Time to go home!

So Andy Pandy says (if anybody is old enough to remember that). I do, now that I am officially 52 years and one week, how ancient! Only a few weeks left of my Gambian adventure. Lots of goodbyes to say, house and office to sort, forms to fill, exams to mark and bags to pack.


You know it’s time to go when.......

• a stray tourist walks through the market displaying two lily white knees and you brand them a brazen hussy.

• the little old man begging at the end of the road starts to give you food.

• you start to miss the giant cockroach that lives behind the bookcase.

• you have recurring fantasy dreams about gravy and cheese.

• you prefer using a pit latrine to a flushing loo (maybe I could dig a hole at the end of the garden).

• little black things crawling around in my porridge oats seems quite normal.

• you start to question whether warm showers, washing machines and 24 hour electricity is reality or just a myth.

Looking forward to home comforts but I will be returning with many happy memories.

Visiting Kaur in wild African colours

Sainey's family and new house

Fellow passengers waiting for the ferry

A typical river scene

Pounding breakfast

The college football team apparently I was there honourary manager.

June's last tip - Boil porridge thoroughly to ensure little black things are soft not crunchy.

Cock - a - doodle - do!

Somebody has just turned the thermostat up out here. We are all starting to melt in the midday sun. The students are falling asleep on me. Could that be the sun or my delivery style I ask myself. There is one bonus the water at certain times of the day is coming through the shower hot, hot, hot. Unfortunately too late. It was when I was shivering at 28C I needed the hot water not now that I am baking at 38C.


Nik has just left. We had a relaxing time. We had lots of the four s’s (sun, sea, sand and sleep). We dined like kings, no brown with rice for a fortnight apart from the evening we were reduced to spam and chips (yes they still make the stuff). We took one trip up country to a wetlands reserve (Tendaba) which was an oasis for birders, which is the new and acceptable term for people like to watch birds and not just simply tick them off a list. I too am getting slightly better at identifying some of our feathered friends. They are no longer small, medium and large varieties anymore. I could now tell you what a splendid sunbird looks like and even what a yellow capped gonalek sounds like – impressed! Our journey back on local transport proved to be another bird experience. Nik had to share his seat with a very agitated cock between his legs.

Nik and his agitated cock

Floating through the mangroves

A big tree

Gazing over the river Gambia with a rare bottle of red.

Not long till my time is up now, only twelve weeks at the last count. I am starting to pick up tell tale signs that it is time to go. Like my last few pairs of M&S knickers are being held together with a wing and a prayer. My trip to the beach on Sunday saw my colleague finishing off my chips for me when all the time I was thinking to myself that this should be Nik’s job (that’s one of the marriage vows isn’t it?). I’m also down to my last jar of marmite and bag of tea bags. Maybe I’ll have to start hanging them out on the line. On a positive note, the mango season has started – heaven!

June’s tip for the week – Ensure your cock is happy and well fed before boarding transport.

Anyone for Ants?

A busy time. I’ve been very lucky and had lots of visitors in the past couple of months who have kept me supplied with many tasty goodies from Tetley tea bags to Cadbury’s mini eggs and most importantly CHEESE! I’m currently rationing out my last morsel of cheddar which I will just have to dream about until the end of July. My first visitors Tracy and Ian brought out pencils and rubbers from the lovely kiddy winks at Craneswater junior for the equally lovely little darlings at Kassa Kunda lower basic school. On the way we bought a mountain of exercise books from the local stationary shop and left the shopkeeper a very happy man. We then had the pleasure of handing out all the goodies to each class. We did an excellent impression of Father Christmas and his little helpers.

Happy faces

Next was Lisa and her three playmates all wonderful positive girlies who had a great time soaking up the culture and enjoying the sun, sand and surf. To top it all they had numerous marriage proposals from young (and not so young) gentlemen who obviously saw signs of love, romance and companionship or am I getting confused with UK visas and pound signs somewhere along the line.

Lisa on the beach with two of her mortal enemies.

A birthday beach beakfast

All visitors gone and it was back down to work, teaching, testing and marking. I do believe that all this paperwork which is often completed by candlelight is playing havoc with my eyes. Enter the ants.

My first unfortunate encounter was over breakfast. I have taken to having a squeeze of local honey on my porridge every morning. Now this honey comes in used tomato sauce bottles, which is admirable, I’m all for recycling. Every morning as I flipped the lid and squeezed, little dried flakes of honey sprinkled on my cereal. It wasn’t until day five when I happened to be wearing my specs I realised the honey flakes were moving. On closer inspection I realised that they were minute ants. Oh well, I suppose it is extra protein. Now I take care to inspect before squeezing. No, I didn’t throw the honey out, I’m a tight northerner, remember.

Ant incident number two involved food again. While preparing to make toast in my frying pan on the burner I noticed lots of dried brown onions which must have been left from the Spanish omelette the night before. Specs on revealed a herd of fried ants, the larger cousins of the honey ants. They went to a fried and watery grave. This time they were not consumed.

