a little persistent and eventually he was welcomed to join.
Now imagine this in a nice American restaurant. A stranger coming in off the street to join you at your side at lunch, and even eating from off of your plate. You would never find that in America, yet such things are actually common in that part of Africa.
This speaks to the openness to strangers that exists in Africa, and also the intense sharing that goes on between people in the region.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
West African Instruments
Goree Island, famous historical slave Island of Senegal.
Here my friend charismatically explains West African culture and the importance of the various musical instruments to that culture. Most notably is the Kora instrument of Senegal/Gambia. The Kora is a traditional instrument that goes back centuries. The Kora is a 21-string bridged harp instrument. It is built from large calabash and covered with cow skin to make a resonator, resembling guitar.
Here my friend charismatically explains West African culture and the importance of the various musical instruments to that culture. Most notably is the Kora instrument of Senegal/Gambia. The Kora is a traditional instrument that goes back centuries. The Kora is a 21-string bridged harp instrument. It is built from large calabash and covered with cow skin to make a resonator, resembling guitar.
My Friends Silver Shop In Gambia
My friend Idrissa's work in Africa:
It's well-known that in West Africa they have high unemployment. Certainly there are a wide range of opinions as to why this is. The most condemning side of the spectrum would claim that West Africans are lazy, while an opposite side of the spectrum would claim it is a result of oppression and subjugation that was exacted during the Colonial Period.
Myself, I am still researching this subject. I can only point out a few observations I made on my own. I notice that the culture there is much more free in the spirit than what we have in the West. Many people there prefer to own their own businesses, from millionaire property and real-estate owners with College Degree's from the West, to small-time street vendors selling watermelon and kola nuts; African's are very Libertarian in spirit. They prefer to work for themselves and not others, and that certainly fits the culture there.
So in saying this, I think it would be harder to implement large scale factory work in this region of Africa, such as you would see in Asia. Where you have a business owner employing thousands in hard labor while they receive very small compensation for their work.Also it wouldn't be likely to see gigantic franchises in the region such as a Wall-Mart or a McDonalds; because the people prefer smaller, mom and pop shops and ownership to mass employers such as Wall-Mart.
Hard and sometimes dangerous work does take place in this region. For example in the neighboring country of Sierra Leonne people risk their safety and health diving for diamonds, and dig extensively in the heat in hopes of finding a diamond, but even many of these people, work for themselves.
So I think there is more of a free-flow to the culture. Where they are sometimes socialistic in their politics yet in their individual economic and social lives very Libertarian. It is quite a unique balance.
...As for my friend, once again; some could call him lazy. There is a very negative stereotype that is associated with people such as my friends by their detractors. They dub them as "Bumsters" and even the ruler of Gambia Yaya Jammeh gets made fun of and called "The Bumster King" by his detractors. Because my friend is viewed as a population of youth who sit idle at the beach all day long, lazy, socializing in the sun, drinking tea, and hustling tourists from day to day. They are accused of damaging the moral fabric of society and of not contributing positively as "citizens" of the country. They are associated rightly or wrongly with peddling marijuana and accused of living off Western women much older than them.
But from another perspective it is also these people that provide much to the culture of these regions. Growing up poor and having to independently seek their income, they have had to be much more creative to make it in the society. Their creativity and ambition has provided much to the social fibric of society, both internally, and in communication and welcoming outsiders to the country, whom they at times have to depend upon financially. They are conduits to the night life, and understand both the Western world and the deeper roots of their own culture. Because they serve as conduits to both. Depending on each other and depnding on outsiders to make it, they know the life of Africa more than anyone. They are the people who live with the most freedom, and it is likely that many of them have been pushed into such a life by necessity, and not simply a matter of enjoyment. Regardless, they do all kinds of odd jobs to come up with their money throughout the day.
My friends nickname around the Gambia was "Silver". His Muslim name is Idrissa, but mostly he prefers "Silver". And this is why, his work and family business has been in two things, cars and silver. So one of his brothers is a car mechanic, one is a driver for diplomats in the country, and he works in Silver.
Here I am picking up a necklace from my friend's silver shop. I wanted something that represented Africa and the personal growth I experience when in African. There was no better choice than the African Boubab tree. It is a well-known symbol of Africa. It is a wide tree, with strong roots and great beauty. It grows often in the upcountry. When I was sick with food poisoning I was regularly drinking Boubab juice, it is believed to be a remedy for nearly all ailments, from Malaria to other stomach, digestive conditions.
It's well-known that in West Africa they have high unemployment. Certainly there are a wide range of opinions as to why this is. The most condemning side of the spectrum would claim that West Africans are lazy, while an opposite side of the spectrum would claim it is a result of oppression and subjugation that was exacted during the Colonial Period.
Myself, I am still researching this subject. I can only point out a few observations I made on my own. I notice that the culture there is much more free in the spirit than what we have in the West. Many people there prefer to own their own businesses, from millionaire property and real-estate owners with College Degree's from the West, to small-time street vendors selling watermelon and kola nuts; African's are very Libertarian in spirit. They prefer to work for themselves and not others, and that certainly fits the culture there.
So in saying this, I think it would be harder to implement large scale factory work in this region of Africa, such as you would see in Asia. Where you have a business owner employing thousands in hard labor while they receive very small compensation for their work.Also it wouldn't be likely to see gigantic franchises in the region such as a Wall-Mart or a McDonalds; because the people prefer smaller, mom and pop shops and ownership to mass employers such as Wall-Mart.
Hard and sometimes dangerous work does take place in this region. For example in the neighboring country of Sierra Leonne people risk their safety and health diving for diamonds, and dig extensively in the heat in hopes of finding a diamond, but even many of these people, work for themselves.
So I think there is more of a free-flow to the culture. Where they are sometimes socialistic in their politics yet in their individual economic and social lives very Libertarian. It is quite a unique balance.
...As for my friend, once again; some could call him lazy. There is a very negative stereotype that is associated with people such as my friends by their detractors. They dub them as "Bumsters" and even the ruler of Gambia Yaya Jammeh gets made fun of and called "The Bumster King" by his detractors. Because my friend is viewed as a population of youth who sit idle at the beach all day long, lazy, socializing in the sun, drinking tea, and hustling tourists from day to day. They are accused of damaging the moral fabric of society and of not contributing positively as "citizens" of the country. They are associated rightly or wrongly with peddling marijuana and accused of living off Western women much older than them.
But from another perspective it is also these people that provide much to the culture of these regions. Growing up poor and having to independently seek their income, they have had to be much more creative to make it in the society. Their creativity and ambition has provided much to the social fibric of society, both internally, and in communication and welcoming outsiders to the country, whom they at times have to depend upon financially. They are conduits to the night life, and understand both the Western world and the deeper roots of their own culture. Because they serve as conduits to both. Depending on each other and depnding on outsiders to make it, they know the life of Africa more than anyone. They are the people who live with the most freedom, and it is likely that many of them have been pushed into such a life by necessity, and not simply a matter of enjoyment. Regardless, they do all kinds of odd jobs to come up with their money throughout the day.
My friends nickname around the Gambia was "Silver". His Muslim name is Idrissa, but mostly he prefers "Silver". And this is why, his work and family business has been in two things, cars and silver. So one of his brothers is a car mechanic, one is a driver for diplomats in the country, and he works in Silver.
Here I am picking up a necklace from my friend's silver shop. I wanted something that represented Africa and the personal growth I experience when in African. There was no better choice than the African Boubab tree. It is a well-known symbol of Africa. It is a wide tree, with strong roots and great beauty. It grows often in the upcountry. When I was sick with food poisoning I was regularly drinking Boubab juice, it is believed to be a remedy for nearly all ailments, from Malaria to other stomach, digestive conditions.
Senegalese/Gambian Music- Viviane Ndour
One of the best things about Senegal/Gambia is the music. Gambia is mostly Rasta/Reggae country. They were colonized by the British there, and with English being their official language, that makes Reggae music easy to listen to and understand for the people. They took to it very emphatically. I haven't been to many Sub-Saharan African countries, nor have I been to Jamaica, but still I would guess that their Reggae fans are as enthusiastic as any fans anywhere in the world. They truly love the music. And it was so refreshing to have one of them remind me to "listen closely to the words". Coming from America where all people care about is a catchy beat and a catchy hook, there is nothing more refreshing to me then to have someone silence me, have me "listen closely to the words" and even explain to me in detail what the artist is saying and the deeper meaning of the song. The lifestyle, and the heart and soul of the people really brings out the depth and substance of the Reggae music. I can't listen to Reggae back home in America, but when I'm in Africa I am more than happy to listen to it all day every day, because it moves in harmony with the lifestyle there. It's the push for positive thinking during times of worry and stress, and freeing the mind, and keeping a smile through it all... it is cliche in America but it is infectious in Africa; and it actually works there because people are closely related and care about one another.
