Grafting in Gambia: Two Weeks Gone

We moved into the Big Brother house with relative ease. Six happy campers to fit into four rooms which meant four of us sharing and two getting the luxury of a room each. I organised the straws to draw the rooms and funnily enough myself and Vicky ended up with a room each. I can’t understand why they all thought I’d fixed it!

We tasted the real Gambia and visited a local village. Everybody welcomed us as we piled off the bus lots of smiling faces and handshakes in true Gambian style. We were introduced to the Alkalo (head of the village),the Imam and all the village elders. We meandered around their crops and gardens and finished with a mountain of food and hospitality. They were very apologetic as they couldn’t teach us to dance because of Ramadam, which was probably just as well because I think I would have needed a few bevvies before making a fool of myself.

Pounding the streets is best done at the crack of dawn. As the Imam calling everybody to prayer at 5o’clock and the local rooster are in competition at being my alarm clock I have had no problem getting up. The local mutts ignore me as I plod past, why did I bother getting my rabies jab I ask myself. I did get a bit worried when I saw two vultures watching me from the top of a lamppost. They seemed to be discussing whether or not I was dead. I never thought I would say it but it is a pleasure when the sun goes in.

Language training has been very brain aching. Fifty year old brains don’t seem to like learning new things. Anyway I thought I would do what my housemate Vicky does and practice my Mandinka with the people we meet in the street. My first encounter was with a guy who spoke Fula, the second was from Mauritania and the third guy only spoke Wollof. As you may have guessed I’m not yet fluent. I’m the first to be evicted from the Big Brother house. Tomorrow I head off for Brikama and my own pad so stay tuned.