Bully for us!

The pink palace has been bursting at the seams for a week or so now. 

Sarah, still down from Basse, had to move out of her usual temporary lodgings with me and relocate to Mary’s near Bakau.

This was to make way for the group from Kerewan.

I felt like a hotel proprietor: the small bedroom, with recently acquired floor mattress became the “Celtic Corner” for Gareth, the spare double room, for Vicky and Nfamera, was named “The Bridal Suite” in recognition of their recent Islamic wedding. I retained my room (HQ) and poor Suki had to make up her bed each night on the bamboo sofa in the lounge. This suited everyone as she is quite an owl when it comes to bedtime and she also felt that the hard surface would benefit her troublesome back. Actually she deserved more than “Suki’s Squat” but it was all too easy to accept her kind offer.

Everyone was down in Kombos to welcome the new group of volunteers.  At first it seemed strange to us to be regarded as the “old hands” but we soon realized that this is indeed what we have become. The new volunteers are quite an international group with a few from Britain, one from Switzerland, another from Indonesia and several from other African countries. I recognised their bewilderment as we jumped in and out of 7,7s and explained how the geli-geli system operates. After their first week in the Safari Garden Hotel, the newcomers have now moved out, either into their Kombos accommodation or into the shared house, in the case of those going up country. And so the VSO cycle continues!

Lyn, Catherine, June and me

During the five and a half months I have been in The Gambia I have come to realise just how important and sustaining are the strong relationships with fellow volunteers. This is an aspect of the placement I did not consider much before coming and yet it is absolutely vital. The challenges of volunteering can be considerable and completely outside any previous experience. Since coming out we have all needed each others help at some time. We frequently cope with the strange and unexpected and although there may be a lack of expertise amongst us, this is more than outweighed by collective and unstinting support. Solutions are always found.

Just recently it was my turn, having encountered Miss Trunchbull's African cousin! (x ref Matilda by Roald Dahl). I will not dwell on these difficulties here, except to say that I have transferred to a new job with an advocacy group for inclusive education. The staff are enthusiastic, professional and welcoming, I am really looking forward to working with them for the rest of my placement and am glad to say that the focus of my work remains the same.

Luckily for me Suki, Sarah and Mary were around as wise (and often irreverent) counsel throughout.

My mind is now fully occupied with what is happening today because late this evening I shall be on a flight to Brussels and with another “hop” will be at Heathrow by mid morning tomorrow, arriving at my mothers just in time for Sunday roast (A SUNDAY ROAST!!!)

I feel almost overwhelmed by excitement at the thought of a holiday back home, catching up with the family and welcoming my second grandchild (due tomorrow).
It will bring a Blog Break too. I’ll resume in March.

Success at Abuko

I indulged in a taxi to take me from Kanefing to Westfield at 8 30a.m on Thursday, 25^th January.  My excuse is that for three days I had been struggling with a heavy cold and temperature (yes they do happen even here). The taxi driver assumed I was late when I jumped onto the back seat, as each morning when I walk past I usually joke that I need the excise more than his services.  This morning I surprised him!

Westfield is a bustling junction and street market. People jostle and call; selling wares and rounding up passengers for gely-gelies going in all directions. Amid all the chaos I needed to find one going towards Brikhama. Two men darted forward and began haggling over which one had got to me first. I chose one and followed him to his gely, realising almost immediately that my selection had been unwise as the vehicle was practically empty. This meant quite a wait as gelies do not leave according to a schedule. They leave when they are full!  

I didn’t worry too much as I did have time to spare but changed my mind just after a taxi drove smack into the rear of the gely-gely,  As voices and temperatures rose  I quickly jumped out through the open door and in through the one on the side of the gely gely in front, taking the last seat.  The apprentice clunked the sliding door closed and we set off immediately.

I was bound for Abuko Lower Basic School for another wonderful day with Bernice and my “stop” was “Veterinary” in Abuko, right next to the African Locust Project.