Incident number three involved food of another type. Having just showered I went to put on my clothes which I’d dumped on the floor outside the bathroom door. Groping around in the dark again I managed to get dressed without getting anything inside out. Within seconds the itching started. Ants in my pants! They were obviously mounting a revenge attack for their cousins the honey and fried ants and decided to sink their pincers into my nether regions. Needless to say I jumped back in the shower over a distance that would put Jonathan Edward’s triple jump record to shame.

June’s monthly tip – When you get to a certain age, wear specs when preparing food and dressing.

A lovely pic even though I say so myself.

Two Worlds

I flew to my world number one for Christmas and was met with tinsel, sparkling lights and trees adorned with baubles and chocolate novelties. Under the tree was a mini mountain of packages and then what I’d been looking forward to was opening the fridge door – WOW! My eyes were on stalks, a real Disney cartoon moment, eyes popping out, jaw dropping and drool dribbling from the sides of my mouth. There sitting on the shelf beckoning to – eat me – was cheese, cheese and more cheese, pigs in blankets, turkey, smoked salmon, gravy and brussel sprouts. I was in heaven. Needless to say by the end of my break I was half a stone heavier.


Dashing around the country visiting family and friends was lovely. En route we stopped off at a four star hotel for a slice of luxury, they even gave us an upgrade. How lucky were we! I had to eat my words as we got an unexpected present – food poisoning, which is a little bit ironic when I think about all the food bowls I’ve shared and munched my way through. Luckily I exploded from both ends before leaving the hotel. Nik wasn’t so lucky. While walking along the road in Anfield on our way to watch Liverpool v Newcastle, Nik’s rumbling volcano decided to erupt. Not a quiet affair and surrounded by scousers on their way to the match. There was calls of – UGH! YUK! and ‘Get it up lad’. All thinking that he’d had a skinful and having a dig at my cooking. Well as they say better out than in.

The two weeks flew by and it was that dreaded time to get back on the plane, back to my world number two. For some reason the in- flight meal wasn’t as exciting on the way back. I was greeted by newspaper headlines ‘Hippos and monkeys reduce rice yields’. What a contrast to ‘Jordan breaks an eyelash while winking at hubby number ?’ Like I said – two worlds.

No sooner was I back and I was whisked back up country to complete lesson observations. We covered the same area so it was nice to do a bit of follow up, some students had actually heeded our words. We had a couple of different overnight stops. One in a little village where myself and Catherine shared our little hut with the only female teacher in the school. We had an eventful night in store. I was happily in the land of nod, dreaming for some reason about hedgehogs, when visitor number one ran over my legs. I screamed, kicked Mr Rodent into the darkness but not being a David Beckham with pinpoint accuracy it landed on Catherine’s face which resulted in more screams. Still our host in the next bed did not wake. Mr Rodent ( I am calling him that because he seemed half way between a mouse and a rat) ran into a huge crack in the wall. I stuffed my trousers in the crack to either suffocate him or keep him out. How naive were we! He made his way out the other side of the wall came back in through the open door and when we had both just about dropped off again decided to fall between us from the roof causing more yells and commotion. Our next plan was to keep a torch on between the two of us which seemed to work for a while until a huge flying beetle was attracted by the light and ended up in my hair, more commotion. I did after much banging and clattering manage to kill that one. Morning could not arrive quick enough. We apologised to our host who politely said that she didn’t hear a thing - impossible. The story caused great hilarity between the male members of our group. Never a dull moment.

June’s tip for the month – Improve your kicking skills before sleeping in a mud hut.

Home for the night with the village kids

Meet the neighbours

Preparing dinner

The happy team

Marathons and Murders

Well which ‘M’ should I deal with first? I think I had better confess to the murders. It features Mr Usain Bolt (my mouse). In fact Usain has been out into the big wide world and acquired a wife. In fact, I think that he is a good Muslim mouse and he has acquired up to four wives. I have spied them on training runs doing circuits of my kitchen. On my way out of the house this morning I spied chewed up pieces of material and wood on the floor underneath my make shift settee (a folded double mattress covered in a sheet). As I lifted up the corner of the mattress there to greet me were the fruits of Usain’s labours (I should think Mrs Bolt had more to do with the labour side of things). Six (not three) blind, squirming pink little mice. What was I to do? As I was late for work, quick thinking was in order. I used my diary to scoop them onto a plate and then deposited them under a bush outside. When I got home from work there was no sign apart from a lizard sitting on the wall with a very contented smile on its face. Please forgive me Mr and Mrs Bolt.


