Part 4
The next morning two things have been solved: the headache has gone
and the noise of the Christmas dinner has been replaced by happy birdsound
and dancing sunbeams. Oh yes, it was December 25th and I am in
the Gambia, Africa, the country which is famous by the colourful collection
of exotic birds. Bird-lovers can enjoy it here to its heart's
content and looking at the luggage of my fellow-passengers there were
some. Stands, binoculars and photo-equipment. "Luggage" also reminded
me of knitting pins and Dutch herring. Suddenly I also remember what
the brother has told me yesterday. Yahya and Nyima are not in Fatoto
at the moment. He vaguely showed me something about another village.
So no luggage, no departure for Fatoto and no class full of giggling
Gambian women. I have been looking forward to this. Together knitting
on spoolknitters with threads and needles and trying to be understood
by gestures and muttering.
But the tide may be turning and with much courage I go to office hours
of the hostess. Patiently I wait for my turn while guests before me
book for all sorts of excursions. Big money exchanges from owner and
cheques were made out. The reply is short when it's my turn: "Haven't
heard anything" but she promises to call later.
I spend rest of the day exploring again the surrounding. One thing and
another has been changed around the market of Serrekunda. A new
market-building rises from behind the scaffolds. At the market the swarming
is familiar. I can enjoy the multicoloured collection beautiful
African women exposed with colourful fruit and vegetables. This is the
view I can enjoy for hours. With a glass of nescafe-coffee in my hand
as an excuse I settle down on a shabby bench. At the black market the
rate is lower than half a year ago. But the bush-taxis still jostle
one another and offer their services screaming. A trip to Bakau. I sit
on the peer between fishing boys. Plundered the market and bought a
summer-dress. And ended up ordering a beer at the outdoor cafe of
Anna, a Dutch woman who has started her own cafe in the middle of town
where there is always something going on.
The next day same pattern shows. Again standing in line at the hostess
and again the same disappointing answer. In this way days slip through
my fingers. Ten out of three have already been waisted. She said waiting,
waiting but for how long? Should I get used to simply start
doing nothing. Should I behave as a beach tourist and settle down at a
beach-chair and let go all my ideas? I cannot cope with this, literally
and figuratively. I am used to go after it myself and also now I
think of a plan. By bush-taxi I drive to the Gamtel, the telephone
service of Gambia, at a hotel-complex. With indifference I have been
told that telephones today coincidentally were "out of order".
"Problems" and "No connections". Heading to the next Gamtel dialling
the number of Holland. What a delight to know Webgrrls! "Can I help
you? Calling from here to Holland is very expensive. Can you find out
what has happened to my luggage?" Unconditional support is promised to
me. Trusting something is really going to happen or at least that some
clearness will be given I decide to leave again.
Today Banjul is on the list. Still 'under construction'. The Albert
market offers something for all of us. The pushing at the ferry to
Burra is still a great spectacle of the streets. I sit down on a steep
curbstone. The french bread filled with a sort of meat, pickled sauce
and rolled into a piece of wrapping paper still tastes very delicious.
The boys playing football between the fishing-boats and dried fish
always end their game when you walk along the beach paddling in the
water. They still peel the little oranges very ingenious. And the best
is their clumsiness near the small private ferries. A big fat African
woman loaded with full shopping-bags seems to float over the water.
When observing this scene it is caused by a small slim man. Bowing as
a packed animal he lifts up the clients through the water. In this way
the beautifully dressed woman with dry feet and dry errands gets into
the boat which takes her to the other side.
Back in the hotel there were two notes. "You had a call from your
friend in Holland, she would like to inform you that she has an important
message for you about your luggage". Call immediately. A long
story about many telephone numbers and much nagging but finally she
got in touch with the right person and the luggage has been traced. My
blue backpack with knitting pins has been shipped on the plane to
Switzerland right at this moment and tomorrow flown to the Gambia.
Expected time of arrival: 18.15.
Good news and relief.
What a great woman.
Long live webgrrls!
be continued
More information:
Map of Africa and more information:
Map of Gambia and more information:
More travelstories from Africa:
An tour through West Africa
On the motor from north to south
Go back to Liesbet's Atelier
Go outside
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