Senegal, on the other hand was colonized by the French. I don't find many French styles of music, there, so they generally look internally, and have created their own styles of music and dance. The music is performed mostly in the indigenous Wolof language. The sound involves a lot of drumming, and an overall fullness of sound. One term used to describe it for people familiar with the region is Mbalax. And Viviane Ndour is my favorite artist, and she is called the "Queen of Mbalax".
Viviane Ndour apparently came up in the music industry through a connection with Senegal's internationally recognized superstar Yousou Ndour. People in the West may remember Yousou Ndour through his African tribute album in the early 90's and the epic song he did with Peter Gabrielle "In Your Eyes", that he performed with him all over the world. Nothing says Senegalese/African culture like Yousou Ndour. He is a huge Icon in the region.
So Viviane Ndour may have came up under Yousou Ndour's stardom as a back-up singer but she is certainly a gigantic star in her own right. Her style is certainly more updated and involves elements of hip-hop and American R&B. She even recognizes Aaliyah as one of her inspirations in music. The first time she heard "Are You Somebody" she actually thought it was a Senegalese song, because the sounds in the song are similar to those of Senegalese music. She did her own remix version of the song and it is excellent like all of her work.
She is half-Lebanese and half-Senegalese. A Senegalese mother and a Lebanese father. Yet I don't find much Lebanese influence in her music. Lebanese people, unlike the Mauritanian Arabs of Senegal/Gambia have integrated and immersed themselves in the region and appear to have become one with the natives.
I went to three Viviane shows in Gambia. Lucky for me she was promoting a new album at the time. So she made her stops in Gambia right around New Years Eve. I cut short all my plans and spent all 3 of my last nights in the country going around to her shows.
Her first show was at a Hotel in Gambia, and it was called a Gala Dinner. Very expensive with the cheapest tickets going for around 70$ US dollars and most expensive tickets for like $500 dollars; on top of that people would go on stage during her show and throw loads of money onto her, which is an old tradition in that region of Africa, to get on stage and dance with performers and even throw money on them.
The second night she performed at the most popular nightclub in Gambia called Club Duplex. The club was jam-packed, and inspite of the discouragement of my friends I went early (Africans never seem to want to go early to anything) and I was lucky enough to be in the front row because I went early. First people danced and they played music until the opening acts were ready to take the stage. The club kind of takes it's influences from an American club, it has two floors with a VIP section upstairs. They played some pretty great songs though before the show, one song that was really a huge hit for me during my time there was "Hold You" by Gyptian and that track really hit me that night. Also, they bumped Viviane Ndour's hit from the previous year "Amor" with Phillip Montenegro and even before the opening acts had even made it to the stage I was already feeling the night.
When the artists finally took the stage well after 12pm the MC for the night assured the people Viviane would rock the house till 5Am. Loads of people bouncing off each other like a mosh pit throughout the show because of the crowd. Sweating and thirsty people fought over water bottles handed out by the band during the show. I got up and danced on stage, and was started to get comfortable with the Senegalese style of dancing. Many people were jumping up to dance on stage, as they had the previous night. Once again they encouraged me to go up there, and people got a kick out of seeing a white person on stage like that. Viviane's performance was spectacular and the night was great. She rocked the club till 4am bringing in the New Year.
The last night she performed at a place called Dream Park, which is a small amusement park for kids. Many kids were at the show and in the front row, so this night I kind of kicked back with my friends and just watched the show. It wasn't intense like the previous night, but more fun for the kids. A lot of little kids got on stage and did their dances, and it was very impressive and entertaining to see. The show was a lot of fun. This picture is of Adama and I on the side of the stage/middle enjoying the show.
Senegal, on the other hand was colonized by the French. I don't find many French styles of music, there, so they generally look internally, and have created their own styles of music and dance. The music is performed mostly in the indigenous Wolof language. The sound involves a lot of drumming, and an overall fullness of sound. One term used to describe it for people familiar with the region is Mbalax. And Viviane Ndour is my favorite artist, and she is called the "Queen of Mbalax".
Viviane Ndour apparently came up in the music industry through a connection with Senegal's internationally recognized superstar Yousou Ndour. People in the West may remember Yousou Ndour through his African tribute album in the early 90's and the epic song he did with Peter Gabrielle "In Your Eyes", that he performed with him all over the world. Nothing says Senegalese/African culture like Yousou Ndour. He is a huge Icon in the region.
So Viviane Ndour may have came up under Yousou Ndour's stardom as a back-up singer but she is certainly a gigantic star in her own right. Her style is certainly more updated and involves elements of hip-hop and American R&B. She even recognizes Aaliyah as one of her inspirations in music. The first time she heard "Are You Somebody" she actually thought it was a Senegalese song, because the sounds in the song are similar to those of Senegalese music. She did her own remix version of the song and it is excellent like all of her work.
She is half-Lebanese and half-Senegalese. A Senegalese mother and a Lebanese father. Yet I don't find much Lebanese influence in her music. Lebanese people, unlike the Mauritanian Arabs of Senegal/Gambia have integrated and immersed themselves in the region and appear to have become one with the natives.
I went to three Viviane shows in Gambia. Lucky for me she was promoting a new album at the time. So she made her stops in Gambia right around New Years Eve. I cut short all my plans and spent all 3 of my last nights in the country going around to her shows.
Her first show was at a Hotel in Gambia, and it was called a Gala Dinner. Very expensive with the cheapest tickets going for around 70$ US dollars and most expensive tickets for like $500 dollars; on top of that people would go on stage during her show and throw loads of money onto her, which is an old tradition in that region of Africa, to get on stage and dance with performers and even throw money on them.
The second night she performed at the most popular nightclub in Gambia called Club Duplex. The club was jam-packed, and inspite of the discouragement of my friends I went early (Africans never seem to want to go early to anything) and I was lucky enough to be in the front row because I went early. First people danced and they played music until the opening acts were ready to take the stage. The club kind of takes it's influences from an American club, it has two floors with a VIP section upstairs. They played some pretty great songs though before the show, one song that was really a huge hit for me during my time there was "Hold You" by Gyptian and that track really hit me that night. Also, they bumped Viviane Ndour's hit from the previous year "Amor" with Phillip Montenegro and even before the opening acts had even made it to the stage I was already feeling the night.
When the artists finally took the stage well after 12pm the MC for the night assured the people Viviane would rock the house till 5Am. Loads of people bouncing off each other like a mosh pit throughout the show because of the crowd. Sweating and thirsty people fought over water bottles handed out by the band during the show. I got up and danced on stage, and was started to get comfortable with the Senegalese style of dancing. Many people were jumping up to dance on stage, as they had the previous night. Once again they encouraged me to go up there, and people got a kick out of seeing a white person on stage like that. Viviane's performance was spectacular and the night was great. She rocked the club till 4am bringing in the New Year.
The last night she performed at a place called Dream Park, which is a small amusement park for kids. Many kids were at the show and in the front row, so this night I kind of kicked back with my friends and just watched the show. It wasn't intense like the previous night, but more fun for the kids. A lot of little kids got on stage and did their dances, and it was very impressive and entertaining to see. The show was a lot of fun. This picture is of Adama and I on the side of the stage/middle enjoying the show.
The Upcountry, African Village life
The upcountry, village life of Africa was much different than I expected. People associate African villages with poverty, and I guess for some reason I pictured really hard working people with very hard lives. What I found was a lot of people sitting around with a lot of free time on their hands. I didn't see hard work. It was explained to me that it was a slow time of year, and that that was why I didn't see hard work. That in certain seasons they may be planting or working their farms and that you would see hard work. But for whatever it's worth, I didn't see it when I was there. I saw a lot of sitting around, and found a great deal of boredom in the upcountry.
I started the trip by arriving at my friends family home. They were older people, very friendly, they had a nice home, it had a television inside which may surprise people. In fact, their home was much larger and better furnished then my best friends family home back in the city. His uncles, grandparents, extended family there didn't seem any different from his family back in the cities. In fact most people who live in the upcountry travel back and forth between the country and the city. On our way back we brought his step-father with us.