The journey went so smoothly that I arrived early, while Bernice was busy with a visiting teacher from another school. Luckily Mr Touray, a senior teacher, was on hand to take care of me; finding me a chair and offering me a choice of locations. I asked him to put it outside, in the enormous school yard. Gambian mornings are cool just now and it was enjoyable to sit in the fresh air listening to the bustle of a very happy school where gentle good humour and respect is almost tangible

Next to Bernice’s office was an empty class. The teacher was away unwell and so her pupils had been divided up amongst the other classes. This is unusual in Gambia. Often in such circumstances, classes, of even very young children, are simply left for the day unsupervised if the teacher is absent. It is indicative of Bernice’s team’s professionalism and care that the children’s learning needs come first.

 As I sat, I watched the children coming and going in their blue uniforms. Plain blue skirts for the girls and baggy knee length shorts for the boys, topped by checked shirts or blouses. Despite financial struggles, Abuko families take a pride in dressing their children smartly for school. It made me giggle to spot one or two of the boys, rushing along the long front porch, and stop just short of the head’s office, to make sure their shirts were tucked in. Another two boys travelled and scuffled with each other wearing grins from ear to ear.  Shyly in their wake came a tiny little girl, dressed in the green check of the nursery, completely accessorised in pink: backpack, shoes, socks and hair ribbon. A fleeting timid smile crossed her face as she passed me.

Even the most earnest young faces readily crack into the most brilliant of smiles.

I looked over to one side of the school yard where the new nine classroom block is under construction. The second floor looked nearly complete but there is also to be a third. Apart from this additional floor, the new block replicates the design of the old one; the integral porches providing protection from the hot sun and heavy rains.

Each floor in the new block will house three classrooms with some office space allocation, probably for the deputy as Bernice could not bear to leave her neat little office in the heart of the original building. She would like it even more if it were spruced up a little and has plans for this old block to be redecorated, if funds can be raised.

Despite all these plans there was little actual activity on the building site, an hour after the children started lessons. The children in grades 1 and 2 chanted, grades 3 and 4 teachers questioned and the boys from Mr Touray’s class carried large sections of branches over to the school kitchen to fuel the brick ovens.

The workmen sat and considered!

Overhead about 20 large birds of prey, eagles or vultures, circled and soared. Those that came low revealed long twigs in their beaks. They were busy nest building, but sadly the workmen were not busy at all! Oh well “domanding, domanding” as they say in Mandinka, “little by little”.

For the first time I began to notice the health posters stuck along the external walls. Child death rates are falling here so the drive to promote such things as: Malaria prevention, hand washing before handling food, catching coughs and sneezes is obviously having positive effects.

Schools are the obvious community centres to take the lead with health initiates, educating children and parents alike.

Suddenly Bernice was free and I could join her for a couple of hours checking the draft of her Development Plan which I had been working on since we last met. We enjoy each others company, sharing very similar professional concerns and joys, despite careers in different continents.

By lunchtime the smile on Bernice’s face matched that of her pupils. She was delighted with her first workable School Development Plan which reflected all her intentions over the next few years.  She immediately discarded her earlier version. Strategic Planning was introduced into schools here in the recent past but was not based upon a review structure. This has caused confusion. Taking the Minimum Standards (The Gambian equivalent of Ofsted) as a basis I have devised a School Self Review programme which can be done either manually or on computer, which a few heads do have. I am actually quite proud of my knowledge of the Minimum Standards, feeling I am almost ready to take it as a specialist subject on Master Mind.

Bernice was the third head teacher to work through the process with me and afterwards we celebrated with tea and fresh salad from the school garden. While we ate we chatted over our work, giving me an insight into ways to improve the process for the future. Working in a partnership is without doubt the most pleasurable part of my work here, and there has never been a better time than  with Bernice.

One of the biggest challenges for Gambian Head teachers is the new focus on free early education for very young children and so as we had time to spare I asked if we could visit the ECD (Early Childhood Unit).

The building is a three classroom annexed block completely walled off from the rest of the site, but set within it. The unit is painted green, reflecting the colour of the uniform. There is a garden and some swing frames ready to be put into action when the teachers choose to add the seats.

Each of the classrooms had about 50 children, in fact one had 57. The children all sat on chairs intended for children a few years older but they sat happily; keen to chant letter sounds or known choruses, echoing their teachers, two of whom were young men. This is not unusual here. In fact there are so many male teachers, there is a national drive to increase the number of women teachers to 40% of the total.

