Basse Trip

Many stories and complaints from other volunteers and local people reached my ears about the URR (Upper River Region) horrendous heat. So I decided to experience it myself before the arrival of the rainy season. Even though the distance from Banjul (costal region) to Basse is about 300 kilometers only, the trip across the country takes a long time and is unpredictable. Basse is the biggest town/city in the countries eastern side. I was going to visit Basse and then Kundam, Remy’s (PC volunteer’s) site. So Thursday early morning after the cup of strong coffee, some chocolate and a surprise (J) I found myself on the roadside trying to catch a gelli gelli to Banjul. To get to the ferry at the Banjul terminal I took another taxi from the Banjul car park. It was my first time taking ferry across Gambia River to Barra so not knowing the surroundings there I followed the crowd to the ticket counter. I have also heard the stories about the ferry: not being on time, waiting hours for the ferry to come or it being repaired, large crowds of people waiting for it. I had my book and was gathering patience on the way there. Surprisingly when I passed through the ticket counter and reached waiting area the guards opened the gates and people rushed to the ferry. Again I went with the crowd! Ferry was slower than turtle so the crossing took a little more than an hour. However, I got a chance to enjoy the beautiful sunrise and a warm morning breeze.

 Small boats at the coast.

I met a guy on the ferry who helped me to find my way to car park to get a ‘set plas’, a vehicle, to Basse. Well, none told me that the so called ‘set plas’ is a car not a gelli gelli (a van). I followed the car park guys shouting: “Basse!” who were making their way through the crowd to the parked vehicles. When we finally stopped I saw people quickly boarding the cars and started inquiring for Basse vehicle. The guys pointed to the station vagon in front of me that had an additional set of seats constructed in the trunk. Remy instructed me to avoid by all means sitting in the trunk seats because they are very uncomfortable with small leg room. For a short trip this would not be a big deal but for a 4-7 hour ride it can be difficult. I was able to get a seat in the middle row and didn’t even get charged for a bag. The driver was on a mission – we flew through the countryside, villages and towns without stopping. Well, we were forced to stop only at police, immigration and military check points which amounted to about one and a half dozen of stops. I just do not understand the purpose and meaning of them, but I guess someone found them necessary. Along the way the breeze changed from chilly to warm and by the time we reached Basse it got hot. The scenery also changed from dry lands dominated by palm and baobab trees to the patches of small green grass and leafy trees. East part of the country usually receives the rains first so they already got to enjoy the rains several times. At Janjanbureh (Georgetown) were waited for another ferry to cross the river. It was quick and not painful. Upon entering the URR the smooth paved road ended and we found ourselves on the bumpy dirt-gravel road. However, this did not slow down the driver.  The vehicle was pretty beat up but handled dashing through the dirt road very well. I set my feet in Basse after about 7 hours of traveling which was very quick and, I learned, unheard of. I was very lucky - maybe a birthday gift. After meeting with other volunteers and exploring the Basse market we had an excellent chicken dinner at Aminata’s, local family restaurant. Early next morning I together with Remy biked to Kundam, his site, which is about 10 km way from Basse. Traveling on a mountain bike on a dirt road made my lazy muscles to work extremely hard. By the time we reached the destination I was out of breath and soaked in sweat. However, the countryside was beautiful – huts (houses) with grass roofs, fields that are being cleared (prepared) for the planting, bush (local forest of shrubs and trees), a swamp with palm trees and shrubs; and hills! Most of The Gambia is rather flat except for some hills in this eastern part of the country. I was not thrilled to bike up them, but the view made up for the sweaty workout.

It is interesting to see the sites of other volunteers, meet their families and explore their surroundings. I was warned about the extensive greetings there, their importance and was trying to prepare myself for this experience. In my village and the cities where I travel the greetings are not as lengthy. The daily busyness and rushing altered the traditional ways. I was told that Kundam village consists of three separate fulla villages (areas) and one mandinko village, where I was staying. Fullas are herders and not so much farmers, where mandinkos are farmers. Remy showed me the mandinko women gardens and the fields which were being prepared/cleared for the farming. During the rainy season they will grow there millet, maze and groundnuts.

Anyways, I was (or we were) greeted by nearly every person on the way to the compound and Remy’s family members. One of his moms is soo pregnant and I was told is due any minute now. Unfortunately it did not happen when I was there.

 Women relax on bantaba in family’s compound

 Remy’s host family’s home.

I also met Jude, Remy’s playful puppy, who followed and guarded us most of the time, unless she was sleeping from exhaustion being dragged around for hours.