The young man who took us around in the upcountry, basically grows Kola nuts in the upcountry for a time, then loads them up into a truck and takes them into the city at another time and sells them. So the life is back and forth for these people, from the village to the city.
Sure, there were some really authentic things in the villages that really let you know you were in an "African village". Such symbols of village African life as the straw huts, and people riding on donkeys were certainly still a part of daily life there.
One of Idrissa's cousins had his own small farm/garden that we spent some time in. He complained about the irrigation and spent hours hustling me about his problem of needing a water pump or something like that but I was only half paying attention. Because I am not a wealthy person or even middle class really. So I'm not really in position to help many more people then just my friend Idrissa and very very few others. But he hustled me without end. They have a bad habit especially in the villages of drinking palm wine. They will even try to claim that it is healthy and that it doesn't contain the harmful affects of alcohol, as alcohol is generally disliked amongst Muslims. Yet this cousin of Idrissa's the more he would drink that palm wine the more aggressive he was in hustling me about getting some kind of water pump or something of the like so that he could water his farm when the rain failed to come. I was half-asleep the whole time I was in the upcountry, and not really fully conscious of what he was saying. The village life had made me extremely lazy. I ate and ate and ate some more. And sat, and sat, and sat some more. Trying to understand the mostly Wolof language conversations that surrounded me.
Finally we left after 4 days in the village, upcountry, but I did not leave without food poisoning and couldn't eat for almost two days after that. All the idle time sitting and eating had slowed my digestive system and the food refused to "go down".
I was sick for two days after that trip and only earbs and boubab juice got me by during those two days. Alhamdulillah for the Boubab tree and Jah bless for the earbs.
I almost forget in my half-conscious state I was actually thrown a party on my last night in the upcountry. It's kind of a tradition when the guests come. I did have to pay a little money for the drummers, but once the drummers started playing many of the people from the village came out to the location and there were probably nearly 100 people there. I felt very overwhelmed and even a little uncomfortable. All that for me, and I couldn't even decide if I was truly enjoying myself there. The lead drummer was trying everything to get me excited and dancing and having a good time, and God bless him for that.
But I just couldn't get into it, feeling so tired and lazy during my days in the upcountry.
I started the trip by arriving at my friends family home. They were older people, very friendly, they had a nice home, it had a television inside which may surprise people. In fact, their home was much larger and better furnished then my best friends family home back in the city. His uncles, grandparents, extended family there didn't seem any different from his family back in the cities. In fact most people who live in the upcountry travel back and forth between the country and the city. On our way back we brought his step-father with us.
The young man who took us around in the upcountry, basically grows Kola nuts in the upcountry for a time, then loads them up into a truck and takes them into the city at another time and sells them. So the life is back and forth for these people, from the village to the city.
Sure, there were some really authentic things in the villages that really let you know you were in an "African village". Such symbols of village African life as the straw huts, and people riding on donkeys were certainly still a part of daily life there.
One of Idrissa's cousins had his own small farm/garden that we spent some time in. He complained about the irrigation and spent hours hustling me about his problem of needing a water pump or something like that but I was only half paying attention. Because I am not a wealthy person or even middle class really. So I'm not really in position to help many more people then just my friend Idrissa and very very few others. But he hustled me without end. They have a bad habit especially in the villages of drinking palm wine. They will even try to claim that it is healthy and that it doesn't contain the harmful affects of alcohol, as alcohol is generally disliked amongst Muslims. Yet this cousin of Idrissa's the more he would drink that palm wine the more aggressive he was in hustling me about getting some kind of water pump or something of the like so that he could water his farm when the rain failed to come. I was half-asleep the whole time I was in the upcountry, and not really fully conscious of what he was saying. The village life had made me extremely lazy. I ate and ate and ate some more. And sat, and sat, and sat some more. Trying to understand the mostly Wolof language conversations that surrounded me.
Finally we left after 4 days in the village, upcountry, but I did not leave without food poisoning and couldn't eat for almost two days after that. All the idle time sitting and eating had slowed my digestive system and the food refused to "go down".
I was sick for two days after that trip and only earbs and boubab juice got me by during those two days. Alhamdulillah for the Boubab tree and Jah bless for the earbs.
I almost forget in my half-conscious state I was actually thrown a party on my last night in the upcountry. It's kind of a tradition when the guests come. I did have to pay a little money for the drummers, but once the drummers started playing many of the people from the village came out to the location and there were probably nearly 100 people there. I felt very overwhelmed and even a little uncomfortable. All that for me, and I couldn't even decide if I was truly enjoying myself there. The lead drummer was trying everything to get me excited and dancing and having a good time, and God bless him for that.
But I just couldn't get into it, feeling so tired and lazy during my days in the upcountry.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
"Free Up"
Imagine if you were running alone in the middle of the Sahara. Suddenly, the location of all your thoughts and emotions would become clear. There is no longer the entanglements of modern life, and any happiness, bitterness, joy, or pain you will find exists somewhere inside of you, in your mind, heart, body, soul. Yet still God has chosen you to exist, and in spite of it all, there you are alone jogging in the Sahara and interacting with the environment. Somewhere in that you find yourself. That's how I would describe my feelings on mornings I had the chance to jog the beach of the Atlantic ocean at sunrise.
For people familiar with the region, on a good day I would jog all the way from Senegambia up to the Sheraton Hotel. I think it was maybe approximately 8 miles.
Along the way there would be other young guys training along the beach. It seems a typical day for many Gambian men consisted of early morning training at the beach just after sunrise. They are big into calisthenics, and any athletic training that improves flexibility, strength, agility, and skills used to perform at a high level in the sport of soccer.
Because some would train in the morning, then during the day, they would perform some work. Then by the time the sun began to fall they would be back at the beach for soccer matches that were scattered out all across that coast of Gambia around the Serrakunda region.
Generally the best way they describe their methods of training, and the phrase I find most fitting is "Free Up". They would always describe their training as "Freeing Up" the body. They turn, twist, jump, even shout, roll their heads, swing their arms, and so on... all to "free up" the body.. and often it frees the mind as well. And what better place to do it then overlooking an endless ocean on the Atlantic Coast.
For people familiar with the region, on a good day I would jog all the way from Senegambia up to the Sheraton Hotel. I think it was maybe approximately 8 miles.
Along the way there would be other young guys training along the beach. It seems a typical day for many Gambian men consisted of early morning training at the beach just after sunrise. They are big into calisthenics, and any athletic training that improves flexibility, strength, agility, and skills used to perform at a high level in the sport of soccer.
Because some would train in the morning, then during the day, they would perform some work. Then by the time the sun began to fall they would be back at the beach for soccer matches that were scattered out all across that coast of Gambia around the Serrakunda region.
Generally the best way they describe their methods of training, and the phrase I find most fitting is "Free Up". They would always describe their training as "Freeing Up" the body. They turn, twist, jump, even shout, roll their heads, swing their arms, and so on... all to "free up" the body.. and often it frees the mind as well. And what better place to do it then overlooking an endless ocean on the Atlantic Coast.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Flow- One Week to Departure
Just trying to get back into the flow of things. Author James Redfield writes about how we all follow a path in life, and how it is important for us to stay conscious of divine coincidences to push our personal evolution forward. So I'm starting to get back into the flow of things with just a week till departure.
I'm feeling the energy of my upcoming trip as it approaches me, and as I draw closer to departure I'm starting to take notice of coincidences surrounding me. Thoughts that have rested in the mud of my mind, have now emerged to the front and center. Lingering issues and questions are surfacing. People who were mere acquaintances are now becoming key figures in my life.
I've been slowly keeping up with all my contacts during my time away. But now my contacts here in the states and in Africa have been mobilized. Some friendships will stay the same, some will be forgotten, and I hope that most are being enhanced with every passing moment as my trip approaches and is giving life.
I'm feeling the energy of my upcoming trip as it approaches me, and as I draw closer to departure I'm starting to take notice of coincidences surrounding me. Thoughts that have rested in the mud of my mind, have now emerged to the front and center. Lingering issues and questions are surfacing. People who were mere acquaintances are now becoming key figures in my life.
I've been slowly keeping up with all my contacts during my time away. But now my contacts here in the states and in Africa have been mobilized. Some friendships will stay the same, some will be forgotten, and I hope that most are being enhanced with every passing moment as my trip approaches and is giving life.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Recap
My path, my place, my life, my love, my writing, my reading... just seeing the sun.