These ECD classes had a blackboard, number line and letter frieze. Bernice explained they also had counting resources. This, to UK eyes, is a very meagre amount of equipment but children do not have much at home and so expect few material goodies at school. It still leaves me in awe of how such large classes are managed with so few resources.

On our way back, we walked along the edge of the yard where pupils were eating their dinner. Rice is provided by the World Food Fund and the cost of the sauce is met by each child bringing  2 Dalasis a day.

Huge bowls of food were collected by the staff and set out on tables under one of the trees. The rice and the sauce were ladled into large plastic bowls which were placed in the centre of small groups of children who ate in the traditional way: crouching and eating with their right hand. It was a happy sight and later it was a privilege to visit the kitchen team who provided the meal. Mostly these were the “mothers’ club”, about 8 women led by the indomitable cook. Laughing, the team of helpers explained that they too were volunteers as they were paid in rice – a 50kg bag each every month. The kitchen was large, clean and immaculately ordered. Across the back of the main room was a brick staging.

Set within the second “step” were four fire holes where the logs brought by Mr Touray’s class earlier were aflame under the large pots above. These were filled with water (ready to take the rice) and the sauce.

I wondered why all this was going on when I had just seen the children eating. Then I remembered. This is a double shift school. The 650 pupils who had eaten were the morning shift. What I could now see  was the preparation for the second sitting, later in the afternoon.

As I left I saw into the second smaller room, It was neatly filled with gleaming pots, each one the size of my UK oven!

Everything at Abuko is amazing: the level of care, professionalism, community involvement and respect for learning but my most enduring memory will be the smiles, laughter and genuine welcome.

Exploring New Avenues

Today started rather overcast by Gambian standards. It is also slightly cooler thanks to the strong seasonal Harmattan winds. At night they blow so strongly that I can have difficulty sleeping: open doors bang shut and closed ones rattle in the locks. It is impossible to keep the wind out, as although all my windows have bars and mozzie mesh, they do not all have glass. Actually the sensation of draught is welcome on English skin!

Anyway this morning I decided that I would take advantage of the lower temperatures and explore the area around the Pink Palace, finding connections on foot that allow me to join up places and addresses I already know. My little “adventure” took a couple of hours non stop and I was pleased to discover that I live very centrally to many places I already know well or would like to know better.  

Although my address is Kanifing the map location of my house is actually more in Bakau Kungko which is set a little way inland from Bakau, itself. Can anyone find me on Google Earth? In fact I live very close to the Gambia Football House, just south of the Independence Stadium. Here on Thursday, a public holiday, due to the fourth inauguration of President Jammeh, the celebrations were marked with a multi gun salute. The explosions drew me up onto the roof to watch plumes of white smoke rising into the air. However I was too far away to see any of the dignitaries or the President himself.  Throughout the day before, I repeatedly heard the same song being practised by local school children. Presumably they too featured in the stadium ceremonies.

To mark the holiday I lunched in a Westfield Lebanese restaurant with Sohna, my friend from Mansa Konko. She is in Kombos undertaking a month’s I.T. training; hopefully the start of more to come.  Sohna is the only woman on the course and she is right to feel a sense of achievement.  We ate, laughed and caught up on news and gossip. 

It was late in the afternoon when we parted. She left for Serrekunda and I walked up the Kairaba Avenue to the Alliance Franco-Gambienne where I met a group of VSO friends to watch La Cirque. We joined others sitting outside on plastic chairs which we arranged around a large area of concrete. After a while a large white van drove in and “broke down” in the centre of the arena and the fun began. The many players, all French, came and went through the van, creating a sense of chaos and enacting a drama, often in mime but sometimes extremely noisily adding to the bedlam. In essence they were clowns and jugglers and very skilled in their craft. I loved the idea of the stage being all around the central exposed prop store and thought often of Annie and the Sarratt Panto players (SPLAT). Perhaps the village hall committee would draw the line at allowing The Grey Knights bus such a role.