The second M was just as painful but in a different way. About three months ago when the new volunteers came out my new running mate informed me that he was doing the Brufut half marathon and would I like to do it. So I said I would if I hadn’t already flown home for Xmas which is what happened last year (I was secretly hoping I’d be well on my way back to the UK). As luck would have it we broke up a week later so I was committed. Our training went well, we were used to the heat and we managed a couple of longer runs along sandy African tracks. ‘M’ day came and the start was only 45 minutes late which is good going for Gambia. The problem was that I don’t think the concept of fun running has reached The Gambia. The opposition all seemed to resemble male and female Mo Farah looky likies. The gun went and they were off leaving a trail of smoke behind them while the V.S.O. contingent were left to bring up the rear. A little bit like the hare and tortoise except in this case the hare did not go to sleep and the tortoise never caught up. The ambulance did keep checking the back markers every now and then to see if we were still in the land of the living and hand out the odd bag of water. We got a fine reception into Brufut, lots of clapping, cheering and most disconcertingly hysterical laughter. I tried to look behind me to see if I’d split my shorts or I’d done a Paula Radcliff and peed myself but I couldn’t get to the bottom of what caused the mirth. Thankfully my colleagues had the same treatment as they came in. Maybe they just couldn’t believe their eyes. We did it and raised a few bob in the process. Not something I’ll be rushing to repeat in the near future though.

June’s tip for the month - Remember small pink wiggly things turn into fast fertile furry things!

Before

After and still smiling

The Back of Beyond

No sooner were we back at work and we were sent to the far flung reaches of Gambia. What had we done to upset our leader, I asked myself. Then I remembered way back last term I just happened to mention that I hadn’t been out to region six on my expeditions yet. Whoever did the trek rotas must’ve remembered my words and decided to despatch myself and fellow volunteers armed with a few gallons of mosquito repellent, hand sanitizer and enough toilet roll to serve a small army. In fact, toilets were our main topic of conversation for the whole week. We started our week with nought out of ten for the state of the toilets. It was a miracle that we didn’t come back with a severe dose of cholera. Things got progressively better over the week. Teachers evacuated their quarters to put us up and also shared their food bowls with us wherever we went. We could not thank them enough especially when you consider some of the hardships that they have to endure. One school had nowhere to house their staff so they ended up sleeping in the store rooms in the back of their classrooms.

Breakfast on the road

Our first school visit, not very water resistant.

The school kitchen where various shades of brown with rice are prepared - yum!

The cook with a small bowl of rice.

The scenery and experience was awesome. I’m sure tourists would have paid hundreds to follow in our footsteps. Our last nights accommodation was the best, we even had a T.V. to watch. Sleeping wasn’t all that easy. As well as the heat an army of earwigs invaded our room so the night was spent flicking them off various parts of our bodies. When we compared notes in the morning we decided there was probably just one earwig and the unfortunate creature was just being flicked from bed to bed.

I have just had a very welcome stranger (visitor), my baby, who now towers over me and nearly breaks my ribs in a warm welcoming embrace. In his words we had an awesome week. Very conveniently the Presidential elections coincided with his visit which meant I had time off work and we could do the touristy thing. We had a mixture of beach days, forest days, luxurious hotel day and watching premiership football in the local video clubs (a shed with a telly), there’s no escaping it. We paid our 20p entrance fee and was treated to a rendition on ‘You’ll never walk alone’ at the end of the Man City game. It all seemed very surreal, I couldn’t quite understand why Kenny Dalgleish was wearing gloves and his nose was turning blue when we were sweltering in 40 degrees. Is it cold in the UK?

Pictures at sunset

Tom cooking up a storm for the compound.

Our day of luxury

June’s tip for the month – Never flick unwelcome earwigs just politely show them the door.

Creepy Crawlies

It seems like an eternity since I put pen to paper or should I say finger to keyboard. Let’s hope I remember what to do. After a five week break in the U.K. it is back to the heat and humidity. As I said to Nik in my first text message home – The eagle has landed but all her feathers have fallen out! I’d forgotten how hot it was at this time of the year.


Since vacating my nest over a month ago word got around the creepy crawly community and they all moved in. Even Usain the mouse has moved his relatives in, talk about extended families! I have the usual collection of slugs that greet me every morning then there is the spider who lives in the toilet cistern. I have the choice of looking under my toilet seat or squatting on the pan just like all the new students do until someone tells them how to use a flush loo. Now I know why all the toilet seats are broken in The Gambia. I usually choose the former option. My toilet spider’s mum lives in the kitchen. I’m trying to stay on good terms with my eight legged friends as they are earning their keep by eating the mosquitoes.

The toilet spider

My scariest creepy crawly has decided to take up residence in my bedroom, of all places, behind the bookcase. As you can see I am yet to identify it. To give you a rough idea about its size its head looking thing is approximately two inches across and its one existing antenna measures around six inches. I didn’t get close enough with my ruler to give precise measurements. I don’t feel brave enough to tackle it without a bullet proof vest. I might have to call in Mr Touray armed with a very big flip flop. If anyone can identify Clive (I’m assuming it is a boy) the creepy crawly I would be very grateful. I did think I’d seen something similar on a deadly creatures programme on the box when I went home, let’s hope I was mistaken.

Clive the Creepy Crawly

The students start next week so it is the calm before the storm at the moment. I think I have started on a positive note though as the staff had to introduce themselves to all 1,250 of them squashed into the hall and after I’d said who I was there was a hint of a ripple of applause that went around the room so things are looking good for the year ahead.

June’s tip for the month – Hover or sit but don’t squat on a flushing loo.

For all those interested this is a field of groundnuts (peanuts). They grow just like potatoes,