I remember this feeling
I felt it before...
It's like a child
when he first realizes he's "alive".
...That is a little something I wrote upon my arrival in Africa. It gives you a feeling of Deja-Vu, because the environment is so new and different, you can actually feel like a kid again. Another reason Africa has this affect is that before my generation became adults and isolated ourselves with ipods and iphones, we used to be out in the heat, sweating all day. In Africa even when your inside you are really outside. Air conditioning is rare, and homes and shops are not the closed and locked fortresses we find in America.
The first song I listened to was "Breathe" by Nas. He is one of my favorite rappers, and his new album didn't vibe with me as much as I had hoped. So I just put it away for a month or so, and waited till I was in a new environment to see if it opened my senses. And it did. Because when we listen to music its often the images they produce in our mind that make the song enjoyable to us. So I needed some new sights and sounds and memories.
But soon I would be looking forward to ditching my American music and trying on some new sounds of Gambia and Senegal. I was reminded of an interview I read by Nas' father in which he said the world would be a sad place without music. That music was how we communicate, and if you want to know the history of a people then listen to their music.
More then anything else I listen to the music and sounds of Africa when I'm there.
Friday, October 30, 2009
Saly, Senegal
A lot of people had recommended I see Saly while I was in Senegal. The beaches in Saly were immaculate, as you can see in the pictures. They are tended to daily by the hotel staffs that work the beach and also heavily patrolled in a way the Gambian beaches are not. There is an upside and and downside to this, as I will go into...
I remember the last day I tried to go to the beach in Gambia. It was unusually cloudy that day, but it was my last available day for going to the beach there so I was determined to make the most of it. When I arrived the beaches were FLOODED with people. You could hardly walk. Basically what I found out was that there was one day a week when Gambian locals were free to spend their day at the beach, and the rest of the week the beaches were primarily for tourists and Gambians who worked along there. However throughout the week you will still find locals who don't have liscence to be there. Some are treated harshly, for example I've heard when the soldiers decide to they will take in some of the Rasta's hanging along the beach and chop off their dreadlocks leaving them bald. But the good news is many pass freely. I say good news because they really add to the culture and atmosphere along the beach. It would be lonely with just tourists.
A lot of times in Africa they have laws just the same as we have in America, the difference is a lack of resources and organization to enforce those laws at times.
Anyway, in Saly, Senegal the beach is beautiful, yet lonely. it is perserved mostly for tourists. They don't take kindly to locals hanging around. There was a time in gambia and senegal, just 10 short years ago when tourists rarely came and couldn't even walk the beach freely without being harassed and hustled every step of the way.
I visited some of the local shops in Saly. I stopped at an internet café to check my flight schedule, but it was no luck on those french keyboards were kind of frustrating.
I arrived at the beach and took some pics and video's, swam in the ocean to cool off at sunset, stopped at a restaurant just offshore over the ocean.
The hotel I stayed at in Saly for a night was easily the most comparable to what you find in an American hotel, as far as air conditioning, cleanliness, toilet, shower, even television. The top was made of straw so they all looked like about 20 individual cottage huts surrounding the lobby and swimming pool.
The only thing that it was lacking by American standards was a cash register, I remember I had to look around for a clerk, and nobody really seemed interested in taking my money. I told one of the staff I'd just leave the money on a table there in the lobby and he just kind of shook his head that that was okay and wandered off in another direction.
Anyway, I was grateful for the hotel because it allowed me to get cleaned up well and sufficient sleep, because I had a long trip ahead of me back to America.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
I Get 2 days In Senegal Before Leaving
Accompanied only now by my friend Idiboy, I would leave Gambia for Senegal. Idiboy told me on the way back with a sigh,
"It's going to be different going back to Gambia (after dropping you off at the Senegal airport). And I know your going to feel it when your headed back to America."
What he meant was him and I had been like brothers for a month straight, hanging real tight everyday. I could picture him and I making our way back to our respective homes, him in Gambia, myself in America, both feeling the void seperation from a dear friend.
***************
In Senegal, once again we visited the home of my friend from back in America, Shiek: and ate and relaxed there with some of his family and their friends, Khady, Ibrahim, Matee, and the many people coming and going from their home, which also housed a salon that Shieks wife had bought for the family to have work.
There we were met by idiboy's cousin Dawda who rolled up on a motorbike, and appeared angry...
"You are bad", he said. "I've been calling you guys, you never call back, or anything."
I tried to explain, he argued with idiboy briefly in Wolof, told me he about some difficulties he was having at work that day, but promised hed try to get off early so he could spend the evening with us.
He made good on that promise and that evening and night we went to see the capital biuldings of Dakar, Senegal. On the way we stopped for something very important to me. I had to get a cd of the music i'd been hearing throughout my trip. Something I could listen to in America when I wanted to escape into my memories of Africa. One song had been playing everywhere we went, from cell-phones to ringtones, and car speakers everywhere and that was Titi "Musica". Also I had to get some songs from my favorite Senegalese artist Viviane Ndour. It seemed like Titi was the alternative for people who had grew tired of Vivianes overexposure, but for me being a tourist I didn't feel that way and it was clear to me Viviane was the number 1 artist in the country. Ofcourse Yosou Ndour is the most popular choice of the locals young and old in Senegal and Gambia, and also their most well-know artist worldwide. He even appeared on the Bullworth soundtrack with Wyclef John and Canibus (a soundtrack I'd actually had since 1998 when it came out, but of course I knew nothing of him then, or of Senegal. It was interesting to realize Id actually listened to him years earlier). Still though, for me Viviane Ndour is the number 1 musical artist of Senegal and Gambia.
But getting the music wasn't easy. its not like going into best buy in America and looking up the album.
There everything is bootlegged, so a record store is a very small, messy place, where the owner digs and digs for a half hour to hopefully come up with what your looking for. Then idiboy and Dawda insisted he play it for us to make sure it was what he said it was, then there was arguing over the price, and so on.
In the meanwhile some guys were hustling me, telling me to come with them and that my friends were bad, "lol". Like I would just take the word of a group of strangers and leave my friends Id been with all along.
Anyway finally we left there and got a bite to eat at a lebanese resteraunt. There is and has been for a long time a thriving lebanese community in Senegal. I was impressed to see how fluent the store owner was in Wolof, he was really like one of them.
We sat for dinner and listened to some songs on Dawda's cell-phone. I shared a nice moment with Dawda in which I told him it was nice to know whenever I came to Senegal I had a good friend I could trust. We all talked about future plans and all the things we wanted to do in gambia and Senegal in years to come. Dawda said, "Yes, idiboy and I fight and argue, weve always been like that, but he is my boy, we used to be in the village together..."
They told me some stories of their youth, Dawda had me visit with his mom on the phone and I promised Id visit the family next time I came.
We visited the capital biuldings of Senegal, and then made our way to the aiport around 10pm at night.
"It's going to be different going back to Gambia (after dropping you off at the Senegal airport). And I know your going to feel it when your headed back to America."
What he meant was him and I had been like brothers for a month straight, hanging real tight everyday. I could picture him and I making our way back to our respective homes, him in Gambia, myself in America, both feeling the void seperation from a dear friend.
***************
In Senegal, once again we visited the home of my friend from back in America, Shiek: and ate and relaxed there with some of his family and their friends, Khady, Ibrahim, Matee, and the many people coming and going from their home, which also housed a salon that Shieks wife had bought for the family to have work.
There we were met by idiboy's cousin Dawda who rolled up on a motorbike, and appeared angry...
"You are bad", he said. "I've been calling you guys, you never call back, or anything."
I tried to explain, he argued with idiboy briefly in Wolof, told me he about some difficulties he was having at work that day, but promised hed try to get off early so he could spend the evening with us.
He made good on that promise and that evening and night we went to see the capital biuldings of Dakar, Senegal. On the way we stopped for something very important to me. I had to get a cd of the music i'd been hearing throughout my trip. Something I could listen to in America when I wanted to escape into my memories of Africa. One song had been playing everywhere we went, from cell-phones to ringtones, and car speakers everywhere and that was Titi "Musica". Also I had to get some songs from my favorite Senegalese artist Viviane Ndour. It seemed like Titi was the alternative for people who had grew tired of Vivianes overexposure, but for me being a tourist I didn't feel that way and it was clear to me Viviane was the number 1 artist in the country. Ofcourse Yosou Ndour is the most popular choice of the locals young and old in Senegal and Gambia, and also their most well-know artist worldwide. He even appeared on the Bullworth soundtrack with Wyclef John and Canibus (a soundtrack I'd actually had since 1998 when it came out, but of course I knew nothing of him then, or of Senegal. It was interesting to realize Id actually listened to him years earlier). Still though, for me Viviane Ndour is the number 1 musical artist of Senegal and Gambia.