I went to work last Monday and found that the SIU office was locked. Everybody was out “on trek” and I had been forgotten! Last week came the pride. This week brought the fall! Such things are not uncommon here, so it pays to be flexible. Working from home on Monday was useful as I could finalise documentation and set off to find a good inexpensive printer. Printing is such a problem here, even in government offices.

Start up costs can usually be found because they bring a certain glamour but there is hardly ever the drip, drip funding to pay for after care: toner, inks etc.  But by the end of the day I had located a small Gambian company and had sets of self funded documents ready to go.

So far I’ve steered clear of talking about what I am trying to do here professionally, really because I am sure it makes for dull reading but with all my recent news being social or domestic, I think I ought to put the record straight work wise!

My placement brief was “School Management”, an enormous subject, given a one year time frame. In order to stand a chance and any measure of success I believe it is better to find one small possibility and stick to it, rather than thrash about fighting bush fires. After a week or so in Mansa Konko I came upon some recent School Development Plans. These were lengthy (often 70 pages), convoluted (objectives unclear) and the result of unbelievable effort (almost all are hand written in triplicate!!) The plans had been the result of extensive National training but not one seems to be in use. They are all “lost” or gathering dust somewhere.

And yet, schools need to improve urgently.

Gambia has a tight structure for measuring effectiveness of schools, called the Minimum Standards, but Head teachers have not been encouraged to use this framework to review their schools before planning changes. Therefore one of the documents I have designed is based upon this framework, enabling heads to carry out a school self assessment.  (Perhaps the reason I am not sleeping is to do with memorizing the Minimum Standards and not the rattling windows and doors!!)

It is always a pleasure to work for a day with a head teacher.

First I ask the Head to tell me about their school, often as we walk around. All the achievements and concerns come tumbling out in ways I readily recognize. Afterwards we settle down and go step by step through the paperwork marking off “established good practice” and indicating “Action needed” as appropriate.

The first section gives cause for celebration and the second section becomes the spine for the School Development Plan. The day has by then travelled full circle: the “established good practices” echo the head teacher’s earlier achievement list and his or her concerns are now marked as “Action Areas”. It is rare to find a head who does not know their school. This simple alignment between their existing knowledge and the notion and purpose of School Development Planning always demystifies the process and pleases them. I do a few days preparation work before we meet again for another day or two, usually the following week to complete the Action Plans.  This in itself is a challenging task, requiring much further training for which I do not have time at the moment and which would over complicate the present focus. My intention is to leave as many examples as I can and begin to influence the thinking at ministry level.

Other common difficulties are becoming obvious too: data collection and financial management are frequent examples. So these areas too are keeping me busy.

On Tuesday I travelled the 45 minute gely gely ride to Abuko Lower Basic School where the wonderfully enthusiastic and good humoured Bernice Saidey has a total of 1,300 pupils. Even in this poor community 10% of her school roll are considered to be exceptionally needy. If you want to know what that means in practice, I can tell you because I met Ousman and his mother.

Ousman is 11 years old. He is in Grade 4 not 6, because he started his schooling late, a common fact in poorer communities. He is slightly built and polite, speaking certain English phrases well. He is also hardworking and doing very well at his studies which is a shame because his father has died, making the additional burden of school costs on the family’s meagre finances impossible to find. How much? 400 Dalasis, plus another 400 for a meal each day.       These costs are per year! 

There are 45 Gambian Dalasis to the pound. As the Americans say “Do the Maths!”

To keep Ousman at school will cost around £20 p.a. The costs by the way are for: exercise books, pencils, uniform etc etc. as well as lunch. Bernice ensures costs are kept to a minimum. Her school garden also successfully supplements the food and the cash flow to support children like Ousman.

At the end of a successful first day, I came away with three fresh tomatoes, an aubergine and a heavy heart that was formulating a commitment to a little boy!

Working one-to-one with such professionals is almost an indulgence and so for the sake of expediency  I would like to  hold single day training sessions for groups of about 50 school leaders to explain the principles behind the cyclical process of Review, Plan, Do as well as some of the detail around action planning, data and financial management but at the moment this is not possible.

However  SIU are interested …..so perhaps there is hope for further exploration…….

