Guinea Pig

This morning I arrived in work but the whole place was locked; now that has never happened before. Since the New Year I have changed my transport arrangements and I have been arriving here earlier. This is because the NGO that provided my transport until now will no longer help VSO due to some childish dispute they are having. This morning I got here very early, and found the gates of the Ministry of Education bolted against me; there is probably some metaphor in this to do with access to education, but it is too early for my mind to make clever comments like that.

In the district where I live, the main highway to Banjul passes not far from my house. This is convenient in many ways, but the road gets very busy during the morning rush hour. Banjul is on an island, with only one road on and off, over Denton Bridge (see Satellite Photo). Few people own cars, so throughout the morning the highway is lined with people in need of transport to Banjul. They flag down NGO cars, they climb into the back of pickups and lorries, and sit on flatback trailers or on top of truckloads of gravel or wood or boxes or scrap metal or sacks of rice. And they crowd round the minibus taxis, fighting for the few remaining seats. And what humbles me about this is that many of these people have no guaranteed work when they arrive in Banjul; they are simply seeking daily work for a few dalasi, and may spend the day outside a warehouse or at the dock gates, waiting hopefully. So for me, to avoid the crushing and pushing and standing at the roadside for two or three hours, I must leave at 6:30am or wait until 10:30am. I have done both. This morning I travelled early. And eventually a cleaner took pity on me outside the gates and let me in.

Yesterday there was a lot of shooting in Banjul. Various army units were engaged in an impressive parade for some reason, which ended with a few many-gun salutes, which echoed through the Ministry offices as we are just over the road from the square. This country is relaxed and laid-back but it is not unusual to see army patrols with their big guns. Vehicles are regularly stopped to check passengers and papers. And when the president travels, his route is monitored by soldiers with rifles, and roads and junctions are closed whilst he sweeps through in a big black car, accompanied by armed outriders and an ambulance.

A new bunch of volunteers arrived recently, the February 08 cohort. This means I have now been here a year, and am now one of the longer-serving volunteers out here. A year has passed quickly – I still feel new, but when a newer colleague asks me for help or advice I confidently pretend that I know what I am doing.

It is a month since I last added to this blog, as I have been away to Guinea-Conakry. West Africa is very flat, but Guinea has mountains and lots of rain (over 4000mm per year). All this water means that the highlands of Guinea give rise to many of West Africa’s rivers, including the Gambia and Niger. Guinea has annual exports totalling one billion dollars. This sounds a lot (it is the amount the UK Ministry of Defence spends in one month), but Guinea’s foreign debt is four times bigger. Guinea’s poverty has perhaps been exacerbated by a series of political decisions that arguably have backfired. Guinea was the first African country to demand independence from France, and therefore benefited least from transition assistance offered to their other colonies. They experimented with a form of state socialism along Chinese lines, but then abandoned it. And now Guinea sits uncomfortably outside the common market and shared currency (the CFA) of French West Africa, and they retain their rapidly devaluing Guinean Franc.

To read about my recent break in Guinea, click here.

Finally, here is a picture of a Guinea Pig.