But getting the music wasn't easy. its not like going into best buy in America and looking up the album.
There everything is bootlegged, so a record store is a very small, messy place, where the owner digs and digs for a half hour to hopefully come up with what your looking for. Then idiboy and Dawda insisted he play it for us to make sure it was what he said it was, then there was arguing over the price, and so on.
In the meanwhile some guys were hustling me, telling me to come with them and that my friends were bad, "lol". Like I would just take the word of a group of strangers and leave my friends Id been with all along.
Anyway finally we left there and got a bite to eat at a lebanese resteraunt. There is and has been for a long time a thriving lebanese community in Senegal. I was impressed to see how fluent the store owner was in Wolof, he was really like one of them.
We sat for dinner and listened to some songs on Dawda's cell-phone. I shared a nice moment with Dawda in which I told him it was nice to know whenever I came to Senegal I had a good friend I could trust. We all talked about future plans and all the things we wanted to do in gambia and Senegal in years to come. Dawda said, "Yes, idiboy and I fight and argue, weve always been like that, but he is my boy, we used to be in the village together..."
They told me some stories of their youth, Dawda had me visit with his mom on the phone and I promised Id visit the family next time I came.
We visited the capital biuldings of Senegal, and then made our way to the aiport around 10pm at night.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
Leaving Gambia, Destination Senegal
There we are. Crowded onto the bus. Headed back to Senegal. Ironically we had the exact same bus driver as we had coming into to Gambia. We just barely caught the bus. If you don't catch the bus it's bad news, because then you have to ride in these group cars that always break down. I had to deal with that in 07'.
Friday, October 23, 2009
The Afterparty, Reggae Night On The Beach!
It was clear during my going away party at the guesthouse that Idiboy had some catching up to do with his old mates. We had a plan to all head to off to Reggae night. I was ready to go, and had a friend that I was going to go visit and bring to the Sizzla. Normally, this hour of night he wouldn't think it safe for me to walk alone all the way to the beach (which was about a 30 minute walk or so). But he was so involved with hanging with his old mates catching up, that he told me I could go on ahead. It was fine with me, to me there was something special about walking alone there at night, alone with my own thoughts, and being free enough to make my own movements. It's something that makes you feel like a true Gambian, African. You want to be able to just soak up the atmosphere and be in harmony with everything around you. So I set out on my own for the beach and Reggae Night.
I walked to the main road, took a taxi to meet up with my friends group halfway to Fajura. Stopped by my friends house, we went to a low key resteraunt in Fajura for a couple minutes, and then it was off to the Sizzla for Reggae Night. There's no rush in getting there. It probably starts around 9 but most people don't arrive till midnight, then it runs deep into the night till around 3am in the morning.
This is at Bailey's for Reggae Night. For some reason they call it "The Sizzla". But Sizzla is actually a popular Reggae group in Jamaica so this causes confusion. When you come back home to America and meet people familiar with Reggae music or Gambia and you tell them while you were in Africa you went to Reggae night at the Sizzla they think you went to a Sizzla concert because along with many popular Reggae groups from Jamaica they actually travel to Gambia and perform at major concert events. Also, Sizzla is not the name of the place, it is Bailey's.
But anyway, I digress... Reggae night at the beach the biggest night for the Rasta boys in Gambia. They go crazy for these shows and know nearly all the words to the songs, very passionate about the music and lifestyle. The men outnumber the women there probably 4 to 1. I thought it was kind of interesting, because I remember when hip-hop in the 90's used to be dominated by a strictly male fanbase. Sure there were female fans, but the male fans dictated the direction of the record sales and culture. Then it seemed in the late 90's all the rap artists started to realize that females were buying more records then men. So artists started to care less about their craft, and the music making process, and more about their image as a sex symbol and simply making a catchy dance tune. To the point where now hip-hop in America is dead, or has become something alltogether different from what it was in the 80's and 90's.
I remember the DJ's name at the Reggae night was DJ Obama. This was the month when Obama had just won presidency and all of Africa was in celebration, as Obama's father is an African Muslim man from Kenya. There in Gambia, at the Reggae night, a popular song was a simple tune, who's chorus went,
"Barack Obama, Barack Obama, Barack Obama, OYYY OYY, OYYY OYYY".
Very simple, but in the Gambia the song blew up, because it came at the right time! In Africa it's a shared experience for events that happen. For example, in America when somebody like Michael Jackson dies, you can ride around in your car and listen to his songs, and most people will look at you funny. I mean, sure, people were watching Michael Jackson footage on TV, and listening to it in headphones, and talk and argue over whether he was good or bad on occasion. But there was no shared experience. In Gambia, on the other hand, in 07' when I was there when Lucky Dube died, if you drove around listening to his music, people might see you and put a hand over there heart, but definitely nobody would look at you strange. Wherever you'd go you'd hear his music outloud and people would talk about him with a shared passion and sympathy.
Here you can see how the cars just pull up on the sand close to the beach. Again, I apologize, my camera doesn't catch footage well at night. You can barely see me walk in front of the lights of the cars in my African clothes. Atleast I stand out for being white. There were a few tourists at Reggae Night here and there, mostly European and they seemed to enjoy themselves. The stage where the DJ plays the tune is maybe a couple hundred yards from the Atlantic Ocean, so everytime I go I never forget to go chill by the ocean, listen to the tunes, and catch the view of the moon laying a thousand diamonds across the ocean. Pure beauty. Perfect weather, climate, sounds.
I walked to the main road, took a taxi to meet up with my friends group halfway to Fajura. Stopped by my friends house, we went to a low key resteraunt in Fajura for a couple minutes, and then it was off to the Sizzla for Reggae Night. There's no rush in getting there. It probably starts around 9 but most people don't arrive till midnight, then it runs deep into the night till around 3am in the morning.
This is at Bailey's for Reggae Night. For some reason they call it "The Sizzla". But Sizzla is actually a popular Reggae group in Jamaica so this causes confusion. When you come back home to America and meet people familiar with Reggae music or Gambia and you tell them while you were in Africa you went to Reggae night at the Sizzla they think you went to a Sizzla concert because along with many popular Reggae groups from Jamaica they actually travel to Gambia and perform at major concert events. Also, Sizzla is not the name of the place, it is Bailey's.
But anyway, I digress... Reggae night at the beach the biggest night for the Rasta boys in Gambia. They go crazy for these shows and know nearly all the words to the songs, very passionate about the music and lifestyle. The men outnumber the women there probably 4 to 1. I thought it was kind of interesting, because I remember when hip-hop in the 90's used to be dominated by a strictly male fanbase. Sure there were female fans, but the male fans dictated the direction of the record sales and culture. Then it seemed in the late 90's all the rap artists started to realize that females were buying more records then men. So artists started to care less about their craft, and the music making process, and more about their image as a sex symbol and simply making a catchy dance tune. To the point where now hip-hop in America is dead, or has become something alltogether different from what it was in the 80's and 90's.
I remember the DJ's name at the Reggae night was DJ Obama. This was the month when Obama had just won presidency and all of Africa was in celebration, as Obama's father is an African Muslim man from Kenya. There in Gambia, at the Reggae night, a popular song was a simple tune, who's chorus went,
"Barack Obama, Barack Obama, Barack Obama, OYYY OYY, OYYY OYYY".
Very simple, but in the Gambia the song blew up, because it came at the right time! In Africa it's a shared experience for events that happen. For example, in America when somebody like Michael Jackson dies, you can ride around in your car and listen to his songs, and most people will look at you funny. I mean, sure, people were watching Michael Jackson footage on TV, and listening to it in headphones, and talk and argue over whether he was good or bad on occasion. But there was no shared experience. In Gambia, on the other hand, in 07' when I was there when Lucky Dube died, if you drove around listening to his music, people might see you and put a hand over there heart, but definitely nobody would look at you strange. Wherever you'd go you'd hear his music outloud and people would talk about him with a shared passion and sympathy.