Transfer and Reflection

My move to Kannefing in the Kombos is so that I can take up a position with the School Improvement Unit, a department of the Ministry of Education, located in the annex building only ten minutes walk away from The Pink Palace. I am proud to say that this move was endorsed by the Permanent Secretary for Education himself!

My work here began with a three day training course on School Planning for Head Teachers, Senior Teachers and Chairs of the SMC (equivalent of the schools’ Governing Bodies). This provided a wonderful start as I got to meet many of the people I will be working with. They seem to be a lively, good humoured lot. For example on the first day of training when establishing the ground rules for effective team work,  they decided that in the interest of efficiency,  repetition was to be avoided.  They believed this to be so important that they repeated it four times!

Since moving here, 12 days ago, I have not had a night alone. Suki and Gareth have both stayed one or two nights and Sarah has been here since the first day. But today, Sunday, Sarah set off early to return to Basse.

I have loved having all these young VSOs to stay and will miss them. Hopefully they know that The Pink Palace Hotel will always welcome them.

Having seen Sarah off safely, I took the half hour walk to “Traffic Lights” where Lynn lives. Lynn is a long serving volunteer. She was ready in her car to take a group of us down to the Cabana Hotel on the beach, where we sat around the pool, chatting and reading until lunch time ( I had delicious butterfish with chips) before resuming our pool positions well into the afternoon.

You can see how rapidly my life has changed recently. This has caused me to become a little reflective………

Working in Region 4 at the directorate offices in Mansa Konko for the past three months gave me quite an insight into rural life in a developing country.

“It is not easy” as the Gambians say.

No running water in the tiny corrugated roofed houses, many of which do not have electricity. Shared latrine toilets are the norm. Whilst there, I was lucky enough to have my own latrine and part-time power, as well as the means to buy it. The water tap was also within my compound. Many locals, always the women of the household, have to walk along the sandy roads to their nearest standpipe, carrying large bowls of water back on their heads. They do this journey many times a day to ensure adequate supply for drinking, cooking and washing. Despite the difficulties people take a pride in their appearance. Children going to school and adults off to work wear clean clothes, dried on the bushes and pressed with a charcoal iron. The clothes, including shoes, do not fit well and show evidence of many years wear. The poverty is more evident when people are at home, in their “everyday” ragged wear. For the young children this often means very little at all.

Children have no toys but often play with the bits and pieces they find on the rubbish piles.

Most children walk miles to school, many of which operate a “double shift” system with morning sessions from 8.30 till 1p.m. and afternoon sessions from 2 till 6.30 p.m. Young children are therefore walking to or from school in the full strength of the African sun; those on late shift are still on their way home after dark, as sunset is around 7p.m.  As it is beneficial to learn in the morning, classes often alternate shifts fortnightly. This is especially good for the girls, who have numerous chores to do when they are at home. Morning classes mean that education really does come first.

Pupils learn English, Maths, Science and Social Environmental Studies. Other aspects of learning such as Sport, gardening and scouting are available as extracurricular activities. The school gardens, tended by the pupils, are a means of education and also supplement either the school meals directly or school cash flow. Last month I saw a bush fire take hold of a large school garden. When the master saw the flames, he called immediately for help. Not by phone of course but by bellowing for Year 6 to rush out of their classes with buckets of water or long thin branches as fire fighting equipment. After half an hour the crisis was over. School fire drill here is certainly different from Hertfordshire! There is a fire station on the main Soma/Mansa Konko road but presumably a bush fire travels more quickly than the engines!

Gambia has embarked on a huge drive for universal education but many families still need convincing of the value of enrolling their children in a school; following this up with regular, punctual attendance. There is so little money; at a personal and national level that the costs involved are often prohibitive. This effects both the provision and take up of the intended service, especially in the "up country" areas. Rural life is hard here and although I was befriended by so many people who were unbelievably kind and generous there was a certain prevailing tension about the town, indicative of the relentless struggle. Such poverty brings lack of control and absence of choice. Many people have little to do other than the grinding chores of survival.

Why am I writing this now?  It is because living in the  city provides the distance to see Soma life more clearly.

