Watermelon

My sister came to visit me. In fact not my sister (I don’t have one, as far as I am aware), but my cousin Vanessa and her mother Rosamund spent a week here. And here, everyone is ‘sister’ or ‘brother’, especially a cousin. When someone is introduced as ‘this is my brother’ it is difficult to know what that really means. Your brother might be a straightforward biological brother with the same parents, or perhaps the son of one of your father’s other wives . Or the brother might be someone else who happens to be staying in the same compound as you. Or just someone from the neighbourhood that you care about and who you can rely on. All these people are ‘brother’ or ‘sister’; the term simply means ‘here is someone that I consider as family’. And a number of people call me ‘brother’, which is a treat and an honour.

I sometimes take a lift to work with a man called Clark. He knows everyone. So as he drives he calls to people from his cab, waving with one hand through his open window at a passing pedestrian ‘Hey, my sister!’ and taking his other hand off the wheel to salute a police officer through the sunroof ‘’My brother! My brother! Salaam Malekum! I Saama!’

Yesterday I met a mouse. I was in my kitchen and saw a dark shape scurry past in the corridor. When I looked, a large mouse was pushing herself under the mosquito-net screen at my door. Goodbye, I thought, I don’t really want a mouse in my house. I don’t mind a couple of lizards as they eat insects, but rodents are not quite as useful. But within moments Minnie was back, squeezing under the screen again and scurrying around my house. And then out again. So then I shut the door. Perhaps we might meet again.

And we have also been invaded, not just by mice but now also by watermelons. There are watermelons (or ‘Hal’ in Wolof) everywhere. Huge green fruits are stacked up outside compounds to be sold. Men guard these piles, sleeping alongside all night on mats, and will sell you a melon, or just a slice. Availability of fruit and vegetables here depends on the season. When I first arrived in February there were grapefruit and oranges. Then we had mangos, thousands of them, every day. And then it was the maize season, and women sat at the roadside cooking the whole sweetcorns over charcoal, an easy quick meal; fast food Gambian style. And now we have Hal. I wonder if these things could somehow be stored so that they would be available throughout a greater portion of the year. Presumably they would fetch a better price too if the market was not flooded with many people selling the same fruit at one time.

     

Similarly, when I travel through upcountry villages, it is common to see a number of traders all selling the same thing. In one village, many people will be selling firewood. In another, only rice and tomatoes are sold. In another village, several craftsmen will make bamboo beds. Residents of another place will make mattresses, rice sacks sewn together and stuffed with dry grass. It is unusual to see a variety of produces sold in one place. I don’t really understand why this is. Except that there is a measure of security in selling the same things as your neighbours. If we all sell tomatoes we will all meet the same fate together, whether that will be a good day’s trading or a poor one. But if I sell aubergine when all my neighbours have tomato, then I risk making less money than everyone else, and my children may not be able to eat. The logic of this does not make complete sense to my European mind, but this is how it has been explained to me.

So as I was saying before getting drawn into this diversion, my sister came to see me last week. With her mother, my aunt, who in Gambian terms is also my sister. And we had a great week together, enjoying The Gambia, the people, the markets, the coast, the tranquillity, and the varied blend of Arabic and African cultures. On their first morning I took my visitors to Kanifing Magistrates Court. I had been called to attend the trial of the man who drove into me (see Two Accidents). The driver is a schoolboy and pleaded guilty to three driving offences relating to the accident, and was sentenced. I am pleased that he remains free to attend school (someone who reaches secondary school is a rarity here) and that the matter is now dealt with and closed. It will be five weeks before my next guests arrive, so I had better get some work done in that time.