Here you can see how the cars just pull up on the sand close to the beach. Again, I apologize, my camera doesn't catch footage well at night. You can barely see me walk in front of the lights of the cars in my African clothes. Atleast I stand out for being white. There were a few tourists at Reggae Night here and there, mostly European and they seemed to enjoy themselves. The stage where the DJ plays the tune is maybe a couple hundred yards from the Atlantic Ocean, so everytime I go I never forget to go chill by the ocean, listen to the tunes, and catch the view of the moon laying a thousand diamonds across the ocean. Pure beauty. Perfect weather, climate, sounds.
My Going Away Party
Everyone slowly starts to gather for my going away party. It started off slow, but would end up being my greatest night in Africa. Throughout the month, Idiboy would both purposely and randomnly run into his old friends from the village where he grew up. His childhood friends were spread around in different parts of the city. As we came across them one by one he would tell them, "At the end of this month before he leaves, we're going to have a party for him, so we can send him off... proper way." There were drinks for the people that wanted to drink, smoke for the Rasta's, and a slaughtered goat for all. Idiboy had appointed his brother in charge of gathering all the things for the party. There were side dishes to go along with the goat, such as chicken, rice and so on. In the days leading up I remember seeing the goat outside our guest house. It hung out a couple days before it was slaughtered.
"Would you like to come out and see your goat"- Idiboy said the first day it was brought to the spot
It was a fine goat. Sidi, the owner of the 4 guesthouses also lived on the property along with some of his people, and we all took part in preparing the food and festivities throughout the day.
When the goat was finally ready that night I was anxious to eat. I had kept my stomach empty thoughout the day in anticipation of that goat. However, Idiboy was serving to everyone, and he gave me very little of that goat. It was then that I kind of realized that it was really important to him to show his old village-mates a good time that night, and make them happy; how it was a big deal for all of them spending the evening with each other after so much time apart. I appreciated that the night wasn't just a big deal for me, but for everyone involved. One of the guys there said something very nice to me during the party as we were sitting next to each other listening to the drums...
"We will never ever forget this night."
That comment really meant a lot to me.
My friend Idiboy gave me a nice gift, these traditional African clothes. Earlier in the day I didn't think to put them on. Idiboy insisted, he said, "Come on, where are your clothes, you have to wear them for the party tonight." It took me a little time to get used to them, but after this special night I became comfortable in my new clothes, and ended up wearing them more than anything else my last few days there.
Everything where I was in Africa grows on you with just a little time. At first it feels totally new and your mind can't capture it; but with a little prodding from friends, the environment pulls you in, and suddenly it all becomes a part of you. Often I had to turn my mind off and just experience. There is no frame of reference in one's mind for the things you may see in Africa, so you have to continously be willing to open yourself and experience things like a newborn.
In this video you cannot see the party or the drummers only the light from my porch. Sorry I was only using a cheap cell-phone video camera.
Still you can hear the noise of the drummers. One of the highlights of the night was the drummers. It was interesting how the drumming came about. I was sitting at the beach one of my days, when a young man came up to me and asked if I could help him before I went with some money. In this region, it's common for travellers to get asked often to give money, etc. This was a dude I had seen around many times, and talked to from time to time. There were a few people I was certain to give to before I left, but I honestly did not have it in my mind to give him anything. He was very persistent so I told him, "Later I will give you something". I felt kind of bad telling people, "later"..."later"... all the time, but when people are persistent sometimes it's the only answer one can give to continue on their way.
I mentioned the exchange to Idiboy and he told me, "don't worry, we will work something out". This guy would end up being one of four drummers at the party. And those guys really put on a show, the drumming was spectacular. I had gone to many drumming shows while there, but it was different not being at a show, where they are on stage and your at a table in the crowd. Here I was right next to them, in my front yard, people were dancing, joining in... even Idiboy ended up getting down on the drums and could hold his own with the best of them. Everyone was having a great time as the night heated up. At the end of the night, for their services the drummers just asked me to give something from my heart. I know whatever I gave was way more then I'd have just given him for simply asking me in public. So I guess this was one occasion where my conscience could be clean and I was able to make good on my promise to "give later".
The drummers had many songs they sung, they were songs learned growing up in the village. They would throw my name in at the right time, and personalize things. My nickname with Muslims is Ibrahim, so their song would go something like this...
"Home again
Home again
When Will I find my home again
Ibrahim we will miss you"
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
miscellaneous
going upcountry you have to know that often things will not go as planned. The plan gets lost at times, and their are moments when your only safety is with Allah, and in this way you are brought closer to Allah.
"If you just believe in the most high, you know you'll be alright." Akon Mama Africa
I expected this going in. The situation was this, I had no car and my friend had no car. One guy we knew, Seeni, had a car and he was already going upcountry to visit his Uncle, so we were just going to "tag along".
So that was the plan. But ofcourse in the upcountry Africa nothing goes according to your best laid plans...
...however...
...I did not expect that my plans would go ary before I would even get out of the city!
The city of Gambia is seperated from the upcountry of Gambia by way of the ferry. We got up early in the morning expecting to catch the first available ferry around 8am. As I mentioned, one must always expect the unexpected because it was not until 8pm that night, that we finally caught the ferry.
Our whole day was spent in a traffic jam of cars all vying for position to enter the parking lot to the ferry. The traffic jam actually appeared to move backwards, not forwards, and there is no system in which it is to move, no visible program for moving cars in and out in an orderly fashion, rather it involves payoffs for positions in lines, bargaining with officials at the gate, and at one time a member of the group actually went and opened the gate while the guard was distracted to allow the car through.
Then that wasn't the end of it. Once inside the parking lot it was then understood that one of the ferry ships was in repair, thus they were running only one ship, the wait was tremendous. The time was only eased by the companionship of other strangers all crowded together in the same mess.. somehow the common experience made way for conversation... I met a couple European guys who basically were taking their truck through all parts of West Africa, they told me nice stories of being in villages and joining in on fireside parties, drumming, dancing and so on. This is a rare quality in upcountry Africa that a stranger can engage in such events so easily as they pass from one village to the next.
I met some "Bifawl" Muslims. They basically said they were Muslim but also embraced their ancient African traditions and even pieces of Rastafarianism into their religious practice. They invited me to visit them in their hometown in Senegal.
Finally we made it across in the night, and just when I started to relax and feel comfortable underneathe the full moon as we rode alone into the night... we were stopped at a checkpoint... and then another checkpoint... and then another checkpoint... and then another checkpoint.... seemed every few miles there was another checkpoint... always interrogating and checking the car over and again.
Finally I was in the upcountry, but my mind ld not be free, as we were constantly hassled by one hang up after another until finally returning to the "freedom" and "unhassled" life of the city.
"If you just believe in the most high, you know you'll be alright." Akon Mama Africa
I expected this going in. The situation was this, I had no car and my friend had no car. One guy we knew, Seeni, had a car and he was already going upcountry to visit his Uncle, so we were just going to "tag along".
So that was the plan. But ofcourse in the upcountry Africa nothing goes according to your best laid plans...
...however...
...I did not expect that my plans would go ary before I would even get out of the city!
The city of Gambia is seperated from the upcountry of Gambia by way of the ferry. We got up early in the morning expecting to catch the first available ferry around 8am. As I mentioned, one must always expect the unexpected because it was not until 8pm that night, that we finally caught the ferry.
Our whole day was spent in a traffic jam of cars all vying for position to enter the parking lot to the ferry. The traffic jam actually appeared to move backwards, not forwards, and there is no system in which it is to move, no visible program for moving cars in and out in an orderly fashion, rather it involves payoffs for positions in lines, bargaining with officials at the gate, and at one time a member of the group actually went and opened the gate while the guard was distracted to allow the car through.
Then that wasn't the end of it. Once inside the parking lot it was then understood that one of the ferry ships was in repair, thus they were running only one ship, the wait was tremendous. The time was only eased by the companionship of other strangers all crowded together in the same mess.. somehow the common experience made way for conversation... I met a couple European guys who basically were taking their truck through all parts of West Africa, they told me nice stories of being in villages and joining in on fireside parties, drumming, dancing and so on. This is a rare quality in upcountry Africa that a stranger can engage in such events so easily as they pass from one village to the next.
I met some "Bifawl" Muslims. They basically said they were Muslim but also embraced their ancient African traditions and even pieces of Rastafarianism into their religious practice. They invited me to visit them in their hometown in Senegal.