The structure of education remains the same, but here close to the capital there is greater parental expectation. There are also many more schools and ECDs (nurseries) available. Many families are markedly affluent with all the choice that brings. The more comfortable standard of living of many is apparent on my morning walk to work, still on sand but now alongside a 4 metre wide strip of tarmac. Here the children wear well fitting uniforms and have less far to walk. Some even go to school by car.  Life here is better for many of my Gambian neighbours as well as me.

It is strange that when I first came out in September I did not notice all of this. Gambia hasn’t changed in the four months since I arrived but my perspective has.

I came here to help with education and instead it is me that has had the lesson.

I do hope that I can help in SIU. I’ll certainly try, appreciating the unique opportunity I have been given to do a two part placement, both rural and urban.

In The Pink

At 8.30 a.m. last Tuesday, 3^rd Jan, I left Sarah, still in bed at Catherine’s house, and walked to the VSO office. It took about half an hour. By 10.30 I was on my way back with approval to take over an empty flat, here in part of Kombos, called Kannefing.

Sarah and I packed our bags, and called for Lamin’s help. On the way in his taxi we called into the biggest store in town, Emporium, and bought sheeting material and power credit from the Nawec offices. We were set.

I had never been to the flat before, despite knowing Rob, the previous tenant, well.

We had always met at the office or in cafes. When the taxi pulled up outside a tall rose pink building with grey gates, a fully tiled entrance courtyard and external steps to the roof terrace, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It would not be possible to conjure up a place of greater contrast to the little home I have just left behind in Soma.

The landlord and his family occupy the top floor so mine is the ground level flat.

 Here is a large square kitchen with double drainer stainless steel sink, fridge and free standing cooker. There are two double bedrooms, each with double bed and set of drawers and one even has an ensuite shower room.  Next to the kitchen is another shower with separate w.c. The small single bedroom is unfurnished. The lounge diner is light and cool.

After I'd put down my rug and added a bamboo bed couch

All the floors are beautifully tiled. Sarah and I pinched ourselves and spent the rest of the day, unpacking, cleaning and rearranging the sparse furniture, before Suki joined us for the night, fresh off the plane after her Christmas visit home.  By the end of the day we knew that we really needed all the household bits and pieces from Soma. There was not a great deal to collect but certainly too much to bring down by gely gely. As there was no VSO vehicle available to help, we of course, phoned Lamin. By the end of Friday it was mission accomplished I’d even had time to say goodbye to neighbours, friends and work colleagues. After the long return drive Lamin and Sarah’s energies did not flag, until everything was in place. This even includes a large television which Mr Sanyang, my landlord offered.  Amongst all the other things Lamin  achieved that day he also found time to ask Sarah out for a date. Happily she accepted.

That evening I phoned Max, another volunteer from the Philippines whose service is about to end. I had heard that he was selling a single bamboo bed which would make an ideal sofa in my new lounge as well as providing another spare bed. I was in luck; it was still available and would be ready for collection the next morning.  So on Saturday (yesterday, as I write) I walked the half hour journey to Max’s house. He was waiting for me at the corner and we walked the last two hundred metres or so   together before we sat drinking milk-less tea in his lounge. Max is warm and charismatic. He knows my new home well as his Dutch girlfriend, Mariella, lived in it a few years ago. He appropriately calls it “The Pink Palace”. Just before I left Max gave me a pillow and pretty throw for the bed. He also gave me a small “Barbie” pink tub, filled with “lady things”. Among the bags of cotton wool balls and toiletries were four dainty cups which had been Mariella’s. He thought it right that they return to The Pink Palace!

I began to worry about getting all this home but Max makes everything easy. Immediately we began our search for a taxi with a roof rack, one turned the corner and stopped. Inside, full of smiles was GT, another of Max’s friends. He too had come to pick up his share of the spoils. Max told the driver that before he took GT off with his load he was to take “his sister” ( i.e. me) home with all my things.

And so I spent the rest of the day setting out furniture, as well as washing and rearranging curtains and cushions. The dark blue voiles that were here look good alongside the “Sarratt” green gingham. The plastic woven rugs are perfect too.