Jude is snacking on a discovered piece of fish.

After settling in and porridge breakfast we left for the mountain-hill, where the ginny (devil lives). As I was told the local people believe that the ginny lives in the hills and people do not go there (except for non believers). The view from the top was breathtaking, especially from the giant rock that was sitting at the side of the mountain. 

We got lucky to see enormous monitor lizard who was running from one hiding place to the other. I am glad we were not in his way. Scary looking one! (it was too quick for the picture).  After an unsuccessful bird (forgot their name) hunt with rocks we left the mountain and its picturesque views.

In the afternoon I got a chance to observe (and participate!) a blacksmith’s, Remy’s uncle’s, work of making a hoe. He is a deaf and most of his time working in his workshop. I learned that most of the people in the village know the sign language and have no problem in communicating with him.  I was amazed to see how accurate his work is without any measurement. The metal was shaping so easily in his hands. One can never think that he was working with the steel. He was using his bare hands to place hot coal in the fire place without any sign of pain or discontentment on his face. The skin on his palms was nearly as hard as the steel itself.

 In the process of molding the metal.

 Working hard.

I was excited to sleep outside second night in a row. For people in the area sleeping outside is a necessity and not adventure like it was for me. It gets very hot outside and inside the houses gets even hotter and impossible to sleep. People sleep on the bantabas (outside concrete structures with the roof) or beds placed near the houses.

The following day we, together with Remy’s counterpart Alaji, who knows the area well, went to the bush and the river.

 Gambia River

 Alaji and Remy

We wondered for several hours in the bush exploring the trees and the area. Remy and Jude jumped in the water to refresh. Jude was thrown in to the water against her will. The water was warm and it probably did not have much of the cooling down effect.

 Not interested in water!

Later she was distrustfully looking at me and Alaji while observing her owner swimming in the water and moaning. The day became very hot without a cloud in the sky as we were heading towards the village.

After the weather cooled down a bit I headed back to the Basse to spend the night at the PC transit house and catch a ‘set plas’ early in the morning – another long day on the road. Right at the beginning of the ride I realized that riding those10 kilometers against the wind will be quite a workout – and it was. I was panting while riding up the small hills and asking my legs not to give up…a little bit more, a bit more. I made it back to the house drenched in sweat and covered with dust. I ran for the shower right away hoping to cool down, but since the tank was sitting in the sun all day, there was only a hot water trickling down from the shower head. The drying with the towel was useless – my body had not stopped sweating. After chatting with some volunteers and locating a sandwich for a dinner I was exhausted from all the activities and was ready to place my head on the pillow.

Next morning I left the house before the sunrise and was able to observe the waking up of the town. At first I felt uneasy walking alone in the dark in the unknown city (walk is about half an hour) but soon I was consumed by the surroundings. I was greeted by two older men who were pacing and having an intense discussion. I was greeted by the growling dog that was suspicious of toubaab woman walking down the street. I passed by the gas station where a man was reciting the Koran right when the sunlight started brightening up the morning. I passed by two chubby pigs looking for early breakfast, leftovers from the previous night. I passed by the early vendors preparing for another long and hot workday. I passed by the harmonious toad chorus in the swamp. I passed by the gelli gelli and people rushing to go places. I passed by the crowds of bats squealing in the trees by the local hospital happy that the rest time had arrived. I passed by the people still snoozing on the benches in front of their stores-bitiks. I passed by the guys yelling and asking where I was going hoping to get another traveler in their vehicle. I passed by the shopkeepers with sleepy eyes and voices, until I finally saw the ‘set plas’ and the guys trying to get the passengers traveling to Barra. After winning the bargain to pay for a bag only 30D, instead of 50D, I was ready for the traveling. The trip was long and sleepy. Without a morning coffee cup I was dozing most of the way. Barra port was overcrowded with cars and people rushing to go places. The ferry was parked at the port and I, together with some other travelers, rushed to the ticket counter to get to the ferry before it left for Banjul. The crowd waiting for the transfer was massive. When the gates opened people rushed through and ran to the ferry, hoping not to be left behind. It seemed that the ferry had more than thousand people onboard, plus the cars. I think the maximum number of people was determined when there was no available place to sit or stand. I was grateful for a small piece of bench offered by the kind older man. Exhausted by traveling and the sun I was happy to be getting closer to home.

I loaded more pictures onto picasa: https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/sredir?uname=lkelpsaite&target=ALBUM&id=5622093145732980017&authkey=Gv1sRgCMfCpJK8gZnpoQE&feat=email