Finally we made it across in the night, and just when I started to relax and feel comfortable underneathe the full moon as we rode alone into the night... we were stopped at a checkpoint... and then another checkpoint... and then another checkpoint... and then another checkpoint.... seemed every few miles there was another checkpoint... always interrogating and checking the car over and again.
Finally I was in the upcountry, but my mind ld not be free, as we were constantly hassled by one hang up after another until finally returning to the "freedom" and "unhassled" life of the city.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Upcountry trip to villages of Gambia
Mungo Park
S
eene, Idiboy, Usman, Myself
This is another famous historical site in the upcountry of Gambia, where Scottish explorer Mungo Park began his journey across West Africa in the 14th century. He started at approximately this location. The goal of his journey was to track the course of the Niger river and he was successful. He came back a second time and was attacked and killed by locals during his second journey.
I actually went to this location twice. The first time I had told my friends I wanted to ride the canoe up the river. So one of the locals offered to take me. We went for a mile or so up the river. We stopped and began walking through the woods. I was barefoot but enjoyed seeing the nature. We walked for about a mile through the woods till we reached this monument. On the way back we passed some rice farmers. They were all women, and they were interested to see a foriegner coming through, they playfully asked me to join them in their work. Maybe if I hadn't been barefoot I would have joined them for a little while to see what it was like. On the way back the guide who took me there explained to me life on the farm, as he was a farmer himself. He also asked me if there "was anything I could do for him" and "not to tell the others that he had asked me". But I mentioned it to my friend as soon as we got back and he advised me "not to give him anything" because there were not available ATM's in the upcountry and we needed all the money to make sure we got back okay. The jeep was leeking oil and we had spent more than we expected. We even spent time at a mechanic shop in the upcountry. Here are a couple pictures of the upcountry shop where we received maintenance for our jeep...
No child labor laws here....
That's our jeep behind us being repaired...
Anyway...so as I was saying I went canoeing up the river to visit Mungo Park. Then after reaching back to the location where we were staying that night. My friends also said they wanted to see Mungo Park. So this time we went by land taking a donkey ride through the villlages out to see it. The donkey carried about 6 of us on a wooden board with wheels.
This is the means of transportation for many living in the villages. The night before I had passed through a local village but it was pitch black, as there is no electricity. So I couldn't see anything, I was just following the others. But that day I passed through a few villages in route to Mungo Park, now in the daylight. On the computer I have seen old drawings by Mungo Park of 14th century Gambia, then called "Mandingo". The drawings in his travel journals are nearly identical to the way that it still looks today in those villages.
School in the upcountry of Georgetown... The name Georgetown comes as this place was the first English colony in the Gambia, attracting many historians who document the slave trade; slave dungeons can be found here.
No.. the pic below is not me inside a slave dungeon, it is actually me at inside a home in Farefeen, this is the home of hospital staff, as the countries main hospital is in Farefeen. Farafeen is a crossroads in the Gambia's upcountry.
Here we are at the home of Mouroba Shiek, his home is on the outskirts of the tendabba village, and his place attracts many people during the Gambian holidays. Their was some mystery surrounding this part of the trip, as the Mouraba Shiek's practice a brand of Sufi Islam, in which mystical or even "magical" practices that have been a part of the region for many centuries still exist. There are secrets here. You hear things in these parts like, "Gambian families are peaceful, we do not fight in the open, but there are secret unseen battles that go on amongst opposing families, tribes, where curses may be placed on a rival family, and Shiek's are often sought out for the purpose of having these curses lifted."
There is a famous place in Senegal called Touba where a few Sufi Shieks I came in contact with had studied. Many Westerners and Orthodox Muslims may write off what they are doing as mere superstition. I tried to maintain a respect for the culture, and for the people that who follow it there is a use, purpose and meaning to what they do.
A poem I wrote at the time:
"A valuable custom is gold in one land..
useless trash in another
a tradition is vibrant in one time
old and dirty in a new time."
When you believe something it puts energy towards it's attainment. For example, a Sufi might give you a long list of activities to partake in to obtain what it is you desire. Like, "wear this ring, then go to this man in this city and buy such and such garment, wear it for such and such days and no harm will afflict you or you will get this or that thing you desire". Some involve very elaborate agenda's that can take, days, weeks, and years. In America, life never slows down enough where such practices could ever take root, but here in Western Africa time moves about much differently; it is an unhassled life, and often achieving something great can take years or even generations to achieve, and people accept this as part of life.
This was our dining room where I was staying in the upcountry. Those yellow things that look like gasoline canisters are now used to carry our water. My friend Seeni had slaughtered a goat for his Uncle. They washed it off in the river, cooked it and we were soon about to enjoy.
Seene's car had a leak, so we had to take it to an upcountry mechanic. In the picture I look to still be enjoying myself, but I know at the time I was not. I knew we would make it back eventually, it was just the type of thing where I was somewhat reluctant about the upcountry trip to begin with, and then just like the year before, one thing after another seems to go wrong in the upcountry. All plans quickly go by the wayside. You really have to forget time, and forget about expectations and just learn to experience what is happening the way African's do.
Breakfast at the hotel.
S
eene, Idiboy, Usman, MyselfThis is another famous historical site in the upcountry of Gambia, where Scottish explorer Mungo Park began his journey across West Africa in the 14th century. He started at approximately this location. The goal of his journey was to track the course of the Niger river and he was successful. He came back a second time and was attacked and killed by locals during his second journey.
I actually went to this location twice. The first time I had told my friends I wanted to ride the canoe up the river. So one of the locals offered to take me. We went for a mile or so up the river. We stopped and began walking through the woods. I was barefoot but enjoyed seeing the nature. We walked for about a mile through the woods till we reached this monument. On the way back we passed some rice farmers. They were all women, and they were interested to see a foriegner coming through, they playfully asked me to join them in their work. Maybe if I hadn't been barefoot I would have joined them for a little while to see what it was like. On the way back the guide who took me there explained to me life on the farm, as he was a farmer himself. He also asked me if there "was anything I could do for him" and "not to tell the others that he had asked me". But I mentioned it to my friend as soon as we got back and he advised me "not to give him anything" because there were not available ATM's in the upcountry and we needed all the money to make sure we got back okay. The jeep was leeking oil and we had spent more than we expected. We even spent time at a mechanic shop in the upcountry. Here are a couple pictures of the upcountry shop where we received maintenance for our jeep...
No child labor laws here....
That's our jeep behind us being repaired...
Anyway...so as I was saying I went canoeing up the river to visit Mungo Park. Then after reaching back to the location where we were staying that night. My friends also said they wanted to see Mungo Park. So this time we went by land taking a donkey ride through the villlages out to see it. The donkey carried about 6 of us on a wooden board with wheels.
This is the means of transportation for many living in the villages. The night before I had passed through a local village but it was pitch black, as there is no electricity. So I couldn't see anything, I was just following the others. But that day I passed through a few villages in route to Mungo Park, now in the daylight. On the computer I have seen old drawings by Mungo Park of 14th century Gambia, then called "Mandingo". The drawings in his travel journals are nearly identical to the way that it still looks today in those villages.
School in the upcountry of Georgetown... The name Georgetown comes as this place was the first English colony in the Gambia, attracting many historians who document the slave trade; slave dungeons can be found here.
No.. the pic below is not me inside a slave dungeon, it is actually me at inside a home in Farefeen, this is the home of hospital staff, as the countries main hospital is in Farefeen. Farafeen is a crossroads in the Gambia's upcountry.
Here we are at the home of Mouroba Shiek, his home is on the outskirts of the tendabba village, and his place attracts many people during the Gambian holidays. Their was some mystery surrounding this part of the trip, as the Mouraba Shiek's practice a brand of Sufi Islam, in which mystical or even "magical" practices that have been a part of the region for many centuries still exist. There are secrets here. You hear things in these parts like, "Gambian families are peaceful, we do not fight in the open, but there are secret unseen battles that go on amongst opposing families, tribes, where curses may be placed on a rival family, and Shiek's are often sought out for the purpose of having these curses lifted."
There is a famous place in Senegal called Touba where a few Sufi Shieks I came in contact with had studied. Many Westerners and Orthodox Muslims may write off what they are doing as mere superstition. I tried to maintain a respect for the culture, and for the people that who follow it there is a use, purpose and meaning to what they do.
A poem I wrote at the time:
"A valuable custom is gold in one land..
useless trash in another
a tradition is vibrant in one time
old and dirty in a new time."