Suki knew I would be tired and came round in the evening to cook a large pasta dish. Mary came with her and brought the beer! We laughed and chatted by candle light (another power cut!) while we ate and watched a film courtesy of Sarah’s laptop.

 It feels like a home!

If you are wondering why I have moved here to Kombos tune in next week………….

Friends – old and new!

Happy New Year. It is the first day of 2012 and Sarah and I plan to celebrate with pie, chips and gravy! This is Sarah’s idea and I think it has something to do with coming from Durham back home. Over here, Sarah is Basse based, a town even further up country than Soma. When we come down to Kombos a shared aim is to make the most of the foods and restaurants available here. We are staying together in a friends’ house while they are away in Dakar.

Last night Sarah and I (along with Phil, Lilly and Kebba) saw in the New Year at Poco Loco, a beach side restaurant, on the nearby northern edge of the Senegambia tourist area. Midnight was marked by fireworks all along “the strip”. We stood on the wind swept beach, wrapped in blankets, with our backs to the sea, looking along the line of hotels’ competing displays. It was lovely but we did miss the traditions of Big Ben and Auld Langsyne. Amidst this unique experience we noticed that our blankets came from Ikea!

As we left we saw that hordes of people were thronging the area and traffic jams filled the length of the highway. For those travelling on foot the journey home must have been worrying and difficult and we were grateful that we had booked our friend, Lamin, to fight his way through the crowds in his taxi to pick us up from right outside Poco Loco’s front door.

This morning Sarah and I started the day with grapefruit supplied by an old friend, Phil Hart. I’d visited Phil and his teenage son, Andrew, at their home in Gunjur on the two days following Boxing day. They picked the grapefruit from one of the many trees Phil has planted in his compound since he first began developing the site, twenty years ago. At that time Phil would have been in his early twenties and I can only marvel at all he has achieved, often living in conditions I am grateful not to have experienced myself.  The wedge shaped plot, originally bush land, is now well laid out with a mixture of rectangular and circular buildings including meeting room, kitchen, separate bedrooms and toilets. Phil explained that his first task had been to dig the deep well, taking advantage of the good natural supply below ground. This gave him water for both drinking and cement making, vital because all bricks here are cast from cement.

All water is still pulled from the well, a considerable task, given the range of trees, shrubs and flowers that need tending. The latest to be planted are nasturtiums that although looking hardly will probably not survive the attention given them by two recently acquired energetic puppies.  There is no electricity and so Phil has brought over good solar powered lights. These and the bonfire made the one evening I spent there inviting and cosy. We shared a Benechin food bowl and drank wonjo, chatting and puppy watching until bedtime. I was surprised to find that my bed was a solid cement  block. Fetching a good foam mattress Phil explained that termites would get through a wooden bed in no time!

Electricity pylons are now lining the roadway, outside the compound and so power may soon arrive, making life easier for Phil and Andrew. They certainly deserve it.

I wish them, Phil’s parents, Peter and Anne, and all friends, both old and new a very Happy New Year and all the energy needed to make the most of 2012.

Christmas Cheer

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you. Whatever you are doing, enjoy it all with family and friends in love and appreciation! I’m already looking forward to Christmas 2012 but in the meantime……………..

It’s Christmas eve and I woke up this morning in my “Christmas treat” hotel (the Hibiscus in Brufut) to a chill in the air. It is December after all!  However it was not cold enough to prevent me from eating breakfast outdoors, at the pool’s edge. My usual breakfast here begins with fresh fruit salad wrapped in a pancake with a locally made fruit juice, rich in vitamin C, called wongo. I’m developing a taste for it mixed with ginger. Afterwards Fatu, head of table service, brings two poached eggs, tomato and a small amount of bacon with fresh tapalata bread cut into small rounds. I always save a little of the bread to eat with the delicious runny African honey. A small pot of tea rounds off a meal that staves off all signs of hunger until the evening.

Life here is certainly different to the rather Spartan existence in Soma. The hotel garden is gorgeous and evident wherever guests roam. The tall trees and beautiful bougainvilleas attract delightful small birds, some no bigger than wrens but with such bright coloured plumage. Sadly they are too quick to photograph.

