On Saturday I had the pleasure of going to see Gambia take
on the mighty Burkina Faso in the national stadium. I live relatively close to
the stadium, so I was glad to finally have the chance to step inside and see a
match. True to form, we were treated to a football match “Gambian style” – no
pies and hot dogs here! Instead women and children walked around the stands
with oranges and groundnuts, doing their best to make a few extra Dalasis. As
Gambia is a predominantly Muslim country many supporters got their prayer mats
out during the first half to say their five o’clock prayers. It was a strange
but equally heart-warming sight to see supporters praying whilst the players on
the pitch continued playing. The more fervent fans (football-wise) waited until
half-time to pray though.
The game itself was quite fun. It was an international match
so there was a bit more pomp and ceremony; we were treated to the national
anthems at the start. Tiny Gambia almost sprang a shock, scoring in the 50th
minute with a headed goal. However, party poopers Burkina got a last-minute
equaliser to deny the “Black Scorpions” a famous scalp. Gambia’s Belgian coach
Paul Pot should be pleased with the performance though. Fingers crossed it will
be enough to help him temporarily forget the cruel joke his parents played when naming him.
Daytrip to Banjul –
As some of you may know, Banjul is the capital of The Gambia. However, due to
Banjul’s small size (it’s basically an island) all the administration
buildings, tourist facilities, shops and workers’ houses that you would
normally associate with a capital city have spread out to the surrounding area,
commonly known as the Kombos. Up to this
point I had yet to set foot in Banjul itself – high time to correct this!
Banjul is usually a buzz of activity, a complete nightmare
to get around. Thus, I decided to visit on a Sunday, when things were a lot
quieter. The first thing one notices are the quality of the roads. Everything
is nice and smooth, very few potholes. The President and dignitaries are
ensured a comfortable journey to and from the parliament building. Upon arrival
one is greeted by Arch 22, a large monument commemorating the coup which
overthrew the previous regime on the 22nd of July, 1994.
Aside from all the government buildings Banjul has a
relatively busy port, transporting goods to and from The Gambia. The port is
also home to a transporter ferry, taking people across the River Gambia. This
ferry is a must for the Senegalese traders, anxious to take a short cut when
transporting things from one side of their own country to the other (the “hot
dog sausage” of Gambia separates the North of Senegal from the South). Traders
rush to be the first in the queue each morning – a wise idea as latecomers have
been known to wait around for 10/12 hours...
It was nice to see a bit of Banjul, but I’m pleased that I
don’t work there myself. The journey to and from the capital is quite long and
tiring during the rush hour and it can probably be quite a hectic and stressful
place at times. I’m happy enough as it is in the Kombos, away from all the
crowds...
Family Trees –
After several weeks of being confused when people mentioned they had 16
brothers, 18 sisters and 3 mothers I decided to get to the bottom of this
mystery. My Wollof language teacher kindly obliged, and as such I am now in the
possession of a clear diagram explaining all (please feel free to click on the
photograph to the right).
The traditional family unit in The Gambia is worthy of a lesson
in its own right. Most striking of all is the potential pool of wives that a
son in a family has. Traditionally he would be expected to marry either one of
his father’s sister’s children or his mother’s brother’s children. I don’t
think my cousins Tiffany and Genevieve would be too impressed with this system,
and as they are both “tradition traitors” (they’re already married) I’m in a
tricky situation. The children of my mother’s sister and father’s brother are
all no go areas, being considered “brothers” and “sisters”, so that’s another
avenue closed off. Hmph!
The issue of having numerous “mothers” and “fathers” also
arises. Polygamy plays its part in this, as does the traditional Muslim rule
that when a husband dies the brother of the deceased should take care of the
now widowed wife. These factors, combined with the fact that brothers and
sisters help bring up all the
children in the extended family, mean that one’s father’s brother is often
referred to as a “father” too, and that your mother’s sister is another “mother”
to you. Confusingly, aunties and uncles still exist, but only your mother’s
brothers and father’s sisters qualify. Got all of that?!
Ok, fingers crossed some of that is of interest to you. Have
a great rest of the week, many best wishes and take care of yourselves,
Robert
After a journey of about 3 hours I finally arrived in Kerewan, one of the main towns on the north side of the country. I spent a great time with some of the VSO and Peace Corps volunteers there, with whom we had a lovely bonfire by a nearby pier. Lots of happy memories! Waking up with sore heads, we bundled onto another minibus (this time not so packed) to head for Farafenni, a market town by the border with Senegal. I got to see my first “lumo”, an open-air market filled with hundreds of market sellers. The travelling experience was completed with a horse and cart ride back to the town centre. 
