I'm writing this on Sunday, February 26, 2012. The Silver Wind passengers were informed shortly after leaving Walvis Bay, Namibia that our itinerary for Senegal had changed. There has apparently been off and on rioting in Dakar during the run up to today's election. To avoid danger, the Captain announced, we were to visit nearby Banjul, The Gambia instead. The Gambia is Africa's smallest country. It lies a few miles either side of the Gambia river and is entirely bordered by Senegal except for the river mouth on the Atlantic Ocean. I have no idea why it is called THE Gambia. The stories told by locals varied. Senegal is more or less a functioning, French speaking republic while The Republic of The Gambia is an English speaking dictatorship and hence much more stable and safe for tourists. We were advised not to take pictures of government buildings or police, however. Silversea had arranged on short notice a choice of two tours. I am impressed at the cruise line's ability to make changes of port quickly and to contact tour operators and make transportation arrangements for a hundred or so passengers.
We had three sea days between Ghana and The Gambia. The seas were mostly calm, the weather mostly warm. Two of the days were foggy. We did observe dolphins a number of times and even once a whale. I managed to read most of my 1000 page novel. The social highlight was the Venetian Society reception for repeat guests, honoring those with high numbers of days on Silversea. Michael was honored for reaching the 500-day milestone. In addition to a handshake, the Captain presented Michael with a certificate for two free weeks on a future cruise. My attempt at photographing the occasion yielded a shot of Michael's back as he shook the Captain's hand. We already have plans for the two weeks early in 2013.
Yesterday, Saturday, we were up at 6 a.m. to watch the approach and docking at Banjul. Banjul has a small pier for freighters and several even smaller piers for ferries and other small vessels. Our ship took up half the pier. A medium sized freighter occupied the other half while another fully loaded freighter waited at anchor in the bay for its turn for dock space. Banjul is no hub of international commerce yet there were hundreds of shipping containers stacked around the port. I had not realized how much "stuff" is shipped everywhere around the world, to large and tiny ports, in the same standardized shipping containers. It is unfortunate that the United States merchant mariners have almost none of this work because of our country's protectionist legislation.
The tour that Michael and I had chosen did not start until 1:00 p.m. because the last Saturday of each month in The Gambia is officially a state "Cleaning Day." Markets are officially closed and taxis cannot run so the citizens can clean their cities and towns. We did take a shuttle-bus ride to the central market and back to see what Banjul looks like. We saw unpaved streets, rundown buildings, dirt, goats, and feral dogs running loose. There were a few people sweeping up litter and all the parked taxis looked newly washed. The only open businesses were the instant "shops" set up on the pier in hopes of selling trinkets to the tourists newly arrived on the Silver Wind.
In due time we climbed aboard our modern, air-conditioned tour bus for our tour of the highlights of Banjul. The highlights turned out to be a batik "factory" in the nearby and much larger city of Serekunda and a visit to a small town a little bit upriver to see the "famous" crocodile pool. We saw the National Museum in Banjul and the Royal Albert Market, the largest market in the country. It really was a fascinating tour. The Gambia is a poor country. Few streets are paved. We saw open sewers. The citizens live and work, for the most part, in really basic housing. Yet everyone seems to have a cell phone. Clothing is extremely colorful and mostly clean. There are satellite dishes on all the taller buildings. People seem happy, adequately fed and children well cared for.
There is a lot we don't and can't possibly understand from one brief visit. How can living conditions be so primitive yet there are fleets of expensive Mercedes Benz taxis that seem to have plenty of customers? Why is there no bridge across the Gambia River? The ferries, packed with people, autos, trucks and even a herd of goats, appear rusty to the point of being unseaworthy and highly inefficient. They are supplemented with wooden long boats to which passengers are carried by a large fellow who keeps their feet dry by carrying them to the boat.
The batik factory had no automation. Everything is done by hand. We were told that the men do the batik designs and production while the women do tie dying of fabric. On our way to the crocodile pool, we saw women working in the vegetable fields. Our guide told us that this is women's work. Apparently tribal sex role traditions are strong.
The crocodile pool is the country's biggest tourist attraction. It is set in a small park, a few acres of semi-wilderness with a small, green-carpeted pool containing maybe twenty crocodiles. The place is supposed to be sacred and magical. One can touch a crocodile, under the supervision of an attendant. The beasts are said to be tame. I wonder if they were drugged. There was no way I was going to touch one even in the near 100 degree F heat that seemed to render them immobile.
I was no frame of mind to touch anything, nor breathe too deeply at the Albert Market. Stalls crowded together selling similar things in tiny alleys. Like a department store, there was the shoe section, the clothing section, the clothing manufacturing section. The vegetable section was interesting, especially the colorfully dressed women. The fish section, however, was too much. Flies, attracted by the fish and the late afternoon heat, covered everything. I was certainly glad I had used DEET liberally before starting the tour. Our guide gave us twenty minutes to wander around the crafts section, encouraging us to bargain with the vendors for souvenirs. Finally, we headed back to the port and the Silver Wind.
Today, on our way to the Cape Verde Islands, I'm reflecting on my experiences in several parts of sub-Sahara Africa. It is impossible not to have preconceptions no matter how hard one tries not to. These preconceptions are invariably wrong. The African countries I have just visited are far more complex than I could have imagined. What I saw is almost certainly not the whole story. There are layers upon layers. I attended most of the enrichment lectures on the history and politics of Africa, which certainly helped me understand, somewhat, what I was seeing. Although different peoples may have much in common, their history, worldviews and belief systems get in the way of mutual understanding. I, certainly, don't know the proper balance, or more correctly, what is a workable balance between glorifying one's heritage and adapting to change. Human beings are tribal and conservative by nature yet sometimes must accept new ways to survive and prosper.
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Barbara Borsuk
barbara@mborsuk.com
Boulder, Colorado, USA
303 408-3639
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