The food is marvellous. As well as mouth-watering breakfasts, the lunch and evening dinner menus are irresistible. I especially recommend the butterfish in lime and capers or sticky chicken. The puddings look great too but I never have any room for one. Perhaps today I’ll just have a pudding and skip the main course altogether!

It won’t surprise those of you who have been following my blog which hotel facility I’ve been looking forward to the most. In fact after 5 hours on the road, plus an additional hour or two catching up with Lucy in a Fajara restaurant, I rushed into my room, dropped my backpack and charged into the bathroom. After a minute or two, I realised, too late, that there was no internal latch on the door.  I could not get out!  As I wondered what to do I became aware of my handbag, still on my shoulder. Luckily in my haste I had kept it with me so I sat down on the tiled floor, lifted the bag onto my lap and searched for my mobile phone while red sand poured out of my shoes into two neat piles on either side. I confidently connected up my lap top to the internet, and Googled the hotel for their phone number.  No joy! Suddenly my assured  euphoria as a techno whiz, fell away and once again I crumpled into “One old lady locked in the lavatory”. I plotted two further courses of action. One: send email to hotel reception, marked Urgent, Help Needed ….and two, the more traditional method of opening the window louvers and calling­­­­­­­ out. As the window faces the boundary wall there was no certainty of success but I still I gave it a try, calling clearly but without panic.

After about six calls (and ashamedly increasing panic) along the lines of “If you can hear me, would you please help” I heard the warm tones of a soft Irish voice. My rescuer, followed instructions to get into my room, locate the bathroom and open the door. He then disappeared too quickly for me to thank properly, obviously thinking I was either embarrassed or mad! Only later did I learn that he was a reporter from The Guardian!  Oh dear! The next humiliation was to report to reception and explain the rather odd email they were about to open. At least we all had a good laugh.

Another lone patron of the Hibiscus has been Mira, a Spiritual Teacher from Germany who is only a few years younger than me. We ate together a few times and despite being of very different character types, found we got on very well. Well enough to chance venturing out for a day or two together. I showed Mira how to travel cheaply as a local rather than a tourist and taught her a few useful phrases in Mandinka.

In return she showed me how to march mile upon mile along the hot beach, climb through thorny bracken, venture through “jungle” dodging creepers and warding off wild monkeys! We also walked along a narrow cliff top path ridiculously close to the edge until we were thrown out of the Nature Reserve by a guide for not coming in through the main gate and paying, like “normal” people.

The days with Mira were exhausting but never dull and she did indeed have the restorative positive energy of her profession. One fantastic evening we went with Sue, Hibiscus proprieter, to a concert in Fajara. The main performer was an extraordinarily talented half Gambian/half English singer called Sohna. She also played the Calabash, accompanied by her father and a wonderfully gifted drummer of only eleven years.  In the foyer of the theatre a local artist was holding an exhibition of his work and accepted Mira’s invitation to bring some pieces down to the hotel a few days later. Lawrence is a Nigerian and his work is absolutely stunning. Mira immediately bought two fabric paintings as it was her last day here but I decided to wait until well into the New Year. I would like to see the full range of his work and take time in choosing. That seems most indulgent. This treat is not yet over and I am already planning the next one.

Tomorrow will be Christmas Day but I will not be spending it at the hotel. Catherine and Mary (Kombos based VSO friends) have planed together as much a full Christmas dinner as circumstances will allow. Yesterday the three of us shopped at a place I never knew existed and could only dream of in Soma. Near the tourist area of Senegambia is Maroun’s Supermarket where we could buy frozen vegetables, cranberry sauce, sage and onion stuffing, cheese and ice cream. Visiting friends and family have already supplied Christmas puds and table crackers. The turkey “problem” will be resolved by Aladdin’s Restaurant who have agreed to supply 6 roasted chickens fresh from the spit. Of course there have been the extra problems associated with Christmas. The more usual issue of insufficient  chairs to seat all ten of us as well as the more unusual one of buying a large bottle of gas, getting it home without a car and connecting it up to the free standing oven without an explosion.

I hope your Christmas goes with a bang – and ours doesn’t!

Every good wish for a happy time now and in the year to come.

With much love.