When you believe something it puts energy towards it's attainment. For example, a Sufi might give you a long list of activities to partake in to obtain what it is you desire. Like, "wear this ring, then go to this man in this city and buy such and such garment, wear it for such and such days and no harm will afflict you or you will get this or that thing you desire". Some involve very elaborate agenda's that can take, days, weeks, and years. In America, life never slows down enough where such practices could ever take root, but here in Western Africa time moves about much differently; it is an unhassled life, and often achieving something great can take years or even generations to achieve, and people accept this as part of life.
This was our dining room where I was staying in the upcountry. Those yellow things that look like gasoline canisters are now used to carry our water. My friend Seeni had slaughtered a goat for his Uncle. They washed it off in the river, cooked it and we were soon about to enjoy.
Seene's car had a leak, so we had to take it to an upcountry mechanic. In the picture I look to still be enjoying myself, but I know at the time I was not. I knew we would make it back eventually, it was just the type of thing where I was somewhat reluctant about the upcountry trip to begin with, and then just like the year before, one thing after another seems to go wrong in the upcountry. All plans quickly go by the wayside. You really have to forget time, and forget about expectations and just learn to experience what is happening the way African's do.
Breakfast at the hotel.
Monday, August 24, 2009
A long long day waiting for the ferry....
We were on a trip from Gambia to Senegal, you have to cross the River Gambia to get to Senegal, and therefore you must use the government serviced ferry to accomplish this. We were supposed to cross around 8am in the morning, so we awoke very early and set out on our journey... we ended up spending the whole day trying to accomplish this great feat, and it took much maneuvering and manipulating of cars, people, and officials to accomplish this. It wasn't until nightfall that we finally crossed. This set of video's details the days events, and how things can sometimes go wrong when traveling abroad.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
My guesthouse in Gambia
The process for finding this chill spot wasn't completely easy. Our first stop was actually at a distant cousins of Idiboy's. It seemed like a nice place and Idiboy was saying we may even be able to stay for free if we made a good impression on his cousin. So there I was just having arrived, took my first shower in 3 days in a makeshift shower outside the home. The home was locked so we could only get inside this small little guest unit that was just outside. I took a quick shower and threw on some boxers, I think I was still waiting for a towel before I would put on the rest of my clothes. I had not ate in a long time, and Idiboy had picked up some food at a stop along the way. So I sat down in the driveway in just my boxers eating the food (their was a gate so I wasn't in plain site of cars passing by, but still I felt somewhat uncomfortable awaiting my clothes). Just then his cousin came in, I was still just in my boxers, and having to explain myself, who I was, shake his hand, all while soaking wet in nothing but underwear. Probably didn't make the best impression. He did go ahead and move out all his things from his room so that I could use his room. But the funny thing was his room was all American style, Eminem, Britney Spears posters, all American music like Usher or Kanye West at the stereo system. In the room I really felt like I was not in Africa at all, like I was in America. Which it was kind of a bummer to travel so far and feel like you never left. After a day or two there, Idiboy and I agreed it wasn't our style, and his cousin was going to charge us quite a bit of money anyway... so we looked for a spot that was more our style and came up with this one.
Video of my guesthouse in the Gambia. All the essentials are there, nice shower, toilet (which is not always available, some places you have to take bath with buckets of water or use restroom that's just whole in the ground).
Also I have nice view outside of palmtree's...
View of the outer exterior...
Some kids came to do a show inside the property, some traditional drumming...
...the outside of my guesthouse...
This is the owner Sidi...
Sidi also stayed on the property and lived right here...
A kitchen in my guesthouse...
pic of my bedroom...
...and even living room area.
...Small rooms though, but everything I needed was there. Sometimes the owner of the guesthouse had to go refill the water from uptop they had this watertower supplying the 4 guesthouses.
Video of my guesthouse in the Gambia. All the essentials are there, nice shower, toilet (which is not always available, some places you have to take bath with buckets of water or use restroom that's just whole in the ground).
Also I have nice view outside of palmtree's...
View of the outer exterior...
Some kids came to do a show inside the property, some traditional drumming...
...the outside of my guesthouse...
This is the owner Sidi...
Sidi also stayed on the property and lived right here...
A kitchen in my guesthouse...
pic of my bedroom...
...and even living room area.
...Small rooms though, but everything I needed was there. Sometimes the owner of the guesthouse had to go refill the water from uptop they had this watertower supplying the 4 guesthouses.
ganja in Africa
As I explained before, the Rasta culture is huge in Gambia. And they don't call Gambia "the smiling coast" for nothing. Marijuana is a part of daily life in the country. It goes along with battling the elements such as digesting the food, the hot weather, mosquitoes, crowded streets and hustle of city life. Somehow the ganja blends beautifully with the life there. They have adopted Jamaica's Rasta culture in Gambia and ofcourse ganja is a big part of the Rasta way. Even strict Muslims and proffesionals engage in it's use in Gambia. People may pass by, see friends, have a seat, drink some tea, and pass around some ganja with their tea. The most popular song in my time in Gambia was a song called "Ganja Farmer". The songs lyrics go like this...
"Some ganja plant-a...
call me the ganja farmer...
it's a million ways (somethin somethin) ganja
Babylon comes to put my farm on fire....
...I'm a ganja planter....
...Call me the ganja farmer!"
I took this article about marijauna from a travel website about Gambia
http://www.accessgambia.com/information/ganja-drug.html
Ganja is the name for Marijuana (Pot), and seems to be more prevalent than liquor given the Islamic restrictions on alcohol consumption. Be aware that partaking and possessing Ganja is illegal in The Gambia. "Cannabis" is also used to describe the substance.
WARNING:
Never engage in illegal drugs. Penalties and prisons in Gambia are harsh.
Cannabis grows naturally in The Gambia and other parts of Africa and has been used as a recreational drug for centuries but its abuse is now widespread in both rural and urban populations in Africa (United Nations, 1989). The potency of cannabis varies widely geographically, with reduced levels of the major active principal, delta-9 tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) found in plants grown in cold climates; cannabis in West Africa is likely, therefore, to be highly potent. In The Gambia there are three cannabis harvests per year and its low cost, and ready availability favour its widespread use. The cannabinoids are highly lipophilic and accumulate in body fat, leading to a long half-life in chronic users (Harvey, 1985).
British Journal of Psychiatry (1993) 163, 798-801
This is one of my friends houses in the Gambia. This give you an idea of what many of the homes are like in the Gambia, both inside out outside the home.
That's my friends step-father in the picture. I think around 5 young men and women, 4 kids, 3 elderly people live in this house. As the family expands they build onto the house little by little. As you see behind the man sitting there is a house made up of about 3 -4 seperate rooms. Then across from him there is another small home made up of a couple of rooms. The bathroom is outside the two homes towards the edge of the property and is similar to what outhouses were like in America. The taxi's in the driveway are no longer in working condition. Idiboy's brother Adam is a mechanic and I think he had been working on the two taxi's, but no luck.
You see pictures on his walls of Reggae artists, along with a picture of a famous Islamic Sufi Shiek named Ibrahim Nayass. His branch of Sufism known as Tijani is the most popular practice of Islam I found in Senegal and Gambia. Although my friend wasn't really practicing Tijani himself, his mother and some other family members were more into it. Traditional Tijani Sufi's will gather on Friday's for "wassifa" where they will form circles and call out the names of Allah in unison till the energy biulds into a euphoria that is said to bring them closer to Allah.
Another picture you may notice is actually of Muammar Quadafi. I had to ask who it was because I couldn't tell just by looking at the poster. It appears to be a younger version of Kadafi. Kadafi tried to form the African United States and unite the whole continent of Africa, so he has one favor amongst black African's for being a Pan-African, African pride symbol-figure. Although ofcourse he is very controversial in other parts of the world, but regular locals in the Gambia seem to like him.
Along with the Reggae/Rasta posters you can also see a poster of 50 Cent. Not only do Gambians love hip-hop and American culture, but I think it is also a source of pride and inspiration for Africans to see blacks in the US achieve such levels of fame. Anybody from 2pac, Suge Knight, to Barack Obama, Snoop, Michael Jackson, these are all inspirational figures for them. Although part of it has less to do with black pride, and America's cultural influence in general, because you will even see Eminem t-shirts and posters around the region.
These videos below shows me eating in the house, it looks like it was a bowl of rice and maybe some chicken or fish, and patatoes, carots maybe.. very good, and even more blessings because it was